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Parable-- a story in prose or verse that is told to illustrate a religious or ethical idea.
This happened to me yesterday, and I though it illustrated pretty vividly the chasm that exists sometimes between conservative and liberal mindsets, and how the chasm can sometimes be bridged by understanding and sharing of ideas.
I am an election judge in Harris County, Texas. (Harris County is one of the biggest counties in the US, and it includes most of Houston and many Houston suburbs, including my own). I spent the day officiating at the polls, including checking in voters wishing to vote in my precinct.
Among the poll workers, I was the token Democrat present. All 4 others were blue-haired, upper-middle class church ladies, and all were VERY right-wing Republican.
This is an upper-middle class suburb, so when a 60-something, disheveled man wandered in loudly announcing "I am here to vote," he attracted a lot of negative attention. He told us his name and produced a drivers license, and said again (very loudly) "I am a Viet Nam vet and I am going to vote now."
Charleen, one of the church ladies, said, "Sir, you are not in the voter rolls for this precinct." He got very upset, and muttered things like, "Oh, so you're not gonna let me vote? I'm a vet. I get to vote. I am here to vote." Charleen looked at the address on his drivers license and said "Glenmont! There are no houses on Glenmont Street, sir. That is all warehouses." In a stage whisper to me, she said-- "He's a street person. I've seen him walking around."
Charleen rolled her eyes and said, to her other blue-haired cohort, "get him a provisional ballot." (In the voting biz-- the provisional ballot is basically a dummy ballot. Hardly ever counted, and used as a means of pacifying angry people so that they will go away.)
I stepped in at that point and said, "Wait a minute." I asked the man if he was registered and he said "Hell, yes." I had my doubts, but I called the county, waited on the phone and gave them the man's identifying information.
By God, he was a registered voter! This man was just in the wrong precinct! He just needed to walk about 12 blocks south and he would be at his rightful polling location.
I wrote down his precinct number and the address of his polling location, then walked him to the door and pointed him in the right direction. I would have driven him there, but he really did seem a little crazy. Plus it was a beautiful day for a walk, he seemed fit enough, and I was on duty.
When I came back to my voter sign-in station, Charlene and the two other ladies there were smirking, and "tsk, tsk"-ing my do-gooder ways. They said things to the effect of "crazy homeless men have no business voting." This was among several ignorant things they had already said that day, but I couldn't ignore that one.
I responded, very calmly, "You know, I do volunteer work writing grant proposals for a shelter for homeless, substance-abusing veterans. I know the statistics. One single homeless man out of three is a combat veteran. That guy told us himself he was a VietNam veteran. This guy is not right in the head, but in all likelihood he lost his mind while he was in service to his country. Would you look down on him if he had lost a leg in war for his country? This is someone who lost something even more devastating-- his mind and a normal adult life. That man is a vet, trying to do his civic duty by voting on election day, and he is someone who we need to go out of our way to help."
They were pretty quiet, and I didn't know if I had been too preachy. But one of the ladies, Betty, said much later in the day, "I hadn't thought about that homeless man as a patriotic person until you explained it the way you did."
Whether this viewpoint sunk in with the others, I don't know. But I thought it illustrated pretty vividly how attitudes separate us and what we can do to change attitudes.
It also illustrates how Democrats need to take off election day and go work at the polls. If I hadn't been there I KNOW that this guy and about 5 or 6 other people would NOT have voted yesterday.
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