There are two sides to every coin

On Tuesday I’ll be back at the polls again. Sometime in the last few months, I’ve misplaced my rose colored glasses. My spine feels weary in anticipation of the long day on my feet operating the democratic system. It’s not so much the system that makes me weary, but how everyone seems to be feeling about it. There is quite a divide over our democracy, like everything else these days. Some, like me, are clinging to the system with both hands. Yes, we know this works. We have counting. We have data. We can have definitive direction in the end. Or you view it as a straight jacket binding you into something that feels too tight. You’d like to replace it with something more… what? Something like the good old days? When exactly were those would you say? That response depends a lot on who’s answering.

My family and I have spent the last week sorting and rolling good old American currency. We ran a coin drive fundraiser at the elementary school and your boy here, the PTA Treasurer, has the honor of counting the change. I don’t have the finally tally yet, but it’s over a grand for sure. Do you have a guess for how much $1k in coins weighs? I’ll tell you. It’s just over 330 pounds. It’s the weight that gets you. That’s what the previous Treasurer (now President) told me when she was showing me the ropes. She was not kidding. I’ve tried organizing the coin rolls in boxes but at 30 or so the box starts to buckle under the weight. I’ve started compiling the rolls in the small buckets the kids collected them in. They are scattered all over my dining room table waiting on a ride to the bank. There are so. many. pennies.

The prize for the class that collects the most weight is an ice cream party. You might be surprised how motivating the promise of ice cream can be for young children, especially in a school setting. Ice cream instead of math? Can life get better? They’re also really into the competition. My son’s teacher followed us for a few classrooms as we did the midweek weigh-ins so she could get an edge on the competition. The teachers don’t mess around. As a result of everyone’s excitement, we’ve had a record-setting fundraiser season. Now, we need to decide how to spend the extra cash. My preference is to make our normally ticketed events free for everybody, but I have to run it by the rest of the committee. I’m sure they’ll agree.

It’s not a huge school so the feat is pretty impressive, especially considering many students meet the low income criteria set by the state. Their families gathered up their loose change in plastic baggies and sent them into the school building in hopes they’d become something greater; something that could benefit everyone. And because so many did–they will get their wish.

A few parents who could afford to make larger donations, myself included, took cash to the bank to change it out for rolled coins. (Pro-tip: Go for nickels. They’re heavier than pennies.) A part of me feels guilty for giving my kid’s class an unfair advantage, like there is some kind of unwritten rule that says the coins have to be scrounged out of couch cushions or collected from car cupholders but in a world with increasingly less physical currency, that feels unrealistic. I am grateful I earn enough that I can afford to overspend on a tiny serving of ice cream for my kid and his classmates. In the end if we need to incentivize those who can afford it in order to provide for those who can’t, I think the whole game is worth it.

Does anyone know what could take the place of an ice cream party for billionaires?

In coin challenges and democracy things work best when everyone participates in earnest. We know this as a collective. And if there is one thing to be said for the current state of politics, people are engaged. At my refresher training this year the election official told us they were expecting 95% of registered voters to show up to vote. I’m feeling the pressure to nail my role as the provisional judge, ensuring every vote that comes through my precinct is cast and counted correctly. After my experience last spring, I reviewed how to deal with difficult people on the internet. Double down on empathy and don’t take things personally. Got it. I will be patient and kind with the voters who arrive at my station. I’ve made a plan to pack more food and water. Last time I did not bring enough to keep me going all day and nothing is provided. I held on to my manuals and intend to reread the tricky bits before the big day. That’s what there is to do.

There is something so beautiful about the system when you trust it. I watched a thoughtful piece on PBS Newshour about the AP and their responsibility of compiling the results from every county in every state in our country. The results are reported in various formats and at different times. It seems no two states are exactly the same, as is their right. This is a features of the system, it makes it even more difficult to manipulate the votes at scale. Each county reports their results, and then the AP does its job. It compiles and reports. The piece, by Desjardins and Loffman, brought back my faith in the people. And sure yeah, The American People as a body. But really I mean the people like me. The people that pack up a days worth of food and drink the night before. The people standing in school cafeterias until late in the evening checking each step in the manual. The people waiting on hold with the county elections office to report the days numbers. The people just doing a job. A civic duty.

That’s how I’m thinking of things this time. I’m showing up for another day on the job for my country. I don’t have to be happy about it, I just have to get my work done. If I stay focused on my small job, everything will run as it should. The system works if you let it.