“I feel disheartened with our caucus process,” I commented to Sera after arriving home from work. The caucus had not yet begun Tuesday evening, but I had already met multiple people that day who would not be able to cast their vote. The building I work in often serves as a polling place for elections but did not do so on Super Tuesday. This resulted in a few well-meaning people showing up to vote who learned they were both in the wrong location and trying to vote at the wrong time. I was the one who happened to deliver the bad news.

At first it didn’t seem like bad news. Simply informing someone they’re in the wrong place at the wrong time is fairly harmless, though perhaps a bit embarrassing for them. One by one though, every person I spoke to was unable to make it to the caucus location on Super Tuesday to partake. I was beginning to encounter many people who genuinely wanted to take part in our election process and due to a multitude of reasons would now no longer be able to cast a vote.

One gentleman arrived at our building eager to cast his ballot. Confusion naturally kicked in when no one else was voting. After I informed him the polling locations open at 6:30 that night, I visibly saw his demeanor change. His eyes had lost their sparkle, his shoulders slumped downward and his ambitious attitude had been replaced by disillusionment. This man works the second shift and had no way of caucusing without risk of losing his job. His voice should have been heard, but it was silenced Tuesday night.

I greeted a woman at work who was hopeful about caucusing, but she too was in the wrong location at the wrong time. When I informed her of the caucus locations, it became clear she, too, wouldn’t be attending. This elderly woman had no car, no means to transport herself to the other side of town to cast her vote. She had already walked many blocks to get to her regular voting location and would stand no chance attempting a many-mile walk in the dark to vote. She left defeated, feeling uninvited to the political process.

In both of these cases, someone’s income was limiting their ability to determine who represents them. The gentleman needs a job, so he chooses stable employment over skipping work to caucus. The woman cannot afford transportation, so she’s ignored by whichever caucus she decided to attend. The decisions our future leaders will be making will undoubtedly greatly impact these two individuals, but they weren’t represented. The barriers were too high for them to participate, and I wonder how many others experienced the same issues.

I did not face the same barriers as these two, but that didn’t mean caucusing was easy. Confused volunteers sent citizens in mixed directions, and when I finally did reach my room, the process was so disorganized that I began to feel embarrassed to be in the same room as these people. After a surprising amount of time wasted through pure foolishness, my room finally had the opportunity to vote. The volunteers in our room could not find ballots, so we began casting our vote on scratch paper. Shortly thereafter, the ballots were found and distributed for re-voting, when they ran out of them. I left as soon as possible, ashamed that our 158-year-old state did not yet have this process down to a science. I certainly hope this was smoother in your community.

It shouldn’t be difficult to vote. It shouldn’t leave a U.S. citizen feeling left out or frustrated. The system for determining our leadership is important, and we need to do everything we can to make sure this happens. In the days that followed, I’ve been reading a lot about caucus states like Minnesota versus primary states. Only 12 states and three territories use the caucus system, and I think we should re-examine why Minnesota doesn’t use the primary system instead. Primaries operate similar to our general election voting, a process voters are much more familiar with and removes barriers that low-income people face while trying to make it to the polls. Their voices are important and should be represented at all stages of the election process, not just with whoever everyone else decided on before Nov. 8.

 

Rochester resident Matt Knutson is the communications and events director for United Way of Olmsted County.