Last Tuesday, I was poll-watching in the Democratic primary race in the NY state senate district of Pedro Espada. He’s the one who staged the coup in the state senate by switching to the Republican party earlier this year. The voters threw him out by a decisive margin, which is great news. But what made this instance of poll-watching most interesting for me was the long conversations I had with a police officer who was stationed there from 5:30 a.m. until 3:30 p.m.
In New York City, polling places always have at least one police officer assigned to keep order and to take custody of the ballots at the end of the day. When poll-watching, I always introduce myself to the police officer on duty and there is usually some small talk. This time, however, it went well beyond that, especially with one of the two cops at the site. He was 40 years old with a family, a former marine who had seen combat duty in the Middle East, and very smart and observant. It started out with a conversation with Shana, the Board of Elections Coordinator for the site, talking about problems in establishing voters’ identity. In New York, you only need to sign your name in the register to vote. You don’t need to show any ID. Shana talked about past instances where it seemed pretty clear to her that people showing up to vote were not legitimate. When Shana was called away, the conversation turned to the topic of national identity cards, which he felt were necessary for effective policing and enforcement of immigration rules. But after mentioning some of the downsides to ID cards, I moved on to economic issues.
At first he sounded like a Fox news listener, complaining about taxes and spending on social services. But as the conversation continued, there were interesting nuances. When he said he was leaning toward the Tea Party, I pointed out that it was being funded by the Koch brothers and other rich people and corporations, who had been looting the economy and outsourcing jobs for decades. He agreed that the tax cuts for the rich should end, although he felt that $250,000 was not the right starting point in a high-cost city like New York. He knew about the European system of day fines based on income and thought it would be a good idea. He complained that the cutbacks in the police department have curtailed community policing, which allows police officers to get to know the residents on their beat.
We talked about his frustration with parents who want to report their kids as missing but who don’t even know the names of their kids’ friends and can’t call down the block to find out that that is where they are. We talked about problems in the public schools, which leads families to pay out of their own pockets for parochial schools. We talked about Section 8 housing with high-end luxury cards in their parking lots.
The conversation was bracing, with each of us trying to understand the real concerns of the other. I suddenly realized how many years it had been since I had been in such a conversation. Mostly, we stick with small talk in order to avoid stirring up political passion that we’re afraid could poison our relationships at work or in our extended family. Once we’re out of school we have no forum for productive political discussion and debate. But this time, I am trying to extend the conversation and have invited the cop and his wife to have dinner with us next time they are in Manhattan. It may be a pipe dream, but until we can reach across the divide to find some common passions and common sense, we’ll be stuck in futile battles against the ruling elite.