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Voting Shouldn't Be Hard You Stupid Bureaucrats!
When they say exercise your right to vote, I didn't realize they meant it literally.
So I went to my polling station this morning. It's at the base of North Hill, in the Hillhurst-Sunnyside Community Association. My habit for elections is to get the voting out of the way as soon as possible. Mostly because I'm anxious to vote, but also because I have fewer constraints on my time in the morning and because there's usually no line ups. Little did I know that the Elections Canada officials at that polling station are more interested in maintaining the bureaucracy then using their brains.
My first inkling that things would not go smoothly was when they asked my for my voter registration card, and had no idea how to proceed when I couldn't produce one. In my defense, I never received one, despite registering to vote three weeks earlier in the building where I was living. The first thing they had to do was figure out which poll I was in. This involved looking for SAIT on a map.
I have a pet peeve about bureaucratic rules that goes something like this. Rules are made for reasons, if the underlying reason doesn't apply to your situation, then the rule shouldn't be either.
In this case the underlying rule of the address is proof that I live where I say I live - so I don't go and vote more than once. Now my current transient situation broke their rules, but a simple oath by me (perhaps cross referenced with my social security number) given to the returning officer should have been sufficient to fix the problem. Instead they made me get "proof" that I was living in a hotel. And that "proof" consisted of two sheets of paper that would have taken me about ten minutes to forge, therefore it was no proof at all - but they accepted it. They were blindly following a rule, instead of using their brains to look at the underlying reasons for the rule and seeing if I was an exception to those reasons.
Of course, if that hadn't worked, I had a fall back position. I would have gone into my Dad's riding and voted there. After all I had "proof" (in the form of mail addressed to me at my father's address) that I lived there. Why should a little thing like the truth get in the way of bureaucratic busy work.
So I went to my polling station this morning. It's at the base of North Hill, in the Hillhurst-Sunnyside Community Association. My habit for elections is to get the voting out of the way as soon as possible. Mostly because I'm anxious to vote, but also because I have fewer constraints on my time in the morning and because there's usually no line ups. Little did I know that the Elections Canada officials at that polling station are more interested in maintaining the bureaucracy then using their brains.
My first inkling that things would not go smoothly was when they asked my for my voter registration card, and had no idea how to proceed when I couldn't produce one. In my defense, I never received one, despite registering to vote three weeks earlier in the building where I was living. The first thing they had to do was figure out which poll I was in. This involved looking for SAIT on a map.
"You're in poll 401 and we don't handle that area - you have to go to another polling station." Said drone #1. "Not according to the sign on the front door of my building and the Elections Canada website. I replied.As she was wandering off I slowly scanned the room. The very firstpolling table was for 401. I waved her off talking to her boss because I already had the answer and could move to the next stage.
"Oh, let me check with my boss".
"Do you have your card?" said drone #2.Drone #3 checks the roll and fails to find me on it.
"No, I never received it - I did register to vote three weeks ago, so I should be on your roll".
"We'll just register you now" says Drone #2, "I need identification and something with your name and address."I got a look that indicated she thought I was being deliberately difficult.
"Here's my driver's license. I don't have anything with my address on it because I've been living in a hotel for the last two months and I haven't received any mail.
"How about your vehicle registration?"
"I don't own a vehicle."
"We can't help you, I'll see if the boss can help you."So I cooled my heels for a few minutes. Then the Boss Drone arrived.
"Here's the problem", I said, "I moved out of my last permanent residence ten months ago. I have a new house that I'm moving into in three days. In the mean time I've been living in a variety of addresses temporarily, the latest being the SAIT Residence & Conference Centre. I registered to vote three weeks ago when Elections Canada had a team at the Residence, but I never received a registration card in the mail. Because it's a hotel, I never had my mail forwarded to the address so I don't have any mail with my name and that address on it.So he went off to check on that and I cooled my heels for another five minutes.
"You're a SAIT student?"
"No, I'm living in their residence because they rent out rooms to the general public over the summer."
"Do you have a receipt from SAIT?"
"I have a debit card receipt, but that only proves I gave SAIT a thousand dollars, it doesn't say what the money's for. Look, You can take oaths, why don't I just swear an oath that I live where I say I live?"
"We have to have something with your name and address on it." he said.I put on my hat and hiked back up the North Hill (taking the shortest and also the steepest route). Got to the Residence and had the manager print out my registration information. For good measure I had him photocopy the card I signed when I checked in. I then turned around and marched back to the polling station and straight to the table with my poll. I ignored their small talk, filled out their forms and cast my vote. As I finished, Drone #2 decided to throw in her two cents.
"So what your telling me is I have to go all the way back to the residence so I can get the front desk to print off some form that says I live there, that's the only solution."
"Yes."
"Swell."
"There, wasn't that worth the effort"Well no you stupid cow it wasn't worth the effort. Voting is a duty not a reward. It's like taking out the garbage or shoveling the walks - it needs doing and making it harder doesn't make the experience sweeter. I don't appreciate shoveling the sidewalk more when someone steals my shovel.
I have a pet peeve about bureaucratic rules that goes something like this. Rules are made for reasons, if the underlying reason doesn't apply to your situation, then the rule shouldn't be either.
In this case the underlying rule of the address is proof that I live where I say I live - so I don't go and vote more than once. Now my current transient situation broke their rules, but a simple oath by me (perhaps cross referenced with my social security number) given to the returning officer should have been sufficient to fix the problem. Instead they made me get "proof" that I was living in a hotel. And that "proof" consisted of two sheets of paper that would have taken me about ten minutes to forge, therefore it was no proof at all - but they accepted it. They were blindly following a rule, instead of using their brains to look at the underlying reasons for the rule and seeing if I was an exception to those reasons.
Of course, if that hadn't worked, I had a fall back position. I would have gone into my Dad's riding and voted there. After all I had "proof" (in the form of mail addressed to me at my father's address) that I lived there. Why should a little thing like the truth get in the way of bureaucratic busy work.