Sunday, November 11, 2012

Course Blog #20 (Justin): You Aren’t There!

I’ve never been in a voting booth. Touch screen voting, hanging chad, lever pulling – none of these have been a part of my adult life. It’s not that I don’t vote; I’ve just never been physically present in my voting precinct on the day of the election. My name is Justin Rincker and I’m a chronic absentee voter.

In the democratic process, I am the illegitimate member of the family – the voter no one wants to acknowledge. I don’t get to stand in line with other dutiful electors or proudly display a sticker on my chest after visiting the polls. Instead, my voting experience involves quietly requesting a ballot through the mail. I receive forms signed by official voting dignitaries who shame me for creating extra paperwork and warn me that not returning my ballot within a specified time from the election (within 14 days!) is a federal offense. Even if I leave the ballot completely blank, I must get it into the hands of the election officials to avoid a courtroom appearance. My voting experience is akin to taking a college entrance exam – number 2 pencils, scantron bubbles, and a cheaply-made booklet which smudges my hands with ink. It is neither glamorous nor concurrent with other election-day excitement. Alone, at home, I fill out the appropriate forms, lick the envelope I’ve been provided, and let the U.S. Postal Service carry away my ballot along with my cable and cell phone bills.

So, what is the appropriate place for this experience within the archive? It lacks the theatricality of the normal voting experience – no queuing, curtain pulling, or card punching. And its performativity may be stripped away as well, since my ballot could be received and counted days after the winners have been announced! The forms (the request to vote absentee, the official absentee ballot, the envelope which prominently displays the ‘confidential’ nature of the contents inside) can certainly be placed within the archive. But how boring! Where is the interactive display in which schoolchildren sit at a replica of my kitchen table, furiously erase pencil marks when they realize they’ve filled in the wrong bubbles and gag on the cheap glue used on the snail mail envelope? On second thought, perhaps just filing away the official forms in the stacks of a museum is an appropriate way for the archive to reflect the absentee voter experience – the easily overlooked archival material standing in for the easily overlooked voter.

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