A Blue Voice in a Red County
My experience as a Democratic Poll Greeter in my very red Ohio county
A silver Toyota Corolla pulls into the parking lot. As it drives by I check the bumper for stickers or decals, finding none. I follow it with my eyes until it parks near the back of the lot. Soon after the driver exits, zipping her plain yellow sweatshirt. I give her another glance as she approaches, looking for campaign buttons, stickers, or the telltale red hat, of which she has none. I prepare by sliding a card off the stack in my left hand to my right hand, holding it at the ready.
"Are you here for early voting?" I ask.
"Yes."
I step closer and hold out the card. "Would you like a Democratic candidate slate card?"
She steps towards me and reaches for the card before my words register in her mind. When they do, her hand snaps back as if she had touched a hot stove.
She grimaces and shakes her head, "No."
I slide the card back into the stack in my left hand and point to the flag marking the entrance to the Butler County Board of Elections. "Thanks for voting," I say as she walks by.
"Good luck handing those out," she says, quiet but not too quiet; she wants me to hear her.
Being a Democratic poll greeter in staunchly Republican Butler County, Ohio, is an uphill battle. Republican candidates rarely receive less than 60% of the vote and often run unopposed in local races. With the addition of JD Vance, who graduated from nearby Middletown High School, Republican voters seem further emboldened in one of the reddest counties in a deeply red state.
I spent most of my day standing with the Republican greeter stationed at my entrance. By the end of my volunteering I knew quite a few of them by name, including multiple members of the county commissioner’s family who were a constant presence outside the polls. The majority of the Republican greeters knew just as I did that we wouldn’t be changing anyone’s mind and were only there to offer information to those who wanted it.
While most were friendly or quiet, there were two Republican greeters who were confrontational and often tried to draw Democratic greeters into debate. Most of us knew them by name and would inform the poll greeters group chat whenever they were on site. One is a state representative running for re-election who promotes conspiracy theories about Democrats controlling the weather to send hurricanes to Republican states. The other is a former school board member who was removed from her position after missing too many meetings, meetings she couldn’t attend without violating a civil stalking protection order that requires her to stay 500 feet from a fellow board member.
Between handing out cards and acting as unofficial parking lot attendants, I spent much of my first shift talking music with a greeter who played guitar at his church. The closest we came to having a political discussion was when he inquired about my shirt’s slogan — Vote like your daughter's rights depend on it.
"What does that mean?" he asks, pointing to my shirt. “Is that about abortion?”
I tell him how I want my daughters to have the same freedoms over their bodies that women have had for the past fifty years. How the rollback of Roe vs. Wade has impacted hospitals' ability to aid pregnant women at risk of a miscarriage because it could be viewed as performing abortion services and putting the doctors at risk of violating anti abortion laws. I conclude by telling him that many women have died or faced serious health issues as a result of the Supreme Court's reversal of Roe.
"Yeah, but you gotta admit, abortion is a terrible thing."
"No one has an abortion because it's fun. It's a medical decision that should be left between a woman and her doctor."
He left it at that. Five minutes later, he was showing me pictures of his guitar and soundboard.
When you're outnumbered 2-1 in the county, there is a brief moment of joy every time you connect with a fellow Democrat. These interactions are typically punctuated by fist bumps, thumbs up, and, for some greeters, the occasional hug.
"How's the turnout looking today?" a voter in a Harris/Walz t-shirt asks. The expression on her face tells me she’s both hopeful and concerned. " Have you handed out many cards?"
"I'm halfway through my stack, about to head back to the car for more," I tell her reassuringly, even though I'm vastly overestimating. This sets her at ease until a pickup truck rumbles past covered in MAGA stickers and Let's Go Brandon! flags. A guy in mirrored sunglasses and a red hat exits the truck, yelling, "Make America great again!" His T-shirt says, 'I'm Voting for the Felon.' The shirt looks new, but the sleeves are cut off.
"I just don't get it," she says as she walks away. "It's like a cult."
"Thanks for coming out," I say as she leaves.
Being a poll greeter boils down to these key points: be friendly, don't argue or be aggressive, and if anyone tries to start an argument, de-escalate and disengage. If this doesn't work, get the sheriff's deputy involved. We are also told to record these heated exchanges if/when they occur.
A Democratic volunteer who relieved me at the end of my first shift shared his experience from the previous year's General Election when he was surrounded by a group of anti-abortion voters. "They got up in my face and screamed, 'You're a baby killer!'" he yelled, stepping close to me to demonstrate. "There wasn't a deputy here that day, I'm glad there's one here now." Before I left, he repeated his story multiple times, including sharing it with the Republican greeters and the deputy on duty.
Despite some unpleasant barbs from passing voters, nothing got so heated that it required de-escalation or deputy intervention to break up. That's not to say there weren't any rude voters because there were plenty. One guy even made a point to call everyone communists, not just the Democrats, but the Republicans as well for being enablers. By my fourth day of volunteering, I developed a token response whenever my offer of a voting slate was met with snide comments and rude behavior.
"Have the day you deserve."
Despite the stranglehold Republicans have in the region, recent years have given Democrats in Butler County hope that their grip might finally be slipping. In the November 2023 General Election, Democrat-backed state initiatives received over 50% of the vote in the county, including an amendment to codify reproductive freedom into the state constitution. The local Democratic Party has made a huge push towards getting out more yard signs, more canvassers, and more phone bankers, which has translated to more voter enthusiasm. There is also an issue on the ballot this year that would address Ohio’s gerrymandered districts. The issue seems likely to pass and would give Democrats a more representative voice in the state electorate once maps were redrawn.
Perhaps the biggest surprise was the pickup truck that pulled into the parking lot with blue flags waving from the tailgate. I see so many trucks waving MAGA & Let’s Go Brandon flags (and the less discreet Fuck Joe Biden ones) that I tune them out. It wasn’t until the driver stepped out in his White Dudes for Harris t-shirt that I realized that the flag in the back was a Harris/Walz flag done up in the same font and design of the Trump flags that have been a staple in the region for the last ten years.
While there is optimism among local Democrats, the reality is that Donald Trump will likely win Butler County this year. In 2020, Trump carried Butler County by 20+ points. The last time a Democratic Presidential Candidate won Butler County was in 1964, when Lyndon B. Johnson bested Barry Goldwater by 965 votes, 50.63%—49.37%. No one is forecasting a blue wave, but with the efforts of local volunteers, high voter turnout, and recent shifts in Democratic performance in the county, there is hope that a shift from red to purple is attainable.
After my experience greeting voters at the polls these past weeks, I’d be thrilled with magenta.