This week was National Low Income and Homeless Voter Registration week, an effort to register as many homeless and low income citizens as possible before the October 4th registration deadline. As part of this project, United Way of King County organized a coalition of volunteers to go to locations in Seattle offering assistance to the homeless to help them register.

The first hour of the day we learned about the registration process and how to deal with issues such as lack of a permanent address and felony convictions. Before today, I didn’t know that every city in the US has a generic post office address, known as general delivery, to which mail can be sent and held on to for a short period of time. While not explicitly for homeless people, it allows them to receive mail without having a permanent residence.

I also learned quite a bit about the impact of a felony conviction (in Washington, at least) on voting rights; most notably, a convicted felon can vote if they have paid off their “legal financial obligations” and proceed through a legal process to restore those rights. The ACLU has a site all about this, or what they call felon enfranchisement. At least one ex-felon I talked to was surprised to learn that the right to vote wasn’t out of reach once convicted.

What struck me most about the ex-felons was just how forthright they were about their crimes. One guy, when asked if he was registered to vote, replied: “I can’t; I’m a former felon and hang out with a pretty tough crowd. I’ve killed two people.” It was a unique experience to say the least. But, once I got over the initial shock of being within arm’s reach of a murderer, I really started to think about how personal (versus generic to humanity) some of these crimes were and just how big of a public threat they are after the harsh experience of prison; and, similarly, how the onerous post-prison conditions undermine rehabilitative efforts and lead to repeat offenses. For instance, incredibly high interest rates are applied to debt they incur as part of the criminal proceedings. How can a former felon recover when heavy financial burdens–exacerbated by the inability to find a quality job due to their conviction–are levied immediately after their release?

I was also surprised by how politically informed some of the homeless and low income people were. If these people, relegated to the destitute fringes of society, know more about civics and public discourse than many other freer citizens, what does that say about this country and our values? And what does it say about our efforts to deny them their right to vote? Maybe it’s the perspective gained from being subjected to the horrifying aspects of our legal system that made these people so keen on paying attention to government. It fits with the typical human condition: people are lackadaisical about matters that don’t affect them. Only when the issues have an impact on their lives do they begin to care.

All-in-all, today was pretty cool. I learned about registration, met other engaged volunteers, had the chance to speak with interesting people, and helped register 6 new voters. It may not seem like a lot, but imagine the impact of groups like ours engaging in similar efforts all across the country.

This past Saturday, I ventured down to the Seattle Public Library at 1:00pm to attend my very first Democratic caucus.

When I got there, the line to sign in was snaking around the elevator and escalator areas on the bottom floor. People were busily chatting, questioning what to expect as, for many of them, it seemed to be their first caucus. The wait actually went by quickly and before I knew it, I was standing at the front of the line for precinct 2544 (represent!) filling in my name, address and initial vote.

What’s interesting – and clearly startling – is that they didn’t ask me for my license as proof of my eligibility when I was filling out that first ballot. Even when I flashed my wallet back and forth and prodded, saying “Do you need to see identification?”, the woman behind the desk shook her head no and told me I was good to go. At this point, I realized I essentially could have taken off my jacket, got back into line and probably filled out another ballot as someone else, granted I knew their name and address.

Shrugging off that initial shock, I took my place in the auditorium seating and waited for the festivities to begin. Shortly after, an older, but spry, woman named Evelyn got on the mike and asked us to stand for the pledge of allegiance. (A pledge of allegiance, by the way, that was more disorganized than those I heard sleepily muttered during homeroom in high school). Evelyn followed this up by explaining the rules, outlining how our day would go, and informing us of what would come next.

Basically, after they counted and called out the initial tallies for each of the four precincts there, we would break off into separate rooms to go about the caucus process: Representatives for each candidate would engage in a ritual of wooing the undecideds to vote for their candidate, thus increasing the number of delegates awarded.

The first tally was a large dose of foreshadowing: Obama and Clinton started off with a delegate ration of 25:7, respectively; a ratio which only grew to favor Obama more as the undecideds were convinced – at least in my precinct – to vote for Obama. We then broke off into individual precincts and moved to smaller rooms upstairs in the library. (As a side note, in total, there were 425 people at the caucus and the organizers made it very clear that that number was unprecedented).

When we got upstairs, after they explained and whiteboarded the math they used to calculate the delegate spread, the groups for each candidate separated to opposite sides of the room and the undecideds were placed in the middle (I think this was done to throw a little levity into the situation…it worked). The groups were then given 15 minutes to fraternize with those not yet pledged to a candidate and convince them why each respective candidate deserved their vote. This was followed by a 1 minute speech from each side addressing key concerns on the part of the undecideds (the Iraq war and women’s rights, in our case). The goal of this was to assert why Obama or Clinton was the best option to solve those problems.

With that finished, we moved on to the final tally where the undecideds had to pledge their vote to a single candidate and a recount of the ballots was performed (this was also done to account for anyone who came in late).  Our facilitator then recounted the ballots, declared a 7 to 1 victory for Obama, and called the caucus to a close. Three and half hours later, we were finished.

All in all, it was a really cool process that was worth going to and the volunteers pulled it off nicely, especially considering it was a new process this year. I got the feeling that, if news stations decided to focus on events like these, people could relate more and it would incite them to participate and play their part in our democracy. When you think about it, 3.5 hours every 4 – 8 years is an incredibly insignificant amount of time to spend when you consider the impact you’re having.

Finally, there are a few points which may be interesting for people wanting to go to a caucus in the future to know:

• If you’re 17 and will turn 18 before the November election, you can caucus.
• Knowing your precinct number before you go helps, but it’s not necessary.
• Don’t worry if you think your lack of political knowledge will make you an outcast. Plenty of people were slightly less than knowledgeable. Say you’re undecided and watch as all those that are in the know work to educate you.
• The caucus cost the Democratic Party of Washington $11,000 just for our four precincts alone. Show up to make sure this money put to its max effective use!
• These are pretty spirited events. People were “woo!”ing for their precincts and intensely interested in the outcome. Passion. Caring. That’s our democracy.
• You can volunteer to be a delegate for the county caucus if you want to play a bigger part in your state’s election process (two people are needed per delegate: one primary, one as a backup).
• You’ll be surprised at how invested you feel in the process and the outcome after attending.
• This only happens once every 4 or 8 years, so go if you can!

If you’re interested, my raw notes from this event are available here (they’re rough and were taken on a mobile phone, so forgive any terseness or typos). I recommend taking a look – a lot happened that I couldn’t fit into this post.