I volunteered as an election observer out of fear and trepidation. Bad stuff — ICE presence, in particular — wasn’t out of the question. But I was well-trained, ready to record incidents and answer questions, and poised to reach out for help if needed.
What I didn’t anticipate was a six-hour stint that would underscore everything I love about this city. The worst failed to materialize. The best prevailed.
If a polling place is a microcosm of a city, this North Philadelphia neighborhood did itself proud. The poll workers were experienced, welcoming, and kind. They included a college student, an entrepreneur and a brother and sister of retirement age.
They could easily field any voter question. “Where does the paper ballot go?” Let me show you. “Oh no. I’m at the wrong polling place.” Let’s check and see where you are listed. “Can my son go in the voting booth with me?” Sure.
My role was more or less extraneous. I ended up perching on a chair near the door, greeting voters as they arrived and thanking them for voting as they departed. I felt more like a hostess than a keeper of democracy. It was a big relief.
The worst failed to materialize. The best prevailed.
Nonetheless, I was determined to finish my shift, even if my role was less than mission-critical. So I leaned into conversation with the polling place team — the kind of exchanges that make strangers into friends, at least for a while. We talked about kids and grand kids. About sibling rivalry. About racism in the 1960s. About building a business. About legendary family reunions. We cooed over a baby. Phone numbers were exchanged, for possible babysitting, for a future internship. Photos of pets were shared.
Did we discuss politics or the uneasy state of the union? No, it wasn’t the place. Did we, by happenstance, manifest the strength of democracy in action? Absolutely. It felt like a given, as a steady stream of citizens showed up to do their civic duty.
Then, after the final voter rushed in at 7:59, it was time to go. I logged out of the election observer app on my phone, said my goodbyes, and walked home.
Philadelphia is a beautiful, troubled city. I am proud to call it home. And the next time someone asks me about living here, I’ll share this story. It says it all.
Laura G. Bellet lives in Philadelphia.
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MORE ON THE 2026 ELECTION
Voters wait outside a polling station at the Tenth Presbyterian Church to cast their ballots on Election Day during the midterm elections in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on November 3, 2026. Americans voting in the midterm elections will decide who controls Congress for the final two years of Donald Trump's presidency, along with dozens of governorships and thousands of state offices. (Photo by Matthew Hatcher / AFP)