Toilet paper and trepidation: an unusually tense US election

Fear, tension, concern, and excitement are the emotions South African Jewish expats living in the United States were feeling as their adopted home went to the polls on 3 November. Some stood in lines, while others mailed in their ballots early, but none took their democratic right to vote for granted.

“It was a surreal day. The weather was crisp and the leaves were falling endlessly. In spite of the cold, long lines formed from about 05:30, which reminded us of the pictures we saw when South Africa had its first democratic election,” says Ilan Fogel, speaking to the SA Jewish Report from Stamford, Connecticut late on Tuesday.

“My experience in the US during the elections has been one of despair at the overall apathy when it came to voting – always cognisant of what it meant not to have the vote, and feeling that Americans were spoilt and took too much for granted,” he says.

“So it was fascinating and encouraging to see lines around the block of voters waiting to cast their ballots, as I had never seen this before. In fact, it was announced that before the first voting station had even opened today, as many as two-thirds of the number of people in total who voted in the last election had already cast early or absentee ballots. Whichever candidate you were supporting, I found it encouraging that people were, in fact, voting.

“The atmosphere is definitely tense. People are incredibly divided, angry at one another, and intolerant of opinions differing from their own. There is a lot of animosity in the community, friendships have broken up, families are fighting, and shul members no longer talk to each other.

“Things are very much up in the air, but it’s my fervent wish that we have a clear winner, and that whoever that might be, we are able to accept the will of the people as a nation and move on to heal and build a healthier future.”

Lindy Miller, who ran for Georgia public service commissioner in 2018, wrote on Facebook, “In 1977, my parents moved to Atlanta from South Africa. They wanted to have children and raise a family in a country where everyone had a voice and a vote.”

She said that on Tuesday she volunteered to be a poll watcher to ensure the poll opened on time, and that voters could vote on what was “the most important election day of my lifetime”. Her parents had inspired her interest in politics, so she was taken aback when her mother expressed fear when she told them she was going to be a poll watcher. “The fact that my parents are fearful of me being subject to violence as a poll watcher is a disgraceful reality of our nation’s present,” said Miller. “Going to vote should never again be a dangerous act in America. My mom encouraged me to reconsider and to ‘think of my children’. I told her that’s exactly what I was doing.”

Grant Gochin in Los Angeles says that where he lives, “everyone received mail-in ballots. My family voted weeks ago. I have been in the US for 34 years, and I have never seen such division or hostility. Families and communities are pitted against each other, and there is great unease.

“The most basic premise of democracy is a peaceful transition of power, and that’s in doubt. Our democracy is damaged, our society is fractured, and I don’t know how healing can begin after this is over. There is only fear, tension, and angst. Gun sales are through the roof. This isn’t the aspirational America I came to. It’s a divided, nasty, and bitter America, and I hope we can recover quickly.”

Esther Brozin Feder in Los Angeles says she and her family voted early in mail-in ballots. Speaking to the SA Jewish Report on Tuesday morning, she said, “I have been here for 35 years and would never have imagined we would be in this situation. I say this both for the soul of the nation and for the security of this country.”

She shared a video of the streets of Beverly Hills from the day before, as shops were boarded up and security increased in case of election violence. “We are all hunkered down for an election – what part of that in a democratic society is normal?” she asked rhetorically. “The hatred and fear is real and felt on the streets. I’m petrified to see what today brings.” When asked if there was any sense of excitement or celebration often felt on election day, she responded, “The pandemic is at all of our doorsteps. There will be no joy until people stop getting sick and dying.”

Shelley Shub in Atlanta says, “With half a heart I approached the building where I’m supposed to vote. I’ve been feeling between a rock and a hard place for the past year about whom I’d vote for. I walked in, proud to be a naturalised citizen of this great country, without a doubt.

“My mind was decided, and I said a small private prayer asking Hashem to help me with my conviction. There was no line whatsoever, plenty of available screens, and smiling, helpful volunteers. And before I knew it, I was done. Baruch Hashem, my civic duty is over for now. What the result will be is another story altogether. May Hashem bless this country and its people. Today, I’m a proud American.”

For Caron Gremont, election day reminded her of her first Pesach in Israel. “I remember sitting in traffic as we drove to my friend’s family. I had never before felt so connected to an entire people as we all sat together on the Ayalon highway with parts of the meals on our laps and bottles of kosher wine in the backseat, trying to get to the seder.

“Fast forward many years. Today I’m living just outside of Washington, D.C. with my husband and two children, and we are all anxiously awaiting the election results. Like everyone around me, we’re sharing this experience. Conversations with strangers always include ‘Did you already vote?’ and Zoom meetings with colleagues inevitably include questions like ‘What’s on your election-night menu?’ and ‘How are you spending election day?’ My husband and 12 year old spent the day calling voters whose ballots weren’t counted in key swing states across the country.

“We are all sharing this experience in a way I have never witnessed in America, in red, blue, and purple states. It feels like Passover in Israel, except we aren’t all on the same road. Voting is at an all-time high, and so is fear. It feels like the nation is collectively waiting for biopsy results, and some of us will see those results and celebrate like never before, and others will see the results and fear it’s a death sentence.

“The retail and business centre just a bit further away is already boarded up, preparing for the violence that might come tonight, tomorrow, or later this week. I’ve stocked up on toilet paper and hope for a better tomorrow.”