Colour bonding

FROM the voters’ point of view I can imagine that walking through the cavalcade of party people who are handing out howto-vote cards on election day may be an uncomfortable experience.

There is competitive energy among those who are handing out. It is tribal.

We may be noisy as we let you know which how-to-vote card we possess. There are contrasting colours in team shirts and contrasting methods by which we encourage you to take the howto-vote card.

For you, it is noise and strangers talking at you and trying to encourage you to take their how-to-vote card. It is a blur of colour and movement and language.

What may not be known about that day and those tribal participants is that most of them (at least the major parties) are volunteers.

They stand for hours in the heat of the sun or in the cold, the rain and the wind. They believe in the democratic process, their tribe and want to participate and contribute to the outcome of the day in their way.

Moreover, the parties or candidates they represent rely on them and their contribution.

Last Saturday morning my eldest daughter Bella and myself were two of those thousands of volunteers handing out for our tribe, in Geelong.

Not long after we had arrived to set up our booth for the day, volunteers from another major party arrived.

We introduced ourselves and shook hands. Aged in their midseventies it was their first time ever handing out.

They were community-minded people who love Geelong and have chosen to raise their children — and now watch their grandchildren grow up — here. Why were they handing out for their first time at this age? They were friends with the father of their candidate.

As is always the way in Geelong, after we introduced ourselves, what became clear was that while from different electoral tribes there were many connections between us.

It turned out that their son is not only our family physiotherapist but a friend and another son’s children have gone to the same local primary school as our children. We may have been handing out for different tribes but we were all part of the Geelong community.

As they were new to volunteering on a booth, I walked them through where they could set up their A-frame and the relevance of the six- metre line.

We checked the new rule about party signs and together ensured all of the candidate representatives didn’t exceed the number of signs.

One of the volunteers on our morning booth was the only volunteer rostered for his candidate for the entire day.

He stood on the concrete path from 8am until 6pm. He had to pay for his volunteers’ T-shirt, had to pack his own lunch and ate it intermittently in quiet moments throughout the day. He was a lovely bloke. He knew many of the same people and we found ourselves, in those long quiet moments, developing camaraderie.

Later in the day, while briefly filling in for those handing out on a booth in the northern suburbs of Geelong, a man handing out for another tribe came up and said g’day and advised that he had spent several days of last week in our backyard.

It was a weird introduction but as it turns out he was helping our neighbour tear down the fence that borders our properties in advance of the new fence being built. More connections.

Back on our booth in the afternoon, there was sufficient bonding between most of the volunteers that lollies were shared and conversations were had about which local netball and footy teams were well positioned for the 2019 season.

There was talk of Christmas and the upcoming holidays and how family is always a blessing and sometimes a curse. There was laughter and respect.

And then it was six o’clock and the doors of the booth were shut so that counting could begin. Some of us scrutineered, some went home and some went to the elections parties to watch the results come in. Whatever we did after our booth closed, we all made a contribution, we honoured the democratic process and in the process made new friends and got to know and understand our community a little better. Rachel Schutze is a principal lawyer at Gordon Legal, wife and mother of three. [Ed’s note: Ms Schutze is married to Corio MP Richard Marles.]