As I thought about voting this year, I reminisced fondly about being a poll worker in November 2021, back when I was a high school senior, horribly burnt out from the whirlwind of college applications. That year, my government teacher asked if any students wanted to work the polls that fall. I had no idea what to expect, but always open to trying something new, I eagerly signed up. Poll working was an incredible and eye-opening experience.

Before Election Day, I took a special pollworking class where we practiced setting up polling stations and learned how to check in voters. On Election Day, I arrived at my polling station at 5:30 a.m. and prepared to open the polls an hour later. That day, a group of other poll workers and I set up and dismantled polling booths, greeted voters at the front door, checked them in and ensured voting went smoothly for everyone.

The other people I worked with came from all walks of life and adhered to various political beliefs. I worried that, due to our disparate backgrounds, we would not get along. But pollworking unified us. We all shared a larger purpose: to ensure the electoral process worked seamlessly for hundreds of people. Some seasoned poll workers took me under their wing and taught me about the voting process. During scarce moments of free time, we spoke about our personal lives.

I felt an immense sense of connection with my fellow poll workers as we ran the polling station like a well-oiled machine. Experiencing that much selflessness made me reconsider my feelings about political polarization. Initially I held the pessimistic view that we were divided beyond repair.

Pollworking made me realize that we may be somewhat exaggerating the severity of polarization. I’m aware that political partisanship is a major issue in our society today. But if we take a moment to look past the superficial characteristics of people—say, their political affiliations—and see them as humans first, you may find that they have some wonderful traits and share common ground with you on a wide spectrum of topics.

Todd Rose, a neuroscientist who founded the nonpartisan think tank Populace, has found that many Americans experience “collective illusion”—that is, we mistakenly believe that many people on the other side hold more extremist views than they actually do. We overestimate our level of division. Oftentimes, the opinions that Americans outwardly express don’t reflect what they privately believe. In fact, by taking the time to know each other’s personal opinions, it is certainly possible to find common ground somewhere. I am hopeful, even in today’s fraught political climate, that we can still peacefully coexist.

During my 16-hour workday, I interacted with hundreds of people. But I’ll never forget the conversation I had with an older gentleman. He said it was great how someone my age was participating in the political process. While he meant it in an encouraging way, his words made me think twice. Why should I get a pat on the back for being there? Thinking back, with the exception of another high school student, the other poll workers were either middle-aged or retired. Almost everyone who voted was decades older than me; nearly no one my age came to vote.

While this could be attributed to people voting early or filling out absentee ballots, it reaffirms a long-standing reality: Even though American voters aged 18-29 have voted at historically high rates in recent elections, we are still the demographic with the lowest rates of turnout and political participation. Reasons for this occurrence include inexperience, challenges with voter registration and obtaining proper ID and most importantly low political efficacy—people believing their vote will not matter in the face of a seemingly incorrigible political system. Feeling hopeless is not limited to young people; a recent AP News poll found that over 66% of adults are pessimistic about the state of U.S. politics.

I used to feel the same way before becoming a poll worker.

For many students in the U.S., civics education is sorely lacking. So, while I knew voting was good, I didn’t understand the significance of voting or how I could contribute to the electoral process in other ways besides voting.

In November 2021, I couldn’t vote and desperately wished to counteract the helplessness I felt about the state of politics. Being a poll worker diminished how powerless I felt because now I had the ability to somehow contribute to a functional democracy.

I used to think my vote was worthless. But then I saw how excited people were to vote. One woman was overjoyed when we gave her a way to vote without proper ID. It didn’t matter that it was an election in which the incumbent was destined to win a position of power again. These voters’ unrelenting excitement was infectious and showed me why voting mattered. From then on, I had an impetus to vote because it felt good to do my due diligence as a citizen. It instilled in me a firm belief that my vote will be meaningful regardless of the election outcomes for my hometown, state and country.

Although so many question our political system’s integrity, I saw firsthand how well-run the polls were, enabling hundreds of people to successfully vote. Seeing our right to free and fair elections remain steadfast and resilient gives me a sense of optimism in our country’s ability to uphold democracy this fall, come what may.