See the intro: Oh, what a feeling!
My day as a volunteer evolved from the time I called to express my interest right down to the last two hours before the polls closed. The Obama campaign was not just organized, but also agile. As needs changed or were fulfilled, the organizers quickly “re-prioritized”.
However, I was not about to turn down the opportunity to volunteer just because the task did not suit my fancy. I knew it would be hard for me, but once I had done it, I’d be better at it. I imagined it would be less intimidating next time. I was right.I had been told to report to a headquarter West of Ann Arbor, so I thought I would be canvassing in my own county. On Saturday the 1st, I got a call saying that the campaign had re-prioritized. I had the option to be bused to either Detroit or Taylor. My fear of Detroit made me freeze up, and I chose the unknown – Taylor. I looked it up on the map. I had never heard of it. Later, I regretted that I had not been more adventuresome. I wondered how many other white folks had balked at going to Detroit.Once I arrived at the headquarters from which I was to be bused, I learned that we were not going to Taylor – we were going to Inkster. I had heard of Inkster, but knew nothing about it. As I waited for all the “Inkster” people to arrive, a few friends trickled in. I knew Becky from gatherings with my in-laws. She was not family, but she was such a close friend that she was practically family. I knew Donald from his long-time friendship with my husband. We had not socialized with Donald in a number of years, but I was glad to see him.On the bus, I sat with a stranger – an African-American woman experienced with grass roots campaigning. I was curious to hear what she had to say. The most interesting thing I learned from her was just how erroneous we can be when we assume things about others. She had found unexpected common ground with a crowd of white folks with whom she was doing some outreach. It would have been very easy to get a mistaken impression of these people; however, she was wise enough not to assume, and was richly rewarded.Our fearless and exuberant leader, Adam, briefed us on the bus ride. I listened carefully, but when he was finished, I began to experience nagging thoughts that I was going to be awful at this. We would go door to door in a “get out the vote” effort. Our script was something like this:1) If no one answered the door, hang a door tag on the door, and mark the person as “not home” (or inaccessible, if we couldn’t get to the person’s door).2) Otherwise, introduce ourselves, and ask the person whether or not s/he had voted.3) If the answer was yes, then thank the person and move on.4) If the answer was no, then ask him or her whether s/he planned to vote.5) Assuming the answer was yes (I don’t remember what we were supposed to do if they said no!), ask the person whether s/he knew the location of his or her polling place. Explain where it was, if not.6) Instruct the person to turn the paper ballot over after filling out the front in order to vote for Diane Marie Hathaway, the Democratic candidate in the non-partisan Michigan supreme court race. The race was going to be close, and the Democrats believed that Hathaway was far superior to the incumbent.7) Depending on the result of the encounter, check the appropriate boxes on the paper entry for the person and move on to the next house.That does not sound very difficult, does it? Adam instructed us to form male/female pairs for safety. When the bus arrived at the Inkster headquarters, I immediately asked Donald whether he had a good memory. I knew I would have trouble remembering those steps. As it turns out, Donald had done a lot of grass-roots campaign work. I had unwittingly made an excellent choice!On a smaller bus to individual neighborhoods, I asked Donald to role-play the steps with me. I played the part of an ambivalent resident. He patiently went through the script, responding to me in very appropriate ways. I asked him many questions. When we were finished, I was even more certain that I was going to be terrible. I very much doubted whether I could be as fluid and confident as Donald. He debriefed me by explaining that most people would not be asking any questions. This news did not allay my fears about my unsuitability for the task.After reading and re-reading the script several times, I gave up, not believing that I was getting any better at it! I amused myself by showing the other volunteers the dynamic Google Map feature on my iPhone. They had called back to headquarters to find out where the polling place was. My iPhone plopped a pretty, red “push pin” right on top of the Sims St. address where the polling place was located. The other volunteers were suitably impressed.My amusement ended when the bus driver dropped Donald and me off right in the middle of a neighborhood with our respective packets. I had imagined that the big bus would park; that we would all fan out and hit a bunch of houses; that we would then move onto another location, and fan out again. I had been told that the bus would be loaded with food. I had imagined it as being a home base where I could leave my stuff and use the restroom when necessary.Not so. There was no home base. We were expected to make contact with not quite 100 residents over the space of the afternoon – by ourselves. We would be picked up only when we were finished with the entire neighborhood. Fortunately, I had packed a bag full of food for the day. Without that bag, I would have been in trouble. Being a “grazer”, I need a little bit of food frequently throughout the day.Next is the story of how Donald saved my sorry ass!
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