"Are you a real Democrat?"
It was my first door answered by a Real Person, on my first day of canvassing ever. I had introduced myself as a volunteer for Kay Hagan and asked for "Michelle." A suspicious eye peered through a narrow crack. Her question wasn't on my script.
Think on your feet, SG. "Yes, absolutely. I've been a registered Democrat since 1992, and I'm out today supporting the Hagan campaign." I pointed to my badge. "The real deal." The door inched open, and her manner softened. "I'm sorry. I heard about Tillis people going around saying they're Democrats and giving people bad information."
Um, wow. Not expecting that one! Michelle was already on board with Kay but wasn't aware of the early voting days and hours, so I wrote them down for her. She thanked me for my work, reminded me to be careful, and wished me a great day.
No longer a canvassing virgin, I moved along to the next door. More stories and reflection below the squiggle.
As an conflict-averse introvert, initiating conversations with strangers makes me nervous. If the stranger is potentially hostile, you can bet I'm not going willingly. Unless you piss me off.
I'll say almost anything to anyone if I'm pissed enough. And if the 2012 election in North Carolina didn't piss me off enough to get loud, living with the result for the last two years has. When a local staffer called last week and asked me to volunteer for Senator Hagan, it was the push I needed. I said yes and signed up for Saturday afternoon shift canvassing in Charlotte.
Despite my trepidation, I figured I'd be paired with someone a little more experienced to get my feet wet. Um, no. There weren't enough volunteers to pair people up. I was on my own. Armed with only a script, a map, a bottle of water and a long list of voters' doors, I ventured into my assigned neighborhood.
In all, I knocked on almost 40 doors. Most weren't home or didn't answer. Two who answered said they weren't interested and one slammed the door. The sky didn't fall and my ego escaped injury. In one case I knocked on the wrong door, only to meet a pleasant gentleman who was planning to vote for Kay and thanked me for volunteering.
Shit got real at the very end of my shift. "Crystal" heard out my pitch and responded with cynicism. "I'm really not sure who I'm voting for. I don't see any difference between the parties, and I'm hearing things about Hagan I don't like."
I asked Crystal what she'd heard that bothered her. She responded that Hagan hadn't accomplished anything in six years -- a talking point Tillis and friends have been hammering in the TV ads. The sad truth is that many voters are getting their information from those ads.
I reminded her of Tillis's tax cuts for the wealthy on the backs of NC's most vulnerable citizens, his refusal of Medicaid expansion, and his open contempt for teachers and public education. "NC is now 47th in the nation in teacher pay because of the policies of Thom Tillis and the Republican General Assembly," I added. A spark of understanding. She nodded.
"My sister is a teacher," she replied. "She hasn't had a raise in ten years." At that very moment, a little girl of about three emerged from behind Crystal. She looked up at me, smiling, and said "Issues." We both LOLed.
The rest came naturally. "I'm out here on a Saturday afternoon because of kids like her. She deserves the best education in the world, and the only way to turn this state around for her is to vote for Democrats." Now I had her attention.
We talked a little more. She had a few basic questions about government structure that I was glad to answer. She didn't want to fill out a contact card, but I gave her a brochure with Kay's information, adding, "Don't take the TV ads on either side too seriously. Go online and check out each candidate's official position on the issues, then decide for yourself. And then, please vote and ask your family and friends to vote. This election is so important."
Crystal agreed to do so, and thanked me. The little girl laughed, slapped my foot, and said, "Issues. Issues!" Five minutes after we parted, the skies opened up and threw a cold shower on my first time. It went pretty well, I think.
A few closing thoughts.
1. I'm not going to tell you it's easy. It takes a lot of energy for an introvert working solo to canvass for two hours. I will definitely do it again, but would much rather have a partner. My DH has offered to step up, other local volunteers are welcome.
2. OTOH, it's not that hard. With one exception, even the people who refused contact were nice. The lone door slammer didn't hurt my feelings at all. She looked like she was already having a bad day.
3. If my very small sample is any indication, there is a lot of misinformation out there and voters are confused. Every door we knock on, every call we make, brings us closer to reaching another voter who will turn out if someone personally asks them to.
4. Engaging with voters one-to-one, through canvassing or phone banking, hones your chops on the issues. I'm more confident about having those conversations with friends and neighbors after just a couple of hours.
We're all in this together, and the stakes couldn't be higher. The momentary discomfort of risking rejection pales in comparison to a (R) Senate. Even if you've never canvassed or phone banked before, I hope this will encourage you to try it. It's not that bad. It is that important.
Canvassing is a hard job. There were days when I could feel a real, powerful connection being made with somebody, while others times I couldn't even get anyone to look me in my eyes. Constant rejection and even occasional harassment was part of the job. Still, to this day, it is the most rewarding work I’ve ever done.
Since Environment New York, I’ve started an internship with Organizing for Action. My role here is different. I’m now using my skills in writing to reach supporters in an entirely new way, but the message remains the same. If there’s something you want to be involved in, something you want to fight for, or even something brand new you want to start, it's up to you to find your inspiration and take action.