(C) Daily Kos This story was originally published by Daily Kos and is unaltered. . . . . . . . . . . My First-Time Canvassing Story: GET PSYCHED [1] ['This Content Is Not Subject To Review Daily Kos Staff Prior To Publication.'] Date: 2024-10-31 Like many of you, I didn’t want to wake up on November 6th thinking “Did I really do all I could have done?” This summer, I wrote a giant pile of letters to swing states over the course of a few months, and sent them off on the first day recommended by my volunteer org. And still… I wanted to do more this year. Having blown a paycheck’s worth on envelopes and postage (840 letters adds up), I looked around for events in my area that took more time than money. I wanted in on the ground game that everyone says is the best method for reaching voters. I wanted to stop my usual introversion urges and get out there canvassing. I found an event: I could sign up to take a bus to a “nearby” swing state, knock doors Saturday afternoon, get put up in a hotel for the night, and canvass all day Sunday. Then it’d be back on the bus and we’d be home by bedtime. So I got trained over Zoom during the week, got up at 4:45 Saturday morning (oof) and Ubered down to the local campaign headquarters where the buses gathered in the parking lot. Around 100 of us got on the road for a trip that took a lively four hours and change. I got to know my bus-buddy to ensure neither of us were to be left behind, and eventually we rolled into a little mini-mall in what looked like an industrial section of town. My First Time Canvassing The swing state town was big enough to matter, but the field office was a bit smaller than the one on Dem home ground. Trying to assign door-knocking turf to 100 volunteers, even with the handy app designed for the purpose, took some time. But we were psyched: this was a good problem to have! I went around back to where a coordinator gave us some more training specific to the state, such as saying where the polling places were, the hotline for if a resident hadn’t gotten a ballot, and so forth. Then I got back in line to get my turf assignment. While I waited, a steady stream of drivers grabbed volunteers going to clusters of destinations, and I realized every volunteer’s car was essential when they had a surge of people-power like this. My bus-buddy shared an Uber with some others and was gone well before I was ready. No problem. I said, “I’m not choosy, put me where you need me. Whatever you’ve got left.” I was given a turf 50 miles away. About five minutes later, the field office folks conferred and agreed there was little point to sending me that far solo — they’d hit that place the next day with the bus and a bigger group of volunteers. Instead, I got a ride to their sister office a suburb over, got turf in that town, and another ride dropping me at my destination. An Introvert on the Street So there I was, a few hundred miles from home, alone, on foot, with a pile of flyers and an app telling me to knock on doors and ask strangers questions for the first time ever. The first person I canvassed was the easiest. He was standing out by his truck in his front yard, had already voted blue up and down the ballot, and thanked me for volunteering, saying “I don’t know how you guys do it.” We shared a smile: I didn’t really know how to do this either, but nothing ventured, nothing gained! Most everyone else on the 3-4 streets I hit had already been canvassed earlier by a related group, a PAC local to the state. Unfortunately, this meant that most people were kind of annoyed at having been bothered twice, but there wasn’t much I could do about it. Since it’s actually illegal for a political campaign to coordinate with an outside group, we couldn’t share our data of which houses had been hit already. (Anyone think that’s stopping Musk? Riiiiight.) Some houses had signs saying things like “NO SOLICITING — REFER ALL INQUIRIES TO GERMAN SHEPHERD,” and they weren’t kidding. Other people were friendly and said they voted already, so I could check them off. Rather importantly, that meant we could stop bothering them and focus on other, more persuadable households. (Mentioning this was a good way to keep them cheery.) I hit 17 houses in my first pass, and was getting tired out and dried out. My bag was heavy enough to make my shoulder ache, I was sweating under my jacket, and one of my ankles started taking some stress. I had to stop and sit on the curb to drink a little water. At the next few houses, I saw flyers identical to the ones I was leaving, and followed their trail until I ran into two other volunteers. They gave me a ride in their car and we coordinated — they were almost done. They’d take four more and I’d go in the other direction down the street to get the last two. And Then There Was Jerry The second-to-last house, no one was home. I was ready to give up, but I went to the last house and knocked anyway. Answering the door was this 60-something guy I’ll call Jerry. I started off with the standard patter: “Hey, sorry to bother you, I’m a volunteer with the state Democrats and... (tired grin) ...you’ve probably heard there’s a really big election coming up.” And Jerry lights up, comes out of the house, and plops down on a chair in front of his porch. Big smile. He’s like, “Yeah, yeah, tell me all about it.” I thought he was messing with me, and got nervous because I’d have to remember my shpiel about what the presidential and Senate candidates’ positions were on any particular topic. I know my senator’s positions, but assembly members in another state? Oh, heck no. But he said, “Do you have a ballot I can use?” “Um,” I said, “we’re with the campaign, not the government. We don’t have ballots. The state should have sent you one already in the mail.” At this point, another 60-something guy comes to the door. Maybe a roommate, maybe a relative, maybe his lover, who knows? This guy says, “Oh, Jerry, you said you didn’t want to vote this year, so I threw out your ballot.” “Oh,” I said, not adding the word crap. This was actually more familiar territory. “Well, there’s a couple of ways you can still vote. You can go to a polling place, like the student union at the local university, most of the public libraries… early voting’s still on until November 1st.” “Yeah, yeah,” said Jerry’s friend. “I gotta make this up to you, I’ll drive you tomorrow.” I said my goodbyes, because they’d already covered the next part of the conversation, which was me encouraging them to commit to a plan, preferably voting early so they wouldn’t be stuck in a line on Election Day. With my 19th house finished, I returned to the car, and said the words every canvasser wants to hear: “I got one.” The Point The next day we had more time, my bus-buddy and I successfully paired up. We handled 50 more houses, again coordinating with other volunteers when our turfs got too close or when I could run some flyers to another canvasser who’d run out. By the time the bus got me back home, I was starving, sore, and tired. Yes, the campaign office had tons of pizza, water, and sugar before we left, but the bus didn’t stop for dinner on its return trip. I didn’t care. I got to sleep Sunday night feeling like I’d done something. So if you’re out there in this last weekend before the election, and it’s hot and the wind’s blowing dust from the road in your eyes, and you’re thinking about calling it quits, I just want to say: Push through. Go to that last house on the block. In the words of the poet, “Be as stubborn as those garbage bags that time cannot decay.” You never know what might happen. [END] --- [1] Url: https://www.dailykos.com/stories/2024/10/31/2281198/-My-First-Time-Canvassing-Story-GET-PSYCHED?pm_campaign=front_page&pm_source=latest_community&pm_medium=web Published and (C) by Daily Kos Content appears here under this condition or license: Site content may be used for any purpose without permission unless otherwise specified. via Magical.Fish Gopher News Feeds: gopher://magical.fish/1/feeds/news/dailykos/