I took the day off work to volunteer for Jim Webb and Virginia Democrats. I put about 100 miles on my car driving around Northern Virginia, flushing and dragging, handing out literature, and making runs to polling places.
I wondered how much effect I could have had, because most doors I knocked had nobody home or the person at the door said they had already voted. I wasn't changing any opinions or making a difference in the vote total. Or was I? I few stories (on the flip) stand out and serve to make the day worthwhile.
1. The ride that never came
I started my route going door to door and saw a very heavy set woman sitting on her porch, at one of "our" households. When I asked if she'd had a chance to vote she said she was waiting for her ride.
At the end of my route almost two hours later she was still there. A family member pulled up and seemed to have an argument with her. I stepped in and asked if she still needed a ride, could I take her to the polling place? Both she and her (daughter?) family member had an instant expression of relief. On the short ride over I got her to vote against the state's hate amendment ballot question. She clearly knew almost nothing about politics except that she had a nephew in Iraq and wanted change.
On the way back from the polling station I let her know that I was from DC, where we have no Senators and no voting House representation. Of course, she was surprised, despite the fact that she lives 5 miles away from the District. Spreading the word about DC disenfranchisement was a bonus.
2. The Latina housewives
All day I was asking the Fairfax County Democratic people to send me somewhere that I could use Spanish if they thought that was important. I drove from place to place and was glad to help, but no Latinos. Finally, in the last few hours, they said "go to this neighborhood, not Hispanic, but very important to get someone out there." First house, I saw the familiar look, the scared "I no speak-a.. speak, I sorry" before I put her at ease with a stream of Spanish intended to have that effect (I am a pasty faced gringo). The "Hablo Espanol" sign was all wrinkled and unreadable by 4 PM.
What a change it makes. My grammar is pretty lame, but I can keep the banter going pretty well. She said her husband can vote and I explained how important it is in such a close race, etc. etc. My gut tells me that neither she nor her husband voted, but she got the word. The Democrats are in town. We speak her language, and we want her to participate. There were several others in this supposedly non-Hispanic neighborhood. In every case it was the same, the curiosity of an Irish-looking guy standing in the rain chatting eagerly en espanol was fun for them. Some were not citizens. Some had voted. Some were working towards citizenship (I said we'll see you in two years!) One teen was so relieved when he could leave the doorstep and not have to translate this boring conversation for his grandmother, who was quite animated. 100% Democrats, by the way.
Many Asian households had folks who did not speak English. It was awkward for a moment, but then, how great was it to just point to my flier that said "VOTE" and my sticker that said "Webb" and see their face light up, "ya ya i vote ya" and a thumbs up. Awesome.
3. Front porch conversion
I had several lengthy conversations with voters at their homes, but frankly, they were mostly people who had already voted so I was trying to extract myself so I could talk to more voters. Nevertheless, I lingered and carried on because this is an investment. We need to take advantage of this year's enthusiasm to cement the brand and maybe get folks to think about doing next time what I did this time. One lady said she liked Lynn Swann and I said yeah, great player, wouldn't want him as my governor though. Told her about Heath Shuler, whom she remembered (this is Redskins territory) and we laughed about the irony that good ball players may make bad politicians and vice versa. None of those races mattered, and she had already cast her ballot for Webb, so I tried to move on.
And then Pablo (not his real name). Pablo started with "I don't vote any more" and after I probed, his life story poured out. His battle with mental illness. His struggle to make ends meet and his shame at how his neighbors were all working and he had tried and failed. His nervous breakdown and the inability to pay attention to or process information on political races.
It was the last hour before polls closed. I had been told that this traditionally Democratic precinct was underperforming so I asked him what matters to him. He said "traditonal family, family values, faith." Oh shit, I thought. Tough sell. I talked up Webb, tried to motivate him on social programs like SSI and SSDI, which I assumed were his lifelines, and economic justice. He was impressed with Webb, the decorated veteran. (He dived on a grenade to get the Navy Cross, right? Well, that's what I said). Pablo didn't tell me his name til the end and he was very ambiguous-looking racially. He kept saying a lot about the importance of God, the Bible, and looked at me funny when I said something negative about Bush (I recovered, and talked about Bush with some respect but disapproval, and his head nodded...). I said a little bit about how George Allen had managed to offend many people based on race and that he really wasn't somebody that we need as a U.S. Senator.
I felt like I had him sold on Webb being a good choice, but his wife was making dinner and he wasn't going anywhere. Finally, I bit my tongue and said something I may regret forever. I told him about the marriage amendment on the ballot. Yes, this is bad. I was smoking out a vote to solidify the homophobia in Virginia's constitution.
Major ethical dilemma for me because I feel much more strongly about gay marriage than most other issues. But I also gave him the argument about defiling the Constitution that Thomas Jefferson wrote, the one that served as a model for our own Constitution, and the fact that gay marriage is already firmly prohibited in Virginia. I told him that I disagreed with him on this issue and that I was doing a no-no by being this honest with him, but I was doing it out of respect (and desperation, but I didn't say that). He was very impressed and said he would get his kids and go vote. (That was my argument for voting: be an example to your kids).
I have no idea how he voted or whether he voted. I suspect he didn't go. But maybe, just maybe, he did.
4. Somali voters on a wild ride
After Pablo, I was wiped out. There were a few more houses on my route and only 35 minutes before polls close. I said WTF and hit 3 more houses. Well dressed Asian businesswoman (Indonesian? Thai?) who was glad to see me and say that she and her husband voted for Webb. Retiree who also was proud of her household's three votes for Democrats. A nobody home and then back to my car. My wife wanted me home for dinner but I had to just stop at the polling place on my way back to DC.
Not sure why I wanted to do that, maybe to drop off my extra literature, maybe to high five a group of volunteers for closure, but there were there were these two dark-skinned women in head scarves, looking worried. They were turned away because they were at the wrong polling place. It was dark and rainy and they were trying to figure out if they could get a cab in time to get to the polling place. There was no way. I knew it was in the opposite direction of home for me, rolled my eyes, said "hop in" and off we went into the night.
Only one of them had any English-speaking skills and she miraculously knew her way around. We battled the heavy traffic and rain, breaking who knows how many traffic laws, and got to the school at 7:05. Too late. And we couldn't find the entrance. We all got out and I sprinted through the muddy schoolyard to find an entrance and a friendly poll worker. The two Somali ladies trudged after me. I found the gym, pounded on the door until a poll worker came out.
I begged and pleaded. He shook his head and told me the machines were closed. It was 7:15. My hope that they could have slipped into a long line was dashed when we saw the empty parking lot. I asked them to go and plead too, since they looked more sympathetic than me. To no avail.
We got back in the car and headed to their home. I gave them a pep talk and we joked (via translator) about how Webb needs to win by more than 2 votes now. These ladies are loyal Democrats and will be back. With time to spare next time.
Now it's a day later. I am in bed sick listening to Tom Reynolds give the speech that I feared Howard Dean or Rahm Emmanuel would have had to give. He looks like a fool, pointing the finger at everyone but himself. I'm watching the vote totals in Virginia and dreading my joke becoming not so funny. And I'm watching Bush make a total ass of himself, bragging about his lie on Rumsfeld and using words like "pundintry" and just being himself.
Daily Kos will continue to be crowded with stories about and reactions to the election, so my little diary may escape notice, but I'm glad I documented it and hope one or two other people are inspired to volunteer in the future.