Although it's been 15 years since we left Massachusetts, and although we are recently naturalized, my wife and I were so offended that a Republican has Teddy's seat that we (she in particular) long ago determined to cross the country on our own dime and work for Elizabeth. So we filled out and mailed our ballots, sent a final chunk of money to Jay Inslee and Suzan DelBene (to be honest, the DelBene campaign has been weak, and apparently not interested in reaching out for volunteers until literally last week), and set off to camp with our son in central Connecticut. She's been here two weeks, commuting to Worcester, MA, and I arrived Friday.
This is, literally, a diary. No links to press articles, no quotes from candidates. Just good, honest ground game work and a few observations. Fight your way past the orange barricade if you're interested.
We're 62 and 63 years old, children of the British National Health Service, and one of us grew up in poverty ameliorated by a strong safety net and public education. So we are strong Democrats and able to talk cogently about the value of the social contract. The Warren organization here is quietly and determinedly well-organized, with its usual mix of enthusiastic 20-somethings and old hands. Jeannie has spent much of the first week in back-office work, unglamorous but essential. After the storm, which she spent in our son's basement, she has been rounding up volunteers and getting them back to work. The Teamsters headquarters in Worcester is our operational base.
The weekend began with a small rally at a union building in Auburn, where Elizabeth (that's Professor Warren to you) gave a brief call to arms, and we there then assigned a mixed-income precinct in the town, a mid-state fairly down-at-heel area that's natural Scott Brown "voting for him because he's a nice guy and For Us" country. It's hard to understand, but the polls tell us that, purely numerically, there must be a large number of Obama-Brown voters. We only got registered D's, but some households also had R's and I's in them. Being new at this game, and because Jeannie is both the only registered driver of the rental made-in-china Jeep and the best talker, out first day was pretty inefficient as she had to keep driving a hundred yards and hopping in and out. On the second day, I found I could overcome my mild Aspy's and do most of the talking.
So on Sunday we whirled around the precinct and eventually hit every flag on the map, except for a few up a farm road. We found plenty of enthusiasm for Elizabeth Warren. Not a single person needed telling where the polling place is. Most fun was the places adorned with her yard signs. This may make the exercise sound superfluous, but it deserves to be emphasized, and now I have experienced it I can sense it's true:
Simply doorbelling even a persuaded voter significantly increases the chances of them actually turning out to vote. Being the last person to talk to face-to-face puts your candidate favorably in the voter's mind.
Some voters were "still undecided" about both the President (mostly because he hasn't made things better) and Elizabeth Warren. Of those, a few were clearly lying but wanting to save face, while hopefully the genuine waverers were influenced by the visit and final appeal. One woman was for her until she heard that she wanted to give money to educate "all the immigrants'" children (she never said illegal, but meant it). That got my wife going; her appeal as immigrants ourselves made her waver, and I think my argument that educated immigrants are more useful to the economy than on-the-street immigrant may have sunk in as well. So, who knows, but maybe one persuaded. I was also presently surprised at the sophistication we encountered (this is Massachusetts, after all). The waverers were completely able to understand that Scott Brown wouldn't be able to act as a moderate if his victory meant Mitch McConnell controlling the agenda.
After a while I trained myself to memorize the voters' names and ages before ringing the bell. I was thinking "oh, 63, old person, better talk slow and offer a ride". At 63 myself, I had to reset my expectations after a while, and especially after talking to the sprightly 83-year-old who was absolutely on or side and absolutely did not need a ride!
We're going to win this one, vote by vote!
Ending with this: although I've only been a voter since 2007, and voted in person just twice, I hate the bloodless all-mail ballots of WA, all voting done at the kitchen table. Here in New England, where communities are still real, most people will march to the polls tomorrow with their kids and neighbors, marking the importance of this as an expression of community. So, extra special glad we made the pilgrimage and, given our age, I don't think we've left anything on the road.
(updated: minor edit because I accidentally published penultimate draft)