I’m a nobody. Sure, I’ve got a lovely family. I have a good job as a lobbyist for a good company. But I’m not famous. When you Google my name you get an ad for a massage therapist in Oregon and the obituary for someone in Canada.
So who the hell am I to start a Political Action Committee? I have some political experience, but in reality, I’m nobody. And a “nobody” is exactly who should be getting involved with our election process.
Like a plurality of Americans, the November election was an exercise in existential horror for me. I gave Hillary a few bucks, made some phone calls, bought some swag and I thought that was enough. Hillary certainly wasn’t a perfect candidate, but compared to Donald Trump she was Jefferson Smith (Google it kids).
Like so many Hillary voters, the horror only grew as the erratic President-Elect continued to make more outlandish statements. The nightmare culminated on January 20th when now President Donald Trump gave an inaugural address equal parts George Wallace and the Batman villain, Bane. My political depression reached its darkest depths that day.
On January 21st I tapped out a rambling message to small group of a few hundred parents that had been talking politics through the election cycle. I told them I had a crazy idea to start a Political Action Committee, “That’s right. A damn PAC. Focused on the issues we care about as parents.” I continued, “I’m feeling inspired today to do something. It is time to stop bitching on the internet and do something. Why not do something big, risky and with a chance of massive success?”
That was it. The seedling of an idea. I really only had one problem, I had no idea how to start my Damn PAC.
The response was immediate and overwhelming. A chorus of “I’m in,” with a quieter chorus of “what the hell is a PAC?”
Political Action Committees (PACs) have gotten a bad name recently, mostly because of the notorious “SuperPACs.” SuperPACs are essentially large moneyed organizations that work for a candidate or idea without directly coordinating with a campaign. Most of the time they put out a lot of literature or horrific ads like this gem from the Jeb Bush supporting SuperPAC, Right to Rise. Their advantage is that they can raise unlimited amounts of money and don’t have to disclose their donors. If you are a billionaire looking to spend $50 million on a Presidential race, a SuperPAC is the way to go.
I’m not a millionaire and I don’t know any liberal casino magnates, so a regular PAC was the way to go for a ragtag group of parents spread out across the nation. A PAC in its most basic form is a checking account with a purpose; a way to group like minded people together and combine their contributions to make an impact. Matt Erwin’s $35 donation to a congressional race is appreciated, but a PAC’s $5,000 check is noticed. Congressional races are so expensive, small donations don’t change much, but you can at least draw attention to your issues.
So we were going to make a PAC with no expertise. That seemed like a perfectly reasonable idea for a group of parents, most with small kids and full time jobs.
So we did what any political group would do; we organized a conference call. The night of the conference call we were joined by nearly 100 people including a nine-months pregnant mother, who was exhausted and also wrangling a three year old. There were moms that were listening to the call in the car on the way from picking their kids up at daycare; dads who had never participated in politics beyond voting. In other words, the call was a true cross section of America.
I laid out my vision as it was. I wanted to raise enough money to fight back against the Trump agenda in 2018 and 2020 by helping to elect the kind of men and women who shared a vision for the country I wanted my daughter to grow up in. A country with fair pay for all; a country that would respect her sexuality whatever it turned out to be; a country that values a robust and fact based education system that is available to all. In that moment that I felt so low, I was lifted up by the voices of dozens of men and women who shared that vision for their families.
There were starts, stops and challenges on the road to getting to today, the day Raising Our Future PAC reveals itself to the world. There was the process of getting 250 people to agree on a group of issues we shared as priorities and felt educated to speak about. There was the logo that we kept looking at until we nearly lost our minds. Not to mention a byzantine system of registering a PAC that seems to be designed to intimidate the non-lawyers among us. There were a thousand tasks, big and small taken on by dozens of men and women who didn’t have time to do them.
Yet here we are, ready to jump into the political trenches. We aren’t a cabal of seasoned political fundraisers. There isn’t a celebrity among us. We are just a group of people who love our families and are willing to fight to give them the best world we can make.
Our work is just beginning. Over the next year and a half we are going to do everything we can to raise money and find candidates that will put families first. Our work won’t win races single handed. But if we can offer that donation that allows a candidate to knock on an extra door and remind an exhausted single parent that it truly is important to get out and vote? Then we’ve accomplished everything we set out to do.
So that’s why a bunch of nobodies started a damned PAC. In the end, every single one of us is part of a family and Raising Our Future has created a new political family for all of us. A contribution to Raising Our Future PAC says something about you.
“This family stands for justice.”
“This family stands for education.”
“This family stands for working families.”
“This family stands for everyone.”
So join us on Facebook, on Twitter @ROF_PAC and of course our website www.raisingourfuture.org. Let’s make change together.