A few weeks ago I posted this diary, asking for advice on volunteering - I was nervous but determined to help out. Lots of kossacks posted very helpful ideas and reassuring stories. So what happened?
The weekend directly after the diary I actually didn't make it to the volunteer office - my nerves got the better of me.
The weekend after that my husband and I went to the Center City, Philadelphia Office and they asked us to register people to vote. We stood out near the main train station and asked passersby if they were registered. The only problem - the area was saturated with Obama volunteers, and we actually were asked several times by other Obama volunteers whether we were registered. We registered a few people - but overall the experience wasn't that satisfying.
But this weekend...
...they opened up a new office in the West Philadelphia/University City area, a few blocks away from where we live. We got a few phone calls that they would be gathering and sending people out to canvass at three, so we showed up then. One of the organizers gave us a map and a list of addresses, for people who were "probably Obama supporters, but not reliable voters". We were supposed to knock on their doors, make sure they were registered to vote, ask them if they were supporting Obama, and impress upon them how important the vote in PA was.
Just an aside, for those of you who aren't familiar with Philadelphia. The city is divided by a narrow river - east of the river is Philadelphia proper, and west of the river is called West Philadelphia. Nearly all the sky rises are on the east side of the river but the west side is no less urban. Actually, for many years the west side was extremely poor and beset by violence (that's where the Fresh Prince originally hailed from) but over the past ten years the University of Pennsylvania (which is just west of the dividing river) has led a pretty successful gentrification effort in that area. The blocks between 30th street and about 45th street are now quite diverse, full of successful businesses, and the safest in Philadelphia. I'm a postdoc at the University and we live on 43rd street, in the gentrified area. There's not really much reason for us to leave the safe and more well-off parts of Philadelphia and in general we've avoided doing so.
The map the volunteer gave us was for an area around 52nd street, an area that had most definitely not been gentrified. Despite the fact that this part of town was less than 15 blocks from where we live we had never been there. This part of town has a high concentration of minorities, is very poor, and contributes to Philadelphia's reputation as one of the countries most violent big cities. I asked the organizer if it was safe.
"Just wear your Obama buttons," she said. "People there respect that."
So, out we went. When we first got there I felt really out of place. The neighborhood had obviously been ravaged economically. The houses were perhaps beautiful many many years ago, but the word that came to my mind when I saw them was "sagging". This had not stopped many people from doing their best to enhance them - some had very bright flowers in the yard, one lady had dozens of glass spirals hanging from her porch, and best of all there were lots of Obama signs, which made me feel more at home. We started knocking on doors.
This is what we saw:
One woman who answered the door had not registered to vote and said her husband hadn't either. We registered her and she said her husband was quite sick but if he could make it downstairs to sign the form he would. Not long later he came down the stairs, holding his stomach and looking very ill, but determined to register. They said they were definitely going to vote, and they even knew where the polling place was, but they hadn't known where to get the forms.
Three somewhat older gentlemen sitting on the porch of a house that was not on our list called out to us : "do you have any buttons?" We said no, but one of them was so disappointed I offered to give him one of mine. "I can't take that," he said, "that's your free pass around here." Then he insisted on proudly showing us his voter registration card, and he told us how he was telling everyone in the neighborhood that "you can't just talk about it - you've got to actually show up to vote!" As we were leaving they asked "is he going to win?" and I said there was a very good chance but it would be even greater if they could get all their friends to the polls. "He's got to win," said one of them. "We need some help around here." It was heartbreaking.
The most heartwarming moment, though, was when we were knocking on a door and several neighborhood children were listening in. We asked the person at the house "is this an Obama house?" and they answered yes, enthusiastically. This sparked an argument among the children, and finally they asked us to settle it - one girl thought that the response meant that Obama actually lived there and an older boy was insisting that it just meant the person was going to vote for Obama. We told the (very disappointed) girl that Obama lived in Chicago, and then they got very excited, and asked if that was close by and could they visit him. Finally one of them asked for one of the pamphlets we were holding, and then we said goodbye. A few houses later they were following us down the street - they all wanted pamphlets.
By the time we stopped, I felt completely comfortable (except for the fact that it was pouring down rain) in a part of town I'd always been nervous about. And many people who I think would have been very distrustful of us otherwise greeted us enthusiastically. All because of the Obama buttons on our shirts. Today we lived out Obama's promise: a few metal circles printed with his name opened up the door for me to finally talk to my neighbors, and for other white canvassers across the city to finally talk to their black neighbors, and such conversations will embolden future conversations, and future trust, and I hope, I hope, this broken beautiful city may start to heal.