Barbara was out block walking this morning. I had called it street walking to be funny, but that’s not funny.
You know the year, you know the century, you know why she was out there. This was her third or fourth time, and next time she will be the host or group leader, whatever it’s called.
There’s an app that requires a certain permission from some higher-up, and that you learn to use the first couple times you block walk, that shows you what homes in any neighborhood may contain likely supporters of your efforts, and the inhabitants not to be angry at your approach to their door. This app is daunting at first for some, and Barbara is now good at it.
It was supposed to be a two-hour thing, but she just got home after four hours with smiles and stories. As we zoomed off to the next Resistance event, postcard writing at a Panera, she told me of her morning.
Her little group was three other ladies, two Catholic and one Jewish. Their religious backgrounds came up humorously, and they all found common ground in the strictness of their upbringing. Barbara was the youngster, which was nice for her. The leader and one other paired up immediately, and the lady left was uncertain of using the app, and even of doing the walk at all. Since Barbara was so recently a newcomer, she was ideal for encouraging her to try, and they were off.
Mainly I am writing about this because of how she came home, all in giggles and laughter. She said she could barely get away, the others were so much fun. They went to many houses, did lots of good, met and encouraged people to keep up the fight, to not give in to apathy or despair, and came away enlivened. They ended up at one of the ladies’ homes, and she invited the three in for wine, and Barbara was the only one to go home. Like I said, we are now on our second thing, writing postcards in a restaurant.
I’ve done this a few times now. Someone always supplies the cards, pens, and addresses. The genius of the process is that the addresses are not random, but particular swing voters in particular swing districts, so that your little heartfelt card might actually be the tiny push that gets someone to care enough to vote.
That’s the thing: we’ve been taught for forty years that voting doesn’t matter, and that politicians are crooks. So, by getting us to not care and not vote, the politicians that win election are the ones who have promised to do what corporations demand, which makes them more likely to be crooks, which makes us think voting doesn’t do any good. It’s one of those feedback loops that reinforce our prior thinking. But the same will be true if we all start caring again and voting: good politicians will get elected who do what is good for US, and we’ll see again that our vote matters.
Seeing a nice person at your door who is obviously volunteering their time who speaks earnestly about caring and voting, or receiving a hand-written card kindly or wittily worded, might possibly change someone’s mind about participating in the democratic process. Who knows?
But the most important thing is the fun. Barbara and I are having fun. The Resistance is a blast. It is just the thing to pick your spirits, and the country, up.