Obama Magic

On Saturday morning, I walked into the North side Obama headquarters in Cincinnati with three fellow Chicagoans. We were eager to be in a place that needed us. We arrived an hour early due to a communication glitch in the well-oiled Obama internet machine, so we sat around HQ reading material on Barack’s positions, digesting the debate (that we watched with a group of neighbors at my house the night before), and getting pumped to go talk to voters. It was finally time. Several Cincinnatians (including by coincidence my elementary school librarian that I had not seen for over a decade), a group from Louisville, KY, and the four of us gathered around the campaign workers to get the “training.” Training is a generous word for what actually occurs. Nonetheless, the sporadic and blunt 5-minute explanation suffices. After the speedy overview we were given our canvassing assignments. Tylar, the out-of-state volunteer coordinator handed us our packets, and said, “You’ll be going out to the West Side.”

For those of you who don’t know Cincinnati, the West Side is the republican stronghold. It is white, middle class God-lovin’ country. It of course has its diversity, but my experience has led me to believe it is few and far between. So with little hope of finding many on our side, we set off.
Johanna and I approached the first door with caution. A young blond woman answered.
“Hi, my name is Johanna, and this is Jessica, we’re here with the Obama campaign. We’re just walking around the neighborhood talking to voters to learn more about where you are at with the upcoming presidential election. Have you decided who you are voting for yet?”
The blond girl grinned and let out an enthusiastic, “Obama baby!” as she reached her hand in the air and gave us each a high five. I suddenly had a feeling I was in for quite a surprising day…

We walked on to the next house. Just as we picked up our fists to knock, a young middle class white male opened the door. He jumped back a little, startled to see two young women standing on his porch on a Saturday morning. This time I began our spiel. He seemed less excited to see us than our previous encounter, but still he reluctantly agreed to speak with us for “just a minute.” Ten minutes later we were still talking. He told us he was a big Hillary fan, but he’s just not sure about Obama’s experience. “If Obama would have chosen Hillary as a running mate, It’d be a lock.” “I’m just so mad he didn’t choose Hillary.” “I’m a teamster,” he said as he pointed to his worn out teamster t-shirt emblem, “my union supports Obama… but I’m just not sure.”
We tried hard to reassure him that Obama is smart and that Hillary will definitely play a prominent role in his administration. We told him that Obama and Hillary are very much on the same side with their policies. The facts didn’t really seem to matter. He just “wasn’t sure.” I don’t want to speculate on what he wasn’t sure about, but I could tell that while what we said may not have mattered so much, the fact that we stood on his porch for 10 minutes and listened to him spout meant something. Though he did let us know when he was done with a kind and suggestive “I was actually on my way outside to find the sports page…”

From an enthusiastic supporter, to a hesitant voter who will likely come our way, to our next house—a 35 year old woman who was not registered and had never voted in her life. We’ll call her Sara. Sara was on her way to take the garbage out when she found us ringing her doorbell. She wasn’t the listed owner on our list from Obama, but we decided to chat with her anyway. We asked her if she was registered to vote. Slightly embarrassed she admitted that she wasn’t as she sat the garbage down by her side. Johanna pressed on. She told Sara that we could register her if she wanted. Sara reflected for a moment and said, “I think it is too late. I promised myself that I would pay attention this year and vote for the first time. But I haven’t been following it, and it is just too late.”

We reassured her that there was still over a month to research and learn about the candidates… That she could at least register and research and decide later about voting. At this she sat down on her stoop. We followed. She clearly wanted to be a part of this election. She admitted that she had watch Obama’s acceptance speech and was deeply moved by it but just didn’t feel empowered to vote. It became apparent why she was disempowered when her mother came to the porch. Her mom cracked the door open. We asked if she was registered to vote. The mother responded in a gruff tone, “NO, I don’t want to vote!” and slammed the door. A far cry from the parents I grew up with.

Sara recentered her attention on the two of us. She told us she really cared about the poor. As she began filling out the registration form she raised her head and meekly asked, “Which party is it that cares about the poor?” This was a woman who had never been encouraged to engage with our political system, and here we were giving her the first steps toward participating. She gave me her personal e-mail address and I agreed to send her links to sites with information about the presidents and the issues she cared about when I got home. Perhaps most telling was when I sat down to do that task. I put the links to both Obama’s and McCain’s websites in my e-mail to her. Then, I put the link to the part on Obama’s website where he addresses poverty and how he will fight it. I looked for a similar link on McCain’s site and found nothing.

Finally we knocked on the door of a more traditional West Side family with the American flag flying on their porch. The mother of the household answered the door. We explained our mission, and she hesitatingly agreed to chat briefly. This too became a much lengthier conversation. While her and her husband were on the books as independents, they had mostly voted republican as that is where their values were aligned. She told us quite frankly that she wished the whole thing could just start over.

“I really just don’t like any of my options. I don’t even want to vote. But I know I have to vote because it is my right as a citizen. If I don’t vote, then I can’t complain. But I don’t know what to do,” she said with an extremely troubled look on her face.

Johanna and I shared her concern as empathically as we were capable of, and then we brought up how strongly we feel about Barack Obama. Our words were echoed by the woman’s 5-year-old daughter lurking in the background who muttered, “B-aaa-rock OO-B-a-m-a.” The woman listened to us. She shared that she was scared about McCain’s age, that she had gotten excited about Palin at first, but now she keeps hearing how “she’s saying lies and stupid stuff.” She expressed her concern with the economy and simultaneous fear of socialized medicine and awareness that something must change in the health care system. I tried my best to explain that Obama’s health care plan was not the oh-so-sensationalized “socialized medicine” republicans discussed. She listened. At the end of our conversation she got serious and told us, “I will vote, but I don’t know for whom. And really the bottom line for me is this: whoever wins, its God’s will.” To this I responded, “Well I hope it is God’s will that Obama wins.” While her vote may ultimately go to McCain, I couldn’t help but feel that a woman like that would not have given us the time of day 4 years ago. Now, now she is listening. Something has changed.

After introducing my Chicago friends to Skyline Chili we set back out for an afternoon of canvassing. This time I was paired with a fellow Princeton Fellow, Sanhita. We were having some success and hopeful moments going door to door, but our most special interface came unsolicited. Two people were driving down the street on which we were canvassing. Just as we were approaching our next house we heard someone yell, “are you registering people to vote?” While registering voters wasn’t the main mission of the day, we certainly were open to it. So we replied, “of course!” The couple in the car proceeded to pull over and register. The gentleman eagerly announced, “I watched a special last night and realized that I needed to vote.” He didn’t only want to be registered to vote, but he also signed up to volunteer for the campaign.

The final story to relay is an important one. It was our last door. The lack of sleep from the night before was catching up with me and I was secretly hoping there would be no answer. But alas, a man came to the door. He explained that he wasn’t registered to vote because he had a previous felony and wasn’t allowed to vote, but he took information for his girlfriend. He was clearly bummed by his disenfranchisement, and desperately wanted to vote. Sanhita and I did not think his perception was accurate, but neither of us had a clear idea of the laws in OH. We gave him a registration form and told him to look into it more. He seemed very excited that there might be a possibility that he could vote. As we walked away from his house we couldn’t shake the feeling that this man should be voting. So we started calling people who may have the answer. Without finding a firm answer, we ultimately decided to go back to the man’s house, get his filled out registration form, and go for it. We told him, that if he gets a registration card in the mail, he could vote. Later that night I asked my dad to clarify. It turns out the as long as the individual is not in prison, s/he has the right to vote. So, this man who thought he would never be able to vote again in his life will be getting that card in the mail letting him know he can cast his vote for Obama. It is scary to think how many other previously convicted felons may have misinformation about their voting eligibility. In fact, notifying ex-prisoners of this information is a project that my dad’s prisoner rights nonprofit organization (Ohio Justice and Policy Center) has taken on.

I got home that night feeling extremely energized and hopeful about this campaign. Something unique is happening in this country. I was one of thousands of people out in neighborhoods talking about Obama. My brother had equally uplifting stories about his day in Virginia. I have friends in New Mexico, New York, and Colorado out talking to people. This is a movement. While I have never lived by this rule, societal etiquette would indicate that it is best not to talk politics with people, especially with strangers. But, this time around people want to talk and engage. While of course I want people to be gung ho for Obama, the many undecided individuals who are engaged with this election equally uplift me. I believe that Obama’s campaign is affecting the social fabric of our society. His campaign and presidency has the potential to combat the “Bowling Alone” syndrome that Robert Putnam writes about. I encourage everyone to go be part of this magic.

Can't Life Just be one Long Glorious Weekend?

I’m experiencing somewhat of a weekend to weekday culture shock today. I had one of those weekends that just gelled. On Friday night a lovely cooking journey into Southern Indian cuisine with a friend led to a spontaneous bike ride to the new Woody Allen movie with a not so inspiring title (VickiChristinaBarcelona), but a very alluring plot and cast. Saturday morning I slowly emerged from the womb of my bed, made a gourmet egg sandwich, and then went to Wicker Park (the park two blocks from my house) for some morning time reading. By noon I was stretching out my body and push the limits of my will power in my favorite yoga class at Cheetah Gym (though there are still many more to try). While I realize that being a liberal young adult living in a hip part of Chicago is pretty much synonymous with saying “I do yoga.” But as cliché as it is, I am so happy for the first time in my life to be consistently practicing yoga, not just saying how much I wish I could get into it. I feel my body thanking me. My knee rarely hurts during or after yoga and my mind is forced to stop creating, organizing, and completing to-do lists. I just have to stop, breath, and hope that I can make it through the hour in one piece. Luckily, I always do, and come out feeling stronger and healthier. I’ve only been able to skate once since being in Chicago, but it was an amazing experience. I felt more in shape on the ice after not skating for months due to the yoga and biking I’ve been doing. I hope to integrate skating back into my life in some capacity, but I am thankful that I have found some more convenient pastimes for my body to engage in.

Saturday afternoon found me eating good veggie eats at the Handlebar “biker” (cyclist) bar near my house with a good friend from college and strolling through Humboldt Park. Saturday evening commenced with roommate bonding where we all pitched in to cook a delicious meal followed by a fabulous gathering of some random friends my roommate and I have acquired. After a rather late night, Sunday became the day of grocery shopping, errands, and also a little more reading in Wicker Park. Spending time in Wicker Park is similar to spending time on a college “quad,” though the mix of people is a bit more diverse. The park is definitely a social center of the neighborhood. On any nice weather day people are guaranteed to be sunbathing, playing random lawn games, tossing a Frisbee, playing pick-up soccer or softball or basketball, picking fights, grilling out, sitting in a circle of friends surrounded by a circle of all their bikes… It’s a lovely place. The weather here is changing oh so slightly, giving a little nod to fall. I got to wear sweats and a sweatshirt in the park Sunday evening, and found myself getting a little chilly. Oh, how I love seasons!

So my action packed weekend gave way to Monday. Monday has been fine, but I seriously have felt myself somewhat disoriented by the transition of weekend to work week. I put in my first long day at the office—10 hours! I’m working extra so I can leave early on Friday to go canvas for Obama in Cincy this weekend. It was rewarding to get a lot of work done and feel my creative juices flowing as I get more responsibility, but I am a little too high from my weekend to get descriptive about quality assessment of health care. I do promise to muse on my work life in the near future, but for now, I am pretty pleased to just relax into the fall breeze that seems to be bringing a heartier social life my way.

Getting the Whole Picture

Sometimes I wish I could telepathically transmit my thoughts into words on a page. There is so much I want to write and share. I want to paint stories for you. I want to draw adventures. But, I am so tired. I get energized in my mind, but my fingers are fatigued. I’ll do my best to give a flavor of this past (glorious) week, but I fear my eyelids are sagging a bit too low for brilliance to come forth.

The Skinny: This past week was really wonderful. Work began to fully coalesce. I am starting to grasp what my role and purpose is and envision more autonomy as I move forward. My social life was rich with meeting new people, bringing together old friends, eating tasty Indian food on Devon Street, cooking tasty Mexican and Mediterranean food to share with my roomie (Nora), and taking in art and architecture with my parents who visited for the weekend. I am feeling so energized by this city. Mind you, I am saying that after living through the rainiest day in Chicago history. So yes. I am happy.

The Fat: I want to focus in on a conference that I got to attend for my job this week. I went downtown on Wednesday afternoon for the Consortium to Lower Obesity in Chicago Children (CLOCC) conference. The subject was school wellness. It was an amazing experience. I sat in a room that held people from every major stakeholder group that could care about childhood obesity. There were city officials, school officials, teachers, doctors, health care administrators, members from the Chicagoland Bicycle Federation, policy people, community organizers, etc. It was so inspiring to see an issue being faced with such a holistic approach. I felt the community spirit in the room. So often problems are faced unilaterally, and ultimately little is solved. It really seems the only way to affect such a pervasive issue (a crisis) as childhood obesity is to tackle it holistically. If schools integrate comprehensive wellness programs (which is nearly impossible with funding and time restrictions in public schools), it will mean nothing without communities also involved. If kids don’t have consistent care from a primary care physician, it is hard to monitor health in the clinical setting. One study showed that kids most trust their doctors on health information. If they don’t have a consistent doctor they are missing one of their most trusted advisors. But, if doctors, schools, and communities are all on board, it will often mean little without the faith leaders of the community also preaching that message. I have created a Venn diagram in my head to show what I envision is necessary for sustainable social change. I can't figure out how to paste my diagram into this blog... SO, imagine it with me. There are three inner overlapping circles, and then one grand circle around them all. The three inner circles are education, health, and faith. The outer circle is community.

It is both so overwhelming and so exciting to look at issues in very comprehensive ways. There is a way toward change, but it requires an extreme amount of cooperation and will from everyone. We need a shift of consciousness. We need Obama. I have so much more to write and reflect on, but that will have to be for next time.

#4

Hopefully the final entry solely focused on this transition period (but no promises)!

Work. Adjusting, adjusting, adjusting. They say that time is all you need. I believe them. I am feeling that time is on my side. While, I’ve certainly had some terrible restless nights searching for my city-life, working-world orientation, this weekend settled me. I am learning SO much. In fact, I think I’ve been so preoccupied pining for the return of my academic life that I have ignored or refused to cherish the learning that is taking place every moment of my life. I realize that statement contradicts my last blog… but contradiction is only a sign of learning. It seems in politics people are always criticizing the changing of the mind. But, isn’t that what life is all about? Constantly changing the mind. So, yea, my mind is swaying, and I’m seeing the value of the glorious and the mundane. I’m understanding that while I may not be infused with passion for my new life yet, I am learning so much from how to analyze why people aren’t getting their flu shots to whether I want to be in a desk job long term to the Chicago transit system to the best dive bars in Wicker Park. All very important lessons in their own right.

I spoke with a friend recently who is very involved in the Obama campaign. Her life is on fire. She breathes, laughs, cries Obama. She is so happy and purpose driven. After speaking with her, I was very disarmed by my own state of mind. I wasn’t crying out with joy for how much I love what I am doing. She told me to quit my job, move to where she is and join the movement. After all, this is a critical moment. I was tempted. I cried about it. I asked myself, “Am I missing out on being part of something that I will forever regret?” “Is it cowardly to pursue this life when I know there is this other more exciting and relevant one out there?”

Grappling with this temptation forced me to really define why I am here, and what the hell my purpose is. I think that is the most important thing that has come out of this weekend. For a while, I have felt like this world was just happening to me. My goal was just to stay afloat. That is no way to live. Now, I am above water. I have accepted that this is a different world that is exhausting and sometimes lonely, but there is really nowhere else I’d rather be. I need to be in Chicago figuring out what direction I want to go with my career path. I am passionate about finding my passions. And, I am passionate about Obama, thus I will serve his campaign from the place I am in. But, I would have to argue the cowardly thing for me to do right now would be to run off from this life that I have hardly given a chance yet.

And there is a lot of good in this life. My latest routine includes weekly yoga, and…. Belly dancing! My roommate is a belly dancer, and our gym just started a class. On Saturday I did an hour of yoga followed by an hour of hip popping, snake arm swaying, and Egyptian walking. The instructor kept insisting that belly dancing is one of the most natural dances that exists. As I stood before the mirror trying to keep my butt tucked in, chest open, and shoulders back, I was not convinced. But after an hour of strutting across the floor, shakin’ my thang I understood how great it is to be a woman. It’s these little realizations that make all the difference in the world. So, yea, I’m adjusting. Adjusting my attitude toward my new life. Adjusting my technique of making friends (I exchanged numbers with two women this weekend… making friends in the real world is more stressful than dating!). Adjusting the physical capacities of my body with downward dog, biking, and now a little Middle Eastern dancing. While, I sometimes wish to be on some grand adventure around the world, I am slowly realizing that this adventure I am on right here in Chicago has the potential to challenge and teach me as much or more than have my many travels.