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.