Walking the Walk, Then Walking Some More
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"I don't want change! We're Republicans! Go away! You go away now!"
-some woman yelling at us through her closed door.
This afternoon was spent walking and knocking. Ro and I joined a bunch of other newbie political operatives (aka local folks with clipboards) in an attempt to find people who favored our candidate and convince them that they really needed, for the love of God, to vote this time around because it may just make a difference.
We met a lot of great people. We met a few haters. We woke up one shift worker. Even though we were only three-quarters of a mile from the house we had lived in for six years, we saw people and places that we had never seen before.
For the first time since the early 1960's, The Commowealth of Virginia has a chance at going Democratic in the presidential elections. It's not a great chance, but you got to play the hand you're dealt. We met a lot of people who had all but given up on the process, and a few who had written-off life altogether. One woman told us she had no intention of voting, and neither did anyone else in her house because they didn't care and nothing we said could change her mind. You don't see that kind of strident apathy very often. Usually, they just nod politely.
Mostly though, we talked to people who were pleased that someone was taking the time to talk directly with them about something that is usually somewhat disconnected from their everyday lives. One guy said that his 57 year old housemate had never voted in any election, but he was so moved by Barack Obama's acceptance speech, he registered to vote the next day. He made us wait on the porch while he went to the other side of their shared house and dragged the man out to meet us. They felt like they were a part of something. We felt the same way. We shook hands, promised each other we would vote, and continued onward.
By late afternoon, the Virginia humidity was showing its influence and vigor. Drenched in sweat, and our water bottles were long-since empty. We had walked miles of city streets and talked to so many people. We were worn out. I can't wait to do it again.
Get Involved Now.
Dominant Transgender Commentators. For Obama
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2 comments:
Dear Ro,
Next time daddy drags you out to knock on doors, pass a note to some housewife that says, "HELP! Call my real mommy and daddy in Cleveland!"
I knocked on doors for Obama during the primaries (before his heinous FISA vote -- don't worry I'm voting for him). I met one old lady who invited me in. We walked past her barking dog, locked in a kennel, and sat down in her doilied living room. I asked if she was voting for Clinton or Obama and she said Obama because a woman couldn't handle the job. "She crack under the presha!" she said. I said, "Promise me you'll remember to vote?" "I promise you, sir," she said. I gave her a hug. I was partnered with a crewcut lesbian I didn't know, but I raced across the street to the house she'd just knocked. I couldn't wait to tell her.
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