Election Eve

Today was my first experience volunteering for a political campaign. I signed up to volunteer to “get out the vote” in Decatur today, not knowing if that meant I'd be going door-to-door, making cold calls or doing any number of other things that generally terrify my non-confrontational self. I got to the Campaign For Change office at noon, and it was pretty packed. I figured the day before the election, people would be winding down, not really thinking about volunteering, but there were at least fifty or so people milling around the tiny office and tables set up outside it. At that point, they needed people to either canvass door-to-door or sit and staple together door hangers. Despite being less frightened of staplers than of canvassing, I agreed to blockwalk and was given a partner and a packet of registered Democrat voters' addresses.

My parner (whose name, I think, was James? So much for making friends for life via political activism...) was a young-but-still-older-than-me Emory professor. (In fact, almost everyone at the office appeared to be at least 35. Just an interesting note.) So James and I drove a few miles to the Snapfinger voting precinct, parked on a shady street, and started knockin'.

All the areas we canvassed seemed to be relatively poor areas; I'm a white girl from the suburbs. I really, really don't want to sound (or be) prejudiced or to stereotype, but I have to admit that there was a little part of me that wondered if I might get shot today. Just days after reading about a trick-or-treater getting shot to death in South Carolina, I can't say it didn't enter my mind. Luckily nobody came to the door gun in hand; in fact, people seemed eager to open the door to us when they heard we were from the Obama campaign. Of course, we were only going to the homes of registered Democrats. It might have been different had we been canvassing earlier in the election, when the focus is less on simply getting out the vote and more on persuasion. Yikes. I was just pleased to not have to argue with any Republicans. I do have to note, however, on the subject of scariness, that the area we were in featured a disproportionate number of terrifying, snarling dogs. When those signs say "Beware Of Dog," they mean it. But I digress.

On the whole I don't know if I feel like we made much of a difference. This Slate article describes the hierarchy of efficiency when it comes to helping out a campaign, and knocking on doors is at the top of the list. Everyone we spoke to told us they were voting for Obama; everyone we spoke to (save one man who said he doesn't “believe in voting”) told us they had voted or were planning to tomorrow. Most knew where their polling place was. Maybe we informed one or two who didn't know or might have put off voting.

A big, beefy black guy around my age with a Guitar Hero controller around his neck came out of his house and hit on me while James was at another door. “You got a husband? You got a boyfriend? You got a phone number?” I said I had none of those, but that I liked his game (his video game, that is, not his pick-up game). “I like your face,” he responded. All in a day's work.

The day before an historic election, what can we really say that hasn't been said? Even the undecideds have decided by now. The issue is no longer who you're going to pick. Vote Obama, but really, just vote. It does make a difference. You will feel a little charge after you do, knowing that you exercised your suffrage that (unless you're a white male property-owner) was fought for, and hard. Don't tell me you don't have time. Make time. Bring a book, bring a snack, bring a pillow and some playing cards, but just go. I don't want to wake up on Wednesday and hear that the youth voter turnout was anything other than unprecedented. The Boomers think we're irresponsible layabouts; prove 'em wrong. And if you won't do it for all those reasons, then do it for the free doughnut, free coffee, free ice cream, free chicken tenders or even a free sex toy. Totally worth a few hours in line, if you ask me.