Yesterday, for the first time in my life, I went canvassing. Tired of whining on Facebook and feeling angry and powerless, I decided to put my pent-up energy to good use. Inspired by a friend in New York who marched himself to a volunteer center and made calls, I decided to do the same. Originally, I had wanted to phone bank and call the swing states. Since Washington was a likely Democratic lock for Hillary, I thought Ohio, Nevada, and Florida could use a little love.
But I was surprised when I was told by the people running the Seattle office that they needed people to canvass in Washington. Sunday was a huge night, and we needed to be out there to get the down ticket races flipped to Democrat. Tina Podlodowski, running for Secretary of State in particular, was a crucial office that could flip from Republican to Democrat.
I sat with a group of volunteer virgins as it was explained that we’d be knocking on doors, not just to get out the vote, but to tally some data—trying to ascertain if people had already voted, intended to vote, if they were straight ticket Dem, leaning Dem, or something else. This being Seattle, we were sent to likely Democratic households—people who’d voted in the past but weren’t consistent about it). We also marked if they’d moved or if they weren’t home.
I paired off with another first-time volunteer, Greg, a guy with a cheerful disposition, long hair to his chin, who wore a blue dress shirt and slacks. He had an open face and reminded me of a Mormon missionary—which, I thought worked in our favor. We followed the list of addresses on an app—Minivan—and trudged down 23rd and 24th Avenues, knocking hesitantly. Though I’m a journalist, I hate cold calling people, or going up to people who don’t already know we’re meeting. It fills me with anxiety. Many of the doors were dark, and no one answered. But those who were home, opened their doors tentatively, holding back their dogs, or trying to keep the cat inside, and eyed us warily.
Once Greg delivered our opening line—we were there for the Democrats—they mostly relaxed. We weren’t selling them anything. They told us they had voted for the whole ticket. Or they told us they were planning to. One guy, peeking through this window said he “voted for all of them—even though they are terrible.” We knocked on another door and a young man answered; out of our vision but within earshot, his mother yelled out that the whole house had voted for Hillary. “I’d come talk to you myself,” she said. “But I’m sick.”
A few people thanked us. One guy was so grateful we were volunteering, he invited us in for cheese and crackers. “I’ve just put a whole spread.” (Nick on 23rd Avenue, raincheck?)
We met one person who said he voted for Gary Johnson, and was a little apologetic. He explained he did it because Hillary was a lock in Washington and that he wanted to get the independent party to five percent. He’d voted for Dems for the rest of the ticket.
There was one undecided voter. He said he didn’t know either way and he hadn’t done his homework. (This, I couldn’t believe, but I humored him). So I gave him my elevator pitch about the Supreme Court. If he believed that gay marriage should be legal, and that women should have a right to choose, then he should vote for Hillary. Trump would certainly put in justices that would roll back those protections. He seemed to consider it, and we bid him adieu. I had hope because his roommate said she’d voted Democrat.
We only met one person who was a little reserved; they’d “voted for everyone” but wouldn’t say who (it was none of our beeswax, which is fine). Their voter background said they’d caucused for Bernie Sanders. But most people were happy we were doing something, anything
It turned out that most of the people we’d met didn’t really need our encouragement; they’d already voted or were planning to. But maybe the undecided voter on 23rd Avenue will change his mind and send in a ballot tomorrow to help overturn the Senate and the House and elect the first female President.
So don’t forget to vote. Use our endorsements. You have one day left.