post hiatus

First and foremost, here is an apology to any who might have checked this blog over the past three months, only to find no new updates. Not even a single sentence. As I returned to Georgia (and later North Carolina) I thought I would have time to briefly share my experiences. ‘Notes from the Campaign Trail’ or something to that effect. It quickly became apparent, however, that my life was no longer my own. I often worked 17 to 18 hour days. How difficult was it to spare ten minutes and write a short blurb? Trust me when I say that it was, well, nigh impossible. When I did have ten minutes I chose to instead walk down the Raleigh streets to the corner coffee shop and get my caffeine fix. Blame my coffee addiction.

So obviously I have returned from my campaign adventures. As I cast my memory over the past five months I find it difficult to summarize my experiences. Friends, professors and family have asked me what it was like to work on a political campaign. To them I offer, “It was amazing. Exhausting, intense, challenging. The toughest five months of my life. Exhilarating. Rewarding.” Yet none of these words capture what it was like to endure this campaign. I’ve set out to write a series of nonfiction essays about my experiences and the people I met along the way. Maybe in doing so I’ll be able to better share the flavors and textures, the vignettes and anecdotes, the trials and victories. For now let me say that I never expected to be as intensely consumed by something as I was with the campaign. A fellow field organizer, Tawny, made a comment back in July that has stuck with me: “You kinda have to sell your soul for awhile.” Yeah right, I thought at the time. Like I would ever reach that stage.

Well, I did. I have no regrets and am currently processing all that took place over the course of summer and fall. I recognize that I’m a stronger, bolder person, an accomplished leader. Yet I’ve also learned my weaknesses in leadership and the pitfalls of all-consuming dedication. While I proved to myself that I could stretch my limits, I also discovered where limits were nonnegotiable. More than anything, it feels good to know that I made a concrete difference. North Carolina won by a little over 13,000 votes. It was close; every vote counted. And to have been a part of that– flipping the state, empowering individuals, helping to elect our next president– is truly amazing. Take that, nihilism. People can make a difference with their efforts and lives. The human spirit is resilient and wants to believe in hope.

The night of November 4 was a triumphant one, and a night I’ll never forget. But it is also necessary for this country to realize that ‘change’ will not come quickly or easily. As President-Elect Barack Obama said the day following Election Day, “Now the real work begins.” When you are as deep as this country is right now, a lot of hard work is required to progress in a different, better direction. I have faith that we will get there, but it will be an arduous journey.

For now, I’m resting. Processing. I plan to catch up on reading. Now that I have time to write again, I’ll post periodic entries about my readings, reflections and future travels. Keep checking in every so often if you so choose. I promise I won’t have another hiatus for a long while. I’ll even brew my own coffee. Because, well, those ten-minute coffee excursions add up.

 

my superhero alter ego

Heroes. No, not the t.v. show. I’m talking about the individuals we admire and aspire to emulate. I have a pocketful of heroes: Edward R. Murrow, FDR, Queen Rania Al Abdullah, my Dad. Another of my heroes is Senator Obama, and I had the opportunity to see him last Tuesday at a town hall meeting in Powder Springs, GA. Because I helped staff the event, I was in the back with the traveling press, peering over cameras and laptops to catch a glimpse of the man himself. I had seen him before with four of my close friends at a rally in Portland’s Memorial Coliseum- one of the greatest moments of my college years. The town hall meeting was different. A good different. Rather than rousing speeches and screaming crowds, the Senator interacted with the attendees and invited questions. I cannot think of a more nerve-racking prospect than opening the floor to any question, particularly when many of the guests were undecided voters. But Senator Obama addressed the people’s questions and concerns with grace, candor, and even humor. On every issue, he outlined his policies but then ended with a charge to the people. He challenged everyone gathered in that high school gymnasium to take ownership of the issues. To not just ask for change, but be a part of that change. On the issue of education, yes we need better programs for our schools and accountability of teachers. But, he reminded the audience, parents need to take responsibility as well. Don’t pass off all responsibility to the teachers and then complain when your child struggles or fails. He was adamant in saying that parents need to be involved with their child’s education, to take an active role. He stressed the importance of bilingualism in this country, joking that the only foreign language Americans know is the phrase “merci beaucoup.” And on the issue of student dropout rates, he said that while schools should do more to prevent dropouts, students need to take ownership of their education and stay in school. Many teenagers need a wake-up call. “You think you’re LeBron James? You’re not,” he said to cheers and laughter. I loved his honesty. It was refreshing. The hall meeting reminded me why I support this man, and why I believe he should be the next President of the United States.

There seems to be a lot of emphasis on heroes in recent pop culture – or superheroes at least. Think of all the graphic novels and comic books adapted into movies: Batman, Spiderman, X-Men, Iron Man, Fantastic Four, Incredible Hulk…whoever tapped into that market must be a millionaire by now. The notion of superheroes is tremendously appealing to people, and I suppose I can understand why. The underlying theme is that anyone – even the most ordinary-looking individual – can become a hero. Peter Parker was a nerdy photographer before becoming Spiderman. And the whole premise of Heroes is about a group of ordinary people who discover they hold extraordinary powers. Overly idealistic and a little silly, the idea of everyone having “superhero potential” is still charming. Yesterday I realized there might be a smidgen of truth to the ordinary/extraordinary superhero theme. Yesterday, I discovered my superhero alter ego.

I was sitting at a picnic table beside the Mountain Park skate park. Teenagers filtered through the park, and a certain pack decided to camp out two tables over. They saw my “Register to Vote Here” poster, decorated with red and blue markers (my artwork at its finest), and yelled questions my way every now and then.

“Hey, are you here all the time?”

“Are you, like, a volunteer?”

“Are you seriously registering people to vote?”

Yeah, dude, I seriously am.

“Cool.”

I struck a rapport with this ragtag collection of skaters, and three of them registered to vote. Three registrations is hardly an extraordinary number, but for those three teenagers, it was. Hours later, as I gathered my things to leave, one of the boys shouted, “See you later, voter girl.”

Voter Girl. It’s a far cry from Spiderman. Or a certain Senator from Illinois. But I’ll take it. (What’s more, I kinda like it.)

 

Thanks for being an American

The Fourth of July has always been one of my favorite holidays, right up there next to Christmas. I’m not exactly sure why. Perhaps it’s the memories I had growing up: picnics and Frisbees, hot sun and iced tea, barbeques and sparklers. My mom used to make “Red, White and Blue” cake, consisting of angel food cake, raspberries, blueberries and whipped cream. Most years I would sit on my roof and watch the neighborhood fireworks, and if I felt particularly patriotic, I would venture downtown and participate in the massive celebration at Ft. Vancouver, where the six degrees of separation drops to three.

This year might have ruined July 4th for me. That is a drastic statement, but I feel as though I have seen another side of the holiday- one that angers and grieves me. I was out registering voters this past Friday. My team and our volunteers spread out between three different events. Parades, festivals, concerts…you’d think the day would be pure gold for registering people to vote. Not so. I ran into countless people who were eligible to vote, but were not registered, nor did they want to be. I’ve heard the same negative response before, but it stood out more than usual on July 4. I was startled at the juxtaposition of patriotic-colored clothing and the complete lack of desire to take an active part in this country. The country everyone was celebrating on Friday, on our Independence Day. I thought of Thomas Jefferson’s words as I walked from one family picnic to another, “My God! How little do my countrymen know what precious blessings they are in possession of, and which no other people on earth enjoy!” I don’t understand how someone can attend a Fourth of July celebration, take part in the festivities, and yet refuse to be a voice in their communities and country. Thanks for being an American.

As evening fell, thousands of people lined the streets, camping out on blankets and sipping lemonade. Children twirled around with sparklers. People were happy, relaxed. Yes, July 4 is a time for celebration. But it is also a day to remember why we are celebrating. We don’t have an LRA rampaging through our towns, nor do we live in constant fear of bombs dropping from the sky or blowing up our local marketplaces. We have freedom of the press (unlike Russia where at least two journalists were recently killed by snipers). Even with the difficult economic times we’re experiencing right now, we still have freedoms that certain parts of the world can only dream about. Too many people take our rights and liberty for granted. And what’s worse, many complain about everything that is wrong with this country without 1) pausing to see the good or potential good or 2) getting involved with the political process and their local communities. Don’t complain if you don’t vote.

Thomas Paine said it best when he declared that those who expect to reap the blessings of freedom must undergo the fatigue of supporting it. The most discouraging aspect of July 4th was that I saw a whole lot of reaping with little concern of supporting and maintaining that freedom.