Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Miss Canvassing

I will miss canvassing now that Barack Obama has been elected the 44th president of the United States of America. I think that’s because knocking on doors in this part of northeast Pennsylvania and talking to the people who answered is a lot like what I used to do as a reporter in New York City and on Long Island. You learn a lot from asking questions, figuring out how to get information from people, some of them reluctant to give it. Asking somebody who they will be voting for is considered too personal for at times. That question is out of bounds; it’s like asking a woman’s age, or man’s choice of underwear.

Now, three days past what will go down in history as an election that transformed our politics, I and others have completed our last walk lists, put our campaign buttons on the dresser and turned from celebration to contemplation.

A Door In Pen Argyl

I’ve been thinking about our Obama victory here in Pennsylvania—and especially our winning in my part of northeast PA— and the spirit and the opportunity that the Slate Belt Team has been.s. An ideal world might possibly look like the one our team created together where everyone brought to the table the thing they do most naturally. The thing that is very much needed. We have been drivers and phoners, cooks and list-makers, letter writers and cleaners, team leaders and organizers, data coordinators and canvassers and record keepers and cheerleaders and sign-makers and thinkers and talkers. Most of all we have been the hope-mongers that Barack said we need to be if we were/are the antidote to the hate-mongers that have being doing their best to keep our country divided.

As for me, I have loved canvassing and learned so much from it. It has allowed me to see people in all of our diversity. And I hope it isn’t immodest to say that canvassing is an act of courage. Nothing could be scarier or more intimidating than chancing a face-to-face meeting with a stranger. Of course, none of the folks who answer our knocks are ever really strangers. There’s usually something about them that says something about us. Says something about our own fears, our courtesy, our evasiveness, our resentment, our gratitude, our good humor and our ill will. And the pre-conceived notions we have about each other before either one of us has even opened our mouths.

A couple of Sundays ago I knocked at the door of a house high on a hill off of Delabole Rd in Pen Argyl and the woman who answered—looking first through the screen door— said that the 34 yr old woman on my list was her ex-daughter-in-law who was very ill with MS and would not be voting. She said the other name was that of her husband and he was not at home. I thanked the woman for her time and asked if she would give one of our flyers and a tax comparison card to her husband. As I was walking away she called out “Thanks so much for what you’re doing.” That took me by surprise because she didn’t look like someone who would be supporting Obama. My car was parked at the top of a long driveway leading to the main road and the view of the hills and valley, the trees and the leaves all red and gold was breathtaking.

As I was about to drive off, a middle-aged man headed toward my car. He was dressed in work clothes and a baseball cap and as he got closer he removed one of his work gloves. He looked menacing, like he was about to order me off his property or worse. When he reached my car,I rolled down the window, stuck my hand out and introduced myself.

He didn’t take my hand. I thought I was in real trouble. Instead, this man began to tell me why he was for Barack!. “He’s the only possible choice any rational person could make” he said. “I heard someone say the other day that he’s the one, the one for this time” Again, I was taken by surprise. In a million years I would never have thought this man could be an Obama supporter. He was everything the pollsters and pundits said was anti-Barack: white, rural, angry, hardworking, blue collar, probably a gun-owner.

Turned out he was an ex-marine, born in Bethlehem, lived all his life in the area, was caring for his ex-daughter-in-law, “Who would have thought I’d end up being a nurse?” he said, more a statement than a question. “You can’t just put a person away in an institution, can you? Besides I don’t think she’s going to make it to Christmas.” And he thinks the property that he bought when a large farm was subdivided in the 1970’s is the most beautiful place in the world. “Look over there” he said pointing an ungloved finger toward the horizon, “Ät night you can see the lights from the trucks on rte 33.”

He said he would have voted for John McCain 4 yrs ago. But not now. “He’s changed. His time has passed. He’s not the same McCain. It’s Obama’s time now” he said as I just listened in amazement.

I was near tears by the time he finished talking and we shook hands,said goodbye and I drove off to the next house. And the next stranger.

I’m really going to miss canvassing. And I’m going to miss the Slate Belt team. But I’ll always be grateful to Barack for bringing us together in this extraordinary year.

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