I hesitate to call the
swing state phenomenon a movement; it's far too decentralized.
If anything, it's an anti-movement. Wherever I've
been this past year, campaigning for John Edwards,
marching in Washington for reproductive choice, what
unifies the crowd is removing the Bush-Cheney administration
from office.
But the energy is genuinely grassroots, and this
clean-cut crowd is not the radical fringe. Millions
of Americans have reached the conclusion that this
is the most important election of our lives. And because
of the electoral college, we're determined to do more
than just sit back and hope for the best. There's
too much at stake.
Lance has been writing letters to single women in
Pennsylvania and jokes that Kerry's lead has increased
as a result of his letters. He's going to NYC to observe
the protests at the Republican convention. Agnes is
a permanent resident, not even a citizen yet herself,
but she's out in the high desert, going door to door
registering voters. Jeanne, a sunny paid staffer for
ACT, says this is the best job she's ever had: "When
I was an accountant, no one ever thanked me."
James Katz runs the Reno ACT office. A former staffer
for the Edwards campaign, he bounds up on the picnic
table barefoot to give the training. "James is
going places," one volunteer confides, "plus
he's got a cute dad."
After a breakfast of Krispy Kreme donuts, it's time
to hit the streets. The Democracy
for Nevada group heads off to march in the gay
pride parade. Later, they'll register voters door
to door at residential hotel rooms.
Everyone warns us Washoe County isn't easy territory,
and as we climb the hills in a new housing tract,
with its huge houses, no one's even home on a Saturday
afternoon. The streets aren't quite like it looks
in the map. I feel like we're out selling magazine
subscriptions, or Jehovah's Witnesses. I don't even
mind when the people who answer the door turn out
to be Republicans.
But we make a few connections, play with a few dogs,
beckon a few hesitant Kerry voters from behind their
screen doors. We check out the bumper stickers on
the oversized trucks before ringing the bell; I hesitate
to approach an older couple about to drive away in
"We Support our Troops." Unfortunately "Peace
is Patriotic" doesn't answer the door so I leave
a flyer on Bush's disastrous policies.
I don't actually register anyone, although I do knock
on a lot of doors. Cute welcome mats. Bicycles with
training wheels. My canvassing partner and I notice
a house with a Kerry sign and a bevy of baby quails
making a beeline for it. Many of the democrats on
our list are young, 25, someone's son or daughter.
Many are registered as nonpartisan.
I ask one burly man, motorcycles filling the garage,
what his priorities are for the upcoming election:
"Throw the bum out!" he says.
"We're here for America Coming Together,"
Terese tells a large man with tattoos and towheaded
son.
"I know who you are," he roars, like he's
Sherlock Holmes. "You're Democrats! Tree huggers!
We're Republicans!"
One woman with black eyeliner tells me she's voting
for Bush because, "bottom line, he's a man of
God. Besides," she adds "Kerry is a dork!"
I can't argue with this.
At the end of the day, I'm feeling a bit discouraged.
Someone announces the League
of Pissed Off Voters' bus has given up the ghost.
It's a pitiable sight, the party bus with the red
curtains. It looks like it was used for stunts in
"Speed." All the Pissed Off Voters are found
rides back to Berkeley.
We head to Nu Yalk Pizza, the rare Reno business
with a Kerry Edwards sign out front. We compare notes
on how the day went. Ben confesses he registered a
Republican. Fred asks the pizza maker if he's registered
to vote, and the guy says he's an ex-felon. We get
James to ask about reinstating his rights; pepperonis
for Kerry.
Our hosts in Reno teach music.
They opened their home to six of us; their young daughter
let Sophia and me sleep in her bunk bed, among the
dolls and glow-in-the-dark stars. They fed us pancakes
and watermelon and talked about the election until
well past midnight. After fearing we would be perceived
as carpetbaggers rather than concerned neighbors,
I cannot imagine being more at home.
But as generous as Kris and Larry were to us, I honestly
feel like we did something for them too. If I've learned
anything from swing state summer, it's that we've
abandoned minority parties for too long. There are
heroic Democrats in Texas (the Killer Ds, hiding out
in Oklahoma to forestall Tom Delay's gerrymandering
with congressional districts!) and Alaska and North
Carolina. Progressive voters in Northern Nevada may
feel besieged, but we want them to know they're not
alone.
Visibility matters. A presidential campaign lifts
all votes. In North Carolina, we're not just working
toward a Kerry-Edwards victory; we're working on electing
Erskine Bowles to the Senate. There's more than the
White House at stake in Nevada and Colorado and Tennessee.
Democrats can't win back the Senate or the House if
we simply abandon the south.
On Sunday morning, ten of us return for a morning
of canvassing. Jeremy's still ahead after two nights
at the crap tables. He has even better luck registering
voters. I stay in the office with Pat and help sort
through the results of yesterday's work.
The ACT office is an explosion of clipboards and
door hangers and Palm Pilots charging in their cradles.
ACT is using Palms equipped with VAN software to enter
survey data. The rest is entered painstakingly by
hand and bar code. The Board to Victory hangs on the
wall.
We head home
filled with ideas. We talk politics all the way to
San Francisco. Driving to Reno we discussed who we'd
appoint to cabinet positions in the Kerry administration
(Al Gore to restore the EPA; Bill Clinton back to
the Middle East for one last go at the Israelis and
Palestinians). Driving west, Ben wants to start a
progressive TV network. We plan future trips to Nevada
and Florida.
Did we accomplish much? We knocked on at least 4000
doors. We fanned out across Reno to energize the progressive
base. Based on recent polls, Nevada is a dead heat.
As James says, close elections are won on the ground.
Wherever you live, there's a campaign that needs
your help, your energy, your enthusiasm. If it's not
in your state, it's not too late for a swing state
vacation. This is no year for an armchair election.
What are you waiting for? Hit the road!
Resources:
The next nationwide ACT day is September 18. Most
states require voters to be registered 3-6 weeks ahead
of the November 2 election.
James Katz says even if you're just passing through,
stop in at the Reno
ACT office; they'll find a way to put you to use
for a few hours or a few days.
In the San Francisco Bay Area, the Kerry Swing State
initiative is partnering with the Kerry campaign,
responding to requests for help with phone banking
and letter writing to Ohio, Michigan, Arizona, and
Nevada.
Driving Votes and the League of Pissed Off Voters
will help you connect.
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