Andrew Sullivan, in a recent The Times article, declared that “Most presidential elections … are about the last one.” Perhaps so. But elections, one would suspect, are also about personal narratives — of belief, of love, of longing for a better future — and this election is no exception.
These personal narratives are why people choose to commit to a campaign. It is when the hopes and fears of individuals, aligned to the vision and judgment of a candidate, move them to place their trust and faith in the candidate. Thus, they start contributing campaign funds and devote time and energy to volunteer and canvass and to spread the word. In this sense, they become the heart and soul of a candidate’s movement.
Among my involvement with the campaign occurred two weeks ago during the Sacramento rally for Senator Barack Obama. Arriving at the rally at 10 on a breezy Saturday morning, we listened to speakers who roused with enthusiasm and candor, passionate despite the biting iciness of winter.
Then, our spirits high, we gathered in groups, each assigned to a certain precinct. Handing us a detailed list of potential sway voters — compiled through a technology micro-identification process — our leader briefed us on the numerous etiquette and expectations, such as acting “courteous at all times.”
For many youths, a demographic group that has voted overwhelmingly for Obama, this election is our first traverse into national politics. But that morning, the rally wasn’t only about youths; it was a mixture of all age-groups: The young and the old, Latinos and Asians, whites and blacks. Among those in my group was Irene, a senior citizen who had travelled extensively around the world; Daniel, a UC Davis graduate student with noble aspirations to further his profession; Chrystal, an Asian-American UC Davis English major; and Alex, a junior transfer student concentrating in Biology. It was a diverse group, but we shared a common goal.
The first household we visited elicited no response. It was a pattern that was to repeat itself. Perhaps it was simply odd for one to greet campaign volunteers on a Saturday morning. More frequently, moreover, were the rhythmic dog howls that accompanied our ascent to a doorstep. We weren’t welcome.
The glitz and glamour associated with campaigning for a candidate often ignores the challenges of actual groundwork. For me, that day was merely a single-day event. For others — precinct captains, unpaid volunteers — it is a repetitive activity performed daily, sometimes in inclement weather stretching for months. Far from the uplifting, giddy, soaring, if abstract feeling those inspired by a candidate experiences, the actual process involves a grimmer, harsh and mundane reality. It is not only a task to persuade hearts and minds, but a battle to toil against freezing temperatures, ferocious winds and dreary conditions. At times, it feels almost like a crusade not only for one’s candidate but a battle against Nature itself.
But of those we convinced, the feeling was rewarding. One lady, introducing herself as a high school educator, was “60-40” for Obama, despite proclamations of surprise when she notes about her upbringing in Texas. She didn’t need to explain herself — she had experienced the best of both worlds, and her leaning for Obama was a story that spoke for itself. Ideology didn’t matter, she wanted change.
We left around 4pm to listen to Senator John Kerry speak. On the speech itself, Kerry proved himself more than an eloquent interlocutor. He regaled us with details about Obama’s candidacy and charmed us with personal anecdotes and, although occasionally lapsing to long-winded explanations, seemed the absolute antithesis of the person portrayed in the media.
To be sure, I don’t recall the exact details of his speech — the moment was somewhat fleeting and momentary, drowned in the rapturous chorus of support. But in the delirious decibels, I do remember the feeling it evoked. Because when I saw the “fired up” audience chanting “Yes, We Can” and “USA,” I knew I was witnessing an energy and spirit that was heartwarming. They were doing it for the love.
ZACH HAN’s professor likes to say that “Everyday is Valentine,” but he still you a Happy Valentine’s Day! from zklhan@ucdavis.edu.
