by Karen Telleen-Lawton, Noozhawk Columnist
November 25, 2024 | 3:00 pm
Read the original in Noozhawk.
Youngstown, Ohio, was our first foray into election canvassing. Seeking to support environmental causes in the 2012 presidential election, our son took a leave to open an office in a swing state.
We volunteered for him, sorting campaign literature and canvassing neighborhoods to encourage voters.
Three presidential campaigns later, I embrace pride in the issues and candidates we’ve supported. I also feel discouragement at a process that is resource-wasteful and likely a low correlation with our efforts.
In 2016 we joined Santa Barbarans and others canvassing another swing state, Nevada. Good friends hitched a ride on our road trip to Las Vegas. They might have chosen differently if they’d known I’d be practicing my saxophone in the car.
We knocked on many dozens of doors, equipped with information about issues and candidates. When no one answered, we hung campaign literature on the front door.
Canvassers circled everywhere. The last few days it seemed we were only adding to a growing pile of trash.
Four years later we turned to poll observing in Maricopa County, Arizona. Dave and an opposite-party observer worked under the control of the poll inspector, watching voters collect, vote, and deposit their ballots.
When an issue arose, Dave would text to me outside, where I was strategically stationed 75 feet from the poll. When they emerge I’d inquire whether they’d had problems voting.
Some had to return home for a different form of identification; others were in the wrong polling place, or hadn’t registered in time.
Election Day at our poll in Maricopa County worked very smoothly. The inspector worked diligently to ensure every eligible voter could vote at least provisionally. We were surprised to hear later that it was the center of controversy.
This year we returned to Arizona: canvassing, poll observing, and vote curing in Tucson.
Canvassing was more satisfying than before – we didn’t seem to be following where others had trod.
We found friendly folk in each neighborhood we walked. One man kindly helped us understand the apartment numbering system before pointing at our Harris T-shirts and saying, “I’ve voted, but not the same as you guys!”
We engaged warmly as he talked about his son’s service in Iraq, but moved on quickly when he segued to a bawdy political joke.
A Guatemalan immigrant met us at the door with his darling three-year-old daughter. He was very personable and open to discussing issues, particularly democracy. Having left problems in his own country, however, he said he wanted a strongman to take control in the U.S.
At one house we passed an open garage sporting a bizarre jerry-rigged dune buggy. The man who answered the door was a barrel-chested white dude: I stereotyped him as a Trump supporter.
When we asked if he minded sharing who he was supporting, he guffawed. “My wife’s a gynecologist! Who do you think we support?” He opened his jacket to reveal a Harris T-shirt.
Election Day ran smoothly despite a typical wait time at our poll of an hour. We pointed mail-in voters to the skip-the-line ballot drop-off and helped voters and families locate donated snacks.
Everyone who was in line at 7 p.m. was able to vote; the process took nearly an additional hour. A dozen or so late arrivals were turned away.
Afterwards, we returned to our hotel to join our fellow workers in what we hoped would be a celebratory evening.
The Monday morning quarterbacking will surely last more than the next four years.
I empathize with those whose pure motivation in voting for Trump might have been that the price of groceries has increased. It is a misplaced reaction, in my book, but I understand that it is real for them.
As New Yorker editor David Remnick wrote, “[Trump’s victory] must be reckoned with and understood, with both rigor and humility.”
I can’t say I’m not frightened, stressed, and worried, particularly for overarching issues: our democracy, our earth. But I choose to keep my optimism and am open to pleasant surprises.
Notes afterwards from our voter protection team leaders Ed and Dorothy were comforting. Ed gratefully recalled the sacrifices each of us made.
“The diligence you brought to each encounter; the humanity you displayed toward each other and toward those you were out there to meet and help; the fun, the joy, the shoulders we’ve leaned on, stood on, dropped our weary foreheads on … the gift of having been on this particular journey together.”
Now is the time between elections, when the work of democracy really happens. We must listen to one another. We need to “wag more, bark less.”
Karen Telleen-Lawton is an eco-writer, sharing information and insights about economics and ecology, finances and the environment. Having recently retired from financial planning and advising, she spends more time exploring the outdoors — and reading and writing about it. The opinions expressed are her own.