A canvassing experience from start to finish

This is what I was thinking: 
I don’t have time, I don’t like knocking on doors, I already volunteered, my son volunteered, my daughter volunteered, I have to pack for my big trip, I have work to do, I am being guilted into this, I have done enough!

This is what happened: 
I whined and complained to all who would listen about volunteer abuse. And then:
I committed to one canvassing shift anyway because I was guilted into it and because I actually want Ed Markey to win the election.
I did most of my packing for my trip uncharacteristically a day early and stayed up too late doing it. I fueled myself the next morning with self righteousness and a large iced tea from Dunkin and checked in at the Markey campaign office. I studied my turf map and reviewed Markey’s stand on the issues and walked a block in the wrong direction before GoogleMaps set me straight. 
I knocked on doors.
 
This is what happened next:
No one answered. No one was home. It was a beautiful day; they were all probably out on walks enjoying the sunshine. I was relieved. It was a beautiful day; I was out walking, enjoying the sunshine. I hung campaign information on door handles reminding people to vote in the special election on June 25th.
I kept thinking about numbers. It is all about numbers. Each vote really does count. 109,000 Democratic voters stayed home during the special election for Senator Kennedy’s seat and the Republican candidate won by 107,000 votes. Every person needs to vote to make their voice heard. I cannot tell you who is the right candidate for you, but I can tell you with complete certainty that the only way for your choice of candidate to have a chance of winning is for you to vote. 

And then, this is what happened after that (it was a long morning):
Someone answered the door and smiled, and I got to check off the first “strong Markey supporter” box on my tally sheet. Once I stumbled through my first lines it wasn’t even awkward. I remembered my son, who is working on the campaign, telling me, “When I started canvassing I tried to imagine how you would do it, Mom, because you can talk to anyone” and I tried to live up to his compliment.
 
And so it went: knocking on doors, up and down steps (though I passed on the crumbling stoop with the yellow caution tape), opening gates, searching for doorbells. Talking to people in yards, through screens, in doorways. I talked to the weary woman caring for her elderly mother, and left a note for the veteran in his 70’s. I spoke with the grandmother of the runny-nosed toddler, and the ponytailed young woman recently separated from her husband. I listened to the disabled man in his wheelchair who had just received an eviction notice and the middle aged woman who was going to try to get her husband to vote this time around.
 
This is what I saw: 
I saw people of all colors and ages living their lives on that pretty June morning. All sorts of people, all of whom have the right to vote. 
I saw that the policies made in Washington affect every person behind every door and it is up to each person to decide who represents their interests best.
I saw why it matters that we participate in the process, no matter which candidate we support.
And I saw how lucky we are to be in a country where we have a choice as to who will represent us in DC, and how important it is that we not waste our good fortune. 

This is what I learned:
I learned that despite what we learned as children, sometimes it’s ok to talk to strangers. 
I learned that despite the very real menace of volunteer overuse and abuse, there is something very satisfying about being part of the democratic process at the grass roots level.
And on a more practical note – future canvassers, listen up! – self righteousness is fine, but I learned that it is never a good idea to fuel up on a large Dunkin Iced tea when embarking on a 3 hour canvassing shift.
All things considered, not a bad way to spend a Saturday morning after all.