Yes We Can

I early-voted a week and a half ago, getting there right before the polling place closed and therefore needing only to wait an hour, which was certainly not the case for most of Miami-Dade County; my sister works at a library next to a polling place and she said for the past week the librarians are getting no work done because they’re tending to the needs of the hundreds of people waiting hours to vote in the broiling sun and the pouring down rain. I did a little phone banking again yesterday, which always makes me feel uncomfortable because I certainly don’t like getting phone spam at home, and tomorrow I’m going to be driving voters to the polls (What polls? Where? I’ll find out tomorrow. Maybe). I’m trying to help, trying to make a difference. I’m so glad it’s almost over because the waiting to know who’s going to win, what’s going to happen, is just freaking me out.

I’ve still felt a little separate and disaffected, during this whole election thing, most of which I’ve actually missed out on because I couldn’t vote in the primaries and also because I haven’t been exposed to the relentless advertising very much. I read liveblogging and my Facebook friends’ status updates about the debates but didn’t watch them live; I’m not on any call lists because my cell is still a Seattle number so I haven’t been doing anything poll-related. I have become more interested in Obama as I’ve learned more about him and his campaign and I have to say–I’m not made of stone here–I’ve been quite inspired by some of the ideology behind his rhetoric of hope and change, even though I still have quite a few questions and concerns about how it’s all going to be managed practically speaking. Mostly I’m just tired of worrying, tired of being told I’m not a real American and that my concerns are meaningless, in so many different ways–I told D. today “You have NO IDEA what it’s been like for us this last eight years, amore—those of us who didn’t vote for Bush and oppose the conservative agenda—I mean, we are EXHAUSTED.” (He then mentioned that, hello, Berlusconi’s been running Italy for like fourteen years and then I was all, Fine, okay, fine, you win.)

I’ve volunteered because I’ve felt a moral obligation to participate in some way—this is my democracy we’re talking about here– but I haven’t enjoyed it the way I’d hoped I would. The parts of the campaign that I’ve been exposed to have felt overwhelmed and disorganized; I’d looked forward to meeting some new people and feeling a little more fired up, as the saying has been going, but mostly I’ve been a bit frustrated by my experiences with the local campaign. And I’ve been anxious, like everyone else, maybe needlessly so: today when I was walking over to the drugstore I began to seriously ask myself, well, which would I want more: to go back to New Zealand or for Obama to win tomorrow night? If the two were mutually exclusive? Like if there was a gun to my head and I had to choose between a Democratic presidency for four to eight years and Wellington for two to five years. I mean, isn’t it more important that the country get back on the right track than for me to get to live where I want to live and do what I want to do? But then also: Hey! What about me? And so on and so forth, actually getting upset about this as if that were actually the choice, as if it were all up to me and I were, all of a sudden, the decider. If it came down to that. I never did decide; I had to come home and have a cool drink and lay down for a while because I couldn’t even comprehend how I’d begin to answer that question, I couldn’t even start to think about how my personal and political life (which are, of course, the same life) would separate out, how I would choose. I just crossed all my fingers and all my toes extra hard for all the things I want to happen in my life, but even as I was doing so I still kept thinking in a small mean whispery voice: What makes you think you can have everything?

But actually, that voice needs to shut up. Shut UP, mean whispery voice, you are totally not helping. In the meantime, I’m still waiting, still wondering, still hoping (but not too much). Still going to donate at least a tank of gas to Obama tomorrow, as I’m sure the campaign will have me, as Manya said this afternoon, driving to Westchester and then to Kendall and then to Key West. (This is the same Manya, who, when I called her to invite myself over tomorrow night because “I just can’t be alone and I’m going completely insane,” responded very sweetly with “You know I love having insane people at my house so come over whenever.”) Still going to believe, at least a little tiny bit, that my personal and political goals are the same goals, and that somehow everything will work out even if I’m not sure of the details, even if I have questions and concerns and doubts: yes it will, yes we can.