Phone Bank

A couple of weeks ago, around the debates, I was feeling pretty politically crazy. The past week or so Iā€™ve been slowly coming back down to something approximating earth. Iā€™m still obsessively reading the liberal political blogs and wringing my hands on a regular schedule, and reading news and writing letters and making donations and trying to get more informed about my local issues (Monorail! Slot machines!), but Iā€™ve lost that edge I had a couple of weeks ago. I donā€™t understand how the polls work or what they mean. Iā€™m afraid to continue being so emotional about every little news item that comes out because Iā€™m getting tired. I wouldnā€™t say Iā€™m apathetic yet but Iā€™ve lost a little of the finely honed edge, where I was screaming to my upstairs co-workers about partisanship and voter suppression and push polls and WEā€™RE ALL GOING TO DIE. And get out the vote!

So I thought it might be worthwhile to find a volunteer opportunity with the Democrats or something, in terms of getting out of my head a little and making some sort of minimal contribution. I checked out the Kerry site and signed up to volunteer and noticed that there was some phone banking going on right in my neighborhood, right on my busline. Okay, no excuse. I didnā€™t feel super comfortable going door-to-door but I figured if my mom, she who is so private that she has erected a ten foot jungle around her little pink and green house so no one can get at her, can work the phones, then certainly I, her extrovert daughter, can do so as well.

On the bus from work, I heard a couple of kids talking about how great it would be to be eighteen.

Kid 1: Aw, man, I canā€™t wait until you turn eighteen so you can buy my smokes for me.

Kid 2: User!

Chiara: [Rolls eyes. Kids today.]

Kid 1: Thatā€™s right! Use to get me my smokes! And Iā€™m going to make you vote for me, too. Iā€™m going to tell you how to vote and youā€™re going to vote for me.

Kid 2: Nah, I wouldnā€™t vote.

Chiara: [Pricks up ears, takes deep cleansing breath]

Kid 2: Itā€™s like, so many people hate Bush, but whatever, heā€™s trying. And I donā€™t like the other guy, either. I mean, I donā€™t like Bush but I donā€™t hate him so I wouldnā€™t vote and it doesnā€™t matter, you know.

Chiara: [Deeeeeeep cleansing breath, fights urge to give youngsters a firm scolding about civic responsibility.]

Kid 1 But youā€™re going to care when you get older. When you have money. Youā€™ll vote for whoeverā€™s going to let you keep your money.

Chiara: [Reflects that that is sort of how it works, isnā€™t it]

Kid 2: Whatevs.

Chiara: GAH!

The phone banking place was in a non-profit organization office, with union posters on the wall and sort of dingy carpet. There were about five other people there, all around my momā€™s age. One guy looked disturbingly like the dad on Family Tiesā€¦not that the dad on Family Ties was disturbing, just that this random Democrat volunteer looked a lot like him, which was weird. Although if I recall correctly the dad from Family Ties was a staunch democrat, in juxtaposition with his son and my crush Alex P. Keaton. So maybe it did make sense. Anyway, we got some lists of names to call (registered Democrats who were absentee voters and hadnā€™t sent in their ballots yet) and a phone script and we went to town.

Now, I have a lot of experience talking to people on the phone. I have spent several years of my professional life calling people up and asking them to be in studies and then calling them up and asking them very personal questions about their lives. I feel I leave a very good phone message. Mine went something like this:

ā€œHi, this message is for Beyonce Knowles. Iā€™m calling for the Washington State Democrats, encouraging you to send in your absentee ballot postmarked before November 2, if you havenā€™t already. The front of the envelope needs to be signed for your vote to count, too. If you have any questions, please call us at one-eight-hundred-something-something. That number again is one-eight-hundred-something-something. This phone call was paid for by the Washington State Democrats, [we had to say that] and thanks for voting!ā€

Less than a minute, probably, start to finish. I was getting a lot of wrong numbers and busy signals (which I later learned I ought to have gone back and called again, oops) and was just sailing through my list. On the rare occasion I did talk to a real person Iā€™d say something almost exactly identical to the above script, say goodbye and thanks for voting, and get on with it. One time a woman said sheā€™d already turned in her ballot and I said ā€œAwesome! Thanks!ā€ A couple of times there were, unaccountably, Republicans at the number, and I reminded them to get in their absentee votes too before apologizing profusely and hanging up. And I did get a couple of straight hang ups, too. But that was about it. I didnā€™t get real into it because I felt a little weird about randomly calling people who didnā€™t know that they were on the absentee list, maybe, and who were maybe just getting home from work and feeling tired and wondering what to do about dinner and what was on TV that night. I donā€™t like it when people I donā€™t know call me so I tried to keep it short and respectful and coherent, in stark contrast to another Kerry campaigner who called me the other night, wanting to know when I was going to volunteer.

Volunteer: Uhā€¦hi, Iā€™m calling from theā€¦theā€¦from the, uh, Kerry campaign? Is Shee-yair-uh there? Shy-are-ah? Sha-ree-ah? There? Is Shah-are-ah there?

Chiara: [Rolling eyes] Yes, this is Chiara.

Volunteer: Wow, I never heard that name before.

Chiara: I know.

Volunteer: Oh, uh, okay, so, um, I was calling? To ask, if, uh, you? Would like? To, um, volunteer? For the Kerry? Campaign? Please? This, uh, weekend or whatever, maybe? For the, uh, Kerry campaign?

Chiara: Iā€™m phone banking Wednesday. I canā€™t make it this weekend.

Volunteer: Oh, ah, okay! This weekend. Youā€™re, uh, volunteering! Okay! For the Kerry! Campaign! Uh, okay. Yeah! Thanks!

Chiara: No, thank you.

You know? Short and to the point, thatā€™s how I like it and how I was trying to do it last night. So I was pretty shocked when I heard some of my co-phone-bankers do their stuff:

ā€œHello, Britney? Is Britney there? Is this Britney? Listen Britney, my name is J.Lo and Iā€™m calling on behalf of the Washington State Democrats. Now weā€™re, ha ha, not calling to ask for money, no sirree! In fact this very call was paid for by the Washington State Democrats.!Now, Britney…still with me, Britney?..Britney, I see here youā€™re an absentee voter. Britney, what Iā€™d like to do tonight is ask you, Britney, in the face of the most important election in our time, an election that could well change the course of historyā€¦Britney, Iā€™m asking you to send in your absentee ballot postmarked before November 2. With your full support for the entire Democratic ticket, and with your signature affixed plainly on the front of the envelope, in order to ensure, Britney, your God-given right to vote! Yes, Britney, for without that signature, your ballot is worthless! It means nothing, less than nothing! If you donā€™t sign the front of that envelope, Britney, THE DEMOCRATS WILL LOSE AND WHERE WILL WE ALL BE THEN, BRITNEY?ā€

I just thought that was a little much, you know?

But I covered my non-phone using ear with my hand and left my anemic messages and waited around for some pizza that never showed up and eventually got back on the bus and home. I was thinking of going again next week but I donā€™t know. I mean, I think itā€™s for a good cause and maybe there were a couple of people who were genuinely reminded to send in their ballots on time, and if so, good. I canā€™t help thinking, though, that last evening was mainly helpful for me in that it allowed me to feel like I was doing something to contribute to the democratic process or whatever, which allowed me, of course, to mainline my preferred drug of self-righteousness, which is absolutely stupid and worth some self-reflection if not some deep and heavy cynicism. I think, though, itā€™s better to have contributed a tiny itty bitty bit to an important cause and feel weird about its effectiveness or meaning than to contribute nothing, right? At least thatā€™s what Iā€™m banking on.


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