Yeah, she voted. And she goes to the ACORN school. What about it?10:30 am: Ninety minutes until volunteer time. What to do? Go to Starbucks and get my free cup of coffee (aka the LAST thing I need)? Or stand 101 feet outside the Whittier polling place and heckle? Decisions, decisions.
11:35 am: Off to 16th and Pearl to get out that vote! Contemplated taking Vito with me (Vote Obama or the dog gets it!) but he would rather stay here and snooze. Wondering what I'll do if they have me knocking on doors. Sample conversation:
"Did you vote?""Yes"
We'll see. Back soon with a full report.
I voted early. Piss off.
12: 15 pm: At the Obama staging area on Pearl, trying to figure out what the hell to do. There are a lot of people talking on cell phones. And there are a LOT of volunteers. Enough to canvass my neighborhood about 10 times over. This is good! Except, we're all in Boulder, which is a sure thing. This is bad!
I go up to Organizing Dude and say, is there anywhere we can go where they actually NEED us? Next thing I know, I'm driving me and a really nice lady named Amina to Arvada. Be careful what you wish for.
1-4 pm: Knocking on doors in the burbs, la la la. Once again I'm struck by how much canvassing reminds me of trick-or-treating. Except the payoff comes later, and it's uncertain. Whee. I get a lot of not-home voters (working class people who are....working! Surprise.)
And people who are home? See sample conversation above. I talk to one woman who is just getting in her car to go vote (we do the Obama club fist-bump) and a 12-year-old latchkey girl who says her mom is not home, but "She's voting for Obama today, so no worries."
Word at Obama headquarters is, there are more than a million people volunteering today to get out the vote. Awesome.
5:37 pm: Hey look! The Medill alumni magazine is here! This should be a fascinating diversion to keep my mind off the election! zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
9:55 pm: Four years ago, I was sitting at my friend Kevin Cobb's house at the Worst. Party Ever. Apologies to poor Kevin, it was like a fucking morgue. I was almost 3 months pregnant with Tea. In the haze, I just remember sitting there thinking: I'm depressed. I'm pregnant. And I'm SOBER. It was a horrible way to spend a Tuesday night.
I just left a party with a dozen people cheering, a whole lot of them crying. Waking up their friends and relatives to share the celebration. I'm still stunned. Tomorrow, I'll wake up and I'll go back to my impossible deadlines and the demands of parenting and, well, a lot of shit. But tonight? I'm floating. As I wait for Obama to take the stage with my sleeping kid beside me, I can finally, totally, absolutely let myself have Hope.
Thank you, America. Onward.