Advancing Our Democracy, One Door at a Time

Nov. 2, 2024

I come from a long line of political activists, at least four generations deep. I’ve had the privilege of being elected by my neighbors twice to serve them, and over the years, I’ve campaigned for many causes and candidates I believed in. At the presidential level, I volunteered for Barack Obama during his historic run for president, canvassing in New Hampshire for the primary and later in Virginia in the lead up to and including Election Day, sharing conversations and hopes with voters in mostly African American neighborhoods. I chided myself after Trump’s surprise victory over Hillary that I had done nothing, and that regret led me to write “You’re Fired!” a musical meant to inspire action for the 2020 election. Despite its premiere’s success in January 2020, COVID cut short the rest of its run. But this time, I promised myself that if this election was close, I’d help out once again. So, knowing that Bucks County, Pennsylvania, was one of the most important swing districts in the most important swing state, I signed up online, got up early on the last Saturday before the election, drove three hours South, and prepared to make a difference.

The energy was contagious when I arrived at Kamala HQ where an excited group of volunteers was already waiting to check in. The staff suggested I team up with another volunteer, Mark (not his real name), a New Yorker who drove down for the day just like me. We received two “turfs” that, as luck would have it, covered adjacent neighborhoods. After a quick five-minute lesson from Chris, a 20-something cheerful young man from California, we were ready to go. He instructed us that, with the election in just four days, our job was to ensure that people had a plan to vote, to help them find their polling place, to offer a ride if they needed it, and answer any last-minute questions. With a smile, he advised us to channel our inner Ned Flanders – friendly, enthusiastic, and helpful.

As Mark and I walked the streets of Levittown, it reminded me of the working-class neighborhood I grew up in. Built as the follow-up to America’s original mass-produced suburban community just outside New York City on Long Island, the cookie-cutter houses felt familiar, though each had unique touches accumulated over 70 years of tinkering by individual home-owners to try to make them as unique as themselves. I was so happy to not be alone in this important task, and we quickly fell into a rhythm as we talked about everything from the neighborhood’s history to our hopes for the election to our past experiences in between door knocks and conversations on this beautiful autumn day.

Not surprisingly for such a lovely Saturday afternoon, most doors went unanswered. I did get the sense that many people likely were home but screening us through Nest-style doorbells, giving them the choice to remain “unavailable,” fatigued by the constant campaigning in this pivotal swing district. And not long into our day, we encountered what I can only assume was a paid canvasser from the other side that we saw hustling between doors – in all likelhood part of Elon Musk’s outsourced Republican GOTV team – quick and impersonal, not looking like he was ready to engage in meaningful conversation, more concerned about making his numbers and getting paid.

One of our early knocks was a particularly enthusiastic Kamala supporter who had already voted. The reason we were knocking was because another family member hadn’t yet voted, and she assured us they would. She expressed feeling like she was “in the middle of Trump country,” with no Kamala signs nearby, and having heard rumors that people were stealing them. Across and down the street a bit, we met another Kamala supporter in a Bernie t-shirt, who had faced similar challenges. She lamented that her Biden sign had been stolen last election and that she received nasty remarks from her pro-Trump neighbors. Though we offered her a Kamala sign for her yard, she declined, saying she didn’t want to be a target for abuse again this year.

Later, we spoke with a nurse leaning toward Kamala but expressing concerns about immigrants getting more benefits that U.S. citizens, and I could see she was really conflicted. She described her trauma working in a hospital during COVID, where freezer trailers were used for bodies, and expressed with disgust with the lack of civility in recent years, but also pointed out that Kamala did nothing to stop illegal immigration as VP. Mark and I spent at least ten minutes laying out why we were so passionate about our reasons to support her, and I got the sense that our conversation nudged her closer to a decision by the time we left her.

Then there was the woman who cheerfully claimed to be supporting Kamala but laughed that she was writing in Gritty, the Flyers mascot. Mark and I gently pointed out that a write-in vote would ultimately help Trump and that in a race this close, every vote matters. We could hear her husband/partner behind the door and thinking maybe she was saying this for his benefit – we left her hoping she’d reconsider and not throw her vote away when she clearly had a preference.

We also encountered a man in his 60s and his wife, both strong Kamala supporters who expressed frustration over their son and daughter-in-law’s apathy. We encouraged them to ask their children to vote “for them,” and the wife affirmed, “I told them do it for your kids.” It felt like the right message to try to inspire a change in their children’s attitude, but the episode did highlight the fact that nearly half of all eligible voters don’t vote – that’s their right.

One of the day’s highlights was helping a Hispanic mother with her family’s voting logistics. She, her husband, and her 21-year-old son (a first-time voter) had received mail-in ballots but decided to vote in person to celebrate the son’s milestone. After calling our field representative, we assured her that as long as they brought their mail-in ballots with them, they could vote in person without a hitch. Seeing her relief and newfound confidence felt rewarding.

Our conversation with a young man in a “Meh – I’m indifferent” t-shirt was a reminder of the apathy out there. Disillusioned with the system, he felt his vote didn’t matter. We tried to engage him, but knowing our job was to get out the vote, we cut the encounter short. Though he wouldn’t be voting this time, we encouraged him to register for future elections, hopeful our words might inspire him down the line.

Near the end of our shift, we met an African American family out on the curb, saying goodbye to family members who had been visiting. When we asked the father if he planned to vote and would he share for whom, he replied emphatically, “Can’t you tell?” His entire family chimed in, confirming they were all voting for Kamala, and their unity and enthusiasm were a great boost of positivity.

Our final door knock of the day was a Turkish woman in her 30s, concerned about civility and the rule of law. When we brought up January 6th and how Trump had organized the event and incited the crowd, she was surprised to learn that the mob had chanted “Hang Mike Pence.” Her reaction made it clear this was new information that maybe had swayed her opinion. She asked for help finding her polling place, which we provided, reminding her that every vote matters.

Returning to headquarters, we swapped stories with other volunteers. Our field coordinator recounted a memorable moment where a Trump supporter’s wife privately admitted her support for Kamala—a story that reinforced the importance of one-on-one connections. Another pair of volunteers down from Brooklyn shared similar stories, particularly about women feeling freer to support Kamala when their husbands weren’t around, reminding me of the Julia Roberts’s ad about ballot privacy – what happens in the privacy of the polling booth stays in the polling booth, and hubby doesn’t need to know the truth other than they voted for the right candidate. The camaraderie and commitment in the room were reinforcing, and I later found out that at any given minute that day, there were 2,000+ volunteers knocking on doors all across Pensylvania, doing exactly what we had been doing in our one little neighborhood

Driving home, I reflected on our four hours canvassing a neighborhood that reminded me of home, but that actually matters in the context of this pivotal election. I knew that what Mark and I did might sway no more than a few votes, but I also knew there was a volunteer army of people like us going door-to-door this weekend in support of Kamala, in support of democracy. I gained solace knowing that I’d done my part and that countless others were out there doing theirs.

As an incurable optimist, I believe in the American people and in the decision an election brings. Regardless of Tuesday’s outcome, I will respect the result, knowing that I did my part to contribute to the enduring legacy of our democracy.