Working America
Busy busy. As my mother always said, "Grass will not grow under your feet". No sooner did I land in Colorado then I had several interviews. I arrived on a Friday and by Monday I was knocking on doors for the election. My first job was with Working America. It's like a union that working class people can join to increase their political strength through numbers. They tackle issues such as workplace rights, corporate accountability, health care, quality education and retirement. Their approach to elections is to research the issues and/or candidates and support whomever/whatever is best for the working class. This election Working America supported both President Obama and Congressman Ed Perlmutter on the Colorado ballot.
As I said, I knocked on doors for working America. Yup. I showed up on Monday, met the 9 other footmen, was given a briefing on dialoguing topics and loaded up into a van to hit the streets. We did some cheers along the way and discussed why Obama and Perlmutter were the chosen ticket for Working America, which loosely translates as "they are the champions of the working class". My training consisted of going door to door with another woman, Brianna, and learning the lingo. I also practiced using my issued i-pad which had a map of all of the houses I needed to hit, their names, their affiliations and the questions I would record their answers to, including for whom they planned on voting. After 30 houses I was set loose and on my own. Just me and my i-pad.
One might imagine that the neighborhoods I was traversing were not among the up and coming neighborhoods where my hip friends live. It was an eye-opener. The neighborhoods seemed fine enough, just different. For example, they weren't well lit. People did ok on lawn upkeep but there were several homes on my list that had been foreclosed upon; a sign of the times. I was impressed by the kindness of the inhabitants as I invaded their privacy to take a political poll. I didn't engage in any conversations but rather listened as people stated their opinions, fears and thoughts on the upcoming election. Acting as a political sounding board is not my strong suit since I am an educator and I consider myself to be well-informed on the issues; however I was reminded that I was not there to debate, just to record answers. As one woman passionately proclaimed Obama was a Muslim and had never proven his citizenship, as another woman exclaimed that gays and lesbians do not deserve the same rights as traditionally married people and as another worried over the religious affiliations of the candidates, I donned my most compassionate face. One African American woman said her biggest issue was racism and that it's time for it to end. Her husband was just inside and I asked if I could poll him. He came to the door and held her hand as he answered my questions. What made it so endearing was that he was white and this biracial couple had obviously faced discrimination. The job started at 1, we hit the streets at 4 and didn't get picked back up until 9 to head to the office, file our reports and clock out by 10. As the sun went down, temperatures dropped and I needed my headlamp to navigate the inner city streets. Many people I was polling were concerned for me and I started to wonder what the heck I was doing! I was actually a bit scared and felt kinda bad knocking on people's doors after dark. I also don't have the right to ask who they are voting for because that is supposed to be PRIVATE. I was impressed by the kindness shown me and limited number of doors slamming in my face. By the time I knocked on my last door I was weary and wary. Only the wafting fumes of Mary Jane greeted me at the door but she wasn't a registered voter.
Deciding not to work for Working America was a trying issue. I believe in working. I wanted to work. I also don't consider myself any different than those I was working alongside. If they were doing this line of work, why shouldn't I? I believe in a level playing field. I believe in working when you have the chance. Yet there were so many reasons I just could not go on. From safety to moral and ethical qualms I weighed the pros and cons. I finally decided to discontinue my canvassing career.
It all worked out as things tend to do. The next day I was offered a part time job at a library homework center. I am also in my second week of substitute teaching for the Boulder Valley School District. It's good. I asked for work and I got about 11 hours a day. The universe does listen. I have so much more to say. My eyes are being opened in countless ways. My education continues.
One might imagine that the neighborhoods I was traversing were not among the up and coming neighborhoods where my hip friends live. It was an eye-opener. The neighborhoods seemed fine enough, just different. For example, they weren't well lit. People did ok on lawn upkeep but there were several homes on my list that had been foreclosed upon; a sign of the times. I was impressed by the kindness of the inhabitants as I invaded their privacy to take a political poll. I didn't engage in any conversations but rather listened as people stated their opinions, fears and thoughts on the upcoming election. Acting as a political sounding board is not my strong suit since I am an educator and I consider myself to be well-informed on the issues; however I was reminded that I was not there to debate, just to record answers. As one woman passionately proclaimed Obama was a Muslim and had never proven his citizenship, as another woman exclaimed that gays and lesbians do not deserve the same rights as traditionally married people and as another worried over the religious affiliations of the candidates, I donned my most compassionate face. One African American woman said her biggest issue was racism and that it's time for it to end. Her husband was just inside and I asked if I could poll him. He came to the door and held her hand as he answered my questions. What made it so endearing was that he was white and this biracial couple had obviously faced discrimination. The job started at 1, we hit the streets at 4 and didn't get picked back up until 9 to head to the office, file our reports and clock out by 10. As the sun went down, temperatures dropped and I needed my headlamp to navigate the inner city streets. Many people I was polling were concerned for me and I started to wonder what the heck I was doing! I was actually a bit scared and felt kinda bad knocking on people's doors after dark. I also don't have the right to ask who they are voting for because that is supposed to be PRIVATE. I was impressed by the kindness shown me and limited number of doors slamming in my face. By the time I knocked on my last door I was weary and wary. Only the wafting fumes of Mary Jane greeted me at the door but she wasn't a registered voter.
Deciding not to work for Working America was a trying issue. I believe in working. I wanted to work. I also don't consider myself any different than those I was working alongside. If they were doing this line of work, why shouldn't I? I believe in a level playing field. I believe in working when you have the chance. Yet there were so many reasons I just could not go on. From safety to moral and ethical qualms I weighed the pros and cons. I finally decided to discontinue my canvassing career.
It all worked out as things tend to do. The next day I was offered a part time job at a library homework center. I am also in my second week of substitute teaching for the Boulder Valley School District. It's good. I asked for work and I got about 11 hours a day. The universe does listen. I have so much more to say. My eyes are being opened in countless ways. My education continues.
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