I Talked To Strangers About Politics and Didn’t Die

Scroll down to see how to get a pair of socks, knitted for you by me. 

On Saturday, I went out to register voters. I was stumping for a congressional candidate on Saturday (Josh Harder, who is absolutely blowing his shot to have his campaign slogan be VOTE HARDER but seems like a great candidate). I never thought I’d be the person to stand on a corner, asking strangers to talk about politics. But 2018 isn’t like other years, is it?

Two of my best friends and I went together to join a Swing Left campaign. The whole idea behind to Swing Left is to flip the House to a Democratic majority. They match you up with the district nearest you that needs help with this. (Put in your own zip code!)

While we worked on Saturday, we were official volunteers with the Tracy Democrats Club, badges and everything.

Me, Juliet Blackwell, and Adrienne Bell

We stood around the mall and tried to get people to talk to us.

And it went exactly as you think it would. Most people gave us the headshake or the deer in the headlights look as they raced past as fast as they could.

I get it. I am always that guy. Where I live in Oakland, wherever I go there’s a paid person trying to get my name on some kind of petition.

On this: I have a friend who works in self-defense, and she noticed one day that these paid signature gatherers were using tactics that only people with bad boundaries use. In other words, they were being paid to be well trained and excellent harassers.

So she doubled back and told them of her interest in this fact, and got them to talk to her about how they work. They are trained not to respond to obvious clues like protective language and body movements, the things we all take for granted. The funniest part was when she left, he attempted his spiel for real on her again.

Those are the people that terrify me. I will go a block out of my way to avoid passing in front of one.

Me and my pals? We were not professionals.

We would ask, we’d get shot down, and we’d smile and wait for the opportunity to try again. (Seriously, send writers to do these jobs! We are PROS at rejection! Get out of your face? Of course, sir! Ma’am, may I talk to you?)

I think my favorite answer was one woman who barked, “I don’t talk politics with anyone!” I can totally respect that.

But the answers that broke my heart were the ones we got from people who said they were too disheartened to vote. They were distraught with the direction of the country and truly thought their vote wouldn’t change anything.

Of course, we know this might be true! That’s heartbreaking in another, agonizing way.

But we have to fight. We have to do things we don’t want to do. We have to push past comfort points. Yes, it does wonders for the soul to hold the sign and stand in the middle of the street and shout at the top of your lungs how enraged you are with the injustices of this country.

Going to a protest doesn’t do very much, though.

We all know that in our hearts, even though we hate to admit it. We’re shouting into echo chambers made of high-rise walls.

Getting out there, trying to get people to register to vote, telling them about the Democratic candidate who could make a difference in their district, that felt like doing something for once. (We weren’t arguing politics. We didn’t engage with Republicans. No one ever changed their mind based on a conversation with a stranger in a mall. We were focused on one thing: Getting our voters out in November.)

And while it was truly AGONIZING, I’ll do it again. And I’ll probably be exactly as uncomfortable next time. That’s okay. It fed my soul more than making a banner.

Are you registered?

Edited to add: I’ll knit a pair of socks (my choice of colors – I have to enjoy it!) for the first three people who register (who weren’t before) and pledge to vote! (You’ll send me a pic of yourself with your “I Voted” sticker and get the socks! It’ll be November and getting cold!) Don’t you need socks? GO HERE to find out how to do it in your state and then let me know! First three get ’em.

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