skill issue

When I planned to help get out the vote in August, I didn’t really have phone banking in mind. I remembered the one phone banking shift I did for Clinton’s campaign in 2016 as hellish—not a great match for my skill set. I mean, who really wants to spend a couple hours calling strangers? Nobody I know. But I listen to Fated Mates, which since 2020 under the name Fated States has organized phone banks that have made more than one million calls to support Democrats and pro-abortion ballot measures, and I was persuaded to sign up for just one shift, the least I could do.

In the end, I did eight phone banking shifts this election cycle: five with Fated States, two recruiting Election Protection volunteers for Common Cause, and one for the Harris-Walz campaign. Along the way, I saw how phone banking is actually a great match for my skill set. It’s similar in many ways to the chat reference shifts I do most weeks. (I’ve written about chat reference a couple times; it’s one way that libraries offer online reference services.) For example, on chat reference I don’t know when someone is going to ping me with a question, and similarly while phone banking I don’t know when the automated dialer—cycling through many, many numbers while I sit there listening to hold music—will connect me with a voter or potential volunteer. And, as on chat reference, I don’t know who I’m going to talk to or what concerns will come up. The main thing is to ask good questions, give the information needed based on the conversation, and be friendly.

By my third phone banking shift, I found myself drawing on my teaching experiences to create a cheerful persona, and I was preparing similarly to how I prepare for chat reference shifts: making sure I had water and food with me along with the basic information most likely needed for conversations, such as when to vote, how to get a mail-in ballot, and details about the candidate or ballot measure I was calling to support. The snacks, water, information, and semi-manufactured cheer sustained me despite my anxiety—which is still part of my experience of chat reference shifts, though less so now than before. My confidence in my ability to get and share information with people is growing, and it seemed to me that phone banking is more about information than persuasion. However, it may be that I perceived phone banking in this way because my skills at verbal persuasion are not as strong—skills to work on for the future, then.

But, you might wonder, why am I writing about all this work I did for a campaign that lost?

Well, not quite everything was lost. With Fated States, I called Arizona to support Proposition 139 and Missouri to support Amendment 3, both of which passed. But we did not secure the top of the ticket. My god we gave so much heart and sweat to this campaign, and it is devastating that it was somehow not enough to defeat the worst person in the world, who is very obviously decomposing before the eyes of anyone paying attention. Our visible enthusiasm and hard work were not enough overcome the racism, sexism, and misogynoir that are endemic and seemingly intractable in this country, a global wave of anti-incumbent sentiment, or today’s abysmal information environment.

But I am writing about all the work I have done because there is more work to be done, and I believe that we all must continue to develop our skills and do our part. As Timothy Snyder has said (in a lecture that I have listened to many times), history doesn’t actually come to an end. The corollary is that, as Jamelle Bouie has said, politics haven’t stopped happening. Not everything is lost already, not yet.

The questions I’ve been asking myself, and that you can be asking yourself, too, if you aren’t already, are: Where is my power? What do I know how to do? What can I be learning? And what effective organizations are already in place, to which I can contribute my power and skills?

And here are my answers, as they stand now.

Because I understand electoral politics as well as how our system works, or ought to work, and because the GOP threatens the human rights of women, immigrants, people of color, and queer people, my praxis is to cosplay as a normie lib to get Democrats elected and then, once they are in office, badger them to do the right thing. Indivisible has the know-how, experience, and discipline for this work, so I’ll be working with Indivisible Brooklyn—my local group, and also the group that (to me, shockingly, given that the Kings County Democratic Party is shall we say not what it could be) is here in the borough where both congressional Democratic leaders live.

Because I work in higher education and want to do what I can (as an adjunct! with very little power on my own!) to protect students and faculty and counter any anticipatory obedience by leadership, I’m going to start attending union meetings while also continuing my day-to-day work supporting liberatory pedagogies.

Because I regularly vow to alleviate suffering, I will seek ways to do so, particularly here in my community, which may soon find itself under threat.

Because, being human, I can’t do everything, I will continue to give money to organizations that are doing the work I believe in, such as the Trans Justice Funding Project.

Because this work isn’t actually like a marathon—people might say that it is, but as someone who has run five marathons, I tell you it is not, because this race or whatever else you might call it has no end—I will take care to pace myself. I cannot be effective if I try to do too much, or if I don’t eat well, or if I don’t get enough sleep.

All of the above probably sounds far more assured than I actually feel. A lot of fucked-up shit is likely to happen next year, but I don’t know exactly what or how. No one does. We are The Fool, forever walking toward the edge of an unknown future. The uncertainty is terrifying, even as it may also offer opportunities. Despite my fears, I want to do what I can to make space in my life for joy. For now, I’m planning to run the New York City Marathon again next year. And for sure, I’ll continue to read romance novels and read and write poetry. I’m already 51 years old. I don’t want to give any more of my life to mucking around in my disgust for hateful people. I’d rather spend my time doing the work that needs to be done and going on loving the world, though it might break my heart.