Getting off My Butt Helped Dull My Election Pessimism
Phone banking is the easiest way to get involved in the election — and you can still do it right now
Ladies and gentlemen, the finish line is in sight. I know this election cycle feels like it’s been going on for at least two decades and it probably won’t be completely settled by Wednesday morning, but I can promise you that the end is nigh.
I don’t know about you, but my brain is seconds away from exploding at all times. When I’m not stressing about the possibilities of a Trump presidency, I’m stressing about losing the Senate. Even when I’m feeling at my most hopeful, like when I saw those bozos in their dumb trucks last month, there are still creeping doubts sitting in the background.
This cycle I’ve been less politically active than I was in the past. I’ve been giving money to down-ballot candidates through OATH, a group that funnels money to winnable races that don’t get too much attention. I think they do amazing work and I’d much rather send my money out to them to place where it's needed than to give the Harris/Walz campaign even more cash when they have raised so much already. But this was the extent of my activism this cycle and my inaction had been gnawing at me. So when the coworking spot I pop into a few days a week to break up the monotony of working from home was hosting a Harris/Walz phone bank, I knew I had to volunteer.
Now is the time to say that I do not like talking on the phone. At all. I’m the type of person who will find every single possible way to avoid doing so. Text. Email. DM. Carrier pigeon. Whatever it takes to avoid calling someone. So I had some trepidation about doing this, but the other alternative at this point was to go and knock on doors. NO THANK YOU.
A group of about 15 people showed up. The woman heading the thing (I’m gonna avoid using names since I didn’t ask anybody if they were cool with me writing about this) showed up with seltzers both boozy and non-boozy, some pizzas, and such infectious enthusiasm that it calmed my jitters. We went through a quick training and within minutes got to making calls.
All we needed to do was log into a website and we were given a script with information about each person we were going to be calling. It told us their name, age, affiliation (almost all of them were Democrats — this list was focused on getting out the vote — but there were some unaffiliated voters and a few Republicans), and their polling location. This way we could ask them if they were committed to voting for Harris/Walz, if they had a plan for how they were going to vote, if they knew where their polling place was, and if they needed any additional resources to get out to the polls. Each call would be logged with this info or if we had been unable to reach them. Not to be too much of a nerd here, but it was really cool how accessible the whole set up was. If you can dress yourself in the morning, you can figure out how to phone bank, it was that easy.
Remember how I said I hate to talk on the phone? This is also true of voters in the middle of Pennsylvania (we were targeting a district in the exact middle of the state). I was 0-43 to start off. Not a single person answered the phone. Some of the numbers were disconnected, others went straight to voicemail. A couple of them just started playing music instead of ringing, which I guess is a thing people still set up their phones to do. I was getting extremely discouraged. Then somebody finally picked up.
He seemed excited that I had called. He was serving in the military and had just returned from overseas, he hadn’t submitted his absentee ballot yet but promised he’d be mailing it in the next day. I reminded him to get it in early and he told me, “Don’t you worry. We need to elect Harris and I’ll do my part.” I thanked him and said goodnight.
This was so easy! Over the next two hours, I was able to speak to around 25 potential voters. Most of them were like him and enthusiastic about getting out and voting. More than a handful had already cast their ballots. And yeah, there were a few jerks. Someone yelled at me to stop calling. Someone told me they don’t discuss politics with strangers and hung up. One person just made a groan and hung up the second I said “...from the Kamala Harris campaign.” Another asked why she would vote for “a [slur] who hates America?” That was the worst I heard from anyone, and it disheartened me and left a bad taste in my mouth. But there were so many positive conversations that overwhelmed her negativity.
I spoke with an 18-year-old woman who told me she was still on the fence. We talked about what was important to her, I told her the reasons I’m voting for Harris. She shared that her parents were voting for Trump so she wasn’t sure what she should do. I stressed that her vote was her vote, it doesn’t matter who her parents support. She seemed buoyed by this and told me she’ll “probably vote Harris.”
I talked to an older woman who was driving home from getting groceries. To paraphrase, she very quickly told me, “I’m too damn busy to talk more, sorry, but I early voted for Kamala this week.”
One man I talked to was unsure of where his polling place was and I was able to tell him the address. He was delighted to know that it was a short walk away and said he’d be going there on Tuesday.
After each person I spoke with, I felt better about this upcoming Tuesday. A little more hopeful. More energized and eager to do my part to help win a critical swing state for the good guys. It’s so easy to feel scared and helpless right now, but I found that getting out and doing something, even something that is such a low lift, eased my concerns tremendously.
I joined a phone bank because the fear that I hadn’t done enough to get rid of Trump was eating away at me. I know I’m not the only one who feels that way, and trust me, I have some pretty good reasons to want to never think about that man ever again.
There’s still time to do your part. Encourage your friends and family to vote. You can join a Zoom phone bank right now and start making calls at home. There are plenty of organizations planning trips to swing states to knock on doors, which I’m not brave enough to do, but you may be. This is such an easy way to chip in; I could not recommend it enough. The end is almost here, let’s make it a happy one.
I thought about phone banking, but wound up sending postcards to infrequent voters via MomRising instead.
I hate talking on the phone, too, but this piece has made me rethink that. Thank you for including the link for the zoom phone bank. Picking a time slot now!