I keep reading that white folks like me don’t think America is racist. I’m not going to quibble about an axiomatic proposition, but I would like to think, if America isn’t racist, why do I keep seeing examples of racism in America?
This past weekend, Hope Springs from Field PAC led canvassing in North Carolina, Florida, Georgia, Texas, Pennsylvania and Wisconsin. It is the fourth consecutive weekend that we’ve had volunteers out in all the states we are involved with at the same time. But it is also the first weekend where we had a noticeably smaller turnout by volunteers knocking on doors. Could be the heat, but I strongly suspect that is the result of the Delta flair-up.
Last Saturday, we knocked on doors in masks and those who brought their vaccination card wore the button. We do get comments about the button, and people have even asked what was the significance of the kicking ass. Always interested in the breadth of branding. This diary is about my experience in Cary, North Carolina, where we’ve been knocking on doors for more than a month. And it is specifically about my interaction with an incredibly nice, bright young African-American man from North Carolina who is attending college in New Jersey. He had grown up in the neighborhood where we were canvassing and was open about his own experiences there.
I acted as the driver of a cooling vehicle, directing four canvassers who were working their turf. I had cut this turf (I cut a lot of turf each Friday, for those who wonder why I don’t post on Fridays!) and I came down to observe how effective my turf cutting was for these conditions.
Ideally, when using a cooling car strategy, you’d release two canvassers at the top of a street, where one takes odd and the other takes the even numbers on the street, who then knock out their sides and meet up again with the cooling vehicle at the end of the street. The other pair would be dropped off to do the same in the next street over. Ideally. But that’s not how it works, all the time. Cutting turf to canvass is hot/humid weather means focusing on finding short walks that can be completed in under 30 minutes, if no voters open their doors.
On Saturday, William (the nice young man I mentioned above) was paired with someone whose turf included voters who were extremely chatty. Which meant he was in the car with me a lot, waiting for her to complete her assignment. So he was talking about this nice, mixed, middle class neighborhood and especially the historical progression of it from an all black neighborhood during segregation to an increasingly white neighborhood with a significant number of tear downs — and an significant increase in public services over that time.
He just casually mentioned the fact that there used to be a wall in this neighborhood to physically divide what had been the white and black sections of town. “You can still see parts of it,” he added. So I asked him to show me “The Wall” — and he agreed to show it to me when we were done.
Hope Springs from Field PAC is knocking on doors in a grassroots-led effort to increase awareness of the fact that Democrats care about our voters and are working to protect their rights. We are thinking about how to mitigate Voter Suppression efforts, get around them and make sure we have "super compliance," both informing and helping our voters meet the requirements and get out and vote. We are taking those efforts to the doors of the communities most effected (the intended targets or victims) of these new voter suppression laws.
Obviously, we rely on grassroots support, so if you support field/grassroots organizing and our efforts to protect our voters, we would certainly appreciate your support:
https://secure.actblue.com/donate/hopefield
Hope Springs from Field PAC was started by former Obama Field Organizers because field was the cornerstone of our success. The approach we adopted was focused on listening, on connecting voters and their story to the candidate and our cause. Repeated face to face interactions are critical. And we are among those who believe that Democrats didn’t do as well in the 2020 Congressional races as expected because we didn’t knock on doors. We are returning to the old school basics: repeated contacts, repeated efforts to remind them of protocols, meeting them were they are. Mentoring those who need it (like first time and newly registered voters). Reminding, reminding, reminding, and then chasing down those voters whose ballots need to be cured.
Just as promised, he took me to see the remaining parts of “The Wall.” It wasn’t as high as the Berlin Wall, but it would have kept white and black residents from seeing into each other’s back yard. It’s presence would have been a constant reminder of the separation inherent in segregation. You couldn’t — you wouldn’t — have had any interaction with your backyard neighbors. You probably would never have known how were your backyard neighbors.
I asked William what did its presence have on them while he was growing up. It had once been the dividing line for elementary schools when he was that age, but that had changed for his little brother. He was quick to note, though, that his house was a lot closer to the (old white) high school than the one he attended.
Before we got to see the wall, though, we made a pit stop for several canvassers to use the facilities. I had everyone pick out something to drink out of the refrigerated section. Even though we had drink and knacks in the car, what we had wouldn’t have been as cold, plus the choices would have been greater — at least that was the thought. After everyone had brought their choice, I got in line and William was there with me. I thought, I should use the bathroom, too, while we were there so I gave William some cash. When I returned, I found William digging through his pockets — apparently I hadn’t given him enough. But I noticed the cashier glaring at William before I realized what William was doing. “What’s the problem,” I asked the cashier and he held out the ten. I could see on the register that the total was $10.54 so I whipped out my debit card. “Is this your boy?” the cashier said derisively.
“I would be proud if he was my son, but, no, he’s not.”
The cashier gave me a funny look, and said, “next.”
IS THIS YOUR BOY?!?! Not only was a kinda chatty, seemingly friendly cashier acting impatiently because the black guy didn’t have 54 cents right off the bat but used a term for him commonly used in the racist vernacular. He didn’t seem much older than William. But he did want to assert his feeling of superiority over William.
“What an idiot,” I said.
We continued canvassing but the attitudes of the other three towards William were noticeably different. Somewhere between embarrassed for him and wanting to comfort him. And he was clearly just trying to shake it off.
At his final stop (at least I think it was his last house on the list), I found William talking to this older white lady. I sat in the car for a bit, but she motioned for me to come over. She was maybe five foot tall (William was at least 6’), chatting amiably to William. He had gone to high school with her grandchildren and she knew his mom. She was asking how his mom was doing and he was asking about how her grandchildren were doing. And I’m thinking, this is nice. But as William was asking about her grandchildren, she says, “They keep asking me what I want for Christmas and I tell them, I want my America back.” Then she turns to me and says, “you know, how it was when we were growing up” (pretty sure she was older than I am).
You know, back when the wall that William was just about to show me separated black and white homes. This lady apparently owned some kind of construction business, but she was yearning for the days when she couldn’t have gotten a credit card.
“Was she on your list,” I asked William as we were returning to the vehicle. “Nope.” No acknowledgement at all from him of the implications of her comment. “She was out in the yard as I was walking to the pick-up point.”
I can’t say that this woman was a Trump voter, but I can say she sounded like one. Her friendliness towards this remarkable black young man was probably all the proof she needed for herself to show that she wasn’t a racist. That America is not a racist country. That there must be some other reason why young black men like William get shot and killed by the police. But I had to wonder if this had been a good, positive experience for a kid who has been getting increasingly active, wanting to make things better in his neighborhood and the world (as he had said earlier). He looked at me and smiled.
“I registered three people today,” he said proudly. “I talked them into it.”
“If you registered them, you are responsible for them, making sure they come out to vote,” I retorted.
“Yeah, I know a couple of girls,” he said, “beautiful girls,” he emphasized, “that I’m going to ask to be their voter mentors.”
I didn’t ask if *they* were registered to vote. I knew what he was doing. I knew he understood what he was doing.
We can quibble all we want about whether or not America is racist. But until we treat everyone equally, with respect, with better understanding, we are going to continue to have this argument. What I see is not good enough. No kid should have to experience that. We aren’t doing good enough. In Loudoun County, a couple of counties over from where I live, we have white parents up at arms because they don’t want their children to feel guilty about slavery, or lynchings, or white privilege. But their kids will live in a world where evidence of those things are all around, at least for the black kids, who have to suffer through various indignities. Loudon County isn’t so different that Cary, N.C. We got to do better, and we got to empower young African-Americans like William so they don’t have to endure just to make it through the day. William wants a better America and I do, too. I was lucky to meet him and learn about his perspective.
These canvasses are organized and led by (mostly) Obama field alums who have volunteered their time in their states to get this effort off the ground. Their work, knowledge and skill sets are invaluable. Our Georgia efforts are organized and led by (mostly) HBCU students (at least one has graduated) at Albany State. They are truly the motivators behind this entire project, largely envisioned by them, because they are determined to not lose the voice(s) they put into the U.S. Senate. They have very big plans for keeping that seat. If you think they are sitting back, basking in the light, you’d mistaken.
Our main expenses (right now) are typical canvassing materials (water, snacks, cooling towels, walk packets, lit, buttons and access to VAN) as well as the mobile printers we are purchasing to comply with the voter ID requirements in several states. At this time, all the money we raise is devoted to this. But we are currently relying upon the Obama alumni network for organizers and cutting turf. We want to bring in other field organizers as we are able, especially since many of the people who are cutting turf now will want to devote more of their volunteer time to the candidates and causes they support.
If you are able to support our efforts to protect Democratic voters, especially in minority communities, expand the electorate, and believe in grassroots efforts to increase voter participation and election protection, please donate:
https://secure.actblue.com/donate/hopefield
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