Working Families, March 25, 2025

For the past three days, Vicki, Chuck and I have been working to get out the vote for Wisconsin Supreme Court candidate Susan Crawford.  In a departure from prior election retreats, we have not been working with the Democratic Party, but instead with the Working Families Party and their partners Seed the Vote. 

This shift has been consequential.  In years past, as a Democratic Party volunteer, I felt it from both the left and the right:  hatred from Republicans and MAGA faithful, cynicism and withering critiques from Socialists, Marxists, environmentalists, pacifists . . . Uncoupling from the Democrats means that when I talk to voters I don’t have to rationalize or defend actions I don’t approve of myself.  We can share our condemnation of Chuck Schumer’s recent capitulation on the Continuing Resolution.  We can criticize the Dems for abandoning the working class, or their support of Israel’s murderous and horrific destruction of Gaza and its people.  Or the runaway defense budget, or the pervasive influence of lobbyists and campaign money.  We don’t have to square our ideals with the reality of the Democrats’ cupidity, realpolitik or cluelessness. 

Surprisingly, nobody has asked who the Working Families Party really is.  When I first heard the name I thought they were some fringe socialist group. Turns out WFP is what’s known as a fusion party.  They cross-endorse candidates who have been nominated by another party (typically the Democrats) so that the votes of the two parties “fuse.” (See explanations of WFP and fusion parties generally here, here and here).  Fusion parties are able to avoid the typical third-party trap of being a spoiler, à la Ralph Nader and Jill Stein.  Yet as independent entities they’re able to articulate their own values and principles and goals that resonate with voters, without having to sign onto the Democratic Party platform.

The WFP staff were young, smart, dynamic, buoyant, competent, strategic, skilled and flexible, and what I saw in these kids gave me hope for the future, and incidentally made me want to hang out with them more than the Democrats.  They felt more attuned to the times, and felt like they were better able to communicate with people of all types.  

Dropping my identity as a Democrat also means I’m not buying into the Republican-Democrat polarization that’s so universally disparaged.  When I approach a voter – a stranger – I don’t feel a need to armor myself against their potential attacks and gird my loins for a counterattack.  It gives me freedom of movement and flexibility.  It allows both of us, voter and canvasser, to have a true conversation about where we are as a nation and what kind of future we want to imagine.  This dynamic allows for much more fluid interactions, lightness, humor, and playfulness, and at the same time allows us to get real.  I’m much more available to listen and empathize, and connect.

Incidentally, dropping my identity also gives me some insight into how my own mind works, who I see myself to be, how identity can limit and constrain me.  Party allegiance tends to narrow my identity to a single dimension, when in reality I contain multitudes.  When I remove the mask I can respond more creatively and appropriately to the person I’m with.

This is built into the canvassing technique as well.  WFP’s partner Seed the Vote uses a canvassing model that’s rooted in listening, and in establishing a personal and emotional connection with each voter.  We start by asking what his/her most important issues are.  What’s on your mind?  How do you feel about things?  What worries you?  Are you happy and optimistic?  We can prompt them with a list of topics (economy and inflation? immigration? health care? public safety? foreign affairs?).  Then we encourage them to give examples and tell stories about their experiences and concerns.  We mirror their language and echo their experiences with stories of our own.  Then, and only then, after we’ve established a bond, do we start talking about the issue or candidate at hand.  And at that point both of us are looking at this from a similar perspective.  Our trainer Ron modeled this for us, with a young woman who was already a grandmother:  after we’d found the emotional connection (she works for the state and supported unionization of public service employees), he was able to close her for four things in quick smooth succession:  1) a specific plan for voting; 2) her phone number, so we could text a reminder and she would text a photo of she and her daughter with “I Voted” stickers; 3) an intention to talk with friends, family and fellow workers; and 4) volunteering with WFP.  This script and canvassing plan stands in contrast to the Dems, who tend to rush right into the political pitch and argumentation of positions; or the Souls to the Polls volunteers, who distribute leaflets, with hardly any human contact at all.

Back to the canvassing:  one young Latina woman told me, after some prompting, that she was worried about treatment of immigrants since she comes from an immigrant family – and this is what opened her up.  Another woman, who at first didn’t want to talk to me at all, finally let on that she’s worried that her kids and grandchildren will be unable to get jobs: she wants to be damned sure they can make it on their own, so she won’t have to spend her whole life looking after them.  And a third, with a Caribbean lilt in his voice, started slowly but once he got going flooded me with a litany of the Trump administration’s crimes and cruelties, and I had to remember that I needed to move on to other voters, other doors.  Sometimes all we have to do is remind them of how they feel, and they start talking.  What they hear coming out of their own mouth is more convincing than anything I could say.

If I dolly back and look at this more broadly, it’s clear that my own small effort won’t produce many votes. Some people may need a reminder about when and where to vote, others who are disaffected may need to be convinced to vote at all, and yet others who are on the fence might be persuaded to support our candidate.  But the numbers will necessarily be small.  The direct human personal interaction is what counts, the emotional connection.  I have a curiosity about people, about how they look at the world, about their understanding of their place and their agency, what do they feel they can control or influence?  In these conversations I learn about them and they about me, and we bond with one another.

I’m interested in Trump voters as well.  I’ve long felt that the Dems’ talking points function like a steel curtain, walling us off from everyone in the opposite camp.  At one house I rang the doorbell and while I waited on the front porch I took in the seasonal decor:  Easter Bunny tchotchkes to the right of the door, a wreath with painted eggs on the door itself, and a long vertical “Welcome” sign to the left, with the “o” replaced by an Easter egg.  A woman opened the door wearing a designer sweatshirt, pastel, with a cheesy design, tres suburban.  I asked her what issues were important to her and she replied without hesitating;  “polarization.”  She thought it was a shame that people couldn’t talk to one another anymore.  Then she went straight into criticizing people for demonstrating at Tesla dealerships, and she said she thought protesters shouldn’t vandalize property.  She said she had been a teacher at a Catholic school and said she had real problems with those who believe that abortion should be legal – “They have unprotected sex and then get rid of the baby.”  I recognized these as standard right wing tropes, and I listened to her complaints and groped around for some sort of a topic where we might share views or values – but there was no connection, no emotional bridge.  For all her concern about polarization, she seemed to have no idea of how she herself, personally, might act to bridge this gulf.  Here was a live person at her door, who held different views than hers, and she couldn’t find it in her heart to extend an olive branch, offer an entree.  And I couldn’t find a way either, I wasn’t able to find any buttons to push, or any way to coax her out or engage her.  In January when I visited DC for the inauguration, I had spoken to a few Republicans and I feel shared together and connected – but not this time. 

This afternoon Vicki ran into a canvasser for the Republican candidate, walking the same turf, and the woman told her told how she had lost her sixteen year old son to a roadrage gunshot, and explained that supports Trump because she has seen God, and He told her to save the unborn babies.  Vicki wasn’t able persuade her to change any of her views, but they connected at a deep emotional level, as mothers.  And Chuck met a man today, who said to him:  “I’m voting for the other guy, but I don’t hate you,” to which Chuck answered:  “After this is over we have to get along.”  They shook hands and parted friends.

We’ve been taught that upon waking up the Buddha declared that the entire world woke up with him.  For us it may only be one person at a time, nudging them toward enlightenment, but if we connect with them it’s worth it.