My recent trip to Washington, D.C. provides numerous lessons, memories, and challenges that will stay with me well into the future. I experienced the rush, joy, and exhaustion of a campaign run the right way. I learned what it means to be at the heart of a campaign team, and to bear the burden of carrying the hopes and ambitions of a team that has poured its heart out working for you. Some say burden has a bad connotation, but this need not be, and I used the burden I felt as a candidate to drive my efforts during the campaign. I became more familiar with the thrills of a debate, the wonderment of learning the hopes, talents, and challenging questions of the voters with whom I spoke, and, more than anything, gained an enhanced understanding of what it means to be called to serve and the mentality once must take to public service. Indeed, as I sit here in a corner booth at the airport in Denver, I reflect upon a series of days that will inform both my immediate future plans, as well as those longer-term hopes, goals, and motivations that I hope and expect will empower me to make a meaningful difference in my community and in our world.
Thursday- let the games begin!
After a morning of returning to the campus of George Washington University, my alma mater, to hold interviews with seniors as an alumni recruiter for Teach For America, I cabbed across a snowy Washington, D.C. to meet with Front-Line Leaders Academy staff and head to the headquarters of People For The American Way, a progressive political advocacy organization dedicated to creating a more just, equitable society by empowering leaders from across the country to inspire progressive change in their communities, whether as elected officials, community organizers, or other modes of activism. After arriving at PFAW, I was taken to a library room in which I was to tape my ‘stump speech’ for the weekend’s FLLA election. Stump speeches reveal to voters a candidate’s central message and outlines exactly why they are the best person to serve in the position for which they are running. Having tinkered with the text of my speech on the way to D.C., I was unsure of how it would come out, however my focus was fluidity and ingenuity. After a couple of takes, I found the groove and delivered what I felt to be a clear and compelling campaign into what I was all about as a candidate and exactly why I believed I could best represent their interests as the PFAW’s 2008 Youth Ambassador.
Upon returning to our hosting hotel, I immediately returned to my room to prepare for the conference’s opening reception, at which the four candidates for PFAW’s Youth Ambassador position would be formally introduced to voters and campaign activities would officially begin. The reception was held at the headquarters of the National Educators Association. As a first-year teacher, I felt at home in the friendly confines of the NEA as a series of enthusiastic and articulate speakers kicked off conference activities. In an atrium with roughly two hundred fellows from one of FLLA’s sister programs, Young People For, which is also under the broad PFAW umbrella, I enjoyed going around the room, introducing myself to the young leaders in attendance and learning as much as I could about the passionate ways in which they were working to affect positive change in their communities.
Amongst them, many stand out in my mind. John Scott currently attends school at Lincoln University in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and is a member of a group called ‘Lincoln People For’, which is working at a grassroots level to e power individuals near the university to improve their living conditions. I learned about Maya Torralba, an activist, educator, and, perhaps most importantly, mother, who is currently campaigning to become the next state representative from Oklahoma’s 56 Legislative District. Maya and I had a wonderful discussion. She has spent significant time in Navajo Nation (including in Church Rock, New Mexico, where I teach, and was actually familiar with my school!), as well as on other Native American reservations across the Southwest and in her native Oklahoma. Maya inspired me with her passion and driven approach to service. She would also become a better friend as the weekend progressed.
After an evening of meeting new and interesting people, getting the message out about our campaign and its main message, ‘deeply rooted’, my team and I took a slow, cold stroll back to our hotel and called it a night. Day one on the trail had gone well. We retired to our beds hopeful and fired up for day two, which would prove to be the most significant of the campaign.
Day two was big. We woke up early, headed over to the NEA and began setting up campaign posters. Breakfast time was great, as I circulated the room and met dozens of fellows from all over the country, including a lively and diverse group from the Lone Star State. They talked to me about education, immigration, and human rights, as well as the incredibly impressive projects they lead in their communities to promote those issues. I was becoming enchanted by the multitude of backgrounds of YP4 fellows and feeling increasingly inspired by the change young people like them and those in my own fellowship program, FLLA, can create.
Sitting through sessions, I felt squirmish. I knew that the day’s, indeed the campaign’s, most critical event would be the coming debate, which was to be held at 7:00 that evening. We’d held a mock debate at our previous conference in Denver, at which I’d felt comfortable and excited. That, however, had been in front of, oh, twenty or so individuals, not 250+! I felt confident that things would go well, but I knew the campaign would, to a large extent, ride on my showing, and so, naturally, there existed some angst.
At around 5:40, my campaign manager, quite brilliantly, I think, told me to just go find a quiet place and rest. The day had been exhausting, speaking with folks at every turn and doing my best to convey our message accurately and inspiringly. I laid down for about twenty minutes and then got back to it. At 7, we huddled into the auditorium, and by 7:15, the four candidates were on-stage. I, luckily, obtained a stylish, retro yellow-checkered sports coat to sport during the discussion and proudly headed on state feeling quite classy. Others may have had other thoughts, but I thought it a quality coat.
The debate began with opening statements. I’d prepared a statement that was around one minute, which I thought to be limit. I was a bit worried that I’d rush in order to get the whole thing in, and when the moderator stated that we’d have two minutes, I must say I felt relieved. As I eased into my piece, beginning with a complaint about how our program advisors had prepared us for many things but never for having to use the restroom during a debate(!), I began to felt more at ease. I talked about my work as a teacher and the cause of educational equity representing this country’s most critical issue. I encouraged audience members to take their commitment to progressing education for all children in our country to the next level. I conveyed to them all that my time in the classroom has done for me, as well as why and how it left me extremely prepared and eager to be their ambassador to People For The American Way. By the end of my introduction, I was fully into the swing of things and eager to get the debate going.
The questions that followed came from the moderator, my fellow candidates, and, finally, members of the audience. I discussed questions of how I, as a white male, could identify with, and represent the interest of, minority and discriminated communities, as well as whether or not I’d ever experienced discrimination myself. I talked about the ‘fierce urgency of now’ in terms of tackling the key issues progressive face, including environmental security, civil and human rights, economic opportunity, and worked to link it all back to our campaign’s underlying message of education as a silver bullet. Indeed, after the debate, many folks expressed satisfaction that I’d relayed so many things effectively back to education. This was the goal in the debate. It must also be a goal of progressive activists.
I closed with a call to action (as political communication Joel Silberman, a friend and mentor, always advises). I told folks to go back to their communities, colleges, families and friends, and listen, learn, inspire, and make change. I stated once more that all of us, despite our different issues and backgrounds share a deep commitment to progressive values, particularly the cause of creating a just and equitable society. I asked for their support and thanked them for their participation in what was a hearty discussion.
Leaving the debate was a rush. I held many discussions with YP4 Fellows who wanted to follow up on the debate’s topics. I chatted with a young lady who said her vote had come down to myself and one other candidate and that, if I could answer her question correctly, she’d have my support. After an extended and honest interaction, she walked away with confidence that I’d serve her well as ambassador. This was a true thrill.
I then debriefed with my campaign team. We went over the highs and lows of the debate and made plans for the rest of the evening. Talking tactics was rad. I felt fully enmeshed in a political contest, and, most importantly, felt totally comfortable in, and excited by, my role as candidate. We had work to do, and we moved quickly to do it.
The next stop, after a brief foray to Burger King for, quixotically, a veggie burger (your guess is as good as mine, though, it was quite tasty), I made my way to the YP4 Fellow’s hotel to attend a dance party. It was great to just let loose with these awesome young people for a while, and, while I discussed the campaign with many folks, we also just had a good time dancing! Indeed, two other candidates in myself had quite the go of it on the dance floor, providing a few memorable pictures for the YP4 Summit photographer!
My team had planned a rally that night in one of the fellow’s hotel rooms, and they were busy handing out flier to it. Around 10:35, I made my way upstairs and, for the next hour and a half, engaged in more wonderful conversations, learning the stories of a student senator from the University of Cincinatti, an inner-city tutor from New York City, who will go on to teach after graduation, a former FLLA fellow who has started a wonderful organization called Hip Hop CAN, the mission of which is to give members of the hip hop community more of a say in political issues. As was the tale of the tape this weekend, I was riveted by these and other individuals’ stories and enjoyed so deeply our time talking. After the rally, and quite near the midnight hour, my team and I again made our way back to the hotel. It had been a long, wonderful day. We were tired but excited but an incredible and successful day on the trail.
Saturday was all about getting out the vote. Polls were to be open from 8-3, and there were a few intermissions between fellows’ sessions when they’d be able to cast their ballots. We worked during all of these, quite frantically I’d say, to ensure that all our supporters made their voice known, as well as talking to undecideds to try to swing them our way. When three o’clock came, all candidates and candidates’ teams took their first deep breath in, well, I don’t know, 45 hours, or so. These types of breaths feel good- very good. We’d run a great campaign. Indeed, we’d run our hearts out, as had each of the other teams. We were anxious for results and, in a few short hours we’d have them,
Initially, an announcement came that, after counting the ballots, results had been unexpectedly close and the possibility of a run-off was being discussed amongst program coordinators. Last year’s election had been lopsided, and, apparently, the notion of what to do in case of a close race had not been decided beforehand. This idea was instantly denounced in my mind and those of my teammates. We wanted to know the results, straight up. A few hours later, during the intermission of our evening’s entertainment, a political comedy show put on by a group called ‘Laughing Liberally’ (hilarious!), Andrew Gillum, one of FLLA’s top coordinators and advisers, called the four candidates to the stage for the announcement. I felt strangely calm as I made my way ahead and joined the other three. The announcement came quickly- boom, not me. Disappointed, I clapped and applauded one of my fellow candidates, Julianna Bradley (a separate blog posting would be necessary to justly convey the dynamism of this special young person), who’d won the contest. We were then joined by all of our fellow fellows for pictures and recognition. I felt proud- proud that my team had run such a good campaign and that all campaigns had made their cases in such a positive, non-divisive way, about which some had worried. I felt honored that my team believed in me so much and worked so tirelessly and passionately on my behalf. I felt excited about my development as a candidate, particularly as regards conveying my ideas through public speaking and relating to voters on a one-to-one level. I felt hopeful for the future, after having learned the stories of well over one hundred fellows and becoming familiar with the incredible work they are doing to make their communities better. I felt blessed to have had the opportunity to meet dozens of new friends, with whom, in future, I look very much forward to staying in touch and working.
After the decision was announced, I joined other fellows, as well as many from last year’s class, for official pictures and a debrief. I was hurting- there’s no doubt. When you give yourself so fully to, and work so hard for, something, and then don’t get it, your heart sinks and your world rocks. Two days after the fact, I can reflect that this is both good and healthy, as well as focus on the myriad positive take-away I, well, take away from this conference. Back at the time, however, this was not easy. To compound matters, Obama had lost, and I, simply, felt shaken. I was ready to get out of there, to go back to the hotel, and then walk just walk the streets for a bit to forget about things. I joined one of teammates and did just that. We shared a silent stroll back to the hotel, not quite wanting to delve into anything ‘campaign’. We changed quickly and parted ways, he going to join college chums, and me to wander the streets of Dupont for a bit before doing the same.
I came to a coffee shop and decided I wanted a paper and discussion. I sat myself down at a corner café run by a delightful Moroccan woman. I was delighted by her charm and quickly decided I’d come to the right place. I opened my Washington Post but didn’t get too far. In addition to the friendly host, I began chatting with a young woman sitting next to me. She had an accent I couldn’t trace and was reading a book on the impact of the media in conveying the image of Islam in the United States- interesting stuff. We chatted about many things, including her and my reasons for being in D.C. I briefed her on the conference. She turned out to be from Nepal and had moved from there to attend Wesleyan College in Georgia. Baffled, I asked how and why one made it all the way from Nepal to Georgia. She told me her story, and I left enchanted. I was already feeling better.
Joining with good friends is nice. I arrived at a bar a few blocks away and came together with several of my best friends from college, whom I’d not seen since graduation and the dawn of my TFA experience. I also came together with the now infamous Lukasz Bugaj, whose diatribe and paper regarding the impending dangers of bird flu leave me shaken to the core and avoiding just about any flying organism I can (again, thanks, Bugaj). We all talked, sharing our experiences since graduation. Everyone, and I mean everyone, is doing well, which brings an indescribable sense of relief and happiness to me. This is a feeling I experienced when I returned to Michigan for winter break and, at a New Year’s party, found high school friends well on their way to good friends. Caring for others is great and knowing they’re well even greater.
After a late night and no small amount of soul searching, I was ready to embrace graduation. Sunday morning came quickly, but I still managed a run, changed quickly, and made my way back to the NEA. It was good to see the fellows’ friendly faced and, upon entering our graduation room, I could tell something special was in store. We received addresses from each of our dear advisors, trainers, and other folks who’ve supported us over the last seven months. I feel an incredible bond to these people and know I’ve entered a family a part of which I will remain forever. I accepted my certificate with pride and felt as though I’d completed my training well.
1 comment:
"I, luckily, obtained a stylish, retro yellow-checkered sports coat to sport during the discussion and proudly headed on state feeling quite classy. Others may have had other thoughts, but I thought it a quality coat."
I can guarantee, without having seen the jacket, that I would have thought otherwise. Next time, remember, what would Kelly think?
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