ONE MORE VIRGINIA CANVAS, ONE TIRED CANVASSER (AGE FOUR) AND ONE SENTIMENTAL LOOK AT WHAT OBAMA, AND THE CAMPAIGN, ARE REALLY ALL ABOUT

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It was a long long Sunday canvassing for Obama, this time in Ashburn, Virginia, and it was also a very exciting one.  It began far from our destination, in a parking lot in Maryland, where we were "briefed" and handed maps of our Virginia destinations.   

Next stop: Virginia field offices.  Once we arrived at ours, in a manufactured "village" of mostly low-rise, not-so-expensive apartment buildings, we were briefed again, presented with the usual impressive packets with maps and voter rolls, and sent on our way.

As on our other sojourns, my friend and I brought along his four-year-old son, who is a rabid Obama fan.  We had 36 apartments on our list – in at least eight different buildings.  The complex, nice but clearly not fancy, had no elevators.  Instead, like an apartment you might rent at the beach, each building offered concrete stairs in an open stairwell, ascending four flights to the top.  No doorbells, just brass knockers or — as we did — you knocked the old fashioned way.   

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It was a lot of steps; I clocked at least two miles on my pedometer.  Leading our way was our four-year-old ambassador, who never flinched at the up-down-up-down-nobody home – maybe an answer – up – down of the day.  It clearly wore him out but boy was it worth it.

I’ve always been sentimental about our country; since I grew up just outside a mill town south of Pittsburgh I’m very aware of multicultural living.  In my class there were Kalcevics and Janczewskis and Brneloviches and Courys and McCurdys and Mortons and Stepanoviches — and more.  But days like today – well – they’re different, mostly because many of the committed voters we met today just got here.  One charming African man, with a wife in African dress, himself in shorts and a tee shirt, just became a citizen and received his voter card on October 12th.  Another, Middle Eastern, immediately declared his preference for Senator Obama and asked where he could get a button (of course we gave him ours.)  A third, whose son was also four, spoke to us as smells of curry and some unfamiliar seasonings drifted out the door; the scent of strange spices was all around. Some residents spoke Spanish, some perfect British English, some less perfect – and less British.  But here they were, in these simple apartments in a massive series of cul-de-sacs, so ready to vote.

When I was a kid, my grandfather talked endlessly to us about how he felt coming here – what it meant to him and why he never wanted to go back to the Old Country – even to visit.  He was a tough old guy – kind of scary actually – but fiercely grateful for what he had found here.  That gratitude, and our own comprehension of our lives as the daughters of a Harvard-trained lawyer, educated on scholarships while his entire family worked to keep him in school; lives that were possible only because our grandparents had had the guts to pick up and leave and our country had offered them, and our father, the privilege of a chance – built an awareness that has never faded.   Today though, it jumped from its quiet residence in the back of my mind to full-on awe.  We are part of something wonderful here.  As Jonathan Curley wrote in a Christian Science Monitor piece with similar sentiments

"I’ve learned that this election is about the heart of America. It’s about the young people who are losing hope and the old people who have been forgotten. It’s about those who have worked all their lives and never fully realized the promise of America, but see that promise for their grandchildren in Barack Obama. The poor see a chance, when they often have few. I saw hope in the eyes and faces in those doorways.

That’s what it is – hope.  And the remarkable privilege of acting on that hope – using the power of American democracy to turn hope into action.  Obama’s slogan "Yes we can!" isn’t just political.  It’s a battle cry, a pledge passed on through generations – this time from my grandfather to the "new folks" living in Ashburn Village.  The day we decide we are no longer obligated to help pass the legacy on will be a very sad day indeed.  That’s why what happens on Tuesday is so important.  Morals, ethics, values, opportunity, education, work, freedom, the pursuit of happiness…  this has always been us.  May it be again this week.

CARE ABOUT 2008? READ THIS BOOK – THE ARGUMENT BY MATT BAI

Matt_baiI have three half-finished posts saved as DRAFT right now but Saturday, all day, I read this book and I want to talk about it.  You need to read it too.  Matt Bai, the very smart political correspondent for the New York Times Magazine, and author of my favorite piece about the 2004 elections, WHO LOST OHIO? writes about the Progressive wing of the Democratic Party in the period after the 2004 election.  He has a great narrative style – it’s like reading a novel.  There are real characters, and intrigues and hubris and everything.

I really care what happens to our country and am so often troubled by the way that those with whom I most agree chose to engage the rest of the nation (Yes Mr. Colbert, the nation.)  There’s so much at stake.  Our choice of things we want to happen — and how we propose and describe them – is critical to whether we earn the right to  make them happen.  Do we spend too much time thinking about the elections themselves– and not enough about the policies to be implemented if we win?  How do we talk to/with our fellow Americans and what do we say?  What do we know about what they want – and do we care enough?

Matt has provocatively portrayed a political dialog that’s doesn’t deal with these questions nearly enough — as well as the "adventure story" of how we got here.  I’m being vague on purpose — you really need to read this yourself.  It’s quick, fun, smart, useful and very important.