I was very nervous when I got there, I’d never done this before, and I was by myself. I saw a young black woman holding a sign that said Women for Obama, and set myself up nearby. We started out by largely ignoring each other, just smiling at people, encouraging them to vote and handing out fliers.
New York City is not normally an unfriendly place, but it’s not exactly an open arms sort of place. Not usually. I smiled so much that I’m still doing it today; it’s literally frozen on my face. Everyone smiled at me, people waved, I felt like a part of something. I had thought that I would learn what it is like for the poor guys handing out the discount fliers outside the local hair cutting place, invisible at best, often glared at. I didn’t, for a person encouraging people to vote and handing out Hillary fliers, New York is a welcoming place.
Shortly after I got there, an older black woman told the Obama supporter that there was "no way they’d let a black man be president in this country." I surprised the Obama supporter by joining her in explaining to this woman that she was wrong. But she was. There are valid reasons to prefer Hillary, but that’s not one of them. He is absolutely a viable candidate.
After that we were fairly friendly, chatting about the weather in between talking to people. She was bothered by the cold a lot more than I was. She was less surprised when I helped her try (and fail) to explain to a woman that Obama was not a Muslim. I encountered this lie several times and I always tried to fight it. It seemed to be very popular with the few self-identified Republicans that I met.
My morning was filled with characters. First was a middle aged black man who came up to me and said "She’s my girl, Hillary all the way!" I was surprised when another woman yelled at him "You can’t support the Clintons, they’re racist!" He looked at her with real shock, and then he smiled at her and told us the following story. He left soon after, and I wish I’d gotten more details from him.
"When I was shot, he came and spoke to me, he talked to me for an hour. And then she came, and she spoke to me. When he came to Harlem I made him a big banner that said ‘Welcome to Harlem, Mr. President!’ He is no racist, and neither is she!"
The earnest passion with which he spoke was very powerful, he convinced that woman, and he moved me. It only occurred to me after he left to ask him how he got shot, and I wish I knew.
One old man stopped in response to my call of "Don’t forget to vote!" Smiled at me and said, "I did already." Then he paused and said "As Red Skelton would say ‘I dood it!’" Who he voted for was immaterial, he was a happy little old man, and I think it just made him happy to quote Red Skelton at me.
I was amazed at the passion I encountered for her. And my secular self was a little put off by how religious some of it seemed. It was touching, and completely alien to my world view.
One side of my fliers was a silvery photo of Hillary Clinton on a black background, on the other side it named her pledged delegates. A middle-aged Hispanic woman took her flier, looked at the picture, kissed the photo of Hillary, smiled at me, and went off to vote. Then another one did it. I actually lost count of how many Hispanic women did this. One very old woman, who spoke no English gave me the most exultant smile, pointed at the photo of Hillary, and then at her heart. Then she pointed up at the sky, smiled even more broadly, and pointed back at Hillary. I think I know what she was trying to tell me.
A young Haitian man told me "Hillary will be president. If she loses the vote, God will make her president." I told him that I’d prefer to see her win through the electoral process. He smiled and went off to vote.
There was a difference in tone between people who favored Hillary and people who favored Obama. Many Obama supporters would chant "Obama!" as they walked past the Obama boosters. Old white men would walk quickly past them and then wink at me. I know I’m an attractive man, but even in NY they can’t all have been gay. No, they were telling me they were for Hillary, but they weren’t comfortable being showy about it. Older white women would smile at me and nod, some would lean in and whisper, "she’s the one!" as they walked past me. A few women stopped and thanked me emotionally for supporting Hillary. And I did get a lot of surprised looks. I’m a young guy, and I think a lot of people assumed I was for Obama until they looked at the flier I was offering them. In New York City at least, they were always happy to be wrong.
One of the most beautiful things I saw, at least 15 parents, some supporting Hillary, others Obama, took their small child with them to pull the levers. One little girl dragged her father over to both myself, and the Obama supporter in turn, so that she could read our candidates names out loud to him before going in to vote. It was adorable. A little boy with bright red hair came up to me with his mom and said in a clear strong voice "I voted for Hillary!" I thanked him and gave him a flier. It was at that point that I resolved to get myself some stickers for the afternoon session.
One young mother came up to me crying, and grinning. She told me that she was crying because she had been so moved when she pulled the lever for Hillary. She hugged me and went off.
And that was my morning.
I went to lunch with my parents, letting the Clinton campaign save it’s free lunches for other volunteers. When I came back I was sent to a subway stop on Broadway.
It’s a completely different world. In the morning, near a polling station, everyone is on their way to vote, or just voting, or voted two hours ago in New Jersey. On Broadway, they were going to a late lunch, or a meeting or just on errands, and they didn’t’ want to stop and chat. There were three Obama supporters moving about up and down the block, and there was me, with my Hillary poster, a pocket full of stickers, and a bag full of fliers.
I started handing them out, and a little while later a woman came up to me with a Hillary sticker on her shirt, and a small handful of fliers. She smiled at me and told me she had been there for three hours already and was glad for the help. I told her I was glad to see her, and surprised, since they’d sent me here thinking the area wasn’t covered. It turns out no one sent her. She had taken a bunch of fliers from someone somewhere else, and when she saw the Obama supporters by the subway, she decided to stop and represent Hillary. I gave her some more of my stickers and a lot more fliers, and we talked to people and handed them out. She spoke fluent Spanish, and I never envied someone the language more than I did yesterday. She would call out to people in Spanish as they passed us, and they would stop and chat with her, so excited. She was a machine. She gave out stickers to kids, and fliers to everyone. A little girl wanted a sticker after she ran out, so she pulled the sticker off of her shirt and put it on the little girl, who danced happily back to her stroller. It was inspiring. Finally she told me she had to go, as she hadn’t finished her errands, and her bad knee was bothering her in the cold. I sent her over to the local Hillary HQ to get a free cup of coffee, and she wished me luck.
I gave out stickers like mad. I think campaigns should use more stickers, and fewer fliers. I knew my market for the stickers. People who walked past me and gave me a shy smile. I would call out to them, "Don’t you want a sticker!" inevitably they did. Others would just come up to me and ask if I had any, very happy to get them. Eventually I gave two excited guys my age the last two stickers off of my bag. As I was doing this, another guy came up to me and said "Hey, I want one too." I thought I was all out, then I remembered that one of the Hillary organizers had jokingly put one on my back, as my ‘bumper sticker." Since New Yorkers don’t drive, we have to wear our stickers on our backs, she’d said. I turned around and let him have that one, he peeled it off my back and stuck it proudly on his jacket.
Later. A loud voice behind me said something unintelligible, I turned around, almost in to the fist of a black man who was at least a foot and a half taller than me. He wasn’t punching me, he was giving me a pound (bumping fists) for Hillary. "She’s my girl!" He boomed out.
"She’s my girl!" Was repeated a lot, it was the most universal thing I heard from people, and didn’t have a demographic. It came in a thousand tones of voice, quiet and loud, simple statement, and exultant cry, and every possible stage in between. The next most common was "I already voted... for her!"
I had been told at 5:30 or so to go to 72nd and Broadway, where there would be a larger gathering, including Rob Reiner encouraging people to vote for Hillary, so I went. I wasn’t star struck, it would take a Carl Reiner for that (I may be young, but I know my classic comedy).
There were a lot of Hillary supporters out there, and very few for Obama (I gathered from some passerby responses, that this was surprising). But there was a core group there for him. I was talking to one of them, a really nice woman who was there with her husband, when a woman started cursing at us. At first, we both thought the person was reacting to one of our candidate signs, but we quickly realized that it was in response to both signs. She called us and our candidates all sorts of horrible things, and told us that if we had brains we would vote for Ron Paul. Then she stormed off.
The Obama woman and I were a little stunned. Then she told me that she’d heard from other Obama supporters that this had happened to them too, I checked with some of the other Hillary supporters, it seems to have been a universal experience for Democrats with signs on Tuesday. We had a good laugh about it.
The Obama supporters were great, and I talked to them a few times, we all agreed that the important thing was getting a Democrat elected. And there was some light-hearted taunting as one side or another got good news from the exit polls. By now there was a more official Obama presence, and they’d organized a little cheering section standing on some benches. They were quickly drowned out by the Hillary supporters, and I think someone called for back up.
About an hour later, we heard a marching chant of "Yes We Can!" approaching us, and a small army of college girls from Columbia came around the corner, coming to the aid of their beleaguered colleagues. I don’t care who you support, to see that many people out in force for a democrat is heartening. I spoke to these girls later, like me this was their first time doing this, and like me, they were hooked. We all agreed that we were coming back for the National, whoever the nominee was.
I should add, that while there were a lot of them, and they were loud, they did not manage to outnumber the Clinton supporters. Not for quite some time.
At about 8pm, the specific Clinton event in support of Rob Reiner and some NYC political figures ended. Most of the Clinton supporters went off to go to a polling party, or get in out of the cold and rest their vocal chords; others went to fill gaps in other areas. Many of the Obama supporters left too. Not the Columbia girls, they stayed, and I stayed. I wasn’t about to leave this area without a Clinton sign!
It was a hilarious sight. If you know the 72nd street station, which is also, very secretly known as Verdi Square (because it’s a square, and more of one than Times Square, after some recent refurbishment and expansion), then you know that there is a path, with park benches lining each side, leading to the train station. The Obama supporters lined each side, and chanted back and forth at each other. At the end of this column of Obama, just before you get to the subway, I stood with my lone Hillary sign. Three high school boys joined the Columbia girls, borrowing some of their Obama signs, but were so amused by my solitary stance that they started chanting for Hillary in response to the Obama cheers. It was all very confusing and enthusiastic, and a lot of fun. As the polls closed, we all shook hands, congratulated each other on our hard work, and went home.
I know that I will have to do it again. It was an amazing experience. I encourage the rest of you to volunteer too. There is literally nothing like it.
