Ten weeks. It doesn’t even feel like ten weeks. It feels like I’ve been a field organizer my whole life. Every morning, I wake up excited – thrilled to see our volunteers. It is the volunteers that make my 11 hour day go by quickly. Each one is filled with enthusiasm, a quirky personality, and great stories about why they support Roxanne Conlin. I’ve been able to start developing wonderful relationships with each of them. Then there’s the love and hate relationship I have with the VAN. I can assure you, it wasn’t love at first sight – but I am starting to fall in love with the benefits of the VAN.

Within ten weeks, we’ve been able to reach 300 volunteers and each week our volunteers make thousands of calls. There’s still more to accomplish. Thus, I’ve decided to stay till November fighting for Roxanne Conlin, and more importantly for all Progressives.

Since joining Annie’s campaign, I have experienced the best kind of stress. Yes, this is somewhat of an oxymoron, but in any case, it is a true statement. There exists a rather unique, infinitely motivating and energizing source of stress that powers the ten of us field staffers on the campaign – for me, it is the fuel that wakes me up in the morning and makes me think over and over again during the day that I need to be utilizing every single second of every day to help Annie get elected. It causes me to feel a jittery sensation in my stomach at all times, a constant reminder that for once in my life, I am so rooted in a bigger reality than I could ever imagine. I am an organizer on a campaign that is relying on its field strategy to win an extraordinarily tight race in which field truly can make a difference.

It is the best feeling I have ever felt … to feel a sense of purpose in my daily activities, to feel like I have a significant role in the campaign, and above all, to truly understand and believe that every volunteer I am able to connect with can make a difference by reaching out to the individual voters who will carry our campaign past the primary.

Regardless of my frequent heart palpitations and moments of uncertainty and fear, these are a few of the many things that keep me going. The camaraderie between the field staff. The numeric goals I know I have to hit. The occasional (and always surprising) welcoming and engaging voter on the other end of a persuasion call. But most of all, it is the vision that we all share on this campaign: that electing this extremely competent, passionate, and relatable woman is a step to spurring tangible change in Washington.

This vision holds our campaign team together. It inspires us to work together, day in day out, despite our own frustrations and individual roles – it is the best kind of teamwork I have ever witnessed. Forget the cheesiness of using sports metaphors to define the dynamics of political work; I can confirm that the clichéd parallel exists for a reason.

Well folks, this is it. SNAPPAC, the campaign, a wonderful summer in North Carolina’s Triangle … it’s all coming to a neat, bittersweet end. I’ve learned more than I could have ever expected about that grand and all-inclusive beast that is the American political system, and moving forward in a world of non-profits, unions, laborers, social revolutions, and shows of solidarity, that knowledge is invaluable.

I applied for the SNAPPAC fellowship early in the spring because I loved people, and the opportunity to work and play and talk with people all across the state seemed irresistibly glorious. Though there were long nights, early mornings, and a few strained and awkward moments, true to form, I find myself already missing the folks I’ve come to know and love over the summer: those folks with whom I’ve gotten lunch and gotten lost.
I couldn’t begin to describe the one thousand and one lessons SNAPPAC has afforded me. Persistence. Optimism. Preparation. Or how about that semicolons aren’t folksy. Or volunteers don’t like odd flavored pretzels. How about this one: even a US Senate candidate can laugh at ridiculous movies others are too quick to judge. Or that one good person, a gem in and out of the political realm, running for office can inspire laughter, dedication in a way only great people can. I don’t know now any more than I did 10 weeks ago where I’ll “end up” in a few years, once college is over and done with and I am looking square into the face of my uncertain future. But I’ve grown, found friends, and cultivated a deeper respect for the hard and tiring work it takes to make this country—this world—a place of justice and happiness. These were experiences worth having, and lessons well learned.

Out here the days are long, the nights are lonely. I think of you and I’m working on a dream. I don’t think the (paraphrased) Boss was referring to the campaign trail, but he might as well have been. It’s been almost seven weeks of twelve-hour days, of 250-phone-call days, and I’m tired. But I keep working.

I didn’t really know what to write for this blog entry. I’ve never had a blog before and I’m not one for profound revelations about my life and personality and all that boring stuff. So I’m just going to write about yesterday. It started off like a pretty normal day, making phone calls, corralling the interns, trying to get volunteers out to events this weekend. My calls weren’t going that well and I began to get frustrated and even angry. Then, the boss comes in and says we’re staying late to put data into the system so we have up-to-date lists of who’s coming to our events. So the staff stays in the conference room, gorging on pizza and cookies, entering data, for three long hours. When I finally get off, I drive back home to the beautiful little town of Weston. Unfortunately, the storm had ravaged the roads to Weston, leaving downed tree limbs. I get about halfway home and find three police cars blocking the road. I turn around and try a different route, only to find a fire truck and electric company truck impeding the way. Lost somewhere in Westport, I pull out my map and find yet another route. Blocked. I drive through about three towns to find a way to get onto the Merritt and finally make it home, after almost an hour and a half of a half-hour drive.

I don’t really know what this shows about my personality or my experience here, I just think it’s interesting. Eight hours later, I’m back in the office for another twelve-hour day. So I guess I can thank SNAPPAC for teaching me persistence and making studying for finals look easy. Or for giving me a job I enjoy at least enough to come back day after long day. But until my time here is up, until I must return to my studies, I’ll keep coming back. I’ll keep working on the dream of sending a progressive majority to Congress.

The day before I got on a plane to come spend the summer here in Ohio, I realized that this had all been a terrible mistake. I was about to spend ten weeks as a “field organizer,” but didn’t actually know what that meant. And I wasn’t too excited about the part I did understand (that field organizers spend an extraordinary amount of time on the phone).

The day after I got on a plane to come spend the summer here in Ohio, I realized I had nothing to worry about. I learned, and have continued to learn every day since, that field is a science. It is the science that connects everything a campaign does and says and is to the communities that will ultimately decide the election. It is about understanding and engaging with these communities in systematic, measurable ways. It is about numbers and relationships and involves a somewhat extraordinary amount of time on the phone. And most importantly, it is how you win an election.

Every day I have the privilege to work with incredible, brilliant people who are devoting their lives to achieving this goal and with volunteers who give their evenings and weekends to making that possible. It is an honor to get to learn from them and to do so on behalf of a strong, progressive leader like Congresswoman Mary Jo Kilroy. And it is even better to be doing this work in the heart of Ohio in the midst of a historic campaign cycle.

I became a SNAP fellow as a way of trying something different in my summer between college and law school, but I never could have anticipated how much the summer would change how I view organizing, the political process, and what it really means to work for progressive change. I have no doubt that what I have learned here will inform all that I do in the future. I thank SNAP for this incredible opportunity.

So there is this popular game called soccer, and here are the things I know about it: 1) I’m in the minority of progressives in this country that aren’t soccer fans, 2) Podolski was the best looking player on the German team, and 3) much to my country’s dismay, Spain, not the good ol’ U.S of A, won the World Cup. While my understanding of this promising sport is quite obviously limited, watching a few games with my fellow campaigners has given me insight the likes of Franklin Foer, and that is that soccer can serve as a good explanation for a campaign.

In soccer, I see three essential components: the fans, the players, and the game itself. Now before you crazed soccer players and avid ESPN watchers start at me, let me explain myself. The Game is like the campaign. Every few years the previous victor has to go back and face off against old challengers and new faces on a leveled playing field. Sometimes, that previous victor has some significant assets, be it skills, an ingenious coach, or in the realm of campaigns, name recognition and money. It’s an uphill battle, but often times, something surprising happens, conventional wisdom is thrown out the widow, and the underdog gets to the final match up. Enter the Marshall campaign.

Secondly, take a look at any campaign team and you’ll see it’s a lot like a World Cup match. It appears chaotic. People are running all over the place, getting sweaty, tiered, and frustrated. Often times, emotions run high, like when you get that first goal, or run-off victory. Yet, somewhere in the bedazzling mess, an order emerges—a plan, perhaps even … a field plan (pun intended). Eventually, you come to realize that those guys on the ground aren’t rowdy kids running around the schoolyard, but focused and passionate individuals trained to produce victory. We: the field organizers, campaign managers, finance team, and interns, are part of something more than superficial confusion.

I suppose here is where the analogy fails. In soccer, the team wins it. It is the culmination of their skill, their coaching, and their shear dumb luck that grants them bragging rights and the golden idol that is the World Cup. In a campaign, however, it’s the soccer hooligans that make history. While many people don’t care and some are only passionless observers, those crazed, nationalistic wig-wearing few are to note. Their faces aren’t painted with black and blue and yellow, but with a big smile as they make the calls and knock on doors: an emblematic chest traded in for a lapel sticker, and the vuvuzela for a phone. They rally the troops, so to speak, get folks excited, and cheer and cry and carry on up until the very end. They don’t win soccer games, but they do win elections. And it is their zealotry and participation that makes for a dramatic finish. The candidate does his or her job and the field does their job, but it takes that added enthusiasm from the citizenry to finally pull off something remarkable.

The game between Burr and Marshall has started, with November so far yet so close. The stakes are high and the pressure is deafening, but I have faith that Elaine and our team, and our supporters’ grit, determination, and passion for true progress with prove enough to take the election. It’s not a golden soccer ball, but the prize looks awfully good from here…

It’s 8:00 in the morning. 8 a.m. I was just in this office less than ten hours ago. And I will be here until well into the night.

Welcome to the life of a field organizer.

After a bit of scrambling in the beginning of working on the campaign (including getting acquainted with a district I had never been to before), I am finally getting into the groove of things. Whereas I had initially seen phone calling as invasive and bothersome, I now see it as an opportunity to connect with the voter. I am realizing that we are servants of public servants – reaching out to the people to gain support for someone who wants to improve the lives of those in the community. What’s more, it is my opportunity to listen to what the average American feels about today’s most pressing issues: fiscal spending, health care reform, the economy, and issues that pertain to the local community. Through these numerous amounts of dials, I have had some golden conversations.

I have found, however, that weekends are the best part of a campaign. It is the time where all of the planning we do during the week is placed into action. Canvassing was a pleasant surprise (as was the dog that scared me off the block). While being in an office is safe and routine, canvassing gives me the campaigning experience the edge I am craving by week’s end. Weekends are also the times where I can be with Jim himself, and stand proudly by him as his foot-soldier in this world of politics.

When you believe in your candidate, and you know that he or she is working as hard as you are, it makes staying in the office 10, 12, even 14 hours a day so much more rewarding. When you try to push for support on their behalf all week, and then see how much they care for their community by week’s end, it makes the overall experience of campaigning unforgettable. The early morning meetings, the late evening talks, the parades, the phone calling, the volunteer recruitment… they are all part of this world I have immersed myself in. True, I may not belong to the Fourth District of Connecticut – I am not quite sure where I really belong – but for the time being I am a part of this community. I am adopting myself to live in an area and to work for someone who I trust can help improve the lives of its people. And that anonymity is the most rewarding part of all.

What stands out for me most about my first month on the David Segal campaign is the profound sense of acceleration. When I first arrived in Providence, the field office was a semi-furnished ground floor apartment that was also serving as HQ and was barely open to the public or to volunteers. Early in the first week it was all-hands-on-deck, with staff helping out with whatever basic tasks needed to get done. I didn’t mind doing data entry, when other field staff were finding office furniture on Craig’s List and hauling it back, and when the campaign manager was on the phone ordering a printer/copier and David Segal for Congress business cards. The distance covered between then and now is dramatic: at present, the field staff are conducting extensive outreach and volunteer recruitment through progressive networks, and each week dozens of volunteers are helping us to knock on hundreds of doors and make thousands of phone calls.

Every day more things fall into place and more momentum builds. As part of putting together a powerful team, I and other field staff have gotten lots of training—in effective use of the amazing and varied tools of the VoteBuilder database, in event staffing and candidate staffing, and in many specific skills of field organizing, voter contact, and volunteer recruitment. Meanwhile, I’m learning how much organization goes into organizing. What I mean by that is that effective organizing requires more than just working together toward a shared goal; it requires structure, planning, and specialization. As our own roles are becoming more specific and well-defined, I’m getting a sense of how a well-led team makes careful use of its members’ pre-existing capabilities and natural strengths, uses outside resources to fill in gaps, and makes sure no piece of the puzzle is left out. We are rolling forward faster and faster, with our pools of volunteers and individual small donors growing ever larger, and we are shaping the structure of this vast collaborative effort as we go. We are working very long hours—60 or 70 per week—but we are rapidly building a well-oiled, well-organized, and potent field operation where just a short time ago there was nothing but a handful of people and some foldable chairs and tables.

According to conventional wisdom, there’s no place like Iowa to get field experience. And that conventional wisdom has definitely proven right so far – Elaine and I are gaining some amazing experience here, and shouldering real responsibility. The two of us are heading up the Conlin campaign’s field operation in the Des Moines metro area, as well playing a part in setting up field offices in other locations around the state.

I went directly from SNAP training to Des Moines at the beginning of this month, and was on the ground for most of the GOTV operation for the primary. Since our primary was on June 8, “Pretty Good Tuesday,” most of Roxanne’s staff (including me) spent Monday and Tuesday of that week making turnout calls. Over those two days, I spent almost 20 hours on call time – making well over 600 dials. Fortunately, I managed not to lose my voice, and was still able to cheer for Roxanne at the victory party: we won with 78 percent of the vote, and a 66-point margin!

After the primary, we had a few lower-key days moving our office from the pre-primary location in downtown Des Moines to the Iowa Democratic Party (IDP)’s coordinated campaign. These days included my first weekend in Iowa, which started with the IDP’s annual Hall of Fame dinner Friday, continued with the annual state party convention on Saturday, and finished with a bang at the Capital City Pride parade on Sunday afternoon. All three were great events, but “Hall of Fame” was especially memorable. Sen. Tom Harkin (D-IA) was keynote speaker at this dinner, which honored his wife Ruth and longtime staffer Dianne Liepa.

Sen. Harkin spoke at length about how Ruth and Dianne – and Roxanne – had begun their careers at a time when women were not welcome in the political world. Being present as they were honored that evening gave me a better sense of how individual women had lived the gains of the women’s movement over the last fifty years, but also reminded me of the challenges which women in public service still face. Sen. Amy Klobuchar (D-MN), who gave the keynote address at Saturday’s state party convention, made me think more about this contrast. Since Sen. Klobuchar is the first elected female senator from Minnesota, her endorsement of Roxanne’s candidacy and remarks on her achievements in private and public life had a special significance. The senator also found time to greet staff from Iowa’s statewide Democratic campaigns before the keynote; I was excited and honored both to meet this remarkable woman and to hear her address from the floor.

The Conlin staff finished moving into our new space at the IDP’s headquarters this Monday, also the day when Elaine (who had just finished her final exams at school) arrived in Iowa. We hit the ground running on Tuesday, and have been working smooth and steady since then. As last week, this weekend promises to provide a change from the ordinary Sunday-Thursday rhythm of recruiting, training and managing volunteers. Saturday morning will see us marching with Rep. Leonard Boswell (D-IA-3) in a parade just north of Des Moines, and we’ll get a well-earned break Sunday morning. But for me, Sunday may not be a break from organizing – last weekend, I ran into one Conlin volunteer and recruited another at Des Moines Friends House!

I never really enjoyed phone calls. I remember the first time I walked into a campaign office and they told me to start phonebanking; I was absolutely petrified! So I never would have guessed I would spend this summer working in southwestern Connecticut, organizing the great communities in this area. I never thought I would spend this summer making phone calls, going door-to-door and meeting volunteers and voters all day long. I never thought I would be able to approach people I have never met and ask them for whom they will vote or to spend their hard-earned time volunteering for Jim Himes.

Thanks to Students for a New American Politics, however, that is exactly what I am doing. I was still petrified walking into the office the first time. What if they expect me to make phone calls? I wondered nervously. What if they want me to talk to people? But I overcame that fear quickly; I had to if I was to continue as a Field Organizer. After just a few short weeks working on the campaign, I now relish the opportunity to talk to voters, to discover their thoughts about the state of Connecticut and maybe even to convince them that Jim Himes is the right choice for the fourth district.

While opening up to the citizens of Fairfield and New Haven Counties and learning about them, I have also seen the effect one person can have on our politics. I have already talked to thousands of voters, people whose opinions might not have been heard if SNAP PAC had not given me this opportunity. I have coordinated a number of phonebanks for volunteers, allowing our message to reach even more voters and engaging even more people with our campaign. Most importantly, I have formed close working relationships with the other members of our field and political staff, enabling us to form a close-knit team that can effectively inform voters from Greenwich to Bridgeport of what Representative Himes has accomplished and what he will accomplish.

Without the generous support of SNAP PAC, I might still be afraid to pick up the phone, afraid to engage with someone about the issues that affect us all, afraid to be truly involved in our political process. More importantly, I would not have been able to work for this great congressman and help ensure that the change we voted for in 2008 continues through 2010, help ensure that the Connecticut 4this still represented by a brave, thoughtful, independent, progressive leader, help ensure that our country keeps improving and does not fall back into a reactionary backslide. For this noble goal, I will keep calling. In fact, it’s almost dinnertime . . . back to the phones . . .