Turkey number two

On Thursday I dug into the second turkey - it's Thanksgiving. The first was also at Thanksgiving, in Canada, a month and a half ago, the last time I wrote here. It seems to take a turkey to get me to blog. Well, it is good to pause and give thanks. We are well into the last legs of this fall semester. Thank God for that! We have friends with whom we celebrate this long weekend before the final sprint. This is a break, but not a holiday... graduate student work continues, day to day, until December 18.

One highlight between the two turkeys is the US elections. I won't comment on national politics but will say a thing or two about my brief involvement at the local level. My friend and coursemate's wife was directing communications for a Massachusetts ballot initiative. This is an outstanding feature of American democracy, in the form of an issue, phrased as a question, on which voters cast a yes or no at the polls. If a majority vote yes, the ballot becomes law. Direct legislation by the people. Any person or group can initiate this motion, with a minimum number of signatures to get on the ballot sheet.

I jumped at the opportunity to help in this cause. It's a worthy one, purposing to lay the legal groundwork for public childcare workers to form a union, so that they can bargain for benefits and work conditions specifically suited to their unique job requirements. The state of childcare in Massachusetts is not too admirable.

I didn't do much. One night I went with an excited trio pegging Yes-on-3 banners into the ground around rotaries (roundabouts) in the city of Springfield, the nearest metropolis to Amherst (our definition of city is not finicky).

The memorable and positively bloggable experience was on election day itself, November 7. I took up the job - might have volunteered, but being paid I admit was an inducement - of standing guard outside a polling centre somewhere in western Mass. Actually, the initial job description was more interesting: driving people (esp. elderly, who are among the most committed voters) to cast their votes, poll centre monitoring, other exciting stuff. It turned out we were only required to stand, stand, and stand outside a polling centre with a Yes-on-3 banner and some leaflets, to make one final appeal, from the start to close of voting.

We left at 530am. Adam, my adrenaline-pumped friend arrived at 520, obviously oblivious that he was early. I, less pumped by psyched nonetheless, was actually ready to go. The next guy we picked up was groggy when we arrived, but sentient enough to point out, brother, you're 10 minutes early.

After an hour and a half on the road we arrived at our assignments. I was plonked at ward 8, or 9, in Pittsfield. 720am... voting had started at 7. And would finish at 8. Eight pm. Yes, 13 hours on our feet! I conjured some image of doing that. I mean, it's not difficult to imagine yourself standing and waving. But to fill up that image for 13 hours was a bit harder. I didn't bother. I thought I would meet people, make contact with voters, talk with other canvassers, etc.

Must say I had good company for most of the day. Most of them were supporters of the Democrat candidate for state senate. One guy, Paul, owns the most popular diner that side of Pittsfield, winner of best pizza awards. When I found that out I understood why every other person coming to vote knew him. At first I thought everyone is so polite in this town. Then more and more said, hey Paul!, and I surmised, this town is smaller than it seems. But it's mostly to his credit, he is very personable and jovial, bringing me a sandwich for lunch from his restaurant. And knowing his position in society also put me at ease. See, whenever people passed by, Paul (and his companions) would wave and I of course also waved and smiled, but hoi polloi never waved at me, never even looked at me. It was not the cause I was fronting, or my foreignness, it's the popularity of the man whose restaurant makes the best pizza.

I talked with others, as they came in two hour shifts (a few, including Paul, who did one shift each in the morning and afternoon, would exclaim: "You! You're still here?". "Right til the end"). I spoke with a union leader, two affable town old-timers named Ed and Bruno, groups of mostly Democrats (the area is a blue stronghold) and lone Republicans (who engaged in good-natured banter, nobody got hurt), former town councillor and former mayor. That helped pass the time, though some hours were eternal, especially when I was rather excluded from conversations.

We were spared the full shift, leaving at 730 that night. Twelve hours, nonstop, on my feet, except for a few minutes squatting to vary the scenery. I felt young and vivacious to survive that, though stiff-backed and sore-footed. The relief of sitting in the car was very, very tactile.

Later that night, though, we were disappointed with the results: the ballot was rejected, with 52% voting against. So close.

But worth it.