You Can’t Be Serious(59)



Tip #2: Use the Convenience Store Microwave. Let’s hypothetically say that after a few sensible beers (and less-sensible shots) with your new campaign coworkers, you get the munchies and buy a delicious refrigerated burrito from the Kum & Go convenience store you guys drunkenly stumbled into. You get back to your room also holding a bag full of lottery tickets and a mesh camo hunting cap with a bright yellow cartoon ear of corn on it that you also drunkenly bought because you thought, Oh shit, this hat is tite as hell! and suddenly remember, Not only do I not have a mini fridge, I don’t even have a microwave! You’ll end up turning the thermostat to its highest setting, and you’ll place the burrito on top of the heater. This is just sad, you drunk ass. The heater will NOT successfully cook it. You will slowly peel off layers of clothing and end up sweating in your boxers for thirty minutes before realizing the inside of the burrito is still ice-cold. As you attempt to unwrap the cold burrito to see whether any of it can be salvaged, it will spill all over the carpet and you’ll spend fifteen minutes picking rice out of your belly button. You will also briefly consider ironing the burrito before talking yourself out of it, “because it’s not a panini.” You’ll fall asleep hungry. Also, you won’t win the lottery. The hat is really cool though. Use the microwave at the Kum & Go.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN RESPECT, EMPOWER, INCLUDE

(The Underdog, Part Two)




Respect, Empower, Include. Scrawled with markers and paint on butcher paper by our young staff, this phrase was found on banners in each Obama field office. It was a mantra of Paul Tewes, intended to remind each of us of our mission: Respectfully talk with everyone, whatever their political views or affiliation. Empower people to caucus and vote for the candidate of their choice. Include as many people as possible in our movement for change—there is room for everyone. We can’t win if we aren’t in this together.

With a defined role on the campaign, the depth of my duties increased. One of the people I reported to was Obama’s Iowa youth vote director, Andrea C. Stevens, and among some of my new tasks was working with a group of lawyers on issues related to voting rights. While we were spending considerable time and resources educating young people on their right to vote and caucus, other campaigns were trying to persuade them to stay home during the primary.

My first experience with this was at Grinnell College, a beautiful campus about an hour east of Des Moines. I was clad in my Obama T-shirt, canvassing with a group of students, when a young woman jogging by yelled, “I love Obama! I hope he wins! Wish I was allowed to vote!”

Her parents don’t let her vote?

Being the athletic specimen that I am, I jogged after her to find out what was up. “I’m not allowed to vote in Iowa because I grew up in Colorado,” she explained.

“Wait a second.” I shot back. “The law says that if you’re a student in Iowa, you can caucus and vote in Iowa.” She slowed her pace and came to a stop as I doubled down. “Who told you that you can’t vote here?”



* * *



A short break to introduce voter suppression. Have you ever wondered why Election Day is on a Tuesday? (If yes, keep reading. If no, also keep reading.) Election Day is on a Tuesday because in 1845, Congress decided we needed to come up with a standard day that met the needs of the voting populace—aka rich white dudes, as they didn’t allow anyone else to vote back then. You’d think that a weekend day like Sunday would make the most sense for the rich white dudes because it was a day off, right?

Ultimately, Congress decided people couldn’t vote on Sundays, since it was the Sabbath. (My bad, God decided that we couldn’t vote on a Sunday.) Monday couldn’t be Election Day either, because in 1845 the polls were located in the county seat; in order to get there by Monday, you’d have to start riding your horse and buggy the day before—but the day before Monday is what? Sunday! And we already know God decided we can’t do anything on Sunday. So, this ruled out Saturday (since you might have to ride the horse and buggy home on Sunday), Sunday, and Monday.

How about Tuesday? Tuesday seemed to work well so they said, Let’s put a pin in that. Would Wednesday work too? Nah, Wednesday was a no-go because it was market day for farmers.

Sooooo, Tuesday it was! You could ride your horse and buggy to the polls in the county seat on Monday, vote on Tuesday, and make it back home for market day on Wednesday. This, in a nutshell, is how Tuesday became Election Day. In 1845.

Also in 1845? There was no electricity. No antibiotics. Slavery existed. Life expectancy was thirty-seven. Did I mention only rich white dudes were legally allowed to vote? It wasn’t until 1870—twenty-five years later—that the Fifteenth Amendment technically prevented states from denying the right to vote based on “race, color, or previous condition of servitude.”

Women couldn’t vote until 1920, though. And as you surely know because you remember your history, most Black folks couldn’t really vote until the Voting Rights Act was passed in 1965. That’s one hundred and twenty years after Tuesday was declared Election Day because of God and horses and buggies and farmers. During those one hundred and twenty years, a whole lot of nefarious stuff went on. (As a brief refresher, google Jim Crow, the poll tax, and voting literacy tests.) In 2013 there was a whole bunch of extra bullshit with regard to a section of the Voting Rights Act in the Supreme Court, which is a separate story that you should also look up.

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