An early riser I am not, but I awakened at 4:30 a.m. Tuesday. It was Illinois primary election day and I had signed up for the early shift at the polls with the independent political organization where I’m a member.
For a couple of months, I had been skimming and filing away emails from the organization with canvassing opportunities for its endorsed candidates. I had already knocked on doors and collected signatures for two candidates one Saturday this winter. I requested my ballot by mail and cast it early. My housemates and I put signs in our windows for the candidate in a contested race. It felt like enough, until her main opponent received a large influx of cash. He and his allies started sending flyers in the mail, many of them with misleading information.
I told myself that if she lost the race and I hadn’t done more, I’d regret it. I pulled out one of those archived emails with a link to R.S.V.P. to volunteer. On election day, I asked to be placed at the nearest voting site, because I wanted to be able to introduce myself with, “Hi, I’m Celeste, and I’m your neighbor.”
My first task was one that I had done before: poll watching to see when the doors opened and that there was no one engaged in voter intimidation. It’s an essential activity for any democracy, and I don’t take it for granted that everything was peaceful and smooth. This took place as the polarized Supreme Court decision overturning Roe v. Wade was still fresh.
For three hours, I handed out literature and chatted with voters. (Unless they didn’t want to talk to me, which I respected.) People told me two-to-one that they supported the candidate I was promoting.
Still, I was concerned. I reckoned with the possibility that she could lose. I had dealt with losses for local candidates before, but I hadn’t done anything beyond attending a few events where they spoke and voting for them.
Getting more involved politically can lead to feeling the successes and failures deeply. This week I reminded myself that I am just one person. I thought about signing up for an additional volunteer shift until I snapped back to realizing that three more hours of my time was highly unlikely to make the difference. It’s too easy to get caught in overextending oneself.
I sought to deepen my commitment without pretensions about my importance or that of any one political leader. I am enthusiastic about what this candidate could do in Congress. She is prioritizing policies that are greatly needed. And it’s fabulous to see a woman the same age as me running with the slogan “Rooted and Ready.” But she’s ultimately not able to change everything that is crying out for change. We can each do our part.
By the time the polls closed, it was clear that she won. And not narrowly, but with a 40-point spread: 65.6 to 23.9 percent. With the political inclinations in our district, it’s expected that she will also win in the general election in November.
This victory is cause for celebration. That, too, goes beyond any one of us. In movements we share the joy of successes and the pain of failures. The struggle continues.
Gathered and Scattered Update
Sam Gilliam, the artist whose brightly colored house on the next block over from my family home was a source of delight in my childhood, died this week. He was part of making our neighborhood what it was, a vibrant urban community that was home to artists, activists, and faith communities such as the one I’m writing about, the Community of Christ. The Washington Post wrote about Gilliam’s presence in the neighborhood: “For many years, he lived in a Mount Pleasant rowhouse whose exterior was an ever-changing advertisement for its owner’s line of work. The bright blue porch might be complemented by a purple fence, a red front door and yellow window trim. The paint-spattered floors were artworks in themselves.”
Reading and listening
A few selections from the eclectic mix of articles I’ve enjoyed lately:
“Can Chile’s Young President Reimagine the Latin American Left?” by Jon Lee Anderson, New Yorker, June 13, 2022 issue
Gabriel Boric promises sweeping social change. In a nation of duelling political extremes, he’ll need to sell his vision not just to his opponents but also to his allies.
“Three generations — make it four! — under one roof,” by Rachel Eash-Scott, Anabaptist World, June 23, 2022
A family found joy in nonconforming freely
“The spirituality of slow fashion,” by Dana Allen Walsh, Christian Century, June 24, 2022
I have found joy reusing, recycling, and repairing clothing.
“My Kids Forced Me To Embrace Therapy,” by Lydia Kiesling, Romper, May 31, 2022.
For a long time I thought my low-level mental unwellness might just be an acceptable element of my personality.
In between my own therapy sessions, I frequently listen to Kesha’s “Learn to Let Go.”