Nicki's Blog

I returned from 4 days of voter outreach in Las Vegas yesterday in a daze. My voicemail was full—first of well-wishes for my trip, then of consoling messages of support. Strangely, I got home, performed in a dance piece, did some homework, went to sleep, and then woke up to teach statistics. . . I carried on today, almost as normal, but the sickened feeling in my belly and soul won’t let me feel normal. Many things are different after Nov 2nd, and I am fearful about the next four years. Our country is remarkably divided on issues of tremendous importance, and I imagine those differences will only gain saliency as the days pass. I am bracing for the wave that is going to roll over us as the powerful exert their ideas onto our lives and rights.
But those who know me know that I am not one to focus on such dark things, for I’ve found that it is a waste of energy and a distraction from positive potentials. I would be false to deny experiencing the sinking misery, but I would be more false to let it suck me in.
This week, I joined over 1000 other activists, in Las Vegas alone, in one of many rallies in that area, to get out the vote. The energy of the strangers from the west coast all converging with the common goal of progress and empowerment and change, all chanting together, exchanging political shwag, complimenting each other on our contributions to the movement. . . it was incredible. See this link for a photo of me and Ry in line at the staging area—we made the paper! http://www.reviewjournal.com/lvrj_home/2004/Nov-02-Tue-2004/news/25154795.html

We hit the suburbs like an army, bringing information, encouragement, transportation, and potential to the people’s homes. I ran around in a ridiculous voter superhero outfit carried over from Halloween. Children at the door wondered who I was, one family thought that they had won something, and another thought I might be crazy. . . but most of them laughed, most of them remarked at the passion and energy behind our efforts in their neighborhood. Most of them went and voted. Check out this photo of Ry, Richard, and me in LV:
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Jesse drove one woman in labor to the polls so she could vote before going to the hospital. Yes hit the homeless shelter and teen mom centers to facilitate their votes. The beautiful women in my van flirted, cajoled, and compelled the people to the polls. One DV volunteer worked so hard in the hot sun pounding the pavement that he suffered a heart attack. The energy was so strong and the effort so powerful. A movement, a grassroots army of peaceful acts. It was beautiful to watch.

So, actually, it worked. We sought to register those who weren’t and empower the disenfranchised. We sought to gather the energy of those around us and share it with our fellow citizens to teach them about their options, their power, and the need for their involvement. We sought to build community, friendships, and responsibility. And it worked. All of those things have happened. Perhaps it did not lead to the outcome we had anticipated, the outcome we had longed for. Yet, I refuse to allow the past 10 months of work to become a “means to an end” and lose focus because our “end” did not develop. The process, the actions, the enlightenment, the joy, the growth, the pain—it IS what it is all about. I would rather have all that I have gained from the past 10 months with DrivingVotes and have this disappointing ending than trade it for a Kerry victory minus the movement. Perhaps that seems naïve, but I believe that these events have changed me, my country, and the people within it for the better. We have built a new generation of activists. Tomorrow and the next day and the next day, you will feel it.

I was just reading Leighton's incredibly articulate and educated blog, and all I could think about was swaying in the aisles with my arms around my friends singing "Revolution" along with Tracy Chapman at the benefit concert she threw for us this weekend. For me, "revolution" is a word that belongs to the liberals now. Everyone has been freaking out about the polls and the impression that Bush is leading everywhere, and I keep telling them, "You don't realize how many new progressive voters there are out there! The polls don't even consider all of the new voters in their estimates--we are going to nail them with an unexpected avalanche of new progressive votes in November. They won't even see it coming!" Over the past 3 days, the lovely NYTimes has validated this point, arguing about the bias in polling and the upsurge of new voters from "tons of little voter reg projects popping up all over the swing states." Eh hem. . .driving votes, anyone???
And if I ever doubted that this movement had meaning or purpose or value, holding hands with the friends that I drove across the country with, smiling ear to ear with tears streaming down my face, belting out lyrics to songs about new beginnings and empowering ourselves and revolting against hate and tyranny, I looked around me at the intimate Century Ballroom this Saturday night as Tracy Chapman cooly mixed song with activism and realized that little pipe dreams can go a long long way. The mixture of purpose and passion and people is a compelling and contagious one.
One of my friends was visiting that night and got to ask Tracy, "why Driving Votes? Why did you decide to help them?" And even though I was appalled at the bravado of her question, I delighted in Tracy's answer: "Because they were explicitly partisan, and I wanted to work with an intimate group that was reaching out to the underrepresented and was not afraid to speak out against Bush." Lucky us for being so loud and little. Thank you Tracy for believing in us and our cause and celebrating with us this weekend. Thank you for singing songs about Revolutions and then telling the crowd to go register voters with us in the morning. Thank you for your damn fine heart, mind, and voice.

I’m not the same person I was last month. Most people usually aren’t, and to write that feels trite. But last month I contributed to the changing lives of a great deal of people, so it seems my change is exponentially building off of that. . .
Last month, along with another noble soul, I led the DVRV August Caravan across the United States. The entire west to east coast, ocean to ocean. It was a tremendously powerful and ephemeral two weeks in my life. I’ve been told it was powerful in others’ lives as well. I can’t imagine sitting idly by as our nation slips away ever again. I am certain now, knowing firsthand, that we each have incredible power as individuals and collectively can move mountains, even big ugly Texas ones.
I am struck by the lingering memories of the people I registered to vote last month. A Japanese reporter followed me through an impoverished, crime-ridden neighborhood in Columbus, Ohio as I knocked on doors labeled “BEWARE of ferocious dog” and “Trespassers will be shot!” Her presence added a surreal quality to the afternoon, her camera snapping and questions adding depth to the experience. I registered people fixing their car in the street that had been stolen 3 times that year and a 50 year old couple that had never voted before because they never understood how to sign up. I looked ridiculous enough in my ruffled green skirt, yellow DV shirt, and American flag wrist bands that no one bothered me, they figured I must be legitimate or a looney TinkerBelle who made a wrong turn at “The Bottoms.” Residents were suspicious, many were incredulous, but after persistent explanations of the nature of my purpose, many registered to vote. Some even got excited and agreed to put a “remember to vote” sign in their yard—even though they figured it would “get stolen or shot at within a day.” I haven’t been the same since that day.
I haven’t been the same since I bore witness to the phenomenal beauty and power of having more than a dozen friends commit significant portions of their lives to empowering and supporting their fellow citizens. Many of us rarely slept and certainly rarely slept well on that adventurous journey across 3,000 miles and 8 cities in the bumpy at-times-smelly RV. But we loved it. We shared so much joy at the collectiveness and bondedness that comes from a common goal and shared vision and unified passion. We shared the magical sense of change that comes from seeing this country up close, in the little corners of the neighborhoods, local parks, and road stops. We shared the awakening of realizing that this is the kind of thing that every citizen should be doing at some point in her life, to know thyself, thy countrymen, and thy country. We shared beers too. And swimming and dancing. We rapped our way home in a huge group dance through the streets of Pittsburgh after registering voters all night in clubs, and I got to drive. There is no way I am the same person after that.
So many amazing people contributed to our adventure. Certainly the DV folks who make it all happen, but importantly the momentary contributors who shared their homes, their kitchens, their parties, their waffles, their club connections, and their support along the way. I have so much more faith in community, in the capacity for selfless giving, and in the power of friendship than I’ve ever had before. I miss the people and the moments like missing a drug. It was an unparalleled high—completely legal, no residual, and sustaining for weeks.
If you’ve never done anything like this, now is the time to do it. Flights are cheap, shared gas money is too, relative to spending your money away on therapy or alcohol to deal with your apathy about this country. Get out there. Take your friends or realize you will make friends. You’ll never be the same. And then you will understand people who write trite blogs about being changed. Maybe you will start your own website. Maybe you will change the world a bit. Or at least earn a hellova political t-shirt collection.