By Hasan Kwame Jeffries, author of Bloody Lowndes: Civil Rights and Black Power in Alabama’s Black Belt, forthcoming from NYU Press in 2009.
My wife and I were tired. We’re both African American and had spent the entire day in one of the poorest white neighborhoods in Columbus, Ohio knocking mostly on the doors of young people who were registered Democrats but who had never voted before. “It’s Election Day,” we told these statistically unlikely voters, “and Barack Obama needs your support.” A handful of the people we encountered said that they had already voted, and a few said that they would do so later in the day, but most simply brushed us off. “How’s it looking out there?” asked the local Obama campaign manager when we returned to the office. “Hard to say,” I responded flatly.
As we submitted our canvassing materials, the office manager asked if we could pick up a couple who needed a ride to the polls. My wife and I glanced at each other hesitatingly. Sensing that we were feeling too exhausted to do it, the manager said, “They’re not too far from here and there’s no one else available.” “Might as well,” said my wife. “Why not,” I added grudgingly.
A half dozen people, all white, and most in their twenties, were milling about outside of the house when we pulled up. “We’re here to pick up some folk who want to vote,” I said half-heartedly from driver’s side window. “That’s us,” said a young white woman, who gave the newborn she was holding in her arms to the baby’s grandmother. “Hop in,” I replied, “and don’t forget your IDs.” As the pair got in, the grandmother said to me, “This is Amber. She wants to vote too. She’s a little slow and will need some help, but she knows who she wants to vote for. She knows the ballot issues too. Here’s her ID. You better take it. She tends to lose things.” Amber, who looked to be in her mid-twenties, stood quietly behind her, expressionless. “No problem,” I said.
As we drove to the polling place, the young woman who had been holding the baby said that she had wanted to vote for John Kerry in 2004, but had never got around to it. “Me too,” said her husband. In fact, he said, they had never voted before. Amber was quiet.
When we arrived, I escorted the trio inside. An election official quickly came up to me and asked that I remove my Obama button. Without giving the request a second thought, I removed the button and slipped it into my pocket. I pointed to the table where the couple had to sign in, then turned to Amber and motioned for her to follow me. “This is Amber,” I said to one of the poll workers as I handed her Amber’s state issued ID. “She needs some assistance voting, but she knows who she wants to for.” Amber was quiet. The clerk stared at us quizzically, but looked up Amber’s name anyway. “The addresses don’t match,” the clerk said after a moment. “Two of the street numbers are wrong.” Before I could respond, Amber spoke up. “This is where I live,” she said pointing to her ID. The clerk looked at Amber, and then at me. I had nothing to add. “Okay,” said the clerk after a short pause. “She needs to fill out a change of address form.” When she handed Amber the form, the young woman stared at it blankly. “You have to fill this out before you can vote,” I said. Amber picked up a pen and then waited for me to tell her where to put the required information. She followed my instructions exactly, but hesitated when she had to write the county in which she lived. “This is Franklin County,” I said. “How do you spell Franklin,” she replied.
After Amber completed the form and signed in, another election official directed us to a touch screen voting machine. The official rattled off a set of instructions and then asked Amber if she understood. Amber nodded perfunctorily. As the official walked away, Amber turned to me and asked, “All I have to do is touch the screen?” “Yep,” I replied. Amber smiled.
The first screen that appeared listed the names of the presidential candidates. It was at that moment that I realized that I had no idea who Amber actually supported for president. I looked at her as she studied the screen intently trying to figure out what to do. “There is where you vote for president,” I said. Amber replied excitedly, “I want to vote for Barack Obama.” Her burst of enthusiasm caught me by surprise. “Touch there,” I said, and she cast her ballot for Obama. The next screen listed a multitude of candidates for lesser offices. I asked Amber who she wanted to vote for in every one of these contests, and each time she said matter-of-factly, “I only want to vote for president.” So we moved on. When the first ballot issue appeared – a proposal for a school levy – I read the synopsis to her. When I finished, I wasn’t sure if she understood what I had been saying, but she responded immediately, “We need better schools. I want to vote yes.” After I read the proposal for a levy to improve wastewater treatment, she said, “We need clean water. I want to vote yes.” And on the most controversial issue on this year’s Ohio ballot – a constitutional amendment to allow a casino to be constructed outside of Cincinnati, she said, “We don’t need a casino. I want to vote no.” In profoundly simple ways, Amber had a fundamental grasp of these issues.
As we walked back to the car, I asked Amber if this was her first time voting. “Yes,” she said smiling. “How was it?” I asked. Her grin grew wider. “Easy,” she said, “I knew I could do it when the lady said all I had to do was touch the screen.” Then her infectious smile vanished. She looked lost her thoughts, but then she turned to me and said, “I hope Obama can do what my brother says.” After a moment’s pause, she added, “I hope he can change the world.”
Barack Obama won yesterday not because he transcended race and class, but because his message transcended race and class. He, of course, is not the first African American to present a universalist message. Throughout American history, African Americans have framed their struggle for basic civil and human rights, or what I call freedom rights, in universal terms. During the civil rights movement, for example, they fought for the vote in order to have a say in the decisions that affected their lives. African Americans wanted to participate as equal partners in American society in order to make life better for everyone, not just for African Americans. The universal nature of the African American freedom struggle, however, went unappreciated by most white Americans. Yesterday, however, proved that this is no longer the case. More than any other time in American history, African Americans and white Americans are on the same page. We share a common hope that President Obama can change the world.
Hassan, great piece, I was moved and touched. Thanks for sharing.
Hasan,
I got a chill as I was reading the article. I am still on a cloud in some ways as a result of what occured on November 4th. I sense that I will never grow tired of hearing stories like these for many years to come. A new kind of history is being written.
I am proud of you but not surprised. It was in those weekly meetings in a classroom at Midwood High School that we decided we had to do our part to make this world and most importantly, our own country, a better place.
Much Respect,
Tamar
Dear Hasan,
Thanks to you and your wife for helping bring “Ohio home” and sharing your experience. It was hard to live in a state that wasn’t “in play”. Maybe someday.
Meanwhile we are all smiling and looking forward with hope.
Patty
Hasan, thank you so much for coming to my show. It was amazing to be performing just minutes after Joe Biden spoke at Ohio State University’s Newark Campus. To see you there, smiling, with Rashida, was the icing on the cake.
And now you’ve blessed me with this wonderful essay. I would cry if I weren’t blinking so slow from being so tired. This article woke me up—in more ways than one. Thank you so much and I’m sharing it on Facebook, otherwise known as putting you on blast! LOL
I love it!
Many people had such a busy day. On Tuesday, I worked for the AFL-CIO Election Protection Program directing the command center for 6 Ohio State University polling locations. It was also a busy day, but much easier than 2004 when all HELL broke loose.
My grandmother, who had never been involved in elections/politics before, allowed the Obama campaign to use her home as a staging location. She excitedly shared her experience serving food to volunteers, entertaining local candidate and putting together packets for the canvassers.
There are so many stories and so much each of us have done to make Obama’s presidency a reality. My friends and I have been talking about developing a collection of people’s election day stories. Personally, I just love hearing all of them, including yours…
Hasan…even though I know you personally, I am saying this not because of that fact. Your deed in helping this trio on election day was tremendous.
At the moment Amber was about to vote for the president, you could have put in your own views, but your integrity did not allow you to and it still came out in the end that Amber voted the same you and I did…for President-Elect Barack Obama.
When people say, “What is America all about?”, you gave them the answer that day, which is helping fellow Americans express their rights and freedoms in a way that allows them to be free…free from persuasion…free from hate based on race, religion or status…that is what America is all about.
I can’t wait to read a copy of your new book, because if this article is any indication of how well you write, it should be a great read!
Keep it up my brother!
Tell the Mrs. that Angela and I wish you both the best and that I’m sure we will see you all again soon!
fantastic post … quite profound