the life of a canvass director

I wish I had both the time and a computer to blog on more regularly.  I am staying in the home of two Quakers in York, Pennsylvania while assistant directing in a voter registration canvass office.  We are only being paid to register black people, so I have become a strange kind of racial profiler.  Anytime I see a black person, on reflex I think “I wonder if they’re registered.”  York Pennsylvania has it’s share, but is not exactly swimming in diversity.  This makes our job a challenge, especially with Wal*Mart’s strict no soliciting policy. Our canvassers literally hide behind cars in the parking lot to not be caught.

This morning, one of our staff who couldn’t come in for the longest time because his dog had bitten his face had to call out because yesterday he was RUN OVER BY A CAR.  I saw him riding in the car with his fiancee just this afternoon, and he is in full leg casts.  Yet is still bizarrely cheerful and talkative.  I would not be cheerful if I had multiple children I had hoped to support on a canvasser’s salary only to be mowed down in an alley by fat people.

He specifically mentioned this fact on the phone, that it was a small car driven by fat people, with therefore little ground clearance, leading to additional injury.

People call me “baby” more often than I would like when I am canvassing, and yesterday a crazy man outside the Turkey Hill who first showed me an envelope with a note on it saying he had $200 of someone else’s money that he would return by X date tried to kiss my hand.

The woman that we’re staying with was this afternoon part of a two person protest at the corner of George and Market against an invasion of Iran.

I am so glad that the registration deadline is Monday, however no one has told me where I am going next.  I have to return a rental car in Philly, but then, who knows?  We may not even be working in Pennsylvania on our voter contact project.  Seems like the state is getting pretty blue.

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