Training Day

The office seemed different that morning when I’d arrived; the chairs were scattered around, the stack of clipboards was scattered too, the staff was sitting around eating breakfast – some with their feet up on the large table – and the propaganda bricolage wallpaper made it seem as much a rec room as a campaign headquarters. The directors all greeted me with welcome and then talked for a few minutes about things that mostly went past me; ‘callbacks,’ ‘FMing,’ numbers that elicited reactions from the group that I couldn’t quite decode. There were a couple of maps posted on the wall behind the table, and I zoned out looking at them while the morning meeting proceeded – it was still awfully early, and I was a bit overwhelmed…look at that, I have no idea what that place is…

“Alright, Bloom,” Josh knew I was zoning. “Snap into it. You’re going to learn a ton of stuff in the next few days, so today we’ll try to keep it easy on you, just show you the basics.” We walked over to the empty part of the office, where the interview had been held. He picked a clipboard up from the sprawl and handed me a sheet of paper with half a page of script on it.

“This,” Josh placed his palm spread out on the sheet, “is the rap. It’s the basic template for every conversation you’ll be having out there. It’s pretty simple, but each step is important.” He handed me the clipboard, and picked up a blue t-shirt from a stack that was by a dank couch. It had a small DNC logo on the breast, and a larger one on the back.

“You can take like fifteen minutes to look over that, and then we’ll be having some other people come in who’ve never done it before, you and I will practice with them.”

He walked back to the staff meeting, which looked like it was just wrapping up. I looked at the DNC logo on the shirt and for a second I couldn’t for the life of me remember what the acronym stood for. Democratic….something….Council? It was just a brain fart, but still…how embarrassing. I didn’t know what I’d gotten myself into …
* * *
The rap was simple. It took about a minute to read aloud from beginning to end. After I’d read it a few times over to myself, I started to see a structure pretty clearly. Some of the phrasing here or there was clunky – up until this point, my career had tilted toward copyediting, and I had developed already a keen sense of clunk. (Whether or not I can deploy it in my own writing, I’m ready to acknowledge, is a very different matter.) But the attitude was totally positive, inclusive, filled with action and confident assertion. It was very efficient.

When Josh came back, with two girls in tow who looked even more out of place than I felt, he had us just watch him say the first line for a few times.

Hi, do you want to help elect John Kerry?

“That’s your ‘call.’ Very simple – you’re out there and you want to talk to a stranger, and in order for that stranger to want to talk back to you, you are going to have to be really up and out there, really get their attention. Like, ‘hello!’ I’m here and I want to you!”

The girls laughed. He looked at me and said, “alright, so I’ll read it aloud once through, and then we’re going to give it a couple runs.”
* * *
Drama club was one dorky thing I never considered. I don’t feel comfortable reading lines, and this was especially weird to just be practicing saying hello to someone. He had me walk from about fifteen feet away up to where he was standing, as if we were out on the street.

After a few times around, Josh and I paired off with the new girls, and we practiced just saying it to each other, back and forth.

“This first interaction you have with someone is so important,” Josh said. “This is where you make contact. Eye contact. Stress the you – you want to talk to me? How can I help beat George Bush today?” After a couple of minutes we established a rhythm, it was like a call and response.

“Ok, so what’s the next thing you say?” Josh asked.
“You introduce yourself,” I said.
“That’s right. You’ve made contact with them. Yes! They want to help beat George Bush, so tell them who you are before you tell them how you’re gonna help them do it. Go—“

Hi, my name is Greg, and I’m working with the Democratic National Committee. “Good! And what are you doing?” We’re out here working to defeat President Bush and elect John Kerry and other Democrats to office in November. “Awesome. Let’s practice that a few times and then we’ll go on to the next part.”
* * *
More people were filtering in to the office. Some had their blue DNC shirts on already, others had them slung over their shoulders. People were talking with each other, joking and laughing loudly. Josh brought us over to a far corner.

“Alright, so what’s this next part?” he asked us.

“It sets the scene.”

“That’s right. Anyone who’s going to stop for you is going to want to defeat George Bush, but you’ll take a few seconds to remind them why it’s important and how it needs to happen. Greg, hit me.”

We’ve got everything on the line in this election – from our environment, to our health care, the economy, the war in Iraq and our respect in the world. There are only 69 days left –
“Whoo! 69 days,” a passing director yelled out at Josh, “I’ve been waiting for months for this day, it’s gonna be good!” – There are record numbers of people already behind the campaign, so we’re in a strong position and we’re working to keep it that way.

“Right." So this where you explain why right now, day 69, is totally important – let’s see, what is it this week… oh right, because the Democratic Convention passed already, so Kerry can’t raise any more money himself. This is why they’ve gotta give now, because otherwise Bush has this advantage of an extra month until the Republican National Convention.”

Josh had us practice this passage a few times. We’ve got everything on the line in this election… The girl I was paired off with was mumbling, tripping over her words. I was trying not to read the sheet, and each time I would forget a sentence, or a phrase. Josh called us off again.

“Now here comes the trickiest part,” Josh smacked the clipboard as he said it. “You gotta get this into their hands.”

We need your support, he said, handing the clipboard to the girl I was paired with, who, surprised, took it as if it was a potentially dangerous weapon.

“That’s the statement of support, and you are going to want them to sign it.”
“What does it say on it?” I asked.
“’I pledge to support John Kerry and the Democratic party…,’ something like that – basically, if they sign or not that’s fine but you need to get this into their hands.” He took it from the girl, then gave it right back to her, saying: “it begins the transaction.”

Josh had us practice handing off the clipboard. “Make sure to get it in their hands.”
“Now – here’s the clincher.” He took the clipboard from me, handed it back to me, and said with emphasis on every other word:
We’re-asking for-a-contribution of one-hundred-dollars.
“One hundred dollars,” I repeated flatly. I thought to myself, “a hundred dollars?”
“One hundred dollars,” Josh said again. “Now here’s a funny little thing,” he said, pausing as we all waited for him to continue. “If you tell people, ‘be generous. Give what you can,’ it’s totally weird but you’ll see it’s true, if you tell people to be generous they will give you a dollar.”
We nodded.
“If you say a hundred dollars and they don't want to give you a hundred dollars let them figure out what they will be willing to give, but you gotta set the bar yourself. Now let’s finish it off. Greg, read it once and then we’ll practice the whole thing through.”

Our top priority is to put resources in to key swing states and reach every possible vote. Your support will really make a difference in helping us win back the White House and Congress. The best way to contribute is with a credit card or a check made out to the Democratic National Committee…
* * *
We practiced a few times, and then Josh had me stand there while he walked by and I called the rap to him. He walked up, shook my hand as I started reading, looked me straight in the eye, answered in the affirmative at every point, and then I was done. I was out of breath – this play-acting was awkward, just weird, and it was hard enough to remember all the lines in their sequence without feeling silly.

“Good. Pretty good,” Josh said, “You missed a few lines here or there but you weren’t reading so that’s ok…one thing you forgot, though – what is it?”
I looked down – I was still holding the clipboard.
“That’s right, forgot to get it to me. Now there’s nothing preventing me from just walking away. But for a first time that was great.”

The other girls had a tough time with it, still stumbling over words and reading sentences without much inflection or indication of the meaning in each. We practiced for about ten more minutes, by which point I had a pretty good hang of the sequence.

“One last thing,” Josh told us. “You’re going out there on the street and you know there are going to be people out there that do not want to help beat George Bush. And they are going to tell you. You better believe it. It will get ugly. And the thing you gotta do is, real simple, real simple – kill ‘em with kindness. They come up to you and say ‘oh, I hate John Kerry and I hate you too,’ you just smile and say, ‘have a nice day.’ Kill ‘em with kindness. Cause you know what? Behind that terrible Bushie is a person who’s going to see them, and see your calm reaction, and they’re going to get pissed off and write a check just to spite the guy before them. Just keep it cool out there.”