Dear supporters,
I’ve been knocking on doors for the Democratic Party since I was eight years old, and campaigning is now my profession. Much of my life is measured and marked by political campaigns. Over time, I’ve developed Election Day rituals and habits. You won’t hear from me often, I prefer to work behind the scenes, but I wanted to share a bit of it with you.
On Election Night eve, after putting up yard signs at polling locations, I get home to go to bed early. I lay out my clothes and shower the night before (which I never do) so I can wake up and be ready to go at 4 am.
I make sure I have extra hair ties and a brush, a toothbrush and toothpaste, extra socks/underwear/tee-shirt, phone and laptop chargers, and an extra battery pack— just in case there’s a recount (this has only happened once but it forever changed me and now I’m paranoid).
I text my mom and dad and grandma and thank them for always supporting me and my candidates. I text my friends who are also on races, “love you,” “break a leg,” and “see you on the other side.”
I call my candidate and my team to see how they are feeling and tell them no matter what, we left it all on the table, that I’m so proud of them, of us. “We’ve got this, we’re almost there.”
The morning of, I drink a cup of watery black coffee and I eat a glazed donut, which also I never do. (I think it’s just what is typically available in the wee hours of Election Day morning.)
Before any of that though, I have a still moment with myself. I don’t go looking for it, and it’s never planned.
Yesterday, Sunday on the brightest, sunniest fall day, in what were once white running shoes, now covered in layers of dirt, I tapped my way up the cement steps of a yellow ranch-style home in Dayton, Ohio. Shonetta answered the door. I wished her a happy Sunday, as one does, and asked her if she had a plan to vote on Tuesday. She did. She told me she plans to go in person before work on Tuesday.
I asked her if she had a few minutes to talk to me about Shenise. She did.
In the span of two and a half minutes at the most, between a porch door screen and two masks, we shared a lot.
I asked her what she thought about policing in Dayton. She told me she was worried about a lack of accountability, transparency, progress. “What has changed?”
We shook our heads. I reminded her that Dayton was the last major city in the state of Ohio to mandate the usage of body cameras in the police force. I told her that the Democrats in charge in Dayton are too afraid to be bold— that much is clear. And I told her that Shenise is a candidate willing to take courageous action.
Not a single elected official or politician in Dayton, a city that is 40% Black, has stuck their neck out on policing issues.
Except for Shenise.
When Clifford Owensby, a Black paraplegic man, was dragged out of his car by his hair, not a single elected official in Ohio could be bothered to comment on it.
For weeks, no one said a word. Local news would not cover it. Except for Shenise, who beat the drum so hard that the Washington Post, Newsweek, and other national outlets picked up the story, forcing local outlets to eventually write about it, too.
Today, standing in the sunshine with Shonetta, I felt it— the quiet understanding of why I am here, once again, asking a stranger for a vote the Sunday before Election Day.
It’s because of Shenise, and people like her who never quit fighting, who stand up after being knocked down, who make us believe we can do better.
And in that quiet space on Shonetta’s front porch, I felt this community with me, too, this army of people, people who exist behind an email address, whose faces I’ll likely never see.
Michael who gives $1 on every email; Ellen who gave $100 early on; Mohammed who chipped in $5; Nadia and Keegan who give $3 and $5 recurring; Sam who gives $15 at a time; I thought of all of you.
Thank you, truly, for all you have done to support Barrier To Entry PAC. Thank you for lifting up Shenise.
The last thing I do before I hit the polls on Election Day is I say a mantra to myself to shake off the nerves, and center myself for the exhausting day to come.
Here’s tomorrow’s mantra:
I hope it’s a week where the average voter believes she can make a difference. And hope it’s a week where our candidate knows, fervently, that she belongs.
Now for the ask — because your support is so critical to continue propelling our movement and elevating our working-class candidates. Will you make a donation today as we gear up and build momentum for tomorrow’s big Election Day?
DONATE NOW: [link removed]
See you on the other side,
Eden
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BARRIER TO ENTRY PAC supports candidates and campaign staff from working class backgrounds as they carve their paths in the Democratic political space. We provide direct cash assistance for essential items like phones, cars, laptops, and living stipends -- which often times, these candidates and their campaigns don't have access to. We also serve as a resource for individual mentorship and training to ensure candidates and their staff feel supported and equipped to enter the political space.
Pitch in today to help provide necessary support and resources for working class candidates today! >>
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Cleveland, OH 44101
United States
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