BY ALEX LEADER-SMITH

In print | Published November 4, 2004

I’d spent the month immersed in civic engagement. I voted. I told friends to vote. I watched debates. I watched the Daily Show. I watched attack ad after attack ad after — ooh, Emerald Nuts ad! — after attack ad after attack ad. I read Newsweek. I bookmarked Gallup.com. I spent hours examining clickable interactive maps of red and blue states. I did all this and more, but it never seemed like enough. I was knowledgeable, but was I helping my country? There had to be more I could do.

Luckily, I knew some folks who could help me out: The Swarthmore College Democrats are masterful political advocates and expert activism connoisseurs. And with the election approaching, they craved volunteers like sleep-deprived Swatties crave caffeine. All I needed was to hang with them, and all sorts of activist doors would open for me. Perhaps I’d even find myself a club.

When I arrived, the Democrats were abuzz with election talk. Congressional candidate Paul Scoles was the meeting’s main attraction, and he spoke forcefully to his crowd of devotees. It was an exciting speech, but for me, the real intrigue came later. That was when College Democrats president Eva Barboni ’06 discussed plans for the coming week. The Democrats had much to do: visibility (standing on street corners with Kerry/Edwards signs), phone banking, canvassing and more. Some members had particularly radical campaign ideas.

“I’ve already come to the conclusion I’d sleep with John Kerry if it would get him elected,” one Democrat said.

Another offered a more practical idea: “[Let’s] ask Nader supporters to raise their hands in Sharples and then beat them with lunch trays.”

Less work-oriented events were discussed too. One member suggested a post-election party, since “either way, you’re going to want to drink afterwards.” It was a lively and enthusiastic planning session in all. Still, I was uncertain about what I wanted to do. Phone banking and canvassing felt awkward; I hate imposing on people’s lives. Visibility was less intrusive but brought with it the risk of “verbal abuse” and protesters with giant aborted-baby placards. I could wallop Naderites, but as one wise Dem pointed out, he wasn’t even on PA ballots! Leaving the meeting, there seemed to be no right answer.

Thankfully, fate obliged me. Dropped into my sluggish Swatmail Friday night was the perfect call to arms. “Howard Dean visiting Swarthmore! Volunteers needed!” How awesome was this? Holding posters wasn’t my thing, but hobnobbing with bigwig governors? That was right up my alley. I eagerly volunteered.

A meeting the following Wednesday assigned us jobs for the Dean event. Sadly, “personal assistant to visiting dignitary” was nowhere on the list. I reluctantly took a role at the check-in table instead. I wasn’t meeting celebrities, I wasn’t changing the world, and I wasn’t spreading democracy, but I wasn’t standing out in the cold directing people, either — the latecomers got that job. Sometimes in advocacy you need to take these small victories.

I woke up early the day of the rally and took my seat at the big check-in table. My job was simple: Cross names off a big master list and hand out generic blue tickets. I was totally, supremely excellent at it. Cross with the left hand, ticket with the right hand, thank you, enjoy, next.

There were a couple of trying moments. People showed up whose names weren’t on the list, but I stayed cool under pressure. Nothing with the left hand, ticket with the right hand, thank you, enjoy, next. An abundance of extra tickets allowed us to distribute one to every comer, regardless of whether they’d reserved tickets or not! I felt alternately benevolent and useless as I indiscriminately doled out tickets to the listed and unlisted alike.

An hour of that, and my work was done. Still, I felt unfulfilled. It seemed to me an activism catch-22. Hand out tickets, I feel useless; do something important like phone bank, I’d feel uncomfortable. It’s too bad. I love the Dems, I love their enthusiasm, and I love their cause. I wish I could’ve done more to help them. I guess I’m just a born passivist. Unless big-shot celebrities are present, of course.

Alex is a junior. You can reach him at aleader1@swarthmore.edu.

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