September 2020: On "active and informed citizenry"
This month, I'm sharing some motivating phonebanking stories.
Hi, hello, good morning! Here we are for Gemini Vegetarians’ edition numéro deux. (Get off my baaaaaaaaack, Duolingo.) I’m so glad you’re here.
As I type this, it’s been roughly 37 hours since the first of three (please, no) presidential debates, an event I (like everyone else) found deeply disturbing for a myriad of reasons I need not outline here. (I’ll leave that to the experts.)
The evening recalled a sensation not unlike one I experienced on the morning of Wednesday, Nov. 9, 2016. I was desperately scrolling my phone (like everyone else) when I came across a post that’s haunted me ever since. It was written by a college friend who had been working on Secretary Clinton’s campaign and said something along the lines of, “You can only be upset if you knocked on as many doors as you can, made as many calls as you can, talked to as many voters as you can.” The fact of the matter was that, in my privilege, I had not done those things, and I was ashamed.
I was also on fire. Like everyone else. So I’ve tried to fan those flames toward productivity, not panic, like redirecting a bonfire into a thousand tidy tea candles. President Obama calls this “active and informed citizenry.” As he said in his speech at the 2020 Democratic National Convention: “Democracy was never meant to be transactional.” This is why we phonebank and call our senators and march and donate and allow our voices to be heard, because we can.
I don’t need to be the one to tell you to please triple-check your voter registration, make a voting plan and ensure your loved ones have one, too. In fact, I’m worried all the cries to just simply vote—without also acknowledging the ways this country makes it difficult for marginalized groups to do so, without expressing further action, without specifying actual candidates or even parties—have become something of a virtue signal. (To be clear, I’m not exempt from this myself! I learned a lot from this video by Chrissy Rutherford.)
What I do want to tell you, though, is about some of the voters with whom I’m grateful to have had the opportunity to speak over the last few months. These conversations—a portion of which have been via Knock for Democracy—have changed the way I think not just about “active and informed citizenry,” but also the fibers of democracy. I hope they bring you some of the rocket fuel they continually do for me.
A woman in Georgia who prefers to vote in-person on Election Day, but her adult son, a disabled man, has a difficult time waiting in the long lines that are unfortunately prevalent throughout the state. Though they requested an absentee ballot for him, they’re concerned it won’t arrive in time, so they’re making a family-wide back-up plan for if/when they have to wait at polls. “If there’s a will, there will be a way,” she told me.
A man (and disabled veteran) in South Carolina who, following his service, founded a janitorial business that’s now been rejected for numerous COVID-19 loans. At the end of our discussion, he offered to volunteer for Jaime Harrison to help further advocate for accessible healthcare and small-business protections.
A woman in the Bronx who, at age 87, told me she’s not ever missed a general election and that she’ll vote in-person for as long as she’s physically able.
May we make each one of the next 32 days count. If there’s a will, there will be a way.
I should also say—I have to assume that if you’ve found yourself on this little newsletter, you know I take great pride in my progressive ideologies. But this is not about me. If you do not share my value system or you do not intend to vote for Biden/Harris in November, please feel free to reach out to me. I just want to talk!
This month, I wrote about:
How the powers that be worked with the New York State Department of Health to put on fashion week, an event that, according to past estimates, generates nearly $900 million per year for New York City.
A comprehensive guide to no-inventory, made-to-order production models, which has the potential to address some of fashion's most glaring pain points (most visibly waste).
A clothing brand and advocacy organization working to eliminate widespread mental-health stigma and create more inclusive healing resources.
The origins and implications of the buttercream-y, retro-decorated cakes taking over the baking world, at least on Instagram.
The made-in-Colombia handbag brand that wants to create the kinds of things you can pass down to your future generations.
And here’s some of what I virtually dog-eared this month:
I need you to care that our country is on fire (Charlie Warzel/The New York Times)
Miss Breonna Taylor (Robin Givhan/The Washington Post)
Buying myself back (Emily Ratajkowski/The Cut)
Amy Coney Barrett and the triumph of Phyllis Schlafly (Sarah Jones/New York)
Your “surge capacity” is depleted — it’s why you feel awful (Tara Haelle/Elemental)
Africa’s fashion business is using new and traditional methods to reform as a sustainable industry (Chika Oduah/Quartz)
How not to be a boring direct-to-consumer brand (Alexandra Mondalek & Chavie Lieber/Business of Fashion)
Lizzo on hope, justice and the election (Claudia Rankine/Vogue)
I guess I watch this every day now,
Maura
This month, I’ve made a donation to the Camp Catanese Foundation, a Phoenix-based 501(c)(3)—started by Earth’s-number-one-human Jason Catanese—dedicated to helping inner-city youth to close the achievement gap through educational opportunities.