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Activism from a Personal Perspective:
Registering People to Vote... and more
by Amy Landau

My first step toward political activism occurred in an unlikely setting: at
the Joshua Tree Music Festival one weekend while camping with two friends in
early May. On that desert morning, I remember deliberating on such minute yet
pivotal questions as these: How do I present my voter registration forms? What
do I write on my sign? And lastly, how should I approach strangers with my
mission? My friends coaxed me out of my shell to face the new world I was entering
with courage. The first moment when my marker dared to scrawl the words
“REGISTER TO VOTE” were personally cathartic. Finally, I was doing something --
something in my own small way to make a change. I made my political debut dressed
in accidentally patriotic colors: a shocking red top with electric velvet
blue pants and a straw hat. In this rave-ish garb, I set out, clutching my sign
and my box filled with voter registrations I’d printed off the Internet. “Go
on!” my friends coached in admiration as I headed out into the great unknown.
What followed was the beginning of an education that has proven surprisingly
rich in subtle yet powerful ways.

Let me back up a moment and say that for months at a time I’d been near the
boiling point with the Bush administration for its rhetoric of lies in regard
to the Iraq war. I’d considered joining MoveOn (a grassroots, Internet-based
organization with 2.5 million members) for weeks, until one day I received an
e-mail from them which pushed me over the edge: a call for action in response to
the torture of the Abu Ghraib prisoners. The horror I felt at the news of
such hypocrisy, stemming from a fascist mentality I hadn’t deemed probable in my
own country, unsettled me like never before. The fact that actual torture
thrived in Iraq under the guise of Bush’s lip service to “freedom and democracy”
finally spurred me to action. That day, I signed up as a volunteer, expecting
to be flooded with directives. I waited in anticipation to be told what to do.
Finally a weekend arrived with a MoveOn action plan -- in the form of phoning
unregistered voters in the swing states. But, as luck would have it, I was
already booked with my apolitical weekend at Joshua Tree. What was I to do?

I began to investigate how I could make a small difference in my own creative
way. A little searching on the Internet proved fruitful when I came across a
site with federal voter registration forms: ideal for registering people to
vote, regardless of state residence. All it took was photocopying the
surprisingly brief form replete with directions and snagging a clipboard and some pens.
Of course some small voices inside me mocked, asking: How effective will
registering a few voters be? Are my actions necessary in a historically
Democratic-leaning state? But other voices overruled these, saying that if I was doing
this for anybody, it was for myself. If I could even register one non-Bush
voting person, I would have accomplished something. If I could stir some talk, some
awareness, even activism among others, I was spreading a positive ripple of
change, however small. I registered about five people to vote that morning,
including one new citizen of Brazilian heritage. I had the good fortune to meet
up with two other activists from a group called “AWAKE Community,” who honored
me with an invitation to join them on the Lollapalooza music tour where they
planned to continue their work.

My search grew. I contacted the Secretary of State’s office to question
officials on my rights as a citizen registering others to vote. I was directed to a
hidden order form filled with tiny legaleze that could grant me all the
California registration forms I ever wanted. Perhaps riding on too much adrenalin,
I wrote “1000” in the tiny blank and faxed in my request and, in due time,
received the heaviest package of my life. I learned that I had a legal right to
set up on any public street and that I could be as partisan as I chose in my
role. I could declare my dislike of Bush on my signs as loudly as I pleased, a
thought that delighted me. And even though I knew that I was unwelcome at the
Sunday farmer’s market in Ojai (ever since peace protesters were booted out
for their alleged lack of support for American troops), I could still set up my
table across the street and speak my mind. Even so, I found that a more subtle
approach gained me wider access to public spaces. The organizers of the new
Thursday farmer’s market at the American Legion space were initially reluctant
to allow my participation, fearful that my presence would cause conflict with
the veterans. I vowed not to get visibly partisan and they agreed. As for my
sign, I settled on a classically effective line: “If not you, who? If not now,
when?”

At the farmer’s market, I was astonished to find myself suddenly transformed
into a public persona by the presence of my table. People now passed me
furtively with their eyes glued to the ground, fearing my intrusion on their
privacy. How many times I’d taken the same tactic when approached by others on the
streets of New York City! Now I was the one hoping to come into focus from the
periphery of people’s consciousness. Likewise, going public made me open season
for strangers with soapbox rants of their own. I heard from smug
conspiracists and from those who had renounced the entire electoral process (in reaction
to the last election). I heard from a guy who boasted with John Wayne’s swagger
that he could vote at any poll without ever bothering to register. I met
people who refused to vote because of fear of jury duty or the draft. I shooed
away a couple who argued, “What if Kerry murders someone tomorrow?” wishing I’d
had the presence of mind to retort, “Hasn’t Bush murdered enough?” And, of
course, I crossed paths with a startling number of apathetic souls (usually
young people in their 20s). By the same token, I met people -- particularly older
women -- who thanked me profusely for my work, two of whom actually gave me
some free food from the table at their restaurant. More than one woman asked for
multiple registration forms in a scheme to register their teenage children:
they planned to bribe them with the promise of free restaurant meals.

One of my most meaningful experiences was registering a group of homeless
people in Ojai. When I spotted the group sitting together on the grass in Libbey
Park, I hesitated to approach them, wondering if they’d reject me as a
representative of “the system.” But, on the contrary, they displayed the sincerest
form of gratitude. They seemed touched by my recognitionof their citizenship…
and on a deeper level, moved that I saw them as human beings. All but one
person, a Vietnam vet, readily agreed to register, many of them listing the local
community assistance center as their home address. I was delighted to discover
solidarity with these people who were definitely not voting for Bush. Each of
us shook hands and made eye contact: a rare avowal of our equality as human
beings that proved as meaningful to me as to them. I discovered that one woman
was also from New York (White Plains). “I’m from New York too!” I told her.
“What brought you here?” I asked, forgetting our differences for a moment.
“That’s a long story,” she said with a sigh.

Through my activist involvement, I had a chance to get to know Adrienne
Prince, who is running for the 37th State Assembly in Ventura County as a Green
Party candidate. Adrienne has taken her belief in the power of local activism to
an inspirational level, demonstrating a refreshingly genuine perspective [see
her ad in this issuee]. One night, she turned up at a MoveOn house party in
Ojai to encourage others to follow in her footsteps and run for a local seat in
a state office as she is. She also managed to raise $100 in about five minutes
for a voter registration banner with a slogan invented by her 14-year-old
daughter: “Vote: Make them Count You.”

On the topic of the presidential election, Adrienne sympathizes with
disillusioned people who have given up on the election process, admitting, “I can’t
blame anyone for not voting.” She understands the cynicism of the populace in
regard to the two-party system and believes the answer lies in Instant Runoff
Voting (IRV), a system that would enable voters to select a second choice
candidate, thus eliminating the monopoly of the two-party system. If this method
were adopted, one’s vote for a less popular candidate (such as someone not tied
to corporate interests) would “run-off” to Kerry, for example, rather than
Bush.

No one can deny that a deep level of mistrust has filled the minds of many in
response to the last presidential election. The electoral system and voting
process is far from perfect and urgently needs work to correct and improve it.
At the same time, I know we need to continue our efforts to register the
“other 50%” of Americans, as Michael Moore says, who are unregistered. I can’t
convey the sheer exhilaration I felt when I convinced one woman in Ohio to turn
over a new leaf by registering to vote this year for the first time. “I’m
turning 61 this month and I’ve never voted,” she said when I phoned her from a
MoveOn house party. “I don’t know how to vote!” The infectious thrill that
filled the house each time one of us MoveOn members convinced another person to
register was truly something to treasure.

Of course, registering people to vote is a first step, a beginning, in
precisely the same way that my activist jaunt was a beginning. If people can be
convinced to care enough about what’s happening right now to register to vote,
they may begin to take other steps as well, such as writing to congress,
supporting independent media and speaking out more often on what they truly believe
in. And if people like you, reading this article, can be convinced to take a
stand in even a small way, as I did, to get the vote out or to join a MoveOn
house party in your community – well, then, we really do have hope of making a
lasting change by November 2nd and beyond. Like Adrienne Prince, we may even run
for office one day… Wherever you are on the continuum of activism, now’s the
time to join in.

• Move On: http://www.moveon.org
• ACT (America Coming Together): http://actforvictory.org
• Verified Voting: http://www.verifiedvoting.org
• Instant Runoff Voting: http://www.instantrunoff.com
• Adrienne Prince: http://cagreens.org/ventura/prince
• Contact Amy at Amy.Landau@gmail.com

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