Students’ Views

I move the cursor of my laptop and click on Windows Media Player. I have a cool looking metallic skin on it which I admire as I search for the song. I don’t even have to type the whole name in, version 11 is that amazing. So I double-click.

I look up from the screen and get thrown back into reality. There is the steady, noisy, excited din which speaks of energy bottled up, waiting to explode. There are people rushing around, scurrying and bumping into each other everywhere in the Obama Campaign’s headquarters in Berlin, NH. for the last week and a half it’s just been myself, two interns (Barret and Nathan), and Shayna, our fearless leader. Occasionally a volunteer would come into the office for a few hours to make phone calls, but for most of the time we were the four working day and night. Nathan had been there for a couple of months, Barret about one. I was the latecomer, spending only two weeks by the time the primary was over.

It’s Monday the 7th, the day before the primary, and there is a buzz like none other in the office. The previous Friday night an overwhelming number of volunteers from out of state had driven up for Get Out The Vote (GOTV) weekend. They came from all over, though mostly the northeast. Benjie, the guy who had stayed with Lisa’s family, where I had been staying, was actually Canadian. He had decided to help out with the Obama campaign before heading back to Montreal where he would return to school after taking a year off. He had visited and volunteered in India, Asia, and Australia, backpacking through most of the places he stayed. He was just one of the nearly forty volunteers which had come to the north country of NH, enough people to hit the entire city of Berlin, a GOTV world of 7,000 people, 3X between Friday to Monday, all door to door, face to face.

So as I look upon the madness that is happening in the once quiet office, and listen to the beginning tunes of The Final Countdown, which I have just begun to play, I can’t help but think of how it all started out. I had arrived on a Wednesday night and gotten lost trying to get to a house I was supposed to spend the night in. The next several days were some of the most miserable I can ever remember. I had contracted a sudden severe case of homesickness. Away from family, friends, even other things familiar like climate and thus dress, I was glad I was a three day drive from home, otherwise I might have driven back. The work itself, making phone calls, canvassing (door to door), took some adjusting, because in essence you were harassing people, interrupting their daily lives (which was important to do but nonetheless disconcerting). At the same time I had sold my soul to the campaign, and couldn’t even take a long stroll to enjoy the new surroundings and people. I realized that every person I came into contact with wouldn’t attempt to see me as a person, but would understandably see only the campaign when they looked and interacted with me. I ached for some real connections with people again.

And I was saved. Saved by a wonderful, charming, and delightful family which took me under their wing and adopted me. Lisa Simms was a regular volunteer at the office, and I stayed for the majority of the time with her and her husband Don and their son Ian, who was eleven. Lisa quickly gave me a thorough understanding of her family’s history and was refreshingly open. It was this acceptance into the family which made the turn around for my experience in NH, and I then steadily began to adapt and nearly thrive in my internship duties. Every day I was getting better and more efficient. Though the tasks were repetitive and monotonous at times, I had purpose, a like of which I had never experienced in my life. I learned what real determination and motivation is, learned what it took to devote yourself to something.

And so there I am Monday morning, watching people as they, one by one, become aware of the music I have played. They chuckle, then carried on. Not a second to lose. And with that theme song at my back I step away from the table and begin the day.

I was so glad to get back home, and am still in contact with the Simms. Below is a letter I sent recently to them:

Dear Simms,

Sorry it took me so long to write. I’m two weeks into school and things are settling down quite well. I can’t say I’m entirely enthusiastic about some of the classes I have this semester, but I’m not finding any of them positively miserable.

The trip back home was uneventful (thankfully). I only got lost once. In Little Rock, Arkansas, I took an exit and the road split into left and right in three hundred yards. I went left onto I-530 and half an hour later, when I finally reached my mother at her work, she looked it up and let me know t hat if I continued not only would I go a considerable ways south, I would eventually begin to go back east.

I went on a highway I can’t remember because it would hook-up with the interstate after about 25 miles. It took about 40 min because I passed through several charming little towns. It was a beautiful day, in retrospect I wish I had enjoyed the scenery more, but at the time it was my third and last day driving so all I felt was frustration that the locals had the audacity to obey the speed limits.

By the time I made it home Berlin, NH, was a hazy dream. I could picture its mountains and plowed streets, and recall the layers of clothing I lived in, complete with snow boots, but the experience seemed oddly interminably distant.

I learned a lot though, and miss how genuine you guys were. Sometimes if I let myself linger on the places memories will come to me, shockingly vivid, like sledding down that winding road and eating the snow from its banks as I crashed.

I’m having some fun over here too, though. This past Saturday I went caving with Southwestern Intramural and Recreational Activities (SIRA). I’ve been on several trips with them, but I’ve never had quite the adrenaline rush I experienced caving. Wearing knee and elbow pads and a helmet with a light on it, it seemed as if I were crawling through the insides of some giant, ancient creature. There was a thin, slimy film of mud on ever contour of the cave, and most of the time you couldn’t stand up or even crouch. I was army-crawling and rock climbing my way through really tight places, using muscles I didn’t even know I had. There was mud ALL OVER me- and it was worth it.

To top it off, we had ice cream afterwards. I stuck to vanilla with bananas mixed in. Yummy.

Did you see our man kick some butt in S.C.? I was so happy, so relieved that he delivered a victory. He needed it to gain some good footing for Feb. 5. I hope to God he does well. I got disillusioned in high school, and I don’t want to lose my newfound hope that I can be proud of America again. Especially not in my first election.

Well, life over here on my end is trudging on. I can’t wait to hear back to see how you guys are. I guess meanwhile we’ll all look toward Super Tuesday.

And today IS Super Tuesday. I have knots in my stomach. Let’s see how it goes.