It felt inevitable for me to experience a mini-existential crisis my first year away from home as I grew into young adulthood, attempting to make sense of the world and its reality. Right as high school began to seem familiar, the college bandaid was ripped off to reveal a whole new set of dynamics and uncertainty. The external world continued to dishearten me, and the 2024 presidential primary promised no relief. So in March 2024 when I questioned the state of my reality and our country’s, I indebted myself to three months of work I believed in on Campaign Semester.
I was hired as an organizer for incumbent Democratic Congresswoman Marie Gluesenkamp Perez, ranked as one of the most vulnerable democrats up for reelection, in Washington state’s Third congressional district. Her opponent, Joe Kent, was a MAGA-endorsed Republican who has been caught in association with notorious white supremacist Nick Fuentes. 2024 was the second time Gluesenkamp Perez and Kent contentiously opposed one another; Gluesenkamp Perez’s 2022 victory being a huge upset for the 12-year Republican-held district. I knew what I was walking into, what Gluesenkamp Perez (who prefers to be called Marie) would refer to as a “dog fight.”
My cross-country road trip across the northern U.S. intensified my excitement to explore a new area. I had a chance to knuckle down on one job — minimal distractions or social obligations that confused my purpose while at school the year before.
When I walked into the campaign office, my boss greeted me: a 2022 Occidental Campaign Semester Alumnus who would walk me through the ins and outs of working on a campaign. However, the reading, podcast-listening and 1:00 a.m. discussions with my dad couldn’t prepare me for what had to be experienced. The field team was responsible for spreading the message and activating voters about Marie’s campaign at a grassroots level by recruiting volunteers, organizing canvassing launches and facilitating local visibility events. As an outsider to the district, I felt an immense responsibility to respect the experiences and perspectives of constituents while also persuading them that Marie would preserve the culture and tradition of the district and provide increased quality of life.
My knowledge of the district and its people came less through my prior research, but more from my conversations with volunteers, community members and constituents I canvassed door to door. After volunteer and constituent calls every weekday morning and all day on the weekends, the organizers headed out to canvass in their prospective locations throughout the district. Our field team collectively knocked on over 125,000 prospective voter doors. Only about 10 percent of those people answered, but even so, the fact that 12,500 people opened their doors to speak with a stranger about an unknown cause solidified the point that people cared about their communities and the people surrounding them.
During the last three weeks of the campaign, it was a marathon that felt as if it would never end, but I didn’t want it to end. Volunteers filed through the doors on Saturday and Sunday mornings, some stashing our campaign office with baked goods, sandwiches and Costco’s Cashew Clusters. Rallies in the downtown squares of small towns were packed with enthusiastic supporters, the campaign staff scrambled to fill out canvassing packets, not allowing any volunteer to leave without one. I was so involved in the process of covering more turf, recruiting more volunteers and persuading more voters that winning or losing seemed somehow in the distant future.
As I trawled the sidewalks of Main Streets, cul-de-sac suburban scapes and the perimeter of gravel dirt roads with canvassing literature in hand, one thing stayed consistent — I was always with myself. I was, by definition, the most alone I had ever been in my life, but I felt more engrossed in my surrounding community than ever before. I don’t know if I could instantaneously cite the legislative districts in Illinois off of the top of my head, the school districts or which issues identified with any region. But for WA-03, I knew that Terri Niles and David Stuebe were neck and neck in the 17th legislative district race, the school districts in Wahkiakum County had to cut back to a 4-day week and that shellfish farming was an integral part of the Ilwaco economy.
Four days until the election, I was shocked with the fact that this would end, and it frightened me. My certainty seemed intertwined with the purpose of the campaign and the people that came with it. I would soon have to leave, and everything that I had experienced would be gone. The campaign staff and volunteers that I had made connections with would stay, even after I left. And there was still more work to do.
Two days after election day, the votes trickled in. Marie had managed to win, increasing her 2022 margin by 3 percentage points.
There is something to be said about the self-certainty that comes with committing yourself to a high-stakes goal. The belief I had in Marie’s campaign trumped all doubt I might’ve harbored within myself. I was a part of the campaign, and in order to feel confident in the campaign, I needed to have faith within myself.
As time progresses in MAGA America, it is common to feel discouraged. I feel discouraged. But witnessing individuals invested in their community, devoting their time and knowing that 20 other students across the country, participating in campaign semester, encountered the same things makes lost hope feel hollow.
Contact Lucinda Toft at ltoft@oxy.edu
