Mental Meanderings Part II

I must confess that when I initially applied to volunteer with the Obama campaign here in Georgia, I could never have anticipated that it would lead me down the road upon which I am now traveling. Originally I came to Georgia because I saw the enormity of the need here: there are close to one million unregistered voters in this state alone, over six hundred thousand of whom are black.

Since working here in Macon, I have come to learn how the voter registration laws here have been crafted in a manner that deliberately makes it hard for both working people and for poor people to vote. The Bibb County Borard of Elections is the only place in Bibb County where folks here can go to procure a free voter ID. It's tucked away off of a remote road located twenty minutes north of downwotn and is only open from 8:30am-5:30pm Monday through Friday. No nights. No weekends. As one can probably imagine, people who work from 9-5, are in some cases taking public transportation, have children and so many other obligations, have a difficult time making it there to register. As such, many of them don't. Not to mention, once they get to the Board of Elections they are required to show proof of birth, residence, utility bills, and one hundred other documents that have successfully prevented many people from going through the trouble. And yet, when one registers for either a hunting or for a fishing license here in the state of Georgia, they are automatically registered to vote. You can probably see, all-too clearly, what we're up against.

There are however, many of us here who are so inspired by this amazing opportunity for change that we have determined not to allow de jure racism prevent us from registering as many people as possible. Senator Obama is right when he says to America that what is happening now across the nation is not about him; every day I begin to realize that more and more. It isn't about Senator Obama, rather it's about Rosa Watkins, a woman who has raised a daughter and who is now raising a granddaughter, yet who comes into the office at 8:30pm after having helped her grandchild with her homework in order to make phone calls; it's about Ms. Juanita who ruins here freshly painted lime-green fingernails by spending four hours ripping off labels on old manila folders so that we can make up voter registration walk packets; it's about Mr. Ford who, when I come home from work at 1am, I see sitting on the edge of his bed in his boxers and a wife-beater, writing the return addresses on the registration forms from the day before so that we can mail them out the next morning; it's about Drew Benbow, Ashley Diaz, Brooke Obie, and Khary Talley, Mercer University Law Students who, after exams and hours of studying, come out to the clubs with me until the wee hours of the morning to register people to vote as they stand in line to get inside; it's about Ms. Arthena Caston, a working mom who, after having worked a ten hour shift at Geico, comes by the office to help us enter data; it's about Ms. Beverly Ford, the woman with whom I live, who I hear bustling around the house until 2am printing off lists of housing projects that we still need to canvass and who is scared to allow herself to believe that change can happen in a state like Georgia; it's about Gwen Lipford who, though working a hard day at the prison, still comes to an organizational meeting in the basement of a church to turn in eleven registration forms that she was able to get during the past week; and it's about Ms. Montgomery, a ninety-four year old woman who walks a mile and a half from the bus depot to the campaign headquarters downtown twice a week in the sweltering Georgia sun to make ID calls. These are the individuals who are the feet of the movement; these are the people who are the heart and soul of what has become much more than simply a campaign. It's a revolution. So many of us are tired of the same kind of politics; so many of us across the nation are tired of the same people being overlooked, and marginalized, and left without a voice.

Many people look back upon the Civil Rights Movement with nostalgia. They talk about what an awesome time it was to be alive; and yet, not everyone marched with Medgar Evers, who for a time was the Civil Rights Movement in Mississippi; not everyone participated in the Montgomery Bus Boycotts or in the Freedom Rides or in the Greensboro sit-ins. There are people who tell me every day that what we're trying to do here in Georgia is impossible. And yet, I have seen people inspired and lives transformed before my eyes, including my own.

Even as I type these words I am sitting in my car with my computer on my lap, in the parking lot of a church where in minutes, I am about to talk to the congregation about the importance of being part of the change that this state, that this country, and that we all so desperately need. This movement has taught so many of us to hope as we have never dared to hope before, that this country can be better. Though Georgia is currently the toughest battle-ground state for Senator Obama to win come November, I know that we can do it. This is the change that we are all working so hard for; this is the change that I feel so blessed to be a part of.

-Amanda

A Letter to Dorian

Dorian,

That article was fantastic. It's encouraging to hear that people outside of the U.S. are also inspired by this movement and are rallying around Senator Obama. Today was a crazy day, and when I say "crazy," I mean it in the best possible sense of the term... I had an organizational meeting tonight in Forsyth, GA which is a small city located about 35 minutes north of Macon. Forsyth is located in Monroe county which is one of the most conservative counties in the state. Its gone red for decades and some say that it's impossible for Obama to win the county come November. I'm organizing the entire region and as impossible as it seems for a historically republican county to go blue come November, I know that we can do it if we work hard enough.

Tonight was exciting especially coming off of yesterday which was a really tough day. Yesterday I planned for an organizational meeting and confirmed 12 people to attend, however only 2 people showed up. But then I figure: it's better to have two motivated individuals versus a room full of folks who'll end up doing nothing once the tingling feelings of excitement dissipate as they walk out of my life to face a society that is doing everything within its power to resist the change that is going to come.

This evening I drove 45 minutes north to rural Forsyth, GA where I was having an organizational meeting in the basement of a church. I spent the past week building for this meeting and wasn't sure whether or not people would actually come; I left a lot of messages but was only expecting about 8-12 confirmed individuals. Dorian, I kid you not: 10 minutes after I started talking people began pouring into the room. As I talked to folks about the fierce urgency of the moment in which we are all living, they just kept walking through the door. I spoke with honesty and conviction about why I'm here and I challenged them to remember what they have at stake in the outcome of this election. So many of us have so much at stake...it's almost too overwhelming to think about.

So often I hear people talking about the Civil Rights era with nostalgia; they talk about what a dynamic time it was to be alive. But then I remind them that not everyone was marching with Medgar Evers in Mississippi, or participating in the Montgomery bus boycotts, or organizing the Greensboro Sit Ins. I've come to realize that both then and now there are really three kinds of people; there are cynics who don't believe that change is possible; there are those who support change, yet who are content to sit on the sidelines (kinda like those people who say to me, "I'm voting for Obama but that's about it"); and then there are those individuals who are the feet of the movement. The last type of individual is so rare; and yet I have faith that they are still out there.

Tonight was awesome because there we were, 47 people in the basement of a church, planning voter registration events, phone banks, and deciding which housing projects we're gonna walk through and which grocery stores we're going to stand outside of with clipboards and registration forms. Most of the people there tonight were older people--middle aged or retired. I'll never forget the desperation in some of the womens' eyes who came up to me and said, "baby we got to do this." One man said to me that he never thought that he would see in his lifetime what happened in Forsyth tonight; he never thought that people in Forsyth, GA could come together to fight for something so much greater than any single one of us.

This moment has taught so many of us to hope as we have never dared to hope before. It's an awesome time to be alive! While a part of me misses you guys and Amherst, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world right now. Hahaha, it's funny to hear myself say that...Macon, GA of all places! Who would have thought?? But I take comfort in the fact that this is where God wants me and I am seeing people inspired, and communities transformed before my eyes. I feel so blessed to be part of this movement. So, so blessed :)

Amanda

P.S. I've attached some pics :)