It's November 1, 2020. I have been working for the Democratic Party for the 2020 election. I've made posts. I've done podcasts. I amplified the Black Lives Matter rally in Forsyth County, the county made famous for its racism by Oprah herself. I've attended rallies and vigils. And I've made phone calls.

The phone calls are the thing I've been doing for the past couple of weeks. I was on the phone the entire day for the 2018 election, making sure people had gotten out to vote for Stacy Abrams. I look back and am glad that's how I spent my day. This election is so much more important and so I have committed myself to calling until the last possible minute a person can have their vote counted--Friday, November 6.

Does that look or sound weird to you? It probably does. Election day is Tuesday, November 3 so how can a vote count on Friday? I am not only calling to get people out to vote, but I am also calling to help people who are given a provisional ballot "cure" the issue with their ballot. It may be a change in address or no photo ID or they went to the wrong polling location. There are a bunch of reasons for casting a provisional ballot, but it has to be done by Friday. For me it's more about the vote counting than it is who the vote is for. Voting is a sacred right, our chance to speak in our own government. (Though, once these new candidates are in office, remember that they work for us. Continue to make your voice heard through calls and emails to their offices.)

But I am tired. It's interesting how emotionally draining it is making these calls. I am sure the energy needed is amplified by the importance of this election. But it's not just my emotions, it's my eyes, strained from reading a computer screen for hours on end. It's my body, stiff from sitting for long periods of time (okay, and age but let's not go there!). But I keep thinking, what if that next person was a vote that narrowed the margin? What if that call helped restore the faith of an elector in the voting process? And I think that for as tired as I am, Joe, Kamala, Jon (Ossoff, one of the Senatorial candidates for Georgia), Rev. Warnock (GA Senate), Christina (GA State Representative) must be. Heck, I think of how tired Trump, Purdue (GA State Senate), and Pence must be. I get to go downstairs to my kitchen where Ryan is doing a great job of supporting me by making meals and bringing me snacks. I get to sleep in my own bed at night. I'd say I get to pet my dogs while I make calls but I am sure that if Joe (Biden) wanted Champ, his dog, with him, Champ would be with him. They are on busses and planes, sleeping in hotels, eating a variety of foods that may or may not agree with them.

It's hard out here for a gangsta, folks. I'm tired and I'm "just" working on a micro level. I thought about the difference in being able to show up in a bus, get out, make a well-honed speech, get back on the bus, and go to the next stop. That's still emotionally draining. "Where am I?" "I just got to sleep." But this is the easy part. The work begins after the election. I will go back to writing but the victors will move into a new life, the next stage. That means shouldering heavy responsibilities that impact lives in both positive and negative ways. It's not for the weak and I joke that the smart people don't do it. It's for the strong.

So, I may be tired. I may be unraveling. My eyes may be aching, but there is work to be done. Work for our democracy. And that never ends.