For the last three months I volunteered my time to the Martha Coakley for Senate campaign. I held signs, made calls, (yes, that was me calling incessantly), canvassed, recruited, tweeted and blogged. Following her loss, I feel much better than I expected I would. Maybe it’s because I know I did all I could to get my candidate elected. Maybe it’s because it feels good to speak up for that which you believe. Maybe it’s because I have seen bigger political disappointments (like the Supreme Court naming George Bush president over Al Gore and then the country electing Bush to a second term). Or maybe it’s because I know, if we were still standing after those eight years, we will still be standing at the end of Senator Brown’s term.
I am not going to engage in post-election quarterbacking. So many others have that covered. But I do want to share what I witnessed on the campaign trail. These experiences were as, if not more, upsetting than the final outcome.
Leading up to the primary, when our group of local volunteers stood out in the cold, holding signs on street corners, most drivers passing by either demonstrated their support with a honk or a thumb’s up, or they ignored us. When we called to ask voters if they would support Martha Coakely, they answered yes, hung up, or responded with a quick, “I’m for Capuano, or Khazei, or Pagliuca.”
After the primary, when we made calls, we started hearing, “I would never vote for her,” or, “No way I’m voting for Coakley.” When we stood out on corners, some drivers would roll down their car windows and yell. “Go Scott Brown,” or “Coakley sucks.”
The #masen Twitter feed, which had been rather sleepy but mostly civil leading up to the primary, was suddenly flooded with #teaparty tweets, some of which contained crude, tasteless comments about Chappaquiddick and Mary Jo Kopechne.
The morning of the election, while holding a sign with two other women outside a polling location (which is also my child’s elementary school,) a man, in a truck, slowed down, rolled down his window, and yelled to us, “Martha Coakley is a fucking beast.”
At the end of a long day, I was waiting to get results at another polling location. A man, older than me, came in to check the numbers for Scott Brown. We introduced ourselves and he asked me if I actually liked my candidate, or was I just following party lines. I happen to be an Independent. He was talking to me when I excused myself to read a text from my husband. “Sweetheart,” he said. “You should be at home with him.” Then he proceeded to tell me I was a Socialist and I wouldn’t be happy until I turned the country into Sweden. Sweden, according to this man, is a country of “lard asses” who are lazy and don’t produce anything. Usually I try not to use one data point to describe an entire country. But I asked this man if he had ever been to Sweden. He had not. I have. In fact, I went to tour a manufacturing facility, and was impressed by the innovation I saw there.
Just as I was wondering what Sweden had to do with the Massachusetts special election, he brought the conversation back to Coakley.
“She is stupid,” he said.
“Actually, I think she is quite smart,” I responded.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
“I disagree.”
“She doesn’t even know who Curt Schilling is.”
“I don’t care if my Senator can name the 2002 starting lineup for the Red Sox,” I said.
“She is STUPID.”
At that point the polling warden came over to share the results with us. I took out my notebook and pen and wrote them down. My Brown counterpart looked around for something to write on and then said, “You are going to write them down for me too, aren’t you?”
“No.”
“You’re not?” He seemed surprised.
“No.”
You really won’t help me?” He seemed shocked.
“No. I came prepared with a paper and pen. You did not. Who’s stupid now?”
It was that exchange, and the man swearing at me from his truck, that had me more depressed than the final results. So much rudeness. So much hate. And that, is what prevailed in this election.
