We can all agree that America’s politics has been a shitshow for the past two years, right? Starting the moment that the Orange Asshole was declared the president things got bad. Really bad.
I’ve been a registered voter since I turned 18. I was so excited to vote in my first election (midterms) and first Presidential Election (John Kerry in 2004). I was so thrilled to vote for Obama and Hilary. And devastated when she lost. But, I’ll be honest, I lived in a nice liberal bubble and had no idea how bad it would get.
I’m white. I’m cisgender, heterosexual, educated, middle class, overall healthy (I do have pre-existing conditions, but none are life threatening). I’m employed and have health insurance through my employer, and don’t fall into any at-risk demographic. By all accounts I’m “safe”. The worst thing that could happen to me, personally, would be jumping through hoops to ensure medication is covered. Mitch is at a slightly higher risk with more severe diagnosis that require regular medication, but again, we could manage and jump through the hoops.
But too many other people aren’t safe. Black men are being shot and killed by police at an alarming rate, women are losing access to safe healthcare and abortion, undocumented people live in fear every single day, and children have literally been locked in cages. I could go on for days, but I trust you all know exactly what is happening as well.
For a while I felt helpless and bordering on hopeless. Then the #RedforEd movement began. Educators were sick of our schools being underfunded and our budgets being slashed left and right, and robbed to fund private schools and charter schools that don’t have to follow the rules. I finally felt like I could make an impact! This was MY protest- it affected me and the kids I love so much. I was ready to fight!!
I had no idea what to do though- is I joined the Facebook groups, and said I was in and waited for ideas. I wrote and called my legislators, I told my story, I asked for the funds my kids needed. And as the momentum increased, so did my involvement. I kept others informed of actions, I “walked-in” every week, I wore my red, I kept telling my story, and I spoke up more and more. And the “walk-in” turned to talk of “walk out”. This was exciting and terrifying. Mitch and I talked and agreed: we would walk out. I had plenty of time off accrued, so I wasn’t too worried about pay, Mitch did not- he would only get paid for 1.5 days and if it went longer he would go unpaid. But the cause mattered, and we decided we could make it work.
On the first day of the Walk Out we drove to Phoenix and marched with 70,000 fellow educators and concerned citizens. It was so hot! We had water, but towards the end I was overheated and under hydrated. I sat down in shade while Mitch walked the remaining half mile to the car- and so many people offered me water, asked if I was ok, and just showed they cared. Educators are the best! We had planned to return for day 3 at the capitol but a nasty stomach bug left me in bed instead. We attended some Tucson rallies, and were out of school for over a week. I was glad to go back because I missed my kids and I was really worried about my seniors as graduation grew closer, but I knew it wasn’t over. We hadn’t gotten what we wanted, but we had started a huge conversation and people were finally listening.
Protest Selfies are a thing now.
Just me, Mitch, and our 70,000 closest friends.
I had decided months ago I wanted to volunteer on a campaign, and even before the Walk Out, I decided to start small and local, and focus my energies where I felt I could make an impact. Enter Leila Counts. I had been following her on Facebook as she started her campaign for School Board and reached out to say I was interested in volunteering. We met over coffee and chatted and I instantly knew I had picked the right campaign- Leila is awesome! She’s not a politician, she’s a really down to earth, great woman. And she cares about our kids- which is what I want for my school board! Honestly, the idea of being a school board member is kind of nuts- its a ton of work and responsibility, making huge decisions about an enormous and incredibly diverse school district, getting bitched at A LOT, and it’s unpaid!! But I’m so grateful Leila wants the job.
I’ve also been to a few protests. I’ve been to big ones and smaller ones- protesting children being held in cages, our lack of a fair immigration policy, Black Lives Matter rallies, and some others. It’s been a learning experience and one I’m really grateful for. I worked hard to collect signatures for the Invest in Ed proposition- turning in over 75 signatures for the cause. And the day that I heard the state Supreme Court threw it off the ballot I cried. I felt so defeated. It took me a few days to pick myself up- thanks to so many passionate educators who kept saying “it’s not over” and “This is just a hurdle”. So after a few days of mourning and being pissed and all the stages of grief, I got to acceptance and decided it was time for more action. Just hoping a Prop would pass wasn’t enough, especially since that Prop was no longer an option. So I recommitted, put on my red, and declared I was going to keep fighting.
Another protest, another selfie.
My motto.
This weekend, I stepped way out of my comfort zone and went canvassing. Canvassing is a fancy term for “knock on people’s doors”. The idea has always made me really uncomfortable, however it’s a really important and effective way of getting names out there and engaging voters. I was so nervous as I pulled up to the Democratic Party Headquarters on Saturday morning, but it went well! I knocked on over 30 doors, 11 of them had people who were home and answered, and those people were generally nice, supportive, and took my info and said they supported the #RedforEd movement or the candidates I was talking about (David Garcia for Governor, Leila Counts for School Board, and No on Prop 305). It was stupid hot out (I think it hit 98 by the time I made it back to that car after about 2 hours of walking around a neighborhood), but I felt like I did something. That night I also put up about a dozen signs in street corners- because simple actions help too.
Flyers? Check! 
Lots of water and sunscreen too!
I’m also recognizing and using my privilege more- and I think thats the most powerful thing of all. When I knock on a door the person inside sees a (fairly) young white woman with red hair. I’m short, chubby, and as nonthreatening as a person can be. I wore my Arizona Educators United red shirt, which is basically a giant sign that means “I’m a teacher”. White lady teachers are the least threatening and most approachable people pretty much ever. Everyone had or knew a nice white lady teacher at some point in their life. Everyone. But this means people will open their door. They’ll engage in a conversation. They’ll hear me out- who wants to be rude to the sweet teacher? Not too many people. So I’m going to continue to use that angle- and continue to educate people about the state of AZ and education. And kids in cages, and lack of an immigration policy. And that Black Lives Matter, and poor people are people. And that our kids deserve better. I didn’t see this activist side coming, but now that it’s here, it’s not going anywhere.
Over a dozen signs on corners- we figured out a good system. If you see one knocked over or see a corner that needs one- let me know! 
