{November 6, 2017}   The Struggle is Real

Its almost 1 am and this nursing mama should be asleep instead I am awake. I can’t even say I’m wide awake, I’m just barely awake, yet there is so much to do. How does one balance it all? How do you function as CFO of our home, chef, property manager, laundress, and full-time child care provider. All while trying to eak out a semblance of a career (which has take a major back seat, I mean right now its not even in the trunk, its hitched to a trailer and holding on for dear life), lose weight, stay presentable (which means doing my hair every day) , and trying to actually interact more than just feeding  the aforementioned child. Sure teaching her French right now is a little much, but I also don’t want her just staring at the ceilings between feedings and diaper changes. How do you accomplish it all? Right now it doesn’t feel like anything can be dropped. Don’t manage the finances and rental property? Don’t prepare whole food meals for the family? Don’t do laundry?

The go to answer is have your husband help more. But if he is already extremely helpful between classes and work and taking on a major portion of the cleaning all while dealing with Uncle Sam on a daily bases what more can you ask before you both are overwhelmed? Right now my solution is that I overload myself to keep from overloading him. It seems like men can’t handle stress at the level women can. I don’t know if there is an answer. There’s just the question at one in the morning. How do you balance it all? The struggle is so real.


“Service is the rent that you pay for room on this earth.” – Shirley Chisholm

People often attribute this quote to Muhammed Ali, but Shirley Chisolm is the first to be quoted with this adage. My own personal sheroe, Shirley Chisholm, was the first woman to seek candidacy for one of the major political parties when she ran for the Democratic presidential nomination. She is often forgot, but Hilary Clinton definitely stands on her shoulder’s as the Democratic nominee.

I highlight these Shirely Chisolm because she worked on the Education and Labor Committee during her time in Congress. She worked for the everyday woman, immigrant, minority worker. In fact, one of her legacy’s while in the New York State Assembly was to  get unemployment benefits extended to domestic workers. It doesn’t seem like a big deal now, but then as is the case now, the main demographics who worked in domestic work was the woman, immigrant, minority worker. The very people who are at the forefront of much of the controversies in the 2016 election. The very reason many people want Hilary as President. The very people who are “causing all the problems” with their protests and demonstrations against inequality.

Ironically, the same type of people (all though not the same demographic) that was the catalyst for Labor Day. Labor Day was originally intended to be a nationwide protest against inequality led by laborers, not a day for picnics. The meaning changed when laborers were guaranteed one day of a year to relax (worker’s rights weren’t law then, and people often were forced to work 365 days a year or risk losing their jobs)… That’s right, Labor Day. You see we as a country have a habit of forgetting from whence we came. We receive small concessions and think that one, everyone has received them as well, and two, that no further progress should be made. Imagine if people stopped striving for change at the first sign of success? Most of us would not have the freedoms and liberties we receive today. So the idea, that people should cease protesting or rising up because they have a good life or life isn’t as bad as it use to be is not only sad, its pathetic and selfish.

I normally keep this blog light, but we as country just need to be better.

Here are five trail-blazing women who ran for president before Clinton:

Victoria Woodhull (1872);

Belva Ann Lockwood (1884);

Shirley Chisholm (1972);

Lenora Fulani (1988); and

Jill Stein (2012).


Learn more: Friday 5: Women Who Ran for President

Learn more: The Forgotten History of Labor Day



New York Post :By Amanda Bell May 6, 2016 | 9:07am

 Here’s the hard truth about being a military wife

Photo: Shutterstock

There are a lot of nice perks to being a military spouse — great health insurance, a steady income stream for the family, and even discounted rates at the on-base supermarket, for example. But there are also many unique struggles that those of us who share our lives with servicemen and -women go through behind the scenes.
May 6 marks Military Spouse Appreciation Day, the perfect time to highlight the level of dedication it takes to be married to a service member.
As an Air Force wife, I can safely say that the commitment military spouses have for their partners’ important occupation is far more expansive than I initially expected, and ultimately, they tend to sacrifice just as much of their lives and time to the cause as the ones in uniform.
1. Your career might have to play second fiddle.
One aspect of military membership that everyone seems pretty familiar with is the fact that service members have to move around quite a bit. There’s no hard and fast rule, but families typically receive relocation orders every three to four years or so while on active duty.
For those of us who do have careers of our own going on all the while, this can be especially tricky — having to re-license in new states every few years for some professions, maybe, or even having to work totally outside your chosen field due to area unavailability or being stationed outside of the country.
For example, a friend of mine, Jillian F., is an attorney. When her husband receives his next base assignment, depending on the location, she might be facing a long road ahead if she wants to keep practicing law.
“Every time we PCS [permanent change of station, the military term for reassignment] to a new state, I would generally need to take that state’s bar exam in order to continue to practice,” she said. “This costs several thousand dollars and can take up to six months to study, take the bar and become licensed. This process would then repeat every three to four years with every move.”
This is not only a difficult and expensive process, but it also might wind up pushing someone in her position out of his or her career altogether due to the extent of the inconvenience. “Many military spouse attorneys give up on their career or work non-law jobs rather than jump through all of these hoops with every move. A minority of states are relaxing their licensure rules for military spouses, but there is still a long way to go.”
This is a challenge that extends to several other career fields as well. Another friend of mine is a nurse who, just a few years into her career, has already taken three state licensing exams (and counting).
2. You might land somewhere you don’t want to be.
Let’s face it: Not all military bases are created equal. Some are located on the beach with warm, lovely surroundings and others are basically smack dab in the middle of nowhere. Not only does this potentially present a challenge on the career front, but it can also put a strain on a person’s happiness while living in the area.
Sure, there’s the possibility that you’ll get to live somewhere exotic overseas and see and do things you never would have otherwise, but there’s also the very real chance you’ll find yourself in a small town with very little that interests you, and your job is to make the best of it. The worst part? You have exactly zero say-so about where you’ll go. Zero.
3. You’ll probably live far away from the people you love most …
If you were raised in a military family, you might already be used to the perennial shuffle. If not, though, it can be kind of a wallop to the gut to find yourself extraordinarily far away from all of your old friends and family: No longer a quick car ride to see the ‘rents but a couple of plane hops instead. This can be pretty brutal as time wears on, especially when you’re raising little ones of your own and/or watching all the fun and important times being had without you from afar.
As Katie R., who lives nearly 1,500 miles from her parents with her service member husband and 6-month-old daughter, told me, “I hate the fact that I’m away from my family, missing holidays, parties, vacations and trips and having my parents miss the birth of their first grandchild.” It certainly can hurt.
4. But on the bright side, you get to make new families.
The good news is that, if you’re receptive to meeting new people and forging new relationships, you can meet some really awesome people who are in the exact same boat as you and are willing to step up and be there for you when others can’t.
When I was expecting my first-born, for example, my husband’s commanders’ wives threw me a beautiful shower, even though they’d only met me a handful of times by then. “It’s just what we do,” they shrugged.
That sense of camaraderie and empathy was a common thread of the military service members and spousal network that existed on the base (again, a lot rides on location), so even though it wasn’t the family presence I was expecting for that moment in my life, it was a strong and supportive one all the same.
“Living in different places has allowed us to not only meet new people, it has given us the opportunity to make lifelong friends. It might be cliché to say we have a ‘military family’ but it is true. Friends we met during our first assignment have been our family the last three years, and we’ve experienced pregnancies, children, hardships and just plain life together,” Katie R. added.
“Even though we have moved away from some of them, I still consider them family. One thing I’ve learned as a military spouse is that we stick together, we are truly there for one another. We rally together whenever there is a tragic loss of life, cancer diagnosis, depression or divorce. We also celebrate the good times and keep each other sane when our spouses are busy with work or deployed. It’s a sisterhood of some sort.”
(Full disclosure: I’m happy to admit I’m among that close-knit group she’s referring to here, and yes, we are fam.)
5. Your partner’s mortality looms large.
Perhaps one of the hardest things to wrap your head around if you’re not a military spouse is that disconcerting reality that your partner may be called to put his or her life on the line while serving. If they are, it’ll be up to you to singularly maintain the household in their absence despite whatever feelings you might be coping with.
Heather T.’s husband was deployed to Afghanistan when her son was just a few days old. Not only was she experiencing uncertainty surrounding her partner’s safety and the emptiness of his seat at the table, but she was also going through one of life’s craziest experiences, raising a new baby, by herself.
“It was as if my heart weighed a thousand pounds — watching my husband kiss our 3-day-old son goodbye,” she said. “I was scared, but he showed me how to open and close the stroller before he had to go. It was an example of the things we were supposed to learn together. I watched our son do many firsts without his daddy.” She was fortunate enough to be able to welcome her husband home at the end of his tour, but for many, that moment never comes.
Moral of the story? If you’re going to thank your military service member (and you totally should), be sure to give a smile to his or her spouse, too. They’re doing some tough duty as well.

{January 18, 2015}   Wedding Planning

I have always been that girl with a wedding binder. I mean I would literally sit for hours and map out a wedding. Yet here I am with six months to my wedding and no clue where to begin! How did this happen?

Well for one (1), when you’re a kid you have an unlimited budget.

(2) Even when you imagined that you might marry a man in the military (what can I say I’m a military brat, I knew it was a possibility), little things like world conflicts, Return No Later dates, commanders, supervisors, leave time, never actually figured in to the plan. Everything just worked out.

(3) You certainly didn’t have a fiance who was halfway around the world and would be until shortly before the wedding (and possible during the planned wedding! But that’s another post and another set of tears).  So even when you went out of your way to marry one of those great guys who is actually willing to help pick invitations and colors, you have to do everything through email, and you have no one to help with the major decisions. 😦

However, if I am nothing, I am a woman who has always risen to the challenge. So even though my wedding planner says I only have 140 days until the wedding. Even though the wedding planner starts 18 months before your wedding, no matter what, and serves as a reminder of how much time you DON’T have. Even though you are working on a small budget because there is little time to save. Even though military plans are dictating your wedding date. I know I can pull this off!

– I graduated law school early

– I ran a campaign team on crutches during the election

– Hell I pledged!

Surely I can do this. Now, all I have to do is lose weight, avoid sleep, prep for trial, plan to move around the world, and plan a wedding. Done, done, and done… (cue tears now).

Thank GOD! We are in the last 14 days, I am so happy! I’m tired, its been 23 days, 322 work hours, since I had a day off. I am broken, literally, I will be on crutches for the next 2 weeks. I am just as ready for it to be over as probably everyone else. However, the last few days have made me even more persistent, because if I can get fired up about this campaign and my country on crutches and sleep deprived then so can you. “No” is no longer an answer I accept. I just can’t. Don’t just get out and vote people, get involved. How much more uncomfortable will it be to lose health care versus talking to strangers. To pay higher taxes rather than lose basic rights. Let the count down begin…

About a week after the debates there was a constant stream of supporters looking for yard signs. This is like one of the largest pet peeves of campaign workers, because while they are fun for people to have, bumper stickers and yard signs are not very effective in winning elections. Sure they do bring out a small (and I mean miniscule) number of voters who have tendency to high school vote. “High school vote” meaning they vote for the candidate whom they think majority of other people are voting. Basically they treat major elections like popularity contests, they just want to be with the in-crowd, so if they see more signs and bumper stickers for one candidate or another they will vote that way. Now in actuality most people vote in the direction of their in-crowd, the follow their circle, only a very small amount base this opinion on the presence of stickers, pins, and yard signs.

With that said, people always want them, and a segment feel that by displaying this paraphernalia they have actually made some meaningful contribution to a campaign. Maybe its my upbringing, being raised by two older parents who spent their adolescent, teenage, and young adult years in the thick of and aftermath of the Civil Rights era in the South, but it seems inconceivable to me that people can be this apathetic about the various levels of government that impact their lives. More so, I can never understand people who do not feel compelled to contribute to their communities beyond simply being present. I mean I grew up volunteering, and not just on Thanksgiving (Nod to all the one day a year volunteers). Anyway, a little tidbit to people who think they are politically active from their homes and computers…

1) When People Tell Me We Need More Yard Signs


2) When People Tell Me That They Are Contributing By Tell All There Friends About the Candidate….

I guarantee you don’t have that many friends, and I can already tell you don’t know enough to be a source of relevant and accurate information.

3) What I Wanted to Say to the “Volunteer” Who Refuses to do Any Event or Activity I Call Her for but Posted this to her Facebook…

“Our President needs our help on a grassroots level for this campaign. That is why I have volunteered my time and skills.”

— except she doesn’t do anything! — this is what I wanted to post on her wall….

I am so ashamed of myself, yet proud when I get the job done. To be a campaign worker you have to be extremely persistent, not unlike the ultimate sales person. I find it comical because my undergraduate degree is in Communication which is a field of study which opens you up to a lot of sales job offers. I HATE sales, so the fact that in many ways I am in a sales position is just funny to me (funny as in not at all, but you can’t help give wiry laugh at the irony).

I have flash backs to all the great sales movies I’ve seen and I try to summon their determination to hit their quotas. Well, I’m still working on the determination, but I have the pitch down pretty well. To the point that sometimes, I just feel ashamed after a call recruiting a volunteer. Ashamed, yet elated that I nabbed another one… Sure she may never come back, but at least I got one shift. What can I say, its a dirty business and I’m competitive. Don’t judge me!

If I didn’t feel like I am the evil means to a righteous end, I might feel bad. In an effort to reestablish my road to salvation, I took time to reflect on my recently developed character flaws. Instead a decided to create a blog post. Side Note: For all the crazies who feel like they want to respond, this is in jest. For all my campaign workers, you know the deal.

1) I find myself praying for peoples recovery solely so that they can return to the campaign:

2) I have no patience for people who want to talk, but don’t want to volunteer.

3) I find most conversations with people who don’t work 7 days a week / 14 hours a day (so everyone) end remarkably similar to this:

4) I’m finding it extremely hard to be the “nice girl” to people I find apathetic…

5) Its even worse when you refuse to help the campaign, but then want something (like tickets to an event).

My rant for the day. I honestly don’t believe civil engagement should be optional, especially when people seem to have no problem opting into complaining sessions.

Earlier this week I had my first day off in more than 30 days. I kid you not. I’m not complaining, I’ve understand that when you are in such a high stakes field as politics, days off are a luxury you can’t afford this close to Election Day. But that is neither here nor there. I used my day off as an opportunity to grocery shop, do some laundry, give my dog attention, and give myself attention. I did maintenance, girls you know what I mean. Rome was not built in a day. 😉 I also changed my hair. As an African American woman with natural hair, this was a significant chunk of the day. Anyway, I cut my hair pretty low, about six inches or more, so that it is a low Afro and the twisted it. Twisting my hair made it look even closer cropped. I love a cute and neat short hairstyle, especially when I have such a grueling schedule as the one I have right now. My hair kind of spirals at the end so it looks almost like I’m trying to grow short locks.

Anyway, the next day I go into the office. Now, maybe it’s because I’m a Black girl. Maybe it’s because as a Black girl, no matter how liberal your surroundings, I’ve realized that you never completely forget that you are the only Black person in the room. Either way, I am always interested to see people’s reactions when I change my hair. This probably has to do with being the only Black girl for so long in so many different places across the country; no matter where I go White people are fascinated by my hair (sometimes intrusively so, but that’s a different blog). Entering the office, it was intriguing to see who complimented my hair and who just simply starred.

The Mid-westerners starred, but said nothing. I attribute this to their ideal of beauty being long hair and the fact that when I cut my hair I cut out most of the remaining golden blonde remnants from my summer style. The kid from Utah, asked how long it would take to grow my hair back, I too attribute this to the Mormon-based culture of liking long hair on their women. The guy from California, seemed to like my hair, and talked about how cutting the hair is like a new start. The woman whose son where’s his blonde tresses is in locks himself, wanted to know the product I use to get the shine in my twists. But my most enthusiastic comments came from the international volunteers from Belgium and Denmark. They thought it was absolutely beautiful, as do I.

I’m probably over-analyzing this, but as a military brat, past experience has taught me that people from around the world are less shocked, more accepting, and even complimentary of natural Black hair. I always wonder what is it about their acculturation that makes this so? Is it because they find it to be anomaly, is it because the international community interacts with Africans on a more frequent basis, and thus are more accustomed to natural Black hair? As opposed to Americans who often see chemically processed hair on the Black people with which they interact? Second in the hierarchy of acceptance are Coastal folks and people who are exposed to the international community. Coastal folks are those from the West coast, mostly California, and the East coast, mostly New York. I think because they are exposed to a Black community that has always been known for embracing their “ethnic identity” that natural hairstyles aren’t such an oddity.

The funny thing is, besides the coloring in my hair, my hair was unprocessed. Maybe because it sort of spirals when it has length that made it more acceptable? Yet somehow in the last two days I have received comments about showing my “militant side,” and comments about how I will stand out in what is a largely red (conservative/ White) area. All of the comments are phrased in a manner that is supposed to be a good thing. Like I’m purposely making the White conservative community I work in uncomfortable, a thought that thrills the liberal Whites I work with. Yet, the thought really never crossed my mind. This isn’t the first time; I’ve cut my hair short. It won’t be the last (I seem to get the urge every few years). I also find irony in the fact that my coworkers take joy in the assumption that this change will make outsiders feel uncomfortable, yet I don’t think they are comfortable with the change themselves. As liberal and open minded as they think they are I can see in their faces that they found me more attractive when my hair was lightened and had length. They felt more comfortable when I had shared attributes with them, even if artificial. The immediate assumption is that as Black person “embracing my ethnicity” is somehow directly tied to Whites (I used quotations in the former sentence because I don’t think my hair defines my Blackness and don’t want to give the impression that blonde, straight, or curly hair has anything to do with my relationship to my heritage and ethnic reality). Yet, I think that is just another example of how unenlightened they are. They can like Black people, and vote for a Black president, but subconsciously Blackness is rebellion. It’s not a political statement when the other female coworker comes in with her hair straight and brunette; it’s just her natural hair. Yet mine, even in 2012, is a political middle finger to some group of arbitrary Whites who still fear Black empowerment.

Sorry to disappoint, but my hair is just that, my hair. It’s not meant to piss anyone off, it’s not meant to make a statement beyond, I like it styled this way. That is what I wish I could say, but honestly its not completely true. It is because of this white assumption of militancy mentality that I have been so committed to wearing my hair unprocessed for the last five years. It is because it is odd or revolutionary for me to leave my hair in its natural curl pattern that makes me do so, because why should I be expected to alter myself to make others comfortable? It is such a commentary on our culture and the damage our glorification on White beauty has done to such a diverse country. The paradox that when I wear my hair in its natural state it is in protest against the mindset that I wear my hair in its natural state as some sort of political statement. It’s ridiculous, sad, and true all at once.

{September 21, 2012}   On the Campaign Trail… Optimistic

Every day I wake up and think I can’t, but then I do.  It’s the funny thing about this campaign; I seriously have the exact same emotional roller coaster pattern every day. I wake up optimistic; I read some scripture and listen to inspirational music. I think positive thoughts. I get dressed, I walk the dog, I realize I don’t have time for food, I realize I have yet to go grocery shopping so I don’t have any food. I feel a pang of guilt because I have short changed the dog on his walk. I know that the neighbor will come over mid-day to let him out, but I also know that she seriously doesn’t get dogs and will only walk him for a total of 5 minutes (no exaggeration)… just enough to take the pressure off. That guilt leads to frustration and then my optimism drops a level.

I pull into the parking lot and ready myself for a 14 hour day; it’s a few minutes until I actually have to be in the office so I sit in the car for 3-5 minutes. I scold myself for being that person that doesn’t want to give her employer even five extra minutes. That thought directly leads to me feeling indignant because I never leave the office when I am officially “off” thus, why can’t I have a few minutes to myself! My enthusiasm has dropped another level.

I walk in and soon volunteers are in the office. The morning volunteers are particularly cheerful; the fact that we schedule the perky people as the morning office volunteers is no accident. I smile and see their enthusiasm for the candidate. My enthusiasm increases. I look at my calendar some of my favorite volunteers are coming in today. It really doesn’t matter what day it is because my favorites are the one who come in almost daily. Commitment. I love it. I love that they get it. My enthusiasm doubles!

It’s time for the morning meeting. We talk about our “goals” (quotas), our strategy for achieving it, and how we are going to get our teams to work harder. My team is made up of older people. They care, but they are tired; not just physically but emotionally. As one told me, they’ve done the “activist thing” for years. They want to pass the torch, but the area I’m in makes it difficult. People are middle class to well off. They moved here to avoid the city, the youth, and the minorities. The majority of the populous are content with their monotonous world and their monotone environment. They are living the American dream. They like homogeneity. There are a few who believe that others deserve the same opportunity and understand that hard work alone didn’t get them to this point, but rather an accident of birth gave them the stepping stone to achieve their success. However, they are thankful for the accident and few want to disturb the comfort of their neighborhoods and connections by going against the status quo by publicly helping organizations like the one for which I work. There is a small percentage that put more than money where their mouth is and are trying, and even they have to be poked and prodded to do more. As I look at my goals, I know that my people will try, but it is more than likely, it is very probable, that they will not achieve those goals. My enthusiasm sinks.

It’s one of those situations where you know you can’t win, but you fight for the gold anyways. Plus, you know that so much is hanging on your success than just you hitting your goals. Actual lives can be altered for the worst if your candidate doesn’t win. It’s the ultimate sales job, trying to sell selflessness, but what is at risk is so much more than the quarterly bonus.

I get into my day and I am thankful for those who do show up, who do make calls, who do canvass. I realize why I have to be on my game, so that my team, even though it is small is motivated enough to be on their game.

The day winds down. It’s been long I’m tired I just want a nap. I didn’t take lunch. I ate a little at my desk and felt guilty when a team member walks in on me, as if I’m not supposed to eat. Still, I have about four more hours of phone calls to make, trying to recruit more people to give their time, so that my team doesn’t feel so overwhelmed. I get a few scheduled, but it never counts as a success until they actually show up and work. I’m still tentatively optimistic. However, of the handful of people I have scheduled, I literally called about 200 people. It’s frustrating, how come they don’t see how important this is? How can they be so selfish when it comes to social policy? How can they say they care, that they support, but aren’t willing to give 2 hours? They will spend more time in front of the television tonight! I’m disheartened because I feel like it’s so obvious that one has to give back to their community yet few do.

The office officially closes. I’m worn out, mostly emotionally, but also physically because I try to be cheery and perky while volunteers are in the office. I prep for the next day, because it’s important to be prepared before the volunteers and team members come in each day and I’ve already talked about my few minutes in the parking lot. I’m so tired. We have our evening meeting. I talk about successes of the day, and near misses, I lament about how close my team came to achieving goals, but just didn’t have the man power. I feel like I am in a Ground Hogs day experience sometimes. The exhaustion alone is enough to make me not want to come back tomorrow, but that coupled with the constant failures that come with a job such as this makes it a sure bet that tonight is my last night.

The other campaign workers want to go to the bar. How can they want to go drinking? We are on hour thirteen and we still have things to wrap up. Hour fourteen hits, I know the culture of campaigns insists on after hour bonding so I agree to go for one drink. Because I have such a small team, I need co-workers who feel connected to me. The only way I will survive and succeed in my territory is if they like me enough to help. Especially those who are having an easier time, with more developed teams.

We go out. We laugh, we drink. The alcohol makes me even sleepier. But the conversation about our goals, our hopes for the campaign, and for our careers in general re-energize me. We talk about our sacrifices for this campaign. Some have left school, some jobs, many their home states. I’m not feeling as dejected now; we all are coping with the sacrifices we’ve made for the greater good. Its hour sixteen. I can’t stay any longer, my dog is at home and I am exhausted. Unlike the out-of-towners, I don’t live in housing that is a five-minute drive from the office. No I have a commute. I head home.

I’m greeted by the dog. He has to pee so there is no straight to bed. I walk far longer than it is safe at this hour at night, or should I say morning. Still he is at home all day, he hasn’t gone to the bathroom, and he hasn’t destroyed the house; that deserves a long walk. Next its dishes or laundry. No dinner because there are no groceries. Shower and fall into bed. Only, now I’m not tired, I mean I am. I’m exhausted, it’s just I’m so tired, I’m actually having trouble sleeping. I turn on old reruns, and then I start to drift off. I tell myself that this is only for a short time. This is for the greater good. That I always wanted to be a part of the change in the world, not just make money (all though I am not against making money) and offer no significant contribution. I tell myself, I’m not alone, that I work with people who feel the same way. I tell myself, that we as a group were specifically hired into this area because we can handle difficult communities. I remind myself that even though we confront opposition every day, we were placed in this area because they felt we could handle it. I can handle this. I can do this. I want to do this. I want to make history happen. I drift off to sleep…

The first alarm sounds. I press snooze, a few more minutes maybe that will make me feel like I’ve had more than a few hours of sleep. My second and third alarm goes off. It’s not until I see the pathetic look in my dog’s eyes that I feel guilty enough to rise. I’m optimistic.

My Morning

My Evening

The funny thing about committing your life to another individual’s success is that it is easy to forget that the ultimate goal is someone’s advancement not my own. What do I mean? Well, I am working on this campaign, last week I worked 91 hours in 7 days, I drove 446.8 miles covering my assigned region, and hosted 15 events.  With such a grueling schedule, it can be easy to lose sight of the ultimate goal and focus on your immediate busy schedule. So every now and then I have to remind myself, that I do this, not because I hate sleep, don’t like eating regularly, enjoy drinking more coffee than is probably healthy (that’s a lie I LOVE coffee especially Starbucks), or that I am just glutton for punishment. No, I do this because even as a little girl I wanted to make a difference in the world and I never want to be that person who rants and raves and does nothing… Even if that means sacrificing dearly for several months.

In addition, I have to remember that even though I spend a majority of my day with uncooperative people who like the idea of being a part of a major campaign (but not the work), I do have some people who, like me, just want to know that they didn’t stand on the sidelines, they did something. In particular, I have a doctor who comes over when he has breaks from patients, two elderly individuals who are determined to make those calls no matter how rude people are to them (especially my wonderful lady who has been a citizen for 20 plus years and still has to deal with her legitimacy being questioned), and a businessman who schedules his business meetings around the two hours he spends volunteering daily. These people get it and I love them for it! They remind me that this isn’t just a job, but hopefully my contribution to transforming society. Thank you… I love you man (and woman)!

P.S. Forgive the run on sentences, I’m sleep deprived.

For my elderly woman, who has been a faithful voting citizen for 20 years, and is shy on the phones. Don’t listen to those racists. Half of them will never bother to do more for their community than complain and then blame others for their failure (ironically that’s is what their candidate say about us LOL)….

This is what I want to say to you:

This is what I want to say to them:

et cetera