Volunteering in New Hampshire with Campaign Obama?

Last Thursday was a busy day for many things Obama in my life. I posted the continuation of the Brooklyn event story at 4:30 p.m. that day, but I didn’t share anything about another phone call from the Obama campaign that came in around 8 p.m. that night.

Let me explain at the beginning of this story that, much like the old television stand-by Dragnet, the names in this story have been changed to protect the innocent. Actually, one name has been omitted to protect … I don’t know what.

That’s really what this story is about. Communication breakdown number two.

Now back to Thursday. A volunteer coordinator from the New Hampshire office left a voicemail message responding to a form I’d filled out February 10 at BarackObama.com offering my support to the campaign. The coordinator left a name, a New Hampshire number and an “@barackobama.com” email address, suggesting that I get in touch to talk if I’m still interested in helping out. The person was particularly hoping that I might be able to volunteer my time in New Hampshire, since it’s such a crucial primary state.

I replied by email early in the afternoon on Friday, apologizing for not being available that day, but asking about a convenient time to discuss the campaign’s needs. I thought chances were slim that I’d hear back by email before Monday, so I decided to hold off on the blogging the experience until I had something more substantive to report. I had no sense of whether the conversation would be responsive to what I’d written (looking for foreign-language skills, writing or technology background), or a call to pick up a clipboard.

This afternoon I decided to call them back, since by 3:30 p.m. I hadn’t seen an email reply. I wasn’t invested in the turnaround time on that message, though I’d hoped just a bit to be surprised by an early response. It would have been a nice story to relate to a few of my efficiency-geek friends, but not a big loss.

I reached the coordinator directly after a couple of rings. There was an expected misfire or two in trying to place my name, but we soon established that the coordinator had indeed called and that I had emailed to set up a time to talk. A ready apology for not replying was offered, then the standard clipboard pitch was offered. New Hampshire’s a very important state; we’re trying to get people up here for a day or two before the primary to help cover the state, etc.

It wasn’t a rousing call to action, but it was a reasonable request, and the coordinator helpfully offered some information on particular dates and events that also might be especially enjoyable (e.g., a big pumpkin festival). It wasn’t a bad pitch, and I offered to check my calendar and get back in touch with a date that might work. The coordinator agreed to email me some options.

Here’s where trouble began. I asked a few questions about New Hampshire, the strategy and details of efforts on the ground. I won’t cite anything said in reply, but I certainly didn’t hear anything shocking.

As the conversation was concluding, I mentioned that I had been blogging my experience on the campaign, and that coming up to hit the streets of New Hampshire would probably be a great opportunity to find out how things are going on the front lines of the primary. Cue the proverbial spit take, audible across the phone line.

Then came the question. “You’re not blogging this conversation, are you?”

Huh.

I didn’t really think in advance about what response my mention of blogging might elicit, other than a polite “uh-huh” or a yawn. Basically, I wanted to convey the fact that I was seriously considering the trip.

If I had to think about what some good stock responses would be, I might expect one of the following:

“Oh, hey, that’s great. Are you blogging on your my.barackobama.com profile? Maybe you can help attract more volunteers.” [The campaign did suggest it, after all.]

“Really? Your volunteer submission says you're a writer. Are you doing it professionally?” [I’d call this the “we’re listening” approach, which would be right on message.]

“Blogging, you say? [Gulp] What’s the URL?” [This would’ve been a smarter version of the “I’m afraid of landing in the press” reply that I heard; this is also known as the classic CYA.]

But I digress. Dumbstruck by the shift in tone, I replied that I didn’t have to include the person’s name in the post, if they were uncomfortable with it. I could leave it at “Volunteering in New Hampshire.” This response left the person satisfied and I received a politely generic email a few minutes later with dates when I could volunteer.

Sitting at my computer, still dazed by the interaction, I logged on to BarackObama.com to find that Barack had addressed Wall Street executives at NASDAQ headquarters this same morning. He devoted the speech to extolling the virtues of openness, transparency and accountability. Ouch.

The juxtaposition was painful. Transparency was taking a beating on the street while being showered with praise on the podium. I believe unequivocally that Barack Obama represents an alternative to the circled-wagon mentality that dominates contemporary political campaigns, but promise and praxis must be more consistently united.

I haven't chosen to support him because he'll be like most candidates. Barack Obama champions ethics reform, and spoke again tonight on MSNBC about the need to restore a sense of truth-telling to our politics.

We shouldn't have to choose between a campaign that's well run and one that's ethically exemplary. In fact, in the case of the Obama campaign, it's where the campaign falls short on execution that the ethical lapses also lie. It only makes sense to fix both at the same time. We can be better by doing better, and that is the right road to victory.

There's no winning when you only commit to your beliefs half way. Barack has said from the beginning that he can't do it alone, and this is one more way to heed his call. When things go wrong, we should talk about it early and openly, not when it's too late.

That’s my story. This is how it ends. I am blogging the phone call, but preserving the anonymity of the person in question and any remarks made pertaining to tactics beyond the invitation to volunteer.

That’s the ethical solution I choose to the dilemma created by one Obama staffer’s unexpected reticence. This compromise, I think, is more than what is required by the situation. We can keep our eyes on the prize by remembering what the prize truly is; honesty must be on our side.