Old Dog, New Tricks

On the Campaign Trail

With a fist full of flyers and door hangers, I smiled at the NEST doorbell in case anyone was looking. A young woman with a chubby toddler in her arms answered the door. I immediately went into my spiel. “Hi, Laura McKenna. I’m running for Board of Education this November,” and handed her my highly photoshopped campaign flyer.

After a quick glance at the flyer, she said, “I’m trying to get him to poop.”

The toddler looked at me and blinked. His blink said, “there is absolutely no way that I’m going to poop on that scary potty. I’m going to keep it all inside me for three days.”

Last spring, I decided to do something totally new, something scary. I decided to run for office in my town. It’s been a MASSIVE learning curve. I’ve learned about the cost of lawn signs (errors were made here), the steps needed to get Facebook to run political ads, the absolutely necessary campaign finance forms, the best way to give a three minute speech, and more. Like Madonna, I like to reinvent myself, so here I am at the tail end of my 50s, doing something totally new.

Back in June, I threw myself into a high octane election with seven candidates for two spots. I won’t go into the details of the race, because most of the issues are hyperlocal and aren’t relevant to my national audience here. Instead, I’ll tell you a big about some of the things I’ve learned about campaigning and myself in the past month.

On a shoestring budget — a source of pride — I don’t have a crew of election professionals on retainer, so I did a lot myself. I needed a website, so I spent a weekend learning how to make one. I needed a campaign ad for Facebook, so I learned how to make a 60-second video with background music. I made it with the iMovie app on my cellphone, while sitting on the sofa with a glass of wine. Here’s the TikTok version.

This learning curve has stretched over many months. Over the summer, I did a lot of technical things, liking making the website with a domain name and setting up a gmail account. Working with another candidate to save money, we designed and ordered lawn signs and all the literature.

In September and October, I spent, sometimes 14 hours a day, doing the more traditional campaign responsibilities. I gave a lot of speeches, filled in forms for the various local newspapers and organizations, shook hands, got Covid, and handed out 1,000 flyers outside of 10 schools for their Back to School Nights.

With all the speeches and televised debate over, I’m on the home stretch of this election. The only thing left to do is knock on doors and talk to people. And I’m discovering that this is something that I really love doing.

With about six square miles and 26,000 residents, my town is fairly large by Jersey standards. There are many streets that I’ve never driven down, despite being here for 12 years. Well, I’m seeing it all now!

For the past week, I’ve been printing out little maps of different sections of town and methodically — some might say compulsively — walking up to each home with campaign literature. I ring the door bell and wait. If no-one comes to the door, I place a flyer — known as a door hanger or a door knocker — on the door knob and leave.

Fun fact: it’s illegal to put campaign info directly in a mailbox. Only a mail carrier can touch a mail box.

If a person comes to the door, I hand them a flyer and say vote for me. That’s usually enough.

Some people want to talk and even debate issues on their front steps — which is fine and fun. I’m doing this because I genuinely love education and politics, so I have no off-switch when it comes to this stuff.

Others want to talk, but not about elections or schools.

That mom with the stopped-up toddler wasn’t the first mom that asked for help. Another mom came to the door with her six-year son. The boy gave me a high five and we talked about his beloved first grade teacher for a while. I looked up and the mom said, “I made dinner and he won’t eat it.” So, I suggested going to Wendy’s to get the chili - fast and healthy-ish. She liked that.

My biggest fans are older women, who were the PTA president types back in the 80s. They’re just happy that a woman is running for office. “You’re running for office, honey? Oh, that’s nice.”

Dogs. Dogs can be a problem. As I walk up the path to the front door, I’ll sometimes see a massive Cujo dog waiting for me behind the screen door. Cujo is pissed and ready to rip my throat out. At least six feet tall on its back legs, it barks and snarls at me. With only a thin pane of glass separating me from certain death, I gingerly put the flyer on the door knob and flee.

With the changing fall leaves, I stroll around my town, check out the different styles of homes, and appreciate the geography of different sections of town. People have been living here since the 1600’s, so we have a few of the original Dutch settler homes. In the late-1800s, the town became a commuter suburb for New York City, so there are some beautiful Victorians with sweeping porches. There are streets filled with 1920-era Tudors with little windows and slate roofs. We also have many streets with typical mid-century split levels and post-war Cape Cods.

My favorite adventures are going down blocks that I have never seen before and finding quirky homes nestled into the woods in the hilly section of town. I now have a list of homes that I plan to buy after I win the lottery.

The best time time to knock on doors is between 3:00 and 6:00. With people working from home and the kids back from school, folks are usually home then and starting to get dinner ready. Being out at that time means that I can’t make dinner or drive Ian to all his therapy appointments. But miraculously, it’s all getting done. Others are helping out. and we’re making a lot of short-cut meals. I might get used to this.

After these trips, I highlight the streets that I visited on a dozen maps that I’ve taped to my dining room mirror. I’m slowly turning the black and white maps into colorful lines and mazes. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to knock on every door before November 7th, but it’s a goal.

Perhaps I can reach all those homes and voters, if I keep knocking on doors for two or three hours for the next twelve days. Even if I don’t meet the goal or win the election, I’m having a great adventure, despite the scary dogs.