You're a good listener BUT you're apprehensive about canvassing: what helps you get past this dilemma?
Part 6 on how to listen.
Meet Gale
Gale is a professional coach and one of the best listeners I know. She’s also become a solid deep canvasser, volunteering with our team in Philadelphia in 2020 and 2022, and canvassing with other groups since then. But in the beginning, canvassing didn’t appeal to her: she anticipated it would be uncomfortable; it reminded her of activities she normally tries to avoid.
Here’s a conversation Gale and I had about what helped her take the plunge.
In the beginning, Gale avoided canvassing
Dave:
Prior to 2020, had you ever canvassed?
Gale:
A smidge - maybe once when some friends came to Philadelphia to canvass, but it wasn’t something I had experience with or was drawn to do.
I grew up in a family that felt very political—always talking and arguing about politics across the generations—but never got involved in turning people out to vote. My father had grown up in DC—surrounded by everything political—but in a time when DC residents couldn’t vote at all. DC residents still don’t have a vote in Congress; we only have a non-voting delegate. It’s taxation but not representation.
Anyway, my dad lived and breathed politics the way other people follow sports. He could tell you which Senators voted which way on key bills from decades in the past. During his career, which was mostly in the private sector, he held both political appointments and civil service positions in the federal government. But being politically active in my family meant reading the news and debating the policies. I never saw my parents go out and do any canvassing or organizing. So canvassing was a relatively alien concept to me.
Dave:
And when you did that smidge of canvassing, how did it feel?
Gale:
Awkward and difficult.
Dave:
It didn't scar you, but it didn't give you an appetite to do more?
Gale:
Correct. I was never an outgoing kind of person. Even when I was in Girl Scouts, I hated the selling part. I would rather use all my allowance money so I didn't have to go knock on people’s door and ask for money in exchange for cookies. Approaching strangers to influence them to do something - that was not me.
Before Gale first deep canvassed
Dave:
What were your expectations in late summer 2020 when you realized that you were going to try deep canvassing?
Gale:
I felt, I can't sit on the sidelines, I need to be doing what I can. Giving money is one thing I can do, but what else can I be doing? So as uncomfortable as it was to contemplate, it felt like I owed it to myself to do what I could, in ways that I could, with abilities that I have.
Then Gale tried it
Dave:
Do you remember how it felt at first? Did you love it? Did you hate it?
Gale:
Well, I remember being very relieved that I could go out with somebody who knew what they were doing. I think the first time out I tagged along with one of your folks who was very experienced. That let me kind of ease into it slowly so she could do the first one or maybe even the second one, and then I could try one, knowing she was there. The first time was very much with training wheels—realizing this wasn't so bad or horrible and I could actually do this. It certainly was nice to do it in the context of working with a buddy.
Dave:
Yeah. Any surprises you remember either the first time or later? Because Gale, you ended up doing quite a bit of deep canvassing.
Gale:
I did. I think it was seeing that people were willing to talk, that even though I was a stranger in their neighborhood and I didn't come from a similar background, they were still mostly willing to talk. In the end, people are people, and it didn't feel too scary.
Dave:
What memory is clearest or strongest or most important to you?
The harried Dad
Gale:
I particularly remember a rather harried father. There was stuff going on in the house and I expected him to decline the invitation to talk, but he came out and eventually sat down on the steps as we talked – leaving the chaos going on in the background.
When he first sat down, he was saying that he really didn't know who he would vote for. Then it became clear in the conversation that he had a bunch of kids, some of whom were adopted, some of whom were his, many of whom were not white. As we talked about what was important to him and important to his kids and how that might be reflected in his choices, it was like a dawning light appearing for him.
I don't know why it took our conversation, but as he talked himself through it, by the end of it, he was like, "Oh yes, it is clear who I need to vote for and I can get my wife to vote and my kid to vote and my other kid to vote after church."
So, he went from not being sure he would vote and not being sure who he would vote for, to being very clear and motivated. It was just a conversation and reflection on his values, as well as the impact of this election on his kids and his kids' future, which influenced his vote—not only his own, but those in his family. That conversation stood out because I was just asking him what was important to him and for his kids; then the choice became obvious.
Dave:
Did you enjoy this conversation with him?
Gale:
I did. I would never have predicted that conversation looking at him coming to the door and saying what he originally said. So, it was just a reminder to me, if I needed one, that making judgments on first impressions, you never really know what you're looking at, and conversations illuminate that. We're clueless about what's going on with other people until we have the conversation. So, we can just be in curiosity when we show up at peoples’ doors.
Dave:
You asked why this conversation led him somewhere when, seemingly, he could have figured this out on his own, without you, and without the conversation.
But from your own coaching practice, you’ve probably seen that speaking aloud to another person who is listening gives people a chance to reflect. People have a real appetite for reflection, yet rarely do it; it gets squeezed out of our busy, everyday life. So, when you show up and they slow down for a moment and they reflect, things happen.
Gale:
It’s true that some people don’t really know what they think until they say it out loud to someone. So often in politics, activists ask about issues and positions on issues, yet that's not what we focused on and not what we needed to focus on. Instead, deep canvassing focuses on values and what's important, and those transcend positions on particular issues but is informed by them as well. I think it takes people to a different level of what's important to them.
Gale’s approach to listening
Dave:
I know you're reluctant to brag but: what did you do that helped him have this conversation?
Gale:
I would say my curiosity, and also joining with somebody first, joining with them on something that they've said, finding where the common ground is so that there's a sense that we can be on the same side about something, whatever that something is. That's a place from which to build.
Dave:
When we've called people back six or nine months after we've deep canvassed them—and we started doing this once we felt we were getting any good at it at all—we really wanted to know did people remember the conversation? Was it memorable for them, not just memorable for us? And if it was memorable for them, what did they remember? It turned out almost everybody remembered us. What we did was so strange, actually wanting to have a dialogue, actually listening with curiosity. That is so non-normative. They remember it.
As for what they remembered six or nine months later, it was most often only two things: first, that we were nice; and second, they remembered what they told us. I don't know how that compares to your experience with your clients, people you're coaching, but it wouldn't shock me if this rings a bell for you.
Gale:
A lot of both canvassing and coaching is the gift of presence. So, what the canvasser is bringing is presence, and presence is actually a very powerful thing.
Dave:
And why is that?
Gale:
I think it's because of the power of really listening and being listened to - when in normal life we listen so little to each other. We hear and we respond, but I've learned that there's listening for different purposes, and it has a really different impact. When I'm listening to learn, it's a different set of questions I ask, it's a different orientation and energy I have. When I'm listening to connect, it's a different set of questions, it's a different orientation. I think that listening to connect is rare enough in our culture now, and it is the gift of being received that I think is rare enough that it's more memorable.
What I've learned from my coaching—an understanding I brought to the canvassing—is that when people convince themselves, it's much more powerful than anybody outside trying to convince them of anything. So deep canvassing is about giving people the space to convince themselves.
“Deep canvassing is a training ground for the skills of human connection”
Dave:
If you were talking to somebody who, like you, hadn’t canvassed much, what would you tell them so that they might consider trying it?
Gale:
I would ask, "Are you willing to experiment with listening to connect?"
Because that skill will not only enable you to help more people vote; it's going to expand your ability to connect with and understand people in general and as you use that skills elsewhere. So deep canvassing is a training and practice zone for the skills of human connection.
The voter who bought into conspiracy theories
Gale:
The other conversation I remember vividly was with a young African-American woman. We must have stood there for half an hour together, going around and around because she was big into conspiracy theories bordering on the apocalyptic. It was really hard to find a way in. She didn't think her vote mattered; she thought it was all rigged. I finally asked, “Do you think it will make a difference in the future who wins? What'll happen?" And she said, "Well, if Trump wins, we'll probably be at war somewhere."
I said, "Does that matter? I mean, do you want to vote for a better versus a worse future, even though it might not make the difference? Does that matter enough to turn out?" And somehow that was the thing that shifted something for her, because she said, "Well, all right."
After the election, I followed up with her. She told me, "Yes, I did vote. I did vote for Biden, Pennsylvania made a difference. It did matter. Now I hope he does something good."
So, I figured out something that might help us with people susceptible to disinformation: that even if you think it's rigged and it's hopeless and none of it matters, isn’t it worth voting for a slightly better versus a slightly worse future just on the chance that it might make a difference?
Voters who don’t like either candidate
Gale:
Maybe this will also help with voters who have doubts about all politicians. So here’s what I tried out in a recent Virginia state legislative race in 2022, when Virginia’s Governor was trying to elect a majority that would allow him to greatly restrict abortion. I talked with a man. He and his daughter had been sitting inside at the table before he came to the door. When I asked him about his take on things, his first response was, "both seem bad. It feels like there's no good choice." I empathized with him in facing a choice where he didn’t like either option. But when I asked him, "What’s important to you? What would break the tie?" Again, after thinking out loud, it became obvious that one of the things that was important to him was making a choice not just for him, but also for the daughter.
Dave:
The reality is there are a lot of times in life that the choices we have do not include the perfect choice. I think back over the course of my lifetime and most of the time, “Perfect Person” is actually not on the ballot. Imperfect human beings are on the ballot—but they're not equivalent, they're not all the same. What you're inviting them to do is not sit it out because, when they think about it, they're not indifferent to the outcome—
Gale:
And sitting on the sidelines is disempowering.
Dave:
In all kinds of situations in our own lives, we have to accept imperfection, for example when we're looking for a good job with a lousy boss. Perfection is not a frequent feature of everyday life.
Gale:
Yeah. So then why in politics do we feel like we want to be able to endorse everything the candidate is, says, and does?
A compelling reason to canvass; and what campaigns can do to make canvassing seem less daunting
Dave:
If you were talking to me and I'd never canvassed, what else would you want me to think about, so I'd consider trying it?
Gale:
From my perspective as a coach, I would say, anytime you're in your comfort zone, you're not learning.
But you don’t want to go beyond discomfort—you don’t want to feel out of control or anxious, because learning doesn't happen there either. So, are you willing to step into some discomfort, where learning happens?
The next question for each of us is: what is it you need to stay in discomfort but not in so much discomfort that you can't do it? What do you need, and what can the campaign provide so you're in discomfort but not in distress?
I’ll tell you, Dave, part of what you provided in Philadelphia, was a lot of help, even hand-holding, helping everyone take small steps until they knew enough to do it more on their own or paired up with another volunteer. You did a great job of that with me when I was first going out, and that’s the most crucial moment: because that's where it's the tenderest, going out on the streets and actually doing this stuff. That’s what felt challenging. So, to be paired with somebody who was quite comfortable and could see how I was doing was really helpful. If I didn't get something right, I could talk to them right afterwards. Or, if something happened at the door that threw me off, we could talk about that too. That pairing with more experienced people was really valuable.
Dave:
To me, the definition of a well-run campaign is where the people putting it together are so deeply invested in setting up every individual participant to succeed that they are constantly paying attention to who needs help and then giving the help they need. That’s what it takes to help people cope with mild discomfort as opposed to fear. For you, having a buddy sounds like it was the single biggest thing that helped.
That’s why the most important thing is doing this work as part of a community instead of all alone on your own. Because if we had sent you out with no buddy, no warmup, no role play, nobody coaching you that day, no debrief when you come back, no-one checking in to find out how your day went—
Gale:
Or if you had sent me out by myself the first time in a really unfamiliar neighborhood, I'd have found reasons not to come back.
Instead, you eased me in, and the approach includes a buddy, so there’s always someone around to provide some support. That really matters. It makes it both more doable and more enjoyable. I liked meeting and teaming up with other volunteers to cover our patch and share our experiences at the door.
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Note to readers: if you would like to try deep canvassing with Changing the Conversation in Philadelphia, go to their website and sign up for training and a canvass: https://ctc4progress.org/events/
I will be part of their training and coaching team—and I will be canvassing—at every canvass of theirs in July, August, and September, and most or all of them in October and November.
Great interview Dave! Wish I was able to join you in Philly - so appreciate your work and dedication