How our team discovered deep canvassing
It took 5 organizers, 50 consistent volunteer leaders, and 815 volunteers to discover deep canvassing. It took us almost a year—doorknocking almost every two weeks—to have 5,535 face-to-face conversations before our first breakthrough.
Why did we begin, and why did so many people get involved? Because in 2008, the LGBT community had a wrenching defeat in California. Voters approved Proposition 8, which banned marriage for LGBT couples. Prior to election day, many LGBT people and our close allies assumed we’d win, reassured by public polls that consistently showed us ahead. But our campaign failed to prepare for a sustained disinformation attack campaign—one that amplified fear and built on pre-existing prejudice.
When we lost, many LGBT people felt deeply, personally hurt. What did the loss mean? What did people reallythink of us? Were we deluded to believe prejudice had declined? Could it ever decline?
This is the first part of the Prop 8 story: how we lost in 2008 and began to pick up the pieces in the first quarter of 2009.
On November 12, I’ll post the second part of the Prop 8 story: how we improved, and how we endured that irritating time before we improved.
Then, on November 26, I’ll post the third part, which includes our persuasion breakthrough—then, disaster—and then, in the end, redemption.
The whole story is important because right-wing extremists now routinely use disinformation and prejudice to divide our base and shore up theirs. Everything we learned about how to overcome bigotry and phony “facts”—everything we learned about how to win back some of the voters who got suckered— will prove essential in 2024. For outrageous lying is no longer just a Trump specialty; it is sadly now embraced by most of the Republican Party.
The Prop 8 Story, Part 1
The run-up to election day: most people assumed the pro-LGBT side would win
In May 2008, the California State Supreme Court struck down a ban on same-sex marriage. In June, California began issuing marriage licenses to LGBT couples. Many couples were elated and flocked to City Halls. Celebratory media covered the long lines to tie the knot. We seemed to have won an irrevocable victory.
At the same time, the two most highly regarded non-partisan public opinion polls in the state— the Public Policy Institute of California and the Field Poll—found that every time they checked public opinion, No on 8 (the pro-LGBT side) was ahead.
But, in October, the anti-LGBT “Princes” ad went on the air. To watch it, use this link:
Here is the transcript of the ad.
On screen: a 7- or 8-year-old girl, over-the-top excited, runs into the kitchen to tell her Mom something big.
Daughter: Mom, guess what I learned in school today?
Mom: What, sweetie?
Daughter [in happy sing-song, like an easily indoctrinated dupe]: I learned how a prince married a prince and I can marry a princess!
Close-up on Mom: she’s soap-opera shocked but her fear feels real. Simultaneously, an expert enters the frame.
“Expert” appears on screen [authoritative voice, like an Old Testament prophet]: Think it can’t happen? It’s already happened. When Massachusetts legalized gay marriage, schools began teaching second-graders that boys could marry boys. The courts ruled parents had no right to object. On-screen in large capital letters: NO LEGAL RIGHT TO OBJECT.
Woman’s voice: Under California law, public schools instruct kids about marriage. [Voiceover continues as the screen shows Mom earnestly counselling her daughter.]
Woman’s voice: Teaching children about gay marriage will happen here unless we pass Proposition 8.
[Onscreen text] PROTECT OUR CHILDREN. RESTORE MARRIAGE.
Voiceover that is angry: Yes on 8!
The “Princes” ad decided the election
In the final five-and-half weeks of the Prop 8 campaign, when both sides spent most of their combined $80 million on TV ads, “Princes” was the most frequently broadcast TV ad by either campaign. Its message was largely repeated in all the anti-LGBT Yes on 8 ads, which the average California voter saw 20 to 30 times before election day.
Even more importantly, the “Princes” ad ran for two weeks before our side rebutted it. Not only did some voters believe the ad’s message that their kids were in danger; more and more believed it the longer it went unanswered.
The “Princes” ad beat us with the message that there’s something terribly wrong with LGBT people; that kids are in danger if they learn that we exist. The ad won a 2009 Pollie from the American Association of Political Consultants, the equivalent of an Oscar for political campaign ads. The AAPC cited its “excellence,” which apparently is not a synonym for accuracy. But the ad’s fictional story ripped away parts of our base. It flipped a crucial slice of our voters.
In those crucial weeks when we didn’t respond, the pro-LGBT side, No on 8, hemorrhaged support: 687,000 voters who initially supported marriage for LGBT couples changed their minds. 500,000 of those voters were parents. Our support particularly collapsed among parents with children under 18 at home.
The data shows the ad cost us 687,000 votes. We lost on marriage by fewer than 600,000 votes.
All of this information and the supporting data is included in the “The Prop 8 Report.” It runs 511 pages and, after November 14, I’m glad to share it if you email me at deepcanvass@gmail.com. I wrote The Prop 8 Report in 2009-10 with help from many people, and indispensable help from two: David Caldwell, an extraordinarily smart organizer with a much firmer grasp of statistics than I, and Toph Allen, who created the memorable charts that linked the crucial events on the campaign timeline to our declining standing in the polls as the election loomed. I wrote the report at the request of the No on 8 Executive Committee: Lorri L. Jean, Kate Kendell, Geoff Kors, and Delores Jacobs. I am so grateful that they asked for and wanted a serious, independent campaign evaluation; they invited me to write what I learned, whatever the findings. They also helped me access over 10,000 pages of internal campaign documents and meet one-on-one with key leaders in the campaign. In 2010, I also made a 5-minute video summarizing The Prop 8 Report’s key findings. The video is posted at https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCJvPSDipFCqI1-ot48idgFg
How we began to come back
Yes on 8 killed marriage equality in California for more than four years and divided the LGBT community. At meetings in Los Angeles a month after the election, people were overwhelmingly hurt and angry about the loss. After 31 years of facing the same kind of attack in more than 100 state and local anti-gay ballot measures around the country, we got beat by the same old disinformation that gays hurt kids. Nothing is more demoralizing than losing, except losing repeatedly in the same damn way.
Here’s what we at the Los Angeles LGBT Center did that helped us find a positive way forward. To overcome division, we brought together people who wanted to solve the problem as a team. Because when we solve a problem together, it’s easier to live with the tough process of learning by trial and error—and we had a lot to learn. Teamwork also helped us stay committed even when we hadn’t yet succeeded, and even when we were often outside our comfort zone.
What did it take to pull together a team? In January 2009, the Vote for Equality (VFE) project of the Los Angeles LGBT Center (the predecessor to our current Leadership LAB) went out on a limb. By email, VFE invited people to come together to focus on finding a practical, positive way forward. Making no assumption that the email would magically motivate people to come, the VFE team called every invitee.
The result: on January 25, 2009, 90 leaders and volunteers from the Prop 8 campaign filled the hall at the Hollywood United Methodist Church. The principal chair of the meeting was Regina Clemente, lead organizer at Vote for Equality.
The agenda was simple. Regina invited everyone to say what they thought we ought to do. Immediately, feelings were high, ideas abundant. The most-discussed idea: return to the ballot in 2010 or 2012 for a re-vote.
I offered two ideas that were different. Both sprang from my belief that we needed to learn how to persuade more voters to stand with us and stay with us. Only then would a return to the ballot lead to a better outcome.
My first idea: since the polls and our own expectations overestimated our support, we should go door-to-door in the neighborhoods where we lost, and ask voters why they voted the way they did. I didn’t know if these voters would talk with us. But we could find out by going door-to-door in the neighborhoods where we were crushed on Prop 8.
My second idea was a variation of the first: we could call voters we did know—family, friends, acquaintances—and ask how they voted, and why.
The group of 90 got very excited by the first idea. Quickly there was consensus we should go door-to-door whether or not we knew when we would go back to the ballot.
Then Regina asked the group: what do we want to say to these voters after we listen to them? She invited everyone to add their ideas: people clamored to speak, then listened raptly as the pent-up energy and desire to do better made the room feel electric. Using an easel pad, Regina and I wrote down everyone’s ideas. Regina was clear we would keep this list and try every idea, one by one, until we found what changed voters’ minds. We would learn by trial-and-error until we hit the jackpot. After an hour of brainstorming, we had more than 100 different ideas; almost everybody had a hunch or two. Though some of the ideas would surely fail, we had plenty to try.
Then, we helped the team commit to action, not just discussion
At this point in the meeting, Regina then offered to turn all these ideas into reality. She, her two field organizers Laura Gardiner and Alek Miller, and the volunteer team at Vote for Equality (VFE) were willing to organize the critical logistics, team communications, and recruitment of more people to help, taking responsibility for getting the first canvass off the ground. Then, Regina asked the group when they wanted to start. They quickly picked February 14. Virtually everyone in the room committed to participate in the Valentine’s Day canvass.
Preparing for the Valentine’s Day canvass
To get ready to doorknock to find anti-LGBT voters, we had a lot to do: pick our first neighborhood; create lists of the voters we’d seek out; write a script; plan and rehearse a training; obtain supplies, food and coffee; put together materials; and follow up with each volunteer to confirm they’d show and to help them carpool. I can’t give enough credit to Regina, Laura, Alek and VFE volunteer leaders. They got everything ready.
One of the most creative ideas that came out of that prep time was what the script should look like. Most canvasses have scripts where every voter response has to fit into a box, usually yes, no, or unsure/ don’t know. But Alek had the idea for something better: he made a key part of the script a tracking sheet that looked like this:
____________
____________
____________
____________
On the first blank line, we would write what we said. On the second, we’d try to get word-for-word what the voter said in response.
Similarly, the third line was for what we said next; on the fourth, the voter’s response to that. Al’s insight was that we would never understand these voters unless we listened closely to what they said.
Thus was borne our first system to track what we learned. Capturing the spirit of January 25, it meant all of us would contribute to the learning. When we debriefed as a group at the end of every canvass, we could much more easily compare what the voters said and whether any of our responses struck a chord.
The day of the first canvass
On the morning of February 14, there was fear in the training room as well as excitement. We were about to go door-to-door, talking overwhelmingly with people who had just voted against us. All of us would be coming out at every door, the LGBT volunteers disclosing our sexual orientation and gender identity, the straight volunteers coming out as people who deeply cared for LGBT people. We had no idea how the voters would receive us. Would they slam the door or talk with us?
And, if the voters were honest with us, did we have it in us to listen to them?
Nobody knew. None of us had ever done anything like this before. I remember thinking, this is the smartest idea I’ve ever had in my life, to go back to the voters and ask why they voted against us. But I wasn’t feeling smug: having been on the losing side of many campaigns, I should have thought of this idea twenty-five years earlier! Only the desperation after Prop 8 pushed me to think beyond my own habits.
So we canvassed for three hours, then came back together to eat pizza and share what happened. Everyone had big feelings, largely positive. The voters were surprised but willing to speak. Many had never met an openly LGBT person or supporter.
Just as important, our folks found it in themselves to rise to the occasion. Face-to-face with people who were more human than we expected, each of us was more human in return. It was scary but also fun—almost like eavesdropping, hearing something we never thought we’d hear.
Throughout the debrief, it dawned on us: had we done this before the election, things might have been different. At the very least, we wouldn’t have been so stunned by the loss.
But we also realized that we didn’t yet know how to change voters’ minds. Voters raised three common objections: religion, tradition, and children. How long would it take us to learn how to respond? We didn’t know. So the team committed to keep coming back. That day, we started planning the next three canvasses.
Note to readers
I realize I’ve left you with a cliffhanger, because we did not discover deep canvassing the first time we canvassed! But don’t worry, you’ll soon get the rest of the story.
I bet it will surprise you. It certainly surprised me.