Yes on 3 — One-Year Anniversary

365 days ago, I cried in a room full of people, and the arms of a friend reached out to grab me. I’m pretty sure he was also crying. Lots of people were. In Massachusetts, 2018, on November 6th, we managed to beat the odds, and at 68%, Yes on 3 passed, preserving protections for transgender people in the grand Commonwealth of Massachusetts. The flood of relief that over two thirds of Massachusetts folks had voted in favor of loving their neighbors, against fearmongering, was absolutely overwhelming to me.

Personally, this was a huge moment for me. I kinda couldn’t believe it. In early September, a friend of mine, Alex, had hijacked one of our hangouts to bring me to a Friends’ meetinghouse in Beacon Hill. I took a leap and cold-called potential volunteers for the campaign to recruit them into the Yes on 3 org. I made strong, specific asks of volunteers to ask them to sign up for shifts, and many said literally, “oh my gosh, I’ve been hoping you would call!” And at the end of the night, I was unsurprised when Josh, an action lead, gave me a strong, specific ask — would I join again next week?

I spiraled quickly into devoting huge amounts of time into the project, and for about six weeks, I was putting in somewhere between 20 and 25 hours per week as a volunteer (and to be clear: I was a latecomer, and I can hardly believe the vast amounts of work put in before I even knew this was a thing). Kat and a couple others recruited me into doing coaching and training for VRPBs — volunteer recruitment phone banks — at the Newbury Street and Jamaica Plain (Keshet crew!) locations. I was pulled into the volunteer leadership Slack, which is still active today. I deliberately ignored any reasonable boundaries, pushing myself relentlessly, knowing that the whole effort would bounded for good or ill, on November 7th.

I absolutely reveled in being surrounded by so many trans adults, trans youth, and amazing allies. Some of these were brief connections in the dark, rainy late October nights and chilly days, but for their brevity were not in anyway trivial. Even the smallest connections I had were important, with both voters and fellow volunteers. Some connections were further-reaching, as well. I got the honor of joining other Yes-on-3’ers later in the year to watch two of our teenage friends in their high-school production of Sweeney Todd. A few of us still even hung out in JP, got dinners, told each other how much value we had added. And no matter what, there are dozens of folks whose memories I will carry with me for the rest of my life, remembering the bravery and leadership of teenagers who took to the streets to make a difference.

And I’m so glad I got to make a difference with these folks. We knew that measures to enact or uphold transgender protections had failed in so many supposedly-friendly jurisdictions because of the fearmongering of hate groups. Every time that a friend told me, “you can’t possibly be worried that this won’t pass, it’s Massachusetts!” I had to remind them of the parable of Austin, TX — where protections had seemed sure to pass, but at the last second support dwindled under the scare-tactics and lies of the opposition. I knew that if I woke up on November 7th to see that we had lost by 49%, I would never forgive myself for not getting involved. And I knew that each percentage point we won by would be a message to the rest of the nation.

So I put in long, cold hours of canvassing, phone banking, and training. I vociferously recruited my friends, and my heart swelled with pride when I got to work with so many of them. I was terrified walking around neighborhoods, talking to strangers. While I was sometimes met with some hostility which stung to the core — one person told me that “transgenders don’t deserve rights,” I was also greeted with warmth and openness to my personhood, and after some discussions was able to feel so loved when people changed their minds from “no” to “yes.” I loved the sharing circles at the ends of actions where we celebrated our successes.

I am so thankful for the work and friendship of my fellows, and for the family we built, even bounded as it was. Despite the fleeting scope of our time together, it was certainly deep and meaningful. I was inspired by teenagers I worked with along the campaign, including 14-, 15-, and 16-year-olds who even ran their own Get-Out-the-Vote centers. The amazing camaraderie of those last few days, the long nights. I’ll never lose the deep fondness I have for the leadership at Newberry and Keshet. So much love to you all, far too numerous to name. I’ll never forget the confidence and honor of the kind words of my colleagues, have already carried them with me through moments of doubt and challenge. I’ll treasure the post-campaign night at MIT, where we hugged and wished each other the best in the future, even if many of us were scattering. That night, we shared rally posters and signed them for each other. I’m framing that rally poster to hang in my room.

This was, by leaps and bounds, the most important project I’ve had the honor of working on. I learned how to make strong asks, sure. But I also got such fulfilling exercise in listening genuinely to people’s feelings and opinions, to make connections with strangers and to draw them in with love. It has inspired me deeply on how I want to continue living my life going forward.

So thanks, folks. We did a solid. I’ll never forget you.

-Alexis