I spent 3 months as a Census worker. I was threatened, cursed at, and kicked off many front porches, but still did my best to make sure every resident was counted.

Although his interview questions only took a few minutes, Vincent Lacey says some days felt like one giant door slammed in his face.

Vincent Lacey asking Census questions to a homeowner in Los Angeles. Photo: Vincent Lacey

By Vincent Lacey

As I approached the property, a sign stared back at me. It had a picture of a gun pointed directly at my face and read, “NEVER MIND THE DOG. BEWARE OF OWNER.” I took a deep breath. I mean, I get the humor. No one wants to be the unsolicited visitor, especially in the midst of a worldwide pandemic.

In this line of work, it’s best to assume the worst and hope to be pleasantly surprised. Still, in the past three months working for the US Census, I’ve been threatened, cursed at, and kicked off more front porches than I’d like to admit.

As a writer/actor/comedian who finds most corporate environments repugnant, I’ve had a lot of jobs in my life. Outside of my artistic pursuits, I’ve worked with several nonprofits in leadership and recruiting, and I was in the middle of pursuing a certificate at UCLA this year when the pandemic hit.

Working for a mission-driven enterprise with a flexible schedule seemed like a great fit. The…