I found my utopia in Iowa: the little things I remember from my time as an organizer for Barack Obama in Iowa and beyond, beginning in March of 2007.
My daily routine of boiling hot water in the electric kettle so that I could do the dishes with warm water.
Summer Sunday softball games against the other regional offices.
Holiday gift exchange, sledding and going out for Chinese food with our regional office on Christmas Day.
Late night dumpster diving for office furniture.
Weekend bike rides with local elected officials and RAGBRAI, Iowas famous week-long bike across the state, with one of my adopted moms.
Late nights with local artists making Obama art.
Waiting patiently every day for what I called Christmas time: The gift of being able to see the number of Obama supporters I had reached or spoken to from the day before, sent to me in a beautifully organized excel spreadsheet.
Training Sara and myself on how to make the perfect volunteer ask: “If someone says no, before you make the next call, quickly think about what you could have said differently to get a ‘yes’.”
Taking call time next door to the nail salon so Sara and I could have Obama O’s painted on our toes.
Maria driving an old ice cream truck without reverse for one of the countless weekend parades while Sharon performed her Obama song out the back.
Calling to wake up the local pizza delivery boy to save me from my terrible sense of direction and help me make walk packets that made sense geographically.
Crushing on the Habitat for Humanity manager and convincing him to build us a giant Obama “O” on wheels for our weekend parades.
Borrowing a large papier-mâché donkey head from the local college’s costume design professor to use at parades.
Convincing the endless women coming in for tickets to our first Oprah event to make cookies if they were really that unwilling to make calls or knock on doors …
… And thus creating the Morning Cookie Wrap and Nightly Cookie Drop events.
Middle-of-the-night milkshakes at the 24-hour diner with my volunteer-turned-co-worker-turned-boyfriend.
Yelling Kurt Vonnegut quotes between offices with Matt.
Cyrus changing my African Americans for Obama button to an Everybody for Obama button.
Trying to lighten the mood when visiting my boss in her office by tickling her feet that were always propped up on a chair sticking out just below her desk.
My dad calling me very nervously about how worried he was for us because of our poor poll numbers.
My fear of talking to large groups of people and saying the wrong thing in front of press, and then not talking to my boss for two days after being told I was the organizer that would be introducing Obama, something that was a great privilege to most but a large ball of anxiety for me. For the record, I am now very grateful for and am no longer scared of talking in front of large groups of people.
Tea with the local American Association of University Women chapter and not being able to convince them to support Obama instead of Edwards but somehow convincing them to house all our interns. We were given as many interns as we could find free housing for.
My dad and sister visiting for Thanksgiving and going to my adopted Obama moms’ home.
Running to the mall after four hours of canvassing to catch the last 15 minutes of shopping time with Clare Bear.
Convincing my adopted moms’ that canvassing in the middle of a blizzard is fun and obviously mandatory.
Waking Anna up in the middle of the night to listen to Michelle Obama speeches on repeat.
My dad calling after we won the caucus so happy he was crying, saying, “You were right, I should have listened to you. The polls were wrong.”
My boss calling me and telling me for the first time that she loved me after we won the caucus.
I fell in love with two young men that year. But looking back now, the Utopia was really that I was in love with all of you. Deeply and madly in love with every single one of the people I met and worked with in Iowa. And that kind of love I am not sure I have the right words to explain.
Although I am not that high on life anymore, and don’t think I ever will be again, the people I met during that year in Iowa remain some of my best friends in life and the experience I had I wish for every 20-something year-old. It made me a better person. I believe it made all of us better people.
Anna and I visited my host parents from Idaho in Malawi after we won the general election. I visited Lyzzo in Senegal during her two-year Peace Corps service and she has since visited me in Israel.
My father was diagnosed with cancer in the fall of 2011. I was home in Vermont for my 29th birthday taking care of him. Sara organized my present, “The 29 States of Shira,” a collage of 29 states with little quotes and memories from all my Obama friends. It was hand delivered by English, one of my organizers from Virginia who came to visit.
After my father passed away, Victoria, Clare, John M. and Anna piled into a car and drove the seven hours from DC to Vermont for my father’s memorial.
And after I quit my job working for the administration and moved back to Vermont to empty out my late parents’ house, Katie, Mara and Victo met me there for the first 48 hours of organizing.
My adopted moms from Iowa made me a rainbow Obama quilt after we won the general election in 2008. The following year me, my sister, and my dad spent New Year’s eve with them in Florida. And after my father passed they also came to Vermont and helped me organize my parents’ things.
I have or have had intimate friendships with people who had never been friends with a Jewish person, who grew up in foster care, who struggle with anxiety and eating disorders, who suffer from epilepsy, with Black people, Asian people, Muslims, gay people and bisexuals. I can’t think of any other space where I would have had the opportunity to work and live so intimately with such a diverse group of people than on Obama’s campaign, and for that I am forever grateful.
I live in Israel now with my partner and his two children. I struggle with the political situation here and currently in the U.S. a great deal. I have dreams of someday speaking Hebrew and Arabic and living in a multicultural community. For now, I bake and cook, listen to podcasts, study Hebrew and occasionally write. It is a much quieter life, and I am thankful for that.
My door is always open, here in Ajami, Israel or in Vermont in the summers.
Keep fighting the good fight or simply get to know your neighbors and remember:
“Do not take the entire world on your shoulders. Do a certain amount of skylarking, as befits people your age. ‘Skylarking,’ incidentally, used to be a minor offense under Naval Regulations. What a charming crime. It means intolerable lack of seriousness.” Kurt Vonnegut