Working the phones for Hillary Clinton: I hope I helped

A man is shouting into my earpiece. "She's a criminal!" "Hillary Clinton is crooked!"

Another man, seated two desks away, is shouting too. Into his mouthpiece, he's saying Donald Trump demonises gay people.

There's a lot of shouting taking place at the phone bank in Hillary Clinton's Campaign HQ, where I'm stationed for two days. My fellow volunteers are furious. In the preceding days, FBI director James Comey effectively jolted the presidential race. Now, Donald Trump is making a comeback. He is resonating with the 64-year old man who is shouting at me from Florida. He has sparked anger and antipathy in the 40-something, jewelled and bearded man who – along with me – is a Democratic Party phone-bank volunteer.

My reason for taking a few days out to campaign for Hillary Clinton is two-fold. When she came to prominence in the 1990s as the US first lady, she was different to any of the women – at least in my memory – who had preceded her. She seemed to care, a lot. She sought to use her position of privilege to influence better outcomes. She didn’t always succeed — remember the failed health care bill she championed — but she tried.

I read about her. She was self-critical. She flip-flopped, particularly in her early days as first lady. She had never really thought that her Alice-band made for a bad photograph. Until she was advised to ditch it, she had simply considered it as a way to keep her hair off her face so she could concentrate on what she was doing. She was hard-working, a bit swotty and litigious in her approach. I liked her. She had made an impression.

But getting down and dirty in the Hillary Clinton campaign was also an opportunity to be part of civil engagement in a game-changing election. Off social media and without a TV blaring in the background, the streets of Manhattan, Brooklyn and Boston – where I divided my past week – did not give the impression an election was taking place.

The ugly, purpose-built billboard sites in the suburbs were mostly blank. There were no canvassers on the street. No bumper car stickers. No posters in front-room windows. I spotted one “I’m with her” button badge in Boston, but otherwise the election campaign was happening in a virtual space.

My initial contact with the campaign was in this virtual space. An online application and divulgence of my social media profiles were handed over for the vetting process. Within 10 days of applying, I received my welcome to “Hillary for America Volunteers” mail and I was on my way.

Plain rude

Over two days, my job was voter mobilisation. The objective was to make as many calls as possible, encouraging people to make a plan to vote.

The phone bank room was tightly packed, with almost 100 volunteers all competing for sound space. Two tables at the back of the room were stacked high with the leftovers from Halloween candy stock. Trays of cup-cakes arrived with motivational words and Hillary slogans. Most people had giant paper coffee cups to hand.

My first brief was to call voters in Florida who had access to early voting polling stations. An elaborate database threw up details of the person I was calling: their name, gender, age, address and where they can go to vote. Considering I was working off the Democratic database, I was surprised at some of the negativity. There was a fair number of hang-ups. Some who picked up were gruff, and some just plain rude.

Lessons in door-to-door canvassing teach you that, when there’s no chance of a vote for your candidate or cause, it is best to close off the conversation politely and move on. This tactic got me through a fair number of hostile calls.

Meanwhile, all around me, volunteers were having it out with potential voters. They knew what was at stake. They were abundantly clear that they want to live in a country where tolerance and a bit of humility is the norm.

I’m not so sure if having it out can really pay off. I kept moving on to the next caller. I connected most with women: mothers who told me their son or daughter would be voting, and they would make sure the vote goes in the right direction.

On my second day when I contacted voters who had chosen to use a postal ballot, the reaction seemed much better. Or maybe it was just that I was in the swing of things by now. I spoke to a lot of older people. I was heartened to hear that the 102-year-old woman I’d called had already voted for Hillary. The woman who told me her husband had been out volunteering for Hillary because he is so “grossed out” by Donald Trump gave me a bit of a laugh. I started to feel under pressure for time-wasting when a man on the phone kept asking me to repeat his family name in my Irish accent.

I enjoyed the company of the – mainly women – volunteers around me. We shared our worst and best moments and passed around the free candy. The election started to feel more serious and more important than I had originally thought. It was with a heavy heart that I had to log off after hundreds of calls and a big insight. I’m still getting my daily email – some authored by Hillary herself – calling on me to come back. This weekend she told me she was PUMPED to have me on her team.

Departing the US on the Boston to London flight over the weekend, I was allocated seat 45D. It was a middle seat in the middle row of a jumbo jet. I travelled blue class, which is the section at the back of the plane where seats are tightly packed. I walked past the gold, silver, sapphire, emerald, ruby and bronze seats to get there.

It was the first time I was on a plane with more comfort seats than regular economy. The occupants of the high-value seats were young, t-shirt wearing, earphone bearing men. They fly around the world and create technology that allows manufacturing to prosper without high labour costs, without factories.

This scenario reminded me that America, and the world, has changed. Emotional intelligence, connecting with people and sharp focus are needed from our world leaders. I'm convinced that Hillary Clinton will offer that when she becomes the 45th president of the United States. She needs to keep America great. For everyone. I hope I helped.

Catherine Heaney is managing director of DHR Communications, based in Dublin. She volunteered for the Hillary Clinton Campaign on November 1st and 2nd at its headquarters in Brooklyn, New York.