Hooray for Trees

Several weeks ago, my doorbell rang. At the door was a goofy, hand-waving young man carrying a clip board and wearing a stupid blue shirt with the words "Environment North Carolina". He asked me for my money.

The interaction certainly filled me with rage (he works for the organization that I just quit- see blog posts with keywords "canvassing", "terrible job", and "holy shit, I want to kick a baby"). But I was more amazed at how withdrawn I felt from the experience- even though he was doing exactly what I did just a few months earlier. It was almost as if my doorstep visitor was from another planet. And for a brief moment, I thought: how does someone even get into that line of work?

And then I remembered.

This week is the annual brainwashing week for all salaried employees of the non profit organization Environment America in Boston, Massachusetts. A week when young, malleable-minded individuals hop on planes, trains, and buses from all over the country and converge on the city where a bunch of rascals hurled some tea into the water several hundred years earlier.

There will be extensive "training"- roleplays followed by roleplays in subjects ranging from "how to map a legislator's sources of influence" to "how to conduct press calls before a news conference". There will be speakers- various state-level advocates, fellows who have lasted several years in the organization, and maybe even a low-level local politician desperate to harness the organization's canvassing arm for their benefit. Trainees will practice introducing themselves, shaking hands, and grinning like an idiot.

At night, there will be organized social events, so trainers can analyze conversations and character in a Sam Adams soaked environment. Watching to see where each of the new crop of employees will fit best.

And at the end of the week, returning employees will trudge back to their offices ready to endure another year of hellish mistreatment and soul-depleting heirarchy. And the new employees will get placed in various offices around the country, each swelling with idealism and eager to tackle the challenges that lie just beyond the reach of Environment America's organizational rigidity. And in two, six, or twelve months down the road, most of them will have been deflated like a balloon, either quitting or just going through the motions because they have no time or energy to break the mold.

Last year, more than 40 people headed to Boston in August. Only about 7 remain. The year before, a similar proportion lasted that long. And this year will probably be similar.

So its easy to see how someone could get sucked in and wind up on your doorstep begging for money. Its the feeling of worth you get training with an organization that aligns with your ideals (atleast on paper). Its the feeling of camaraderie from working with so many other people who are in the same boat at the same time. And it is the calm before the storm of a year otherwise spent in confusion, misery, and anger.

I hope some of them end up enjoying their job- they certainly will be the minority. And for the rest of them who are still trucking through, my hats off to ya.

-Dave

Nutty Survey

A research company conducting a survey called the house last night...

Being such a model citizen, and interested in how the public retains information from the news, I agreed to participate. The voice on the other end of the telephone, began to read me questions from her computer screen (The parallels between her job and canvassing are eerie- if for no other reason, one should participate to make sure the surveyor can get a "hot night" and not be fired for surveying too few people)...

...How closely did you pay attention to coverage about the following stories from the news this week? (Very closely, somewhat closely, not very closely, not at all)
Sup Ct Nominee Sonya Sotomayor hearings
Healthcare reform
Bombing in Indonesia
Michael Jackson

What do you think about the amount of news coverage for each of these stories? (Way too much, somewhat too much, the right amount, somewhat too little, way too little)

With regards to healthcare reform, do you think the issue is:
Important?
Interesting?
Difficult to understand?

...and then all of the sudden...

...Do you eat a lot of nuts?

Quite obviously, I froze up. Do I eat a lot of nuts? Where the hell did that come from?

"Uhhh...yes", I responded, ready to hear a friend's voice to barge in on the other end of the telephone and start laughing. But the surveyor just kept on plowing through the questions on her computer screen...

Do you think some nuts are healthier than others?

How often do you eat nuts?

Do you consider nuts a special treat?

Do you eat pistachios? walnuts? cashews? pecans?

After a few minutes, she asked me some demographic questions and then ended the call. I'm sure there is a perfectly good explanation about that survey, and I cannot wait to see the results of someone's study linking political receptiveness to consumption of nuts. But I couldn't help but think that it was a fairly awkward transition.

-Dave

Jigglin' for Change

It goes by many names: the street shake, the beggar bounce, the retard rock. But the official name is the canvass jiggle. And its awkward as hell...

For those of us who are in (or have recently been in) the world of environmental non-profits, its the bread n' butter of daily life. When we are sent out to the streets to raise money for the organization (aka canvass), it is the best way to look excited and get people to contribute to the cause (aka act like a huge douche and beg people for money).

From an outside perspective, its that thing that alerts you to the fact that the guy in the stupid t-shirt begging for money is a giant taint. It looks quite odd.

First, said taint puts his/her weight on the balls of their feet and lightly bounces up and down to the rhythms of their presentation. Of course, this almost makes it sound graceful, which it most certainly is not. This presentation is highly scripted, so the canvassing jiggle is really more of a douchey regurgitation than an improvisational dance. If you watch it long enough, you most certainly will throw up.

Second, the canvasser's hands join the party. At this point, he/she will have somehow found a way to get their clipboard into your hands. You will see their frantic spasms from the corner of your eye as you try to pretend to seem interested in what they are talking about. Its painful to watch, but impossible to ignore- kindof like watching someone get hit by a car...repeatedly.

Finally, the canvasser will finish up with their presentation and smile (in the field, we call it a "rap", though its considerably more painful to listen to- almost like the song Butterfly by Crazy Town). Its usually a horrendously cheesy smile, depending on how well the canvasser was trained. It will most likely want to make you kick a baby, but somehow you will probably just force a smile back.

Obviously, the exchange can go on and on, depending on how swiftly you can say "NO. I dont want to give you any money." (Try saying "I'll think about it" or "hmmm, maybe" to a canvasser. That is the equivalent of saying "please ask me to give you money again"). But I digress. You have witnessed the canvass jiggle. These three elements in harmony climb to the top of the douchebaggery meter (right up there with fanny packs and Adam Brody from "The O.C.")

Evolution certainly has some peculiarities. Peacocks, although beautiful, look ridiculous as they fan out their feathers and flash beauty at those around them. Porcupines can go to town killing animals in the forests, but have to be careful when getting intimate with other porcupines. An canvassers, for some unknown reason, have evolved these traits to distinguish themselves from the other people who beg for change on the streets. Its not to say that they are bad, or even the organizations they work for are (gulp), but their tactics sure are.

So, for those of you who are still in it, I hope you know you look ridiculous when you do the shake. And for those of you who are still scratching your heads, go hang out in a busy spot where canvassers are likely to roam. Don't worry, if you are assertive you wont have to give. But you will have to deal with some awwwkkkwardd shit. And you will know it when you see it

-Dave

Meals on Wheels

A funny thing happened on my way home tonight.

It was "pizza night" for the canvass team- for those unfamiliar with canvassing or pizza night, it will suffice to say that we are rewarded with a free piece of pizza (net value: $2.50) for knocking on people's doors and begging for money all day (net value: -1 soul).

We were all sitting around the table attempting to hold a normal conversation (interactions between canvassers are usually limited to "rap practice", where you go back and forth repeating the same 10 lines until your cheeks go numb. "Hi, My name is David and I'm with Environment Massachusetts..."). More often than not, "normal conversation" is just a discussion of the day's canvassing, but with a few curse words and indie music references thrown in. These interactions are painfully awkward and are generally akin to drinking a glass of OJ immediately after brushing your teeth- it still tastes like toothpaste.

For some reason tonight, there was an uncharacteristic miscalculation that left one extra piece of pizza. Rather than force down the extra slice, we decided to "make a contribution" to whichever homeless person we saw first.

About 3 blocks up the road, we spotted a gentleman sleeping under the awning of a store. Since the police would probably wake him up in a matter of hours, we decided not to disturb him, but rather to leave the pizza box with the leftover slice at his side. As we walked towards the train station, we looked back to check and see if our footsteps had woken him up.

Just as we turned around, a woman on a wheelchair flew by and stopped at the sleeping man's side. She grabbed the pizza box and rolled away before any of us even knew what to say.

It is difficult to judge who needed the pizza more, but it was a series of events that developed rapidly and still have me scratching my head. In retrospect, I don't know whether I should have chased her down (maybe thrown a stick in one of her spokes) and gotten the pizza back, or if I should be glad that atleast someone was enjoying our excess.

Atleast we have something normal to talk about for next pizza night.

-Dave