My thoughts on Evil

We've heard a lot in the past week about evil. With the horrific shooting in a Connecticut elementary school  killing 26 innocent people; many of them very young children, its not particularly surprising that term has been bandied about. By the media, by pundits, by people on the street; even by the vice-President of the NRA - who spoke of 'good guys' v. 'bad guys' and the evil person who committed these crimes - in a terrifying show of just how outrageous the US gun lobby is (more on that later...).

But I don't believe in evil; not in this sense anyway. Call me idealistic, but I do not believe we can term people 'good' and 'evil'. I passionately feel that humanity is essentially good, but that some are corrupted by outside influences - taking from Blake, they are born innocent, but through experience become corrupted. Some commit acts that are unspeakable, disgusting and awful - but they are not evil. Talking in the absolutes of good and evil shuts down all discussion; it allows us to say 'this person is evil, was always evil, and therefore we have no duty to assess why they committed these acts, or what we could have done to prevent them'. If we label someone evil, then we feel justified in locking them away with no attempt to rehabilitate them or; in the case of the US and other countries around the world, kill them in state sanctioned execution chambers. We feel justified and vindicated.

Talking in these dichotomies harks back to a time when religion ruled the world; when explanation was unnecessary in the face of absolute faith. The Christian religion, and the Catholic church in particular, were very good at shutting down all discussion by talking about Evil. They could simply say this is wrong, it is wrong because it is evil, and there is no need for further discussion. In an age where we are bombarded with knowledge every day, where we are consistently cynical, it is against the grain to do the same. Unfortunately, tabloid headlines, talk show discussions and broadcast news regularly label people as evil. I understand it, its easier then suggesting society had something to do with it, that perhaps we need to look at ourselves and our culture, that perhaps there were underlying issues with this person.

With evil, we can lock someone away and ignore them, without feeling guilty. They won't ever change, so why should we help them. I, however, believe in redemption, in rehabilitation, in the possibilities for everyone to be good. We need to begin to see crime as a product of society or of mental instability; petty theft usually comes from poverty and a poor education, horrific murders often come from underlying mental health issues that have long been left untreated. These people are not innately evil; yes, they have committed wrong and should be punished, but they should be given the chance to show that they are good again.

Where does this fit into the debate about guns? Well, unfortunately, the US gun lobby still talks this way. Yes, it blames violent video games and movies (perhaps something we should look at - although in many other countries this isn't such a problem), but it still talks of good guys v bad guys. And this is shrewd for their motives. If people believe that there is evil out there, evil that cannot be changed, then they will feel the need for protection. And so, buy guns. Buy hundreds of guns, with thousands of rounds of ammunition, because there is nothing else they can do. They will believe that guns are not bad, in fact guns are good, they just happen to turn evil in the hands of those we label evil. That is why they suggest 'good guys' should be in schools with guns; because crime only comes from those who are evil, we can trust everyone else with guns. At best naive, at worst incredibly dangerous.

And it suits their interests further not to look at the underlying causes of violent crime. The wealthy who are in charge of the NRA would never suggest that poverty or lack of opportunity create crime lest their wealth is redistributed to help people. The relative cheapness and ease of access to guns only compounds the problem; in the UK we have the same problems of disgusting wealth inequalities, gangs and lack of opportunity - but our rates of violent crime are far lower.

So, this Christmas period, lets not talk of evil. Lets talk of the things we can do in society to give people a chance, to help them, to give them something to aspire to that isn't gang membership or gun ownership. And let's see the best in people; that every single person in this world has the capacity and capability to be exceptional, to succeed, to be good.

Being Home

I've now been home for over a week. I've spent a lot of this week catching up with friends, answering the same questions with all of them; 'How was it?', 'Did you have an amazing time?', 'Do you love America?', 'When are you going back?' and, my favourite right now, 'What are you doing next?'.

I don't resent people asking; in fact, it is a great opportunity for me to chew their ears off and talk endlessly about how brilliant everything about my time in America was. A good friend asked me while we were driving down to Brighton how my time was and what I did - I continued to speak about it for the entire hour and a half journey. But, most of the time, the question is asked in a situation in which I cannot speak for that long; and so I can't capture just how wonderful it was. My vague attempts to say 'it was the greatest experience of my life' clearly falls on interested ears; but in that one sentences I cannot convey how much I learnt, how many wonderful people I met, the way it changed me, the immense feeling of pleasure and happiness at victory. I want these people, these wonderful people who are interested in what I have done, excited for me, pleased at my success to be able to share in the experiences that I have had - but they cannot.

This is perhaps the hardest part of going away for a longer period and returning - you have had incredible experiences that have changed you; experiences that you have not shared with others at home. These changes, to them, have come from an alien place and, if you are not careful, could result in a change in your relationships if not handled well. Luckily, I feel I have a fantastic group of friends around me who are willing to see that America has changed me, definitely for the better, but that I'm still the person they knew underneath.

Unfortunately, my bank balance and lack of transport means that I can't surround myself with these friends at all times - leaving periods of unemployment that are hard to fill adequately. Going from three months of constant stimulation to very little is incredibly hard to deal with. So, I'm attempting to answer that question 'What's next?'.

I went to America feeling like I knew what I was going to do next. I come back knowing much better what it is I am good at, but having less of an idea how I best want to utilise these skills. Currently applying for campaigns jobs with charities - I need to work with people, for something I believe in, and in a role that challenges me every day. I'm pretty sure I want it to be in London - a place I very much need to move into asap for my sanity, dating and social life - but I'm not averse to other parts of the country/world. I guess that's what this time is for. To compute everything I did, find jobs I want to apply for and start living my home life again.

That - and using the excuse of seeing people again as a reason to spend too much money and go and enjoy the Christmas season with them. Which I've probably done enough already in 9 days... 

Farewell America

So, here it is. My final few hours in America. I've so far been able to stave off the tears, but I fear that's not going to last for long. Has it really only been three months? For some reason it feels like I've been here forever. Fairfax genuinely feels like home. The friends I've made feel like they've been friends for a really long time. Yes, three months has flown by when I think of it, but when I consider everything I've done here - well, how I packed that into less than 90 days I will never know.

This has, so far, been the greatest experience of my life. And it is the perfect end to a year that has, quite literally, changed me beyond recognition. I have learnt more about myself in three months than I have for a very long time, understanding that I work best when dealing with people; that I function well under pressure and that I can keep myself incredibly motivated if it is for something I believe in. That I can make friends quickly in any situation I find myself. That I am happiest, truly happiest, when I am busy; when I have a cause; when I'm surrounded by people that value my work, friendship and energy. That I can be trusted to get the work done, even with insanely short deadlines and incredibly pressurised environments. I rose to the challenge every time and, although could have been calmer, I succeeded at every chance. I am utterly proud of myself for what I achieved here in Northern Virginia.

But my greatest achievement was not at work. Not entirely. The thing I am most proud of is the number of wonderful friends I have made (OK, here come the tears...). As a social animal, making friends is something I have never really struggled with, but the bonds I have built with a good number of people will endure for a long time. I have a new family in the Johnson's, the most wonderful people I could ever have hoped to work for and spend time with. I have friends ranging in age from 20 to 86. I have relationships with people from California to Georgia. I have met soul mates. I have friends in professions I didn't even know existed. I know that I will see many of them again; I am more sure of this than most things.

And I will be back. There is no doubt about it. Whether in a year or five, I will return to Fairfax and reunite with old friends. A part of me hopes a job in Washington, DC will appear and I can live here, at least for a few years, but I won't hold out for it. I have fallen in love with America, I can't quite place why, but I have. I will find it incredibly difficult to know that my friends will move on, find other campaigns to be a part of, find other interesting people to meet. But, with an ever shrinking world, and global communications a common reality, I am sure that we will remain in touch.

For now, though, I will keep the memories of everything we did together safely in my mind. Because they are incredibly powerful memories, filled with happiness, excitement, love, passion and dedication. And I will remain excited about seeing all of my wonderful friends and family back home. I can't wait to see them, to share my experiences with them, to make more memories, to rekindle great friendships and to make new ones.

There really is nothing more important to me in this world than the friendships and relationships I make. These I will treasure above all things.

New Orleans - shattering my romantic dreams

Now, don't get me wrong; I do love this city and what it stands for. I fell in love with it almost as soon as I started wandering around the French Quarter, listening to wonderful musicians on the street corners and the beautiful views of the Mississippi as it winds its way round to the Gulf. What really cemented my love was a night out on Frenchmen Street (the clued up tourists' hang-out). With people I had just met on the Streetcar - not named Desire unfortunately - I found myself in a bar called the Spotted Cat. Here, and in many places on the street, a truly exceptional jazz band played while people drank and danced. I met a group of people from California who immediately became great friends - if only for an hour. Listening to that music and soaking up the atmosphere, I realised how wonderful this hotch-potch town could be.

However, that realisation came with a tinge of sadness. Sadness because I feel like New Orleans is past its glorious heyday of easy-going, exceptional people from all walks of life ready to experience incredible food, music and dancing. Walking the streets of the French Quarter at night you can see this loss of the romantic world conjured up by writers and musicians for decades. Loud, brutish, mostly white wealthy people come to Bourbon street not to delve into its history, but to drink themselves stupid on outrageous cocktails and stumble around the streets drunk in a fashion worse than many a Brighton hag-do. Hassled at every opportunity by people selling trashy rubbish or women on the streets trying to get you into disgusting looking strip joints, I couldn't help but feel disappointed. I can't fault the people of New Orleans - incredibly friendly, interesting and vibrant - for catering to these people; a city so dependent on tourism has to adapt to what is wanted. But it really did just make me sad.

A good example of this is the number of large groups of men staying at the hostel who aren't interested in the depth of culture that New Orleans has to offer - they simply want to get pissed, get laid and get high. Perhaps I'm missing something and I'm just a square; but I want to be here to enjoy myself and throw myself into the culture of the city, not worry about walking through the main thoroughfares for fear of being set upon by wasted ass-holes. Here was an example of everything I despise about wealthy western culture - an attitude that simple says, 'We have the money, you do what we want'.

Luckily, the city is saved by those places outside the French Quarter. Frenchmen Street, though becoming another Bourbon, is currently an incredibly exciting place with bars offering good beer and fantastic music - and people who want to enjoy this properly. Even if you get off the main tourist parts of the Quarter you can find something good - Preservation Hall is a jazz-Mecca and there is some wonderful food to be had if you look hard enough. A trip on the St Charles Streetcar to the Garden District and Magazine Street also brings you to beautiful neighbourhoods, chic boutiques and fabulous bars and restaurants untouched by the masses that descend on Bourbon Street. 


Historically, New Orleans is fascinating, with its mix of French, Spanish, British, African and American influences - but I bet the majority of people visiting here don't know that. Its architecture, its food, its music and its entire ethos stem from this mix; when you have lived with so many different types of people and cultures how can you be anything but easy-going and liberal. Perhaps its liberal attitudes to alcohol, sex and other of life's vices are its downfall; when you're one of few areas that allow alcohol on the streets you're bound to get some people going too far. Unfortunately, though, these people are the ones that come and take-over for a few days, paying no attention to cultural heritage and then leaving; not the wonderful, caring, interesting people of the city itself. 

I came to New Orleans with the romantic vision of a place packed with wonderful food, music and culture that writers such as Tennessee Williams and songs by jazz musicians evoke. I leave with a feeling that I've done my best to experience this before it is ruined  for good by white, western, wealthy tourism as so many places are. 

Beards and Beer

Philadelphia. The city of Brotherly Love in which the 13 colonies declared their independence from Great Britain and signed the Constitution into existence. A city obsessed with Ben Franklin. Where high crime rates scare off foreign tourists (to their disadvantage) and young artists come to explore their art, music, theatre, dance in a city much calmer than New York.

I loved my four days in Philly. Gorging on inordinate amounts of food (Philly Cheesesteaks - wow), drinking copious levels of good beer, exploring the history of America and wandering past stunning museums and art galleries; there really is a hell of a lot to do in a city that is ignored by many. I was here to experience the city with a friend, a relatively new friend, who's had a pretty tough time of it lately, but for whom my love and friendship has rapidly blossomed.

As I've said before, there's something to be said for travelling alone. You get to follow your own schedule, see your own sights and meet fellow travellers along the way. But, there is also something to be said for experiencing somewhere with a good friend, a good friend who can show you the best places; the places that aren't on any tourist map. I was introduced to other friends, taken to exciting bars and restaurants, and at every turn given a great run down of why this area was important, different, exciting. I enjoyed it and fell into the tour so much that, when given two hours alone, I forgot how to be a single traveller and went and hid in a Starbucks with a coffee! Being in a foreign country and having travelled alone, the importance of strong friendships have become clear to me. To cultivate this wonderful friendship has been a blessing.

But now, to a few of my observations:

• Men have beards. Seriously. Beards everywhere. I, a man partial to some facial fuzz, was very excited at the prospect of so many bearded bears in the Gayborhood. I wasn't disappointed.
• Much of social and cultural interaction in Philly revolves around beer and food. Perhaps why I felt so at home there?
• The American grid system of streets makes navigation SO much easier. Yes, I know straight streets are boring - especially when they're called '1st' or '2nd' - but at least you ALWAYS know where you are or where to go.
• The city has a big heart. You can see it in the food, in the history, in the streets. It is a beautiful city, with an incredible skyline and wonderful views, but it is not pretentious in being so. It says to the world, 'I'm beautiful, but I want you to come and see the whole me'. A refreshing change from New York City - where beauty is somewhat skin deep.

I also spent a morning wandering around the campus of UPenn (breathtaking) with someone who has, rapidly, become very important to me. A fellow Fairfax campaigner, we grew extremely close in the last few weeks of the election. His values, intelligence, sense of humour; it combines into a truly special person (with a pretty amazing Philly beard) that I am incredibly pleased to have known. Unfortunately, the natural development cannot take place - due to that blue mass perched between our countries - but I'm sure that, in him, whilst I may not have found a permanent feature of my life; I have found a dear friend and soulmate. Our shared experiences will forever bring us close together and I will remain thankful for the time we did have. And to experience a bit of Philly with him - well, it just made me love the city even more. 

And so, to New York City

A whirlwind of culture, vistas, art, history, comedy, bright lights and more - so much has been written about New York. A city of millions; where even a walk ten blocks will take you into wildly different neighbourhoods. I never believed I could feel so comfortable alone in such a giant city - but I do. In much the same way as London; people are crammed into the streets and buildings, but you easily find public spaces where you can relax and take stock.

I spent my first day exploring the bright lights and crazy atmosphere of midtown, around Broadway and the infamous Times Square - popping into Grand Central Station and the New York Public Library for good measure. Being a Wednesday, I really wanted to get myself some tickets to a matinee show on Broadway - but not one of the big ridiculous musicals, something more intimate and exciting. So, there I was, in a huge line at the TKTS stall when I asked a woman what I should see. She went through a number of options, finally settling on a zany, Python-esque show called Peter and the Starcatcher; suggesting the cheapest ticket they'd have was $60. My interest piqued, but my wallet screaming, I asked whether there was any other way to see it? And lo, the lottery was mentioned! At the box office, two hours before, you could place your name in a hat and, if picked, buy a seat for $27. I rushed to the office, put my name in the hate and returned half an hour later for the reading. With 28 seats available, and only ten people in line, I was guaranteed a cheap seat and boy, was it worth it. A spectacular, heart warming, beautiful and rapid take on the back story to Peter Pan - with actors multi-rolling and some truly hilarious moments - I sat in the second row completely attentive for the entire show. Add to this the opportunity to meet a few great people in the line (one of which I went out for dinner with the next night) and this $27 was utterly worth it. Apparently many shows have this, so, if you're on broadway - check it out. Don't pay full price!!

I spent the evening of my first day catching up with a friend who I last saw two years ago in Bangladesh. There is something so spectacular about meeting up with someone after two years of relatively little contact and realising that you still have an incredible amount in common. Over a couple of glasses of wine and dinner, we chatted for a good three hours about the campaign, politics, our lives, boys - pretty much everything.

My second day was spent exploring the incredible vistas of New York City. From the 9/11 memorial; a moving and emotional tribute to those that died and the world that changed, I went on to take the Staten Island Ferry. A completely free way of seeing the incredible views of Manhattan and the Statue of Liberty, it was a great trip and, on a sunny and windy day, well worth doing. Next, I wandered the streets of Greenwich village - exploring the places where the struggle for gay rights began - and moved on to the High Line. A remarkably calm stretch of parkland positioned 3 stories above the streets of the West Side, strolling here was incredible tranquil and the views of streets and the Hudson were wonderful. I then moved on to the big one, the Empire State Building. I went expecting crowds, I was lucky. I didn't queue at all, paying my $25 and being able to spend at least half an hour at the top just soaking in the romantic and breathtaking views across the skyscrapers to New Jersey and beyond. It would have been wonderful to share it with someone special, but the silence and beauty I experienced were unparalleled in the city. And finally, I ended my day with a stroll along the Brooklyn Bridge, standing in the middle as the sun set, taking in the skyline as it turned from day into night - a brilliant, neon aura engulfed many of the most famous buildings. It was wonderful.

With tiredness in my feet, I decided a relatively easy day was needed for my third and final full day in the city. Beginning with a tour of the United Nations Headquarters, I went for a political and cultural tour. The UN has a very special place in my heart, and to see the Security Council Chamber and General Assembly, where so many important decisions have been taken, wars averted and humanitarian crises managed was humbling. Yes, the UN sometimes has problems being dominated by western powers, but it is a grand institution for peace, and we are a much safer world with it. I then went for an exploration of the Met. It was crowded and busy, but well worth it. Avoid the suggested donation of $25 and pay what you wish - everyone does it, and you should not feel bad. As a cheap traveller, and a believer in the free access to culture and art, I gave them $1. The crowds flocked to the European Paintings and Egyptian galleries - I, after a brief exploration of Egypt, went straight for the Asian Art section. And what a decision! It was pretty much empty, I was alone in many of the galleries, but the sculpture and paintings were utterly astounding. If you go anywhere in the museum, go there - in a world where we are centred around Western art and culture, this was extremely different and exciting. To end, I spent the evening at a comedy club, watching seven performers improvise a musical based on an interview with an audience member.

My time in NYC has been astounding and wonderful. I came wanting to see so much, and I have probably only seen a tiny fraction. It is with a heavy heart that I leave, knowing it may be a while before I return; but it is also with excitement. As I move on to Philadelphia, and four days with a wonderful friend. This US tour just keeps on giving.

Victory Tour - Boston

The perfect place to stop, take stock and contemplate. Boston, the largest city in New England, perhaps one of the most European cities in the United States has served me well as the beginning of my US tour in the wake of the stunning Obama victory. It is a beautiful city - with stunning vistas across the Charles River to Cambridge on one side, and an urban skyline on the other - walking around takes very little time, and it is always worth it.

I can't say that I have done everything here - far from it - but I feel that I've seen the highlights of an intellectual, sport-loving and architecturally beautiful city. My favourite places have been:

• Walking along the Esplanade. I spent my first morning wandering along the river, reading plaques about the history of the esplanade. Stunning views across bridges and the river really added to a sense of peace and calm that was most welcome after the previously incredibly hectic week.
• The Mary Baker Eddy Library and Mapparium. A building that has the lofty ambition of being for the 'Betterment of Humanity'; the Library itself is a stunning piece of architecture. And, at $6, it is entirely worth taking the 15 minute Mapparium tour. A huge glass globe with incredibly bizarre acoustics, walking inside you are reminded just how small and close we really are.
• The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. The site of one of the greatest art thefts in recent times, this is a fantastic building. Housing an eclectic mix of mainly renaissance art, the Venetian style building is breathtaking in itself, and completely worth the entry fee.
• The JFK Museum and Library. Itself, an interesting look at the history of JFK and the other Kennedys. However, it is the setting and the building that are particularly stunning. On a bright and blustery day as I visited it, the views are spectacular and it was nice to get out and see Boston from another angle.

There are plenty more sights - wandering through history on the Freedom Trail into the North End, with its lovely Italian restaurants; a drink at the top of the Prudential tower; Trinity Church. Boston is a city I very much enjoy.

This period has also been my first attempt at travelling alone. After a shaky start, being awkward in talking to people, I quickly made some friends that I could hang out with. Dinner with a Belgian/Canadian - our poor grasp of each other's language wasn't particularly useful; drinks in a pub with an incredibly interesting Nigerian man who really wanted to change the world and a night out with an eclectic mix of people - starting in a blues bar and ending up in a cheap college dive bar where the beer was big but the nacho's were huge! I enjoy the opportunity to explore alone but spend evenings with new found friends, learning their culture and their values. It is a confusing situation to grasp onto someone as a friend, spend a night with them, and then part knowing you'll almost certainly never see them again.

And so, I leave Boston happy that I have had a chance to stop and contemplate. On to New York, and the crazy sights of a huge city. I can't wait.

Success

To the best campaign team and volunteers in the history of politics. The best. The best ever...
Thank you for believing all the way, through every hill, through every valley.
Barack Obama, 06/11/2012, Chicago, IL

And so, here I am. Contemplating and computing the astounding victory. The progress of four years that will not be wasted. The incredibly hard work of thousands of people across Virginia and the United States that paid off. The belief that America isn't a country just for the wealthy; but a country equal for all - where opportunity exists, where people can follow their dreams with whomever they love, where government provides a helping hand to those in the most desperate of need.

Its still sinking in the magnitude of the victory. Out of all the major swing states, Romney won just one (Florida, yet to be called, looks like it'll go the right way way). That is astonishing. Ohio, Virginia, New Hampshire, Colorado - all of these states saw how important the President's message was. As I watched the  results come in - completely worn out from one of the most hectic four days of my life - I knew that America, and the world, would be a better, safer and more open place in four years time.

In every single precinct in Fairfax that I worked closely in for two months (bar one) the margin of victory for Obama actually increased. Phenomenal. This was replicated across Fairfax and other important parts of the state - offsetting Romney's increases on four years ago in Republican strong holds. This victory is, in my opinion, almost solely down to the ground game. For over a year, Organizing for America has had a presence in Fairfax - building neighbourhood teams, contacting those who's votes we could turn, persuading our supporters how essential it was they came to the polls. Hundreds and hundreds of volunteers gave up their evenings and their weekends to make calls and knock on doors because they saw just how important it was. And their hard work and dedication paid off. 

I am utterly proud to have been a small part of this historic moment. I gave everything I could to re-electing the President because I believed that, not just for the US but for the world, his victory is what was needed. I worked late, I started early, I knocked hundreds of doors, probably made a good few thousand phone calls. Some days, it was hard and I wondered why I came all this way. But Saturday to Tuesday - that was my reason. The buzz in the office was like nothing I'd ever experienced - here were hundreds of people who gave up just a couple of hours to join forces with people who shared their values; taking ownership of an important cause. To be able to share in that feeling - well, it'll be hard to beat.

There are so many people I want to thank, so many people I wish I'd had an opportunity to say goodbye to. Unfortunately, in the hectic wake of Tuesday night - rushing out with food and water to the polls to keep people in line - I missed the chance to do so. They won't read this, but I want to thank them anyway. From the bottom of my heart. For making me welcome, for understanding why I needed to be here, for giving me the belief in myself that I could make a difference. They made this happen. They are the core of what President Barack Obama believes in. They are what keeps America on the right path. They are my friends. My family. They are people I may never see again. But they are people I truly, deeply love. And I feel incredibly humbled by them all. 

A Hectic Few Weeks

I join you here after what can only be described as the most hectic few weeks of my recent life. Since I last wrote these are a few things that have happened:

• Two rallies which I had to organise volunteers for
• A hike up to 1000m for 8 hours
• Two long canvassing weekends - dry runs for the election days
• Getting to grips with a new role in these dry runs of arranging runners
• Two Presidential and one Vice Presidential debates
• Booking my travels post-election
• Some pretty bad polls for the President
• Voter Registration deadline
• At least one day where I didn't leave the office until gone 11pm
• An argument with a Republican in a restaurant that I was making phone calls in - where she threatened that 'when she was done with me I'd never make calls again' and threatened the job of the manager. 

But, its all worth it. Yes, I'm tired. Yes, I'm living on a diet of black coffee, pizza, doughnuts and other junk food. And yes, I've had no time to keep everyone at home updated of what I've been doing. But, as the polls move closer together and Virginia is becoming an even tighter election, my work is becoming even more important. The campaign has kicked into overdrive; we are making even more calls, knocking on even more doors and recruiting vast numbers of volunteers. All for what will be the most well-oiled, well-run and effective four days of grassroots campaigning I've ever seen - to get our voters to their polling locations and able to vote, in the face of some pretty strong voter suppression attempts by the Republican run Virginia government.

There's been a lot of hand-wringing from Democrats recently. With Obama's (admittedly) poor performance at the first debate - although not awful, media agreement piled up the pressure - polls have tightened. However, as the wonderful blog by Nate Silverman shows (fivethirtyeight.blogs.nytimes.com) polls should be taken with a inch of salt. Yes, the race is close, it has ALWAYS been close. But it is far from over and the President still has a good chance of being re-elected - whether its by winning Ohio, Virginia or Florida (either of these would all but guarantee his victory). I try my hardest to keep away from polls. There's very little I, or OFA, can do to change the polls. Our greatest role is to turn out the voters that we know will support the President - whether that's encouraging those that can to vote early, providing rides to the polls for those unable to get there themselves or simply reminding someone of their polling location through a simple phone call; our task is clear and it is important. Polls means nothing if people don't turn up. 

Tomorrow night is the final debate; this one on foreign policy. President Obama should, and I believe will, wipe the floor with Romney - who's lack of experience and understanding on the nuances of international diplomacy would be laughable were they not so terrifying. When people ask me why I'm here, my answer is usually this. That I, on behalf of the UK and Europe, want someone in charge of the greatest military and diplomatic might in the world that I trust to do so with tact, experience and intelligence. Obama is that person. He is measured on Iran, on Palestine and on Syria. Romney would bring America back to the terrifying foreign policy of the Bush era - if not further; that one thing terrifies me the most. 

This is what keeps me going when I'm entering data at 11pm. That encouraging more people to vote for President Obama will mean a safer world for all. Not only for the Middle East (where his efforts are clear and important), but here in America - where a woman will still be able to make her own health choices; where people that love each other will be guaranteed the same protections no matter who they happen to fall in love with, and that ordinary Americans will be able to access healthcare no matter how much money they have in the bank. Not all of this will impact me directly at home; but America sets a precedent. And if the greatest, most divisive nation on earth can do it, perhaps the rest of the world can too.

The Presidential Rally

This country has come too far to turn back now

President Obama, Rally in Fairfax VA, 5/10/12

Today, I saw President Obama at a rally at George Mason University in Fairfax, VA. Along with 1800 people, I listened to him command the auditorium with his charm, intelligence, wit and empathy. The noise was deafening as he stated his belief in America, his compassion for those struggling to find work and his dedication to protect those most in need. Women of all ages, the focus of this event, cheered his every word as he detailed the steps he has put in place - from protecting Planned Parenthood to preventing insurance companies from denying health care to those with pre-existing conditions like cancer. After a relatively poor performance at the first debate (not horrendous, but not amazing) he came out fighting, telling the assembled crowd how Mitt Romney would cut taxes for the wealthy, repeal the protections of Obamacare and even set his sights on Sesame Street. Not that the crowd needed telling, he emphasised how important it was that supporters turned out and voted to protect American jobs, the middle classes and groups that Romney and the Republicans would disregard. It couldn't have been a more inspirational, heart-felt and fighting speech. 

Far from being a passive supporter, I was working. I had been tasked at the beginning of the week with the essential role of recruiting and coordinating the 60 volunteers we needed for the event. A high pressured role, I was honoured to be asked and trusted - obviously I've made some kind of impression in the weeks I've worked for OFA. Due to venue changes, I had only one evening (Wednesday) to get in touch with people and get them to volunteer. I was terrified something would go wrong - either not enough people would turn up or, more likely, too many would - what with over 150 people being asked originally. It was with bated breath that I approached the training on Thursday night. Luckily, my fears were unfounded. The right number of dedicated, passionate and trustworthy volunteers arrived to be told their roles - roles that were unglamorous, but nonetheless incredibly important. Roles ranging from car park attendance to water distribution. Each volunteer gave everything they had to their roles, turning up at 7:30am this morning to begin work without a sign of tiredness. Everyone was just so pleased to be able to give something back to the President who has given them so much - which underlines the key ability of this campaign to mobilise its supporters into essential roles.

I spent my day at the front of the line, controlling the flow of the tide, engaging with people who had been camped out from 6pm the previous evening to get a good seat to see the President. It was a wonderful opportunity to meet with so many people who were enthused and ready to fight for the President's re-election. We signed up brand new volunteers, registered voters and encouraged support. It was humbling - watching this incredible event, I couldn't imagine anything similar in the UK.

We have a tendency in the UK to look at Americans as brash, occasionally vulgar and far too enthusiastic. We, the reserved nation, stand horrified at the cheering and whooping that we see on television. But, I would always rather have over enthusiasm the like of which I saw today than the passionless lack of imagination that seems to dominate UK politics. Yes, American politics is flawed - it is divisive, long and too influenced by money. But nearly four weeks here has told me that the UK could learn much about mobilising support which could increase our engagement with politics and politicians.

Yard Sign Wars

There's a war in America. It is fought in the front gardens (yards) of many an American family. It reaches far across the nation and is bitterly waged between neighbours who, only last year, may have waved warmly. No longer. Now, neighbours sneer and play a game of one-up on each other. I'm talking, dear reader, about Yard Sign Wars - an incredibly American institution that pits neighbour against neighbour.

The Fairfax office of Organizing for America has been inundated with requests for Yard Signs since I've been here. Unfortunately, there's been a shortage of them in the state and this has angered a lot of people - people who see the Romney campaign peppering yards with their signs and are unable to compete. I, personally, believe that spending money on Yard Signs is a bit of a waste. Firstly - they can't vote, so why spend money on them. Second - I can't believe that they would actually change anyone's mind as to who to vote for. Finally, I believe that the Obama campaign has much more important things to spend its money on - such as its social media platforms or its grassroots campaign. 

However, there is something to be said for them in terms of supporter morale. If all you see are 'Romney Ryan' signs populating people's lawns, or 'ObamaNo', then you will probably feel isolated and alone in your support for the President. However, if you begin to see more Obama signs pop up, you'll feel like part of something, possibly more likely to turn out to the polls (seeing that Obama has a chance) and maybe even become more likely to volunteer. Especially if you have a yard sign yourself that has been surrounded by Romney signs for a long time. I've seen huge Romney signs at busy intersections, signs placed right up against the property line of people's homes, even outside schools so that everyone has to walk past them. This has to be slightly demoralising to Obama supporters, and I understand their frustrations at the lack of Obama signage up.

The Fairfax office has finally got some signs in - but not enough to keep all the Democrats in the area happy. Their answer? A trade. A sign will be given to anyone that has completed a voluntary shift with the campaign, anyone who signs up to volunteer, or anyone who donates snacks or drinks to the office - to be given out to those volunteers who give up their time canvassing or at phone banks. Some see this as a terrible way to go about things and the campaign. However, with my previous reservations above, I think its great. Not only are we encouraging people to become more engaged with the campaign, but we are rewarding those who do so. 

As one unnamed supporter said to me; 'Yard Signs can't vote. If they do, maybe they'll be a priority. For now, we need to focus on the people'. I wholeheartedly agree.

Finally, above is a video which I hope explains the inspiration as to why I'm here. Enjoy. 

The Phone Bank

There's something special about US Presidential Elections which I've never experienced in the UK - they may exist, but never in the levels I'm seeing here in Virginia. They usually happen once a week in neighbourhoods across the region, staffed by willing people who give up their evenings to make calls to persuade people to vote for President Obama. Someone, someone wonderful, gives up their home - laying on drinks and snacks - in order to make everyone comfortable. Phones are provided, laptops connected to the internet, sheets of people to call are printed. I'm talking about volunteer phone banks.


Here numbers of people willing to give up their time are tasked with making the telephone calls that help persuade people to vote for President Obama, make sure supporters turn out to vote, and recruit volunteers for future phone bank or canvassing sessions. These are people for whom sharing their personal stories and values with other voters is a weekly and exciting ritual. They thrive on their ability to do something for the campaign. Talking with the volunteers, each of them tells me that this is their opportunity to do something small for a man that they all truly believe in, and to prevent a return to the days of Republican presidents who care little for those who are more hard-working, more dedicated and more passionate than the rich few. They are humble, they are dedicated, but their work is not small; it is essential work that allows President Obama to overcome the money of the other side and persuade people that he is, truly, the right choice for America.


The phone bank is a key example of the Obama campaign's ability to work with its grass-roots support; organising people into neighbourhood teams who go out regularly to help garner support. Yes, a large percentage of calls will result in volunteers listening to voice mail; yes, people will spout hate-filled comments about President Obama and yes, some people will just say they don't want to vote. However, that one conversation every volunteer will have with someone who was undecided - sharing their values, their commitment and President Obama's policies - will make a difference. These voters will see that Obama is supported by real, honest, people who know how hard life is these days. These voters will come away with the knowledge that Obama's campaign listens, that it isn't taken over by millionaires, that it is run from the ground up. 


In a state as close as Virginia, their positive interaction with the campaign will mean that those 13 Electoral College votes will go Blue - propelling President Obama to a second, deserved, term.

A few things I've learnt already

Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. 

We are the ones we've been waiting for. 

We are the change that we seek
Barack Obama

And so, here I am. Land of the Free, Home of the Brave. The US of A. Fairfax, Virginia to be precise - suburban through and through. Think Desperate Housewives, but without a beautiful topless Jesse Metcalfe walking around and you'd be on the right track for my neighbourhood of Mantua. I thought I'd begin my postings with a few of the things I've learnt in my first 48 hours in the country.

1. If you want to get in to the country without a lengthy interview and bag search, remember the address you're going to. I didn't. This resulted in me having to sit in line for half an hour, have a ten minute chat with THE DULLEST HUMAN BEING ALIVE (what is it with immigration officials and a serious sense of humour failure?), proceed to watch as he emptied my wonderfully packed bag and had to call the airline to make sure I had a return flight. I'm sorry, but what is there about me that looks like I'm coming into the country illegally and not going to go home? I had my bloody Team GB wristbands on - I'm pretty likely to go home.

2. Now, I know this is a massive cliché (although, whats the problem with a cliché - if people say it a lot, then its probably good) but the people are just so friendly. I've had the standard 'welcome to America' from pretty much everyone, a lot of 'thank you for coming and giving your time', so many offers of tour guides and homes to stay in and even more. I even went for a bit of a walk today and, without fail, I got a 'how are ya' from everyone. Lovely.

3. Conversely, there's a lot of very angry people who hate President Obama. Seriously. I know, UK people, its hard to believe but wow. So much hate. From TV ads to radio shows his name is slung around in the mud by a lot of people. Telephoning people yesterday to get them to vote, a few told me things like 'Obama hates retired people', 'I should be ashamed of myself for supporting him' and that I should get a real job. Luckily, there's also a lot of love for him too...

4. Politics in this country is about real people and real issues. Campaigning, at least for Obama, is led from the ground. Never in the UK could I imagine seeing perhaps 20 people come into the office on a Thursday evening to give over some time to make calls or enter data - but this is what happened to us yesterday. I'll blog about this in more detail, but if we had half the passion in the UK that people do here you'd never hear of people being 'disengaged'.

5. 70s decor is still in fashion. The house I live in (with the ever friendly, adorable and wonderful Ann Tyson) is decorated wonderfully with floral wallpaper, green carpets and all kinds of 70s fittings. And this actually appeals to me. It feels so homely and comfortable (Ann's lived here for 46 years!!) that I just feel so at home. Its great. 

That's probably enough for now. There's plenty more (such as Supermarkets are terrifying, Stop means Stop and columns really are the in thing). Just know this, I'm going to be working at least 10 hours a day, 6 days a week to re-elect the President. So I hope it's bloody worth it. 

Time to Say Goodbye

Farewell is beautiful

A glimpse into the future

Farewell is wonderful

Is sets for Adventure.

Goodbye, Farewell by Kolabomi Adeko

As I begin to make my final preparations for a once-in a lifetime experience in the USA, working for the campaign to re-elect Barack Obama to the White House, I am taken by the differences in goodbye that I've had, or will be having, over this summer. Goodbye, Farewell, See ya, Toodles...all ways we say goodbye, but each instance is tinged with some different meaning.

The first is the proud, heartfelt, patriotic goodbye that I have said to London 2012. Having had the honour of being a spectator at both the Olympic and Paralympics games I can say, categorically, that this was the proudest I have ever been of my country and my city. The detractors have been silenced, the public have been awed and the athletes have been spectacular. As I left the stadium lit up in red, white and on Saturday night - having watching Oscar Pistorius storm to 400m Gold, it was with sadness, but with pride that I whispered goodbye to those miraculous and beautiful venues. The dramatic and moving tribute to both games, brought by Coldplay and an army of performers - plus thousands of pounds worth of fireworks - was a perfect testament to what we, the United Kingdom and London, have done for sport - able and disabled - across the world. With tears in my eyes, I joined the millions watching in thanking and saying goodbye to all those volunteers, athletes and officials who have made it such a wonderful sporting spectacle.

Next is the recent angry goodbye I have said to someone I very much cared about. We've had a bit of a tough time, meeting for the first time only a month and a half ago. But we had a good time and I really thought, through the brief moments we had, something could work. However niggling arguments, differing expectations and time pressures culminated in a bit of a bust up - meaning a proper goodbye hasn't been possible. Perhaps its not a final goodbye, but right now, it certainly feels like one. 

Third is the drunken goodbye I said to a number of people in one go last week. What better way is there to say goodbye for three months to people you love than with a shot? I certainly can't think of one. No tears, no sadness, just good old fashioned drunken haze. Perfect. And, let's be honest, three months isn't long; before we know it, I'll be back celebrating Obama's victory (and my hand in it) with even more alcohol at Christmas time. 

Finally, there's the goodbye that will happen as I leave my home. If the last time I went away for three months is anything to go by, there's going to be tears. Lots of tears. When I went to Bangladesh for three months, I spent the entirety of the security line trying to hold back the tears - having seen my Mum's dripping face as I left - and running off to the toilet for fifteen minutes to try and calm down. Not fun. 

But goodbye isn't final. There is always the promise of return, the promise of rekindling, the promise of stories to tell. It is nothing in comparison to its more beautiful cousin, Hello. A word I am getting excited about using. Hello to all those people I am going to meet. Hello to a new country; a country I, like many Brits, feel I know but am all too aware that I probably don't. And, when I return, it will be a whole new world of Hello's. 

Why I Love the Olympic Games

Something remarkable has been happening in London over the past week. I'm sure you've seen something alluding to it. It's not exactly hard to miss. The excitement, apprehension, tension has been building ever since that day in July 2005 when Jacques Rogues uttered those words - pronouncing 'London' very weirdly, but pronouncing that we, this fair city, would host the world's greatest sporting event. Its been a challenge and a spectacle, we've had an economic crisis in between; detractors have come and told us that its a waste of money, will cause transport in London to fail miserably, will be like a police state with all the security. But it has begun. And, by god, it seems to have gone brilliantly. Here below are just a few reasons why I love the London 2012 Olympic Games

• People in London are happy and talkative. In most countries this wouldn't be a surprise, but in London, where people have perfected their 'tube face' this is a complete change. I've had conversations with complete strangers on the train, spent an evening sitting and screaming at a big screen with people I've never met before and been amazed by the smiling and happy faces of Londoners. Yes, perhaps there's more tourists, but I even hear those dressed in suits dicussing how exciting Mo Farah's win in the 10,000m was, or how British Cycling is a force to be reckoned with!

• The Games Makers. Watching them attempt to hide their grins at standing behind the 100m finalists reminded me of how incredible these people are. When in the Olympic Park last Monday it was the Games Makers, who give up their time and sometimes money, that stood out for me. They were polite, cheerful, incredibly pleased to be there and proud. Its wonderful to see.

• The Olympic Park is beautiful. From trees and flowers to waterways, the transformation of a desolae piece of East London into a beautiful parkland is fantastic. The stand-out part of it, however, has to be the fantastic architecture. Slightly blighted by the seating, the Aquatics Centre is an absolute triumph, as is the Olympic Stadium. However, the best in my eyes is the gloriously shaped Velodrome - with its beautiful golden roof and red sides it sits in a fantastic position at the height of the Park. It should win some award, surely?

• We get to reclaim national pride and the Union Flag from the far right. Now, look, I've never really been patriotic. I don't go for all this pride in my country lark, I was born in the UK by luck and whilst I absolutely adore living here its not the be all and end all of my life. However, its really quite wonderful to see the Union Flag being used to celebrate pride, acheivement and happiness for once, rather than the hate and prejudice that it has come to symbolie recently. The left in this country tend to keep away from flying the flag or showing any form of national pride; we need to start seeing it as an important symbol of freedom, equality and hard work. Every time I see someone draped in a flag, with it painted on their face or nails, or a business flying it, I no longer think 'oh god, crazy right-wing nutter at ten O'clock', but I'm filled with a sense of community.

• London Transport has survived. In fact, more than survived, it has triumphed. Apart from minor delays caused by signal failures, I have heard of no trouble getting around London in the past two weeks. I took the central line from Bank past Stratford during rush hour recently and, whilst it was busy, it was no problem at all. We should applaud TFL and all other transport operators for their meticulours planning and organising to make sure that London's tired and old transport system was up to scratch for this fantastic two weeks.

There are going to be people reading this who think I've been taken over by pride and given up on my questioning ways because I've been star struck. They would be right. But not because I wasn't concerned the Olympics would go wrong. I was. But it has been such an incredible triumph so far, not only because of the success of TeamGB but for all the many fantastic sporting moments, that I cannot find it in me to criticise.

Bring on the Paralympics!

Bad Dates, Good Dates.

I'm not saying I'm perfect;

In fact I'm far from it;

I'm just saying I'm worth it.

Unknown

I've now been on the online dating scene for about a month. I don't want to blow my own trumpet too much, but I've had much more attention on my chosen site than I thought I would. Perhaps its that photo which has just the right amount of light (aka, very little) to make me look even vaguely passable. Perhaps its the practice I've had from writing this that has meant I can use overly flowery language and begin to sell myself a little bit. Or maybe, its just that there are a lot of people on this site that, like me, are just interested to meet as many people as they can. Whatever it is, I've certainly enjoyed chatting to a good few people. And receiving the odd 'Wink' is always exciting!

And, luckily, after wading through all the complete non-starters (my profile says max 30 guys, 72 is a little out of my age range!!) I've even managed to have some really great conversations that have developed into dates. Two dates with two guys that were, entirely, polar opposites. They both started well, a bit of banter developed over messaging; numbers were exchanged and texting ensued; dates and times for a meet-up were arranged. I was dressed up, nervous, excited equally by both of them. But, they couldn't have been different. I've changed names so as to save any embarrassment in case either decides to read this...

First there was James. James seemed really sweet, a bit of a geek like me, a gentleman. We exchanged a good few messages until I decided the time was right to set up a date and exchange numbers. He leapt at the chance. Over the coming week we sent each other a lot of texts, even briefly speaking on the phone. He seemed nice, possibly a little too nice. And keen. Boy was he keen. Probably a little too keen, but I was keen too so I let him off. As the day for our first date approached he let me know what he wanted to do; I was hoping for something interesting. No. A drink and dinner was all he could muster. I should have let him down then and there; I know its the standard idea but really - if you can't think of something better, its a worrying sign. But I decided to go for it, even if it wasn't good, at least I had some practice. I arrived at our meeting point, nervous, what if I didn't recognise him from his photo? But then I saw him and, my heart sank. I knew, immediately, I just wasn't attracted to him. I could have moved past this, but a forced and overly formal handshake later (really, we're both gay, a hug isn't inappropriate!!) and I just knew I wasn't on to a winner. Over a couple of drinks and dinner the conversation flowed easily, but it wasn't scintillating. He talked about work, I talked about work. He didn't ask any interesting questions, I tried but failed to get a response. I couldn't get away quicker. A terrible hug and quick peck on the cheek at the station and that was it; I knew I had to let him down. He text me to say he had a great time, I sent him that horrible 'you're just not for me' text. I didn't even get a reply. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't horrible, he was a nice enough guy. But, god, not for me. Not for me at all.

I was disappointed. My first foray was a failure. Deflated and dejected I went back to the drawing board and started trying to find someone new to chat to. And then I stumbled across Adrian. He'd looked at my profile before, but I hadn't really registered him, I wish I had. His profile ad amused me, this was clearly someone who was laid back and just wanted to have fun. Interested, I sent him a wink, not expecting much. He replied the next day with a message. One line, 'How can you not like bananas you weirdo?' (anyone who knows me well enough will know what a trauma that devil fruit is to me) I laughed so much when I read it. I was sold. Not one other person had read my profile well enough to realise that what I really wanted was to be made to laugh, be put in my place and face sarcasm. I replied with something equally witty, and we were off. We exchanged numbers within a day, set up a date for two days time. This was exciting. I took the reigns, decided on something much more interesting - a picnic in a park (the sun's finally been shining in London so I wanted to make the most of it). He was pretty keen. So we decided to meet up and go buy food together first. I was nervous, really nervous, but so excited. And then I saw him, and I just thought - thank god, I'm actually attracted to this one!! The date couldn't have gone better - we laughed, we cut each other down, we shared interesting stories. He'd even brought me a little handmade gift. I did not want to leave. As it got cooler, we decided to move somewhere for a drink. We sat down, and I still couldn't leave. He made me laugh, he insulted me, he let me insult him. We bonded over a love of films, books, music. When I finally had to go I knew that this had been a good one. I was certain I wanted to see him again. I went home with a big grin on my face. Online dating had, hopefully, worked in at least introducing me to someone I might like to get to know better.

So folks, the moral of this story? If you want to do online dating - make sure you read a person's profile properly. Don't just send the 'Hi, How are you?' message. Send something personal, interesting, fun. You never know what you might end up with. And, for gods sake, be inventive with your date suggestions!!