As we knocked on the front doors of registered Democrats across Allentown, Pennsylvania, leading up to Election Day, there were vivid moments that resonated deeply. A white couple stood at their threshold, their toddler sporting a vibrant rainbow “Girl Power” T-shirt blowing kisses to us, as the family prepared to head out and cast their votes for Kamala Harris. A middle-aged Latino man, who had momentarily turned away from the Eagles game blaring from his TV, expressed his enthusiasm for seeing a female President, remarking, “men can’t get anything done.” An insightful woman of Central American descent revealed that the election of Donald Trump in 2016 had transformed her sense of belonging, as pointed remarks about immigrants began to infiltrate her daily life. Then there was an elderly silver-haired man, who, in his eighties, shared that he had never cast a ballot until the 2020 election when he dedicated a day off work to participate. “Not to get Biden in,” he clarified, “but to get Trump out. I don’t know how anyone can support him,” he said, casting a glance down his serene street.
This enlightening conversation unfolded in Emmaus, just south of Allentown, a quaint municipality characterized by blocks of modest homes, their gardens meticulously cared for, nestled against a hillside vibrant with autumn foliage. Nearby, a real blaze was manifesting itself due to a drought gripping the East Coast, creating an unusual, amorphous cloud that loomed over the region that Sunday. While signs of economic hardship were evident in Emmaus—one apartment displayed a stark eviction notice—there was a vibrant display of garden statuary, Halloween decorations, and fall wreaths. The most prominent sight, however, were the numerous welcoming signs adorning doors, doormats, banners, and even wire structures. “Welcome Fall!” “Welcome to our home.” “Welcome, family and friends.” My three days of canvassing in Pennsylvania exposed me to an unprecedented number of “Welcome” signs.
I reminisced about my previous visit to Allentown on Election Day in 2020, where political signage was abundant and often contentious, with clashes between parties playing out across porches. This year, however, the political atmosphere felt markedly subdued, as if voters had agreed to a collective nod towards moderation. It was common to traverse an entire block without encountering any political signs, save for our presence as canvassers—and we were far from alone. The outreach efforts by Democrats were vigorous, expertly organized, and filled with anticipation. Canvassers poured in from neighboring states throughout my stay in Pennsylvania, persistently reminding residents to support the Harris-Walz ticket. On Election Day, a group of teenage boys dashed around Philadelphia, distributing door tags, and we joined forces with a local canvasser in a reflective vest, sharing overlapping lists. Intriguingly, we encountered no Republican canvassers, a notable absence that fueled our spirits.
On Election Day, an unyielding sun beat down relentlessly on parched lawns in Northeast Philadelphia; the occasional oak and maple trees were starkly outnumbered by unsightly stumps and hollows where trees had once thrived. The weather was bizarrely warm, a freakish seventy degrees, providing an unsettling backdrop to the blocks of indistinguishable small homes, many shaded by aluminum awnings. The scene evoked memories of a Chicago neighborhood where my grandfather, a retired policeman and lifelong Democrat, had lived. Here, we met voters with Slavic surnames proudly displaying “We Stand with Ukraine” signs at their homes, alongside an elderly Albanian couple who communicated solely in silence as their family members, registered Democrats, were away.
At one point, a man of Southeast Asian descent firmly informed us that he and his wife, the Democrat we sought but never saw, were not going to vote. “We will not be voting,” he reiterated resolutely, before closing the door, a moment that lingered in my mind after Pennsylvania ultimately swung for Trump. Encounters like this one, alongside others perceived as outliers at the time, reverberated in my thoughts. We spoke with a white man in his late sixties who, though his wife was a registered Democrat, identified as a lifelong Republican. He unleashed his frustrations with gas prices and dismissed Democrats’ claims of an improving economy as “bullshit.” With a smirk, he added, “I would never vote for a Black, and I would never vote for a woman.” We thanked him for his honesty and walked away, shaking our heads.
Directly across the street, we met our only undecided Democrat—a woman in her thirties who had served in the military for a decade. Despite her friendly demeanor, she was evidently conflicted, emerging in a pink hooded bathrobe as her dog barked energetically from inside. While she strongly disliked Trump, her disenchantment with the circumstances surrounding Harris’s candidacy was tangible. She described the pressure on Biden to step aside as “elder abuse” and had planned to vote for Robert F. Kennedy Jr. until his exit from the race. Despite our fervent arguments in favor of Harris, our efforts appeared futile. “I hate the system,” she said. “I hate my choices. I hate the isolation I feel in my own neighborhood.” This revelation startled us; numerous homes nearby bore stickers hinting at the presence of veterans. The houses were closely aligned, the polling location just a church down the street. Yet, amidst an ambiance of silence, her parallel experience with the community felt overwhelmingly solitary, as she confessed to knowing none of her neighbors, despite the phalanx of silent welcomes surrounding her.
**Interview with Election Canvasser in Pennsylvania**
**Interviewer:** Thank you for joining us today! You recently canvassed in Pennsylvania leading up to the Election Day. Can you share some of your experiences from that time?
**Canvasser:** Absolutely, it was an eye-opening experience. As we knocked on doors in neighborhoods like Emmaus and Allentown, the conversations were diverse and heartfelt. People were eager to share their thoughts about the election and what it meant to them personally.
**Interviewer:** That sounds fascinating. Were there any particular interactions that stood out to you?
**Canvasser:** Yes, definitely! One memorable encounter was with a Latino man who paused from watching an Eagles game. He expressed his excitement about the possibility of seeing a female President and remarked humorously that “men can’t get anything done.” It really highlighted how much this election meant to people, and how engaged they were.
**Interviewer:** It seems like you encountered a wide range of voters. What was the general mood in the community leading up to the election?
**Canvasser:** Interestingly, the mood felt more subdued this time compared to 2020. Back then, the atmosphere was contentious, filled with political signs and strong opinions. This year, it felt like there was a collective nod towards moderation. There were very few political signs, which was both surprising and telling.
**Interviewer:** Did you notice any trends in voter engagement during your canvassing efforts?
**Canvasser:** Yes, there were a lot of welcoming signs and positive messages throughout the neighborhoods. However, I did notice a lack of Republican canvassers, which was quite striking. It seemed like Democratic outreach was well-organized and enthusiastic, with canvassers arriving from states nearby.
**Interviewer:** That’s intriguing. Were there any voters who weren’t planning to participate in the election that you spoke with?
**Canvasser:** Yes, I encountered a couple who decided not to vote this election. The husband expressed his firm decision not to participate, which was disappointing to hear. It reminded me that not everyone feels represented or motivated to vote, regardless of the circumstances.
**Interviewer:** Thank you for sharing your experiences. It must have been rewarding to engage with people on such important topics. What do you think will be the lasting impact of your canvassing efforts?
**Canvasser:** I think every conversation we had contributed to a broader dialogue about the importance of voting and civic engagement. Even if some chose not to vote, the act of discussing these issues is vital. It reminds us that every vote counts and encourages others to become more involved in future elections.
**Interviewer:** Wise words indeed! Thank you for joining us and sharing your experiences from Pennsylvania.
**Canvasser:** Thank you for having me! It was a pleasure to be here.
