thenation--2020-10-21--We Can’t See Young Progressive Voters as a Monolith

These dispatches are published as part of StudentNation ’ s “ Vision 2020 : Election Stories From the Next Generation , ” reports from young journalists that center the concerns of diverse young voters .
In this project , working with Dr. Sherri Williams , we recruited young journalists from different backgrounds to develop story ideas and reporting about their peers ’ concerns ahead of the most important election of our lives .
This is the final installment of the series .
Jack Andrejco , a 21-year-old transgender man , spent his junior year in high school struggling with gender @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s approval to start hormones .
Gender-reassignment surgery took a physical toll on him , he said , but it was life-changing .
“ I was fortunate to have a great surgeon with a great team of doctors and nurses in addition to a supportive family to help me recover , ” said Andrejco , of South Orange , N.J. , now a senior studying psychology at Rutgers University .
But Andrejco knows that health care for transgender people is still wholly insufficient .
And while he said he has noticed an @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that momentum continues under the next president .
This story was produced for Student Nation , a section devoted to highlighting campus activism and student movements from students in their own words .
For more Student Nation , check out our archive .
Are you a student with a campus activism story ?
Send questions and pitches to Samantha Schuyler at samantha @ thenation.com .
The Student Nation program is made possible through generous funding from The Puffin Foundation .
Transgender people often find themselves facing discriminatory health policies at medical institutions .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ seek medical care .
But legal and societal barriers to their access to health care , especially lack of health insurance , are among key concerns that young transgender voters want presidential candidates to address this election as the nation grapples with a global health crisis—the Covid-19 pandemic .
The health of transgender people is even more complicated in the context of the coronavirus outbreak .
While Covid-19 led to a strained health care system and profound economic and job losses , for transgender people the impact of the pandemic was deeper because @ @ @ @ @ @ @ employment they already faced .
More than one in five transgender adults have at least one or more chronic conditions , such as diabetes , arthritis , or asthma , according to the National Center for Transgender Equality .
More than one in four transgender people have lost their job due to bias , and more than three-fourths experienced workplace discrimination .
Also , the risk of homelessness makes it easier for issues like the Covid-19 pandemic to affect a community already at risk of having chronic diseases .
Moreover , President Trump @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , the nondiscrimination provision of the Affordable Care Act , erased protections for health procedures typically sought by transgender people .
The rule was designed to stop gender identity discrimination , including discrimination against intersex and nonbinary individuals .
It also banned forms of sexual identity discrimination including gender stereotyping , expecting a person to act a certain way because of their gender .
But a federal judge blocked the implementation of the reversal in August saying that it clashed with the June 2020 Supreme Court ruling that extended 1964 Civil Rights Act @ @ @ @ @ @ @ illegal to fire them from jobs based on sexual identity .
Also , in 2018 the Trump administration suggested removing sexual orientation and gender identity nondiscrimination wording from some federal health care regulations for federal and state health insurance .
Experts feared that rollbacks on former President Obama ’ s regulations that prohibited discrimination on gender identity and sexual orientation for private insurance and state insurance could enable health insurers to charge higher premiums or deny service to LGBTQ patients , according to a Kaiser Family Foundation report .
Britt Walsh , director @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in Washington , D.C. , oversees a department that provides services including assistance with physical and mental health care .
Walsh is concerned that another term with President Trump could erase all the previous protections from the act .
States are also looking to legally restrict LGBTQ health .
This year seven states—Colorado , Missouri , Oklahoma , South Carolina , Kentucky , Florida , and South Dakota—introduced legislation that would prohibit physicians from treating transgender youth under 16 with hormones.
“ Imagine being a young person and hearing statewide legislation that ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Walsh said .
The Trump administration also proposed the health care regulation “ Protecting Statutory Conscience Rights in Health Care ” to enable health care providers to deny people treatment based on the medical professional ’ s religious beliefs on LGBTQ identities .
Young men like Andrejco believe policy actions , like the Trump administration ’ s attempt to reverse the Affordable Care Act ’ s LGBTQ protections , are a major blow to the transgender community .
“ What is the true meaning of this ?
” he asked .
“ Cisgender @ @ @ @ @ @ @ sex surgeries , so how are transgender people any different ?
” Sebastian Valencia , who will vote for the first time in the 2020 presidential election , is dissatisfied with his options .
“ I feel like I ’ m finally able to contribute to the American democratic system , ” said 18-year-old Valencia , a recent graduate of Bethesda–Chevy Chase High School in suburban Washington , D.C. “ But I am also really disappointed in the choices we might end up with—I have a lot of issues with Biden and I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ four more years of Trump.
” Latin-Americans are the largest-growing ethnic demographic in the United States , totaling nearly 60 million with roots in various nations , according to the Pew Research Center .
They are diverse—and so are their concerns during this presidential election .
Indeed , Valencia ’ s main election priorities are abortion access and social security , which he said did not get enough attention in the recent debates .
“ As a Latino first-time voter , I think it ’ s important for other Americans to recognize that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ immigration , ” he said .
The myth of the monolithic Latinx voting bloc wrongly flattens the Latin-American demographic , presuming voters have the same interests , as well as political and social affiliations .
The myth also assumes that all Latinos are Democrats , despite the fact that in 2016 President Trump earned 28 percent of the Latino vote .
The economy , health care , the Covid-19 pandemic , racial and ethnic inequality and violent crime were among the top five presidential election issues of concern among registered Latinx voters , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in September .
Immigration ranked number eight among their concerns .
Ludy Grandas , a senior professorial lecturer in Spanish at American University , said that she often has to work to dismantle monolithic ideas of Latinx people in her classes .
However , outside of the classroom , Grandas said Latinx students often face unreasonable expectations about their identity .
“ There is a plethora of misconceptions—from how you ’ re supposed to behave to whether you ’ re fluent in Spanish or not , ” said Grandas .
“ The needs @ @ @ @ @ @ @ varied , economically and culturally.
” However , many young Latinx voters do not feel like many presidential candidates fully understand what it means to be Latinx .
Matt Hooke , 21 , of Chevy Chase , Md.
, said there ’ s a lot of needless pandering .
“ It ’ s super-patronizing to see presidential candidates speak Spanish as if we don ’ t understand them already , ” he said .
“ They need to understand that people vote on policy .
It ’ s just a testament to the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ paying more attention to Latinx folks because their voter eligibility is increasing .
Latin Americans will account for 13 percent of the US electorate , according to the Pew Research Center .
Hooke , an Ecuadorian-American student , said that the Latinx monolithic voting bloc myth is misguided : Not only is every Latinx person different , but various nationalities are represented in the voting booth .
For example , Mexican-American citizens comprise the highest share , 16 percent , of immigrants that are eligible to vote in the 2020 presidential election .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ citizens from the Dominican Republic are 3 percent ; and El Salvadorians are 2 percent of eligible voters , according to Pew Research Center data .
Also , in 2018 the Pew Research Center found that among eligible Hispanic voters , 65 percent of Puerto Ricans and 59 percent of Mexican Americans supported the Democratic Party and most eligible voters of Cuban descent , 57 percent , supported Republicans .
A Politico poll also suggests that two-thirds of Americans see the student loan crisis as a threat to the economy , including Latinx @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Korte , 25 , of Rockville , Md.
, recently earned a master ’ s degree in speech pathology at the University of the District of Columbia .
She said that student loan debt is the election issue primarily on her mind , adding she ’ s anxious about her future .
Korte , originally from Tegucigalpa , Honduras , said that the myth of the monolithic Latinx vote obscures the many different needs that Latinx voters bring to the table .
“ Every country is different , ” she said .
“ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ doesn ’ t mean we speak the same politics .
”

Subscribe to The Nation Subscribe now for as little as $2 a month! Subscribe now for as little as $2 a month!
Get The Nation’s Weekly Newsletter Fridays. The best of the week. Email By signing up, you confirm that you are over the age of 16 and agree to receive occasional promotional offers for programs that support The Nation’s journalism. You can read our Privacy Policy here. Fridays. The best of the week.
Thank you for signing up for The Nation’s weekly newsletter.
Repro Nation A monthly newsletter on the global fight for reproductive freedom. Email By signing up, you confirm that you are over the age of 16 and agree to receive occasional promotional offers for programs that support The Nation’s journalism. You can read our Privacy Policy here.
Thank you for signing up. For more from The Nation, check out our latest issue
Subscribe to The Nation Subscribe now for as little as $2 a month! Subscribe now for as little as $2 a month!
Support Progressive Journalism The Nation is reader supported: Chip in $10 or more to help us continue to write about the issues that matter. The Nation is reader supported: Chip in $10 or more to help us continue to write about the issues that matter.
Sign up for our Wine Club today. Did you know you can support The Nation by drinking wine?
These dispatches are published as part of StudentNation’s “Vision 2020: Election Stories From the Next Generation,” reports from young journalists that center the concerns of diverse young voters. In this project, working with Dr. Sherri Williams, we recruited young journalists from different backgrounds to develop story ideas and reporting about their peers’ concerns ahead of the most important election of our lives. This is the final installment of the series.
Jack Andrejco, a 21-year-old transgender man, spent his junior year in high school struggling with gender dysphoria. He needed a gender therapist’s approval to start hormones. Gender-reassignment surgery took a physical toll on him, he said, but it was life-changing.
“I was fortunate to have a great surgeon with a great team of doctors and nurses in addition to a supportive family to help me recover,” said Andrejco, of South Orange, N.J., now a senior studying psychology at Rutgers University.
But Andrejco knows that health care for transgender people is still wholly insufficient. And while he said he has noticed an improvement in recent years, he hopes that momentum continues under the next president. This story was produced for Student Nation, a section devoted to highlighting campus activism and student movements from students in their own words. For more Student Nation, check out our archive. Are you a student with a campus activism story? Send questions and pitches to Samantha Schuyler at [email protected]. The Student Nation program is made possible through generous funding from The Puffin Foundation.
Transgender people often find themselves facing discriminatory health policies at medical institutions. That bigotry also makes them reluctant to seek medical care. But legal and societal barriers to their access to health care, especially lack of health insurance, are among key concerns that young transgender voters want presidential candidates to address this election as the nation grapples with a global health crisis—the Covid-19 pandemic.
The health of transgender people is even more complicated in the context of the coronavirus outbreak. While Covid-19 led to a strained health care system and profound economic and job losses, for transgender people the impact of the pandemic was deeper because of the systemic inequities in health and employment they already faced. More than one in five transgender adults have at least one or more chronic conditions, such as diabetes, arthritis, or asthma, according to the National Center for Transgender Equality. More than one in four transgender people have lost their job due to bias, and more than three-fourths experienced workplace discrimination. Also, the risk of homelessness makes it easier for issues like the Covid-19 pandemic to affect a community already at risk of having chronic diseases.
Moreover, President Trump’s June reversal of section 1557, the nondiscrimination provision of the Affordable Care Act, erased protections for health procedures typically sought by transgender people. The rule was designed to stop gender identity discrimination, including discrimination against intersex and nonbinary individuals. It also banned forms of sexual identity discrimination including gender stereotyping, expecting a person to act a certain way because of their gender. But a federal judge blocked the implementation of the reversal in August saying that it clashed with the June 2020 Supreme Court ruling that extended 1964 Civil Rights Act protections for LGBTQ people and made it illegal to fire them from jobs based on sexual identity. Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin How the “Brooks Brothers Riot” Set the Stage for Insurrection How the “Brooks Brothers Riot” Set the Stage for Insurrection Chris Lehmann Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin How the “Brooks Brothers Riot” Set the Stage for Insurrection How the “Brooks Brothers Riot” Set the Stage for Insurrection Chris Lehmann Current Issue View our current issue
Also, in 2018 the Trump administration suggested removing sexual orientation and gender identity nondiscrimination wording from some federal health care regulations for federal and state health insurance.
Experts feared that rollbacks on former President Obama’s regulations that prohibited discrimination on gender identity and sexual orientation for private insurance and state insurance could enable health insurers to charge higher premiums or deny service to LGBTQ patients, according to a Kaiser Family Foundation report.
Britt Walsh, director of Gender Affirming Services at Whitman-Whitaker Health in Washington, D.C., oversees a department that provides services including assistance with physical and mental health care. Walsh is concerned that another term with President Trump could erase all the previous protections from the act.
States are also looking to legally restrict LGBTQ health. This year seven states—Colorado, Missouri, Oklahoma, South Carolina, Kentucky, Florida, and South Dakota—introduced legislation that would prohibit physicians from treating transgender youth under 16 with hormones.“Imagine being a young person and hearing statewide legislation that’s hateful toward your identity,” Walsh said.
The Trump administration also proposed the health care regulation “Protecting Statutory Conscience Rights in Health Care” to enable health care providers to deny people treatment based on the medical professional’s religious beliefs on LGBTQ identities.
Young men like Andrejco believe policy actions, like the Trump administration’s attempt to reverse the Affordable Care Act’s LGBTQ protections, are a major blow to the transgender community. “What is the true meaning of this?” he asked. “Cisgender people go through hormone therapies and secondary sex surgeries, so how are transgender people any different?”
—Petruce Jean-Charles
* * *
Sebastian Valencia, who will vote for the first time in the 2020 presidential election, is dissatisfied with his options.
“I feel like I’m finally able to contribute to the American democratic system,” said 18-year-old Valencia, a recent graduate of Bethesda–Chevy Chase High School in suburban Washington, D.C. “But I am also really disappointed in the choices we might end up with—I have a lot of issues with Biden and I sure as hell don’t want four more years of Trump.”
Latin-Americans are the largest-growing ethnic demographic in the United States, totaling nearly 60 million with roots in various nations, according to the Pew Research Center. They are diverse—and so are their concerns during this presidential election.
Indeed, Valencia’s main election priorities are abortion access and social security, which he said did not get enough attention in the recent debates. “As a Latino first-time voter, I think it’s important for other Americans to recognize that Latinos care about issues other than just immigration,” he said.
The myth of the monolithic Latinx voting bloc wrongly flattens the Latin-American demographic, presuming voters have the same interests, as well as political and social affiliations. The myth also assumes that all Latinos are Democrats, despite the fact that in 2016 President Trump earned 28 percent of the Latino vote.
The economy, health care, the Covid-19 pandemic, racial and ethnic inequality and violent crime were among the top five presidential election issues of concern among registered Latinx voters, according to Pew Research Center data released in September. Immigration ranked number eight among their concerns.
Ludy Grandas, a senior professorial lecturer in Spanish at American University, said that she often has to work to dismantle monolithic ideas of Latinx people in her classes. However, outside of the classroom, Grandas said Latinx students often face unreasonable expectations about their identity. “There is a plethora of misconceptions—from how you’re supposed to behave to whether you’re fluent in Spanish or not,” said Grandas. “The needs of the Latin American community are so varied, economically and culturally.”
However, many young Latinx voters do not feel like many presidential candidates fully understand what it means to be Latinx. Matt Hooke, 21, of Chevy Chase, Md., said there’s a lot of needless pandering. “It’s super-patronizing to see presidential candidates speak Spanish as if we don’t understand them already,” he said. “They need to understand that people vote on policy. It’s just a testament to the theatrics of politics.”
Politicians may be paying more attention to Latinx folks because their voter eligibility is increasing. Latin Americans will account for 13 percent of the US electorate, according to the Pew Research Center. Hooke, an Ecuadorian-American student, said that the Latinx monolithic voting bloc myth is misguided: Not only is every Latinx person different, but various nationalities are represented in the voting booth.
For example, Mexican-American citizens comprise the highest share, 16 percent, of immigrants that are eligible to vote in the 2020 presidential election. Cuban immigrants are 4 percent; US citizens from the Dominican Republic are 3 percent; and El Salvadorians are 2 percent of eligible voters, according to Pew Research Center data.
Also, in 2018 the Pew Research Center found that among eligible Hispanic voters, 65 percent of Puerto Ricans and 59 percent of Mexican Americans supported the Democratic Party and most eligible voters of Cuban descent, 57 percent, supported Republicans.
A Politico poll also suggests that two-thirds of Americans see the student loan crisis as a threat to the economy, including Latinx students—Astrid Korte is one of them.
Korte, 25, of Rockville, Md., recently earned a master’s degree in speech pathology at the University of the District of Columbia. She said that student loan debt is the election issue primarily on her mind, adding she’s anxious about her future. Korte, originally from Tegucigalpa, Honduras, said that the myth of the monolithic Latinx vote obscures the many different needs that Latinx voters bring to the table. “Every country is different,” she said. “Just because we speak the same language doesn’t mean we speak the same politics.”
—James Lepinsky


thenation--2020-10-21--Earth to Biden: Stop Talking About Fracking

One of President Donald Trump and Republicans ’ favorite hobby horses on the campaign trail is the absurd notion that Joe Biden and Democrats would subject Americans to a “ radical socialist Green New Deal.
” The Grand Old Party would like voters to believe that Democrats are just an election away from abolishing hamburgers , pickup trucks , and airplanes , sending electricity bills through the roof , and putting all the workers on unemployment insurance .
Both Trump and Vice President Mike Pence hurled these familiar attacks against former vice president Joe Biden and Senator Kamala Harris during @ @ @ @ @ @ @ While Data for Progress has observed that voters in fact support Biden ’ s plan for a massive investment in clean-energy jobs and do not believe Trump and Republicans ’ Green New Deal smears , a key sticking point on the issue of fracking remains .
As a reminder , hydraulic fracturing—aka fracking—involves shooting fluid into the earth to fracture shale rock and release natural gas .
In the mid-2000s , a fracking boom began in Pennsylvania ’ s resource-rich Marcellus Shale formation .
Aided by Obama-era policies—including loads of cheap debt—the natural @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Pennsylvania between 2007 and 2012 , according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics .
This boom came with significant costs to the environment and public health .
Fracking requires large amounts of water—up to 9.6 million gallons per well , according to the US Geological Survey .
Wastewater can contaminate surface water , while toxic chemicals involved in the extraction process have been found in aquifers .
Fracking also releases noxious fumes that can cause respiratory and cardiovascular problems as well as cancer and birth defects .
Research has shown that fracking fluid @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 5.8 on the Richter scale .
And while fracking was once considered a “ bridge fuel ” to renewable energy , recent studies suggest that methane flaring and leakage from fracked gas may be larger than previously thought .
In sum , this isn ’ t an ideal activity amid a respiratory-related pandemic and a world-historic climate crisis .
Unsurprisingly , fracking has become one of the defining issues in the fight for Pennsylvania ’ s 20 Electoral College votes , which went to Obama in 2012 and were key to Trump ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that Trump and Republicans are eager to brand Biden and Democrats as job-killing hippies , Biden and Harris have made it clear on multiple occasions that they would not ban fracking .
( Never mind that a president can ’ t do that without Congress . )
In two polls of likely voters nationwide , one conducted just days before the first presidential debate , and one immediately following the vice presidential debate , Data for Progress asked voters the same set of questions about three climate policies : Achieving a 100 percent @ @ @ @ @ @ @ $ 2 trillion investment in new clean-energy infrastructure , and a ban on fracking .
To measure how these policies might fare when faced with attacks , we presented voters with two different statements—one in favor of the Biden policy and one against it—and asked them to choose which they agreed with most .
The exact wording of these questions is reprinted below : 1 .
Which statement comes closer to your view ?
• The government should move the country to a 100 % clean energy electricity grid by 2035 to address @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The government should keep our current system where we use coal , oil and natural gas , as well as clean energy sources , to generate electricity based on what keeps energy prices low .
2 .
Which statement comes closer to your view ?
• The government should invest $ 2 trillion over the next four years to create millions of jobs rebuilding the nation ’ s infrastructure and transforming America into a clean-energy economy .
• The government should not waste $ 2 trillion dollars on politicians ’ pet projects because @ @ @ @ @ @ @ dramatically increase the national debt .
3 .
Which statement comes closer to your view ?
• The government should ban “ fracking , ” the process of extracting natural gas trapped underground , because natural gas is a fossil fuel that contributes to global warming and fracking creates air and water pollution around well sites .
• The government should not ban “ fracking ” because the natural gas industry employs hundreds of thousands of workers in good-paying jobs and natural gas is a cheap energy source that is much cleaner than @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Responses showed a slight but statistically significant movement on these climate policies as voters took cues from their party ’ s leaders .
Among all voters , support for a 2035 clean-electricity standard remained essentially constant before and after the debate at about 50 percent .
Support for a $ 2 trillion clean-energy infrastructure investment grew slightly , from 52 to 54 percent , though this was within the margin of error .
And , most notably , we observed significant movement away from a fracking ban , support for which dropped seven @ @ @ @ @ @ @ debates to 39 percent after them .
N N These trends are more pronounced among voters who self-identify as Democrats .
Democratic voters ’ support for a 2035 clean-electricity standard held steady after the debates at 67 percent .
Their support for a $ 2 trillion clean-energy infrastructure investment grew five points , from 66 percent to 71 percent .
And their support for a fracking ban dropped an eye-popping 16 points , from 65 percent to 49 percent .
N This , like so many other “ debates ” in the Trump @ @ @ @ @ @ @ A president can not ban fracking—only an act of Congress could do that , and environmentalists are a long way from getting the votes for such a move .
In the 116th Congress , legislation to ban fracking has just 21 cosponsors in the House , and Senator Bernie Sanders ’ s companion legislation in the Senate has just one lonely cosponsor .
Instead , lawmakers—like Biden and most of the Democratic Party—have said they are more likely to pursue regulatory approaches to curtail and in the longer term eventually phase out the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ against a fracking ban is certainly an unfortunate development , but it is not a catastrophic one , since a fracking ban was largely about expanding the boundaries of national debate , not something that could be realistically passed by Congress in the short term .
But with the data at our fingertips , we wonder if the time Biden and Harris spent rebutting Trump and Republicans ’ smears could have been better spent going on the offense instead .
Our research suggests that if Biden and Harris had been just as forceful @ @ @ @ @ @ @ trillion clean-energy investment and 2035 clean-electricity standard , they could have not only mobilized Democrats but also persuaded young people , Latinos , and swing voters to vote blue .
In other moments , Biden has gotten the formula right .
“ When Donald Trump thinks about climate change , the only word he can muster is ‘ hoax , ’ ” Biden told reporters back in July when he released his updated climate plans .
“ When I think about climate change , what I think of is jobs.
” Our research @ @ @ @ @ @ @ what the candidates are saying about these issues .
And when it comes to climate , clean energy , the environment , and now even the economy , it ’ s Republicans—not Democrats—who have painted themselves into a corner .
If they ’ re wise , the center-left party will turn things around , and it will be Trump and Republicans who will find themselves on their back foot at the next and final debate on October 22. from september 25 to september 27 , data for progress conducted a survey of 1,092 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
the sample was weighted to be representative of likely voters by age , gender , education , race , and voting history .
the survey was conducted in english .
the margin of error is +/- 3 percentage points .
then , from october 9 to october 11 , data for progress conducted a survey of 1,195 likely voters nationally using web panel respondents .
the sample was weighted to be representative of likely voters by age , gender , education , race , and voting history .
the survey was conducted @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is +/- 2.8 percentage points .

Julian Brave NoiseCat, Danielle Deiseroth

Subscribe to The Nation Subscribe now for as little as $2 a month! Subscribe now for as little as $2 a month!
Get The Nation’s Weekly Newsletter Fridays. The best of the week. Email By signing up, you confirm that you are over the age of 16 and agree to receive occasional promotional offers for programs that support The Nation’s journalism. You can read our Privacy Policy here. Fridays. The best of the week.
Thank you for signing up for The Nation’s weekly newsletter.
Repro Nation A monthly newsletter on the global fight for reproductive freedom. Email By signing up, you confirm that you are over the age of 16 and agree to receive occasional promotional offers for programs that support The Nation’s journalism. You can read our Privacy Policy here.
Thank you for signing up. For more from The Nation, check out our latest issue
Subscribe to The Nation Subscribe now for as little as $2 a month! Subscribe now for as little as $2 a month!
Support Progressive Journalism The Nation is reader supported: Chip in $10 or more to help us continue to write about the issues that matter. The Nation is reader supported: Chip in $10 or more to help us continue to write about the issues that matter.
Sign up for our Wine Club today. Did you know you can support The Nation by drinking wine?
One of President Donald Trump and Republicans’ favorite hobby horses on the campaign trail is the absurd notion that Joe Biden and Democrats would subject Americans to a “radical socialist Green New Deal.” The Grand Old Party would like voters to believe that Democrats are just an election away from abolishing hamburgers, pickup trucks, and airplanes, sending electricity bills through the roof, and putting all the workers on unemployment insurance. Both Trump and Vice President Mike Pence hurled these familiar attacks against former vice president Joe Biden and Senator Kamala Harris during the presidential and vice presidential debates. While Data for Progress has observed that voters in fact support Biden’s plan for a massive investment in clean-energy jobs and do not believe Trump and Republicans’ Green New Deal smears, a key sticking point on the issue of fracking remains.
As a reminder, hydraulic fracturing—aka fracking—involves shooting fluid into the earth to fracture shale rock and release natural gas. In the mid-2000s, a fracking boom began in Pennsylvania’s resource-rich Marcellus Shale formation. Aided by Obama-era policies—including loads of cheap debt—the natural gas industry created over 10,000 jobs in Pennsylvania between 2007 and 2012, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics.
This boom came with significant costs to the environment and public health. Fracking requires large amounts of water—up to 9.6 million gallons per well, according to the US Geological Survey. Wastewater can contaminate surface water, while toxic chemicals involved in the extraction process have been found in aquifers. Fracking also releases noxious fumes that can cause respiratory and cardiovascular problems as well as cancer and birth defects. Research has shown that fracking fluid injection has induced earthquakes as large as 5.8 on the Richter scale. And while fracking was once considered a “bridge fuel” to renewable energy, recent studies suggest that methane flaring and leakage from fracked gas may be larger than previously thought. In sum, this isn’t an ideal activity amid a respiratory-related pandemic and a world-historic climate crisis.
Unsurprisingly, fracking has become one of the defining issues in the fight for Pennsylvania’s 20 Electoral College votes, which went to Obama in 2012 and were key to Trump’s narrow victory in 2016. Aware that Trump and Republicans are eager to brand Biden and Democrats as job-killing hippies, Biden and Harris have made it clear on multiple occasions that they would not ban fracking. (Never mind that a president can’t do that without Congress.) Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin How the “Brooks Brothers Riot” Set the Stage for Insurrection How the “Brooks Brothers Riot” Set the Stage for Insurrection Chris Lehmann Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin How the “Brooks Brothers Riot” Set the Stage for Insurrection How the “Brooks Brothers Riot” Set the Stage for Insurrection Chris Lehmann
In two polls of likely voters nationwide, one conducted just days before the first presidential debate, and one immediately following the vice presidential debate, Data for Progress asked voters the same set of questions about three climate policies: Achieving a 100 percent carbon-pollution-free electricity grid by 2035, a $2 trillion investment in new clean-energy infrastructure, and a ban on fracking. To measure how these policies might fare when faced with attacks, we presented voters with two different statements—one in favor of the Biden policy and one against it—and asked them to choose which they agreed with most. The exact wording of these questions is reprinted below:
1. Which statement comes closer to your view?
• The government should move the country to a 100% clean energy electricity grid by 2035 to address climate change and reduce pollution.
• The government should keep our current system where we use coal, oil and natural gas, as well as clean energy sources, to generate electricity based on what keeps energy prices low.
• Don’t know
2. Which statement comes closer to your view?
• The government should invest $2 trillion over the next four years to create millions of jobs rebuilding the nation’s infrastructure and transforming America into a clean-energy economy.
• The government should not waste $2 trillion dollars on politicians’ pet projects because it is wasteful government spending that will dramatically increase the national debt.
• Don’t know.
3. Which statement comes closer to your view?
• The government should ban “fracking,” the process of extracting natural gas trapped underground, because natural gas is a fossil fuel that contributes to global warming and fracking creates air and water pollution around well sites.
• The government should not ban “fracking” because the natural gas industry employs hundreds of thousands of workers in good-paying jobs and natural gas is a cheap energy source that is much cleaner than other fuels like oil and coal.
• Don’t know.
Responses showed a slight but statistically significant movement on these climate policies as voters took cues from their party’s leaders. Among all voters, support for a 2035 clean-electricity standard remained essentially constant before and after the debate at about 50 percent. Support for a $2 trillion clean-energy infrastructure investment grew slightly, from 52 to 54 percent, though this was within the margin of error. And, most notably, we observed significant movement away from a fracking ban, support for which dropped seven points, from 46 percent before the debates to 39 percent after them.
N
N
These trends are more pronounced among voters who self-identify as Democrats. Democratic voters’ support for a 2035 clean-electricity standard held steady after the debates at 67 percent. Their support for a $2 trillion clean-energy infrastructure investment grew five points, from 66 percent to 71 percent. And their support for a fracking ban dropped an eye-popping 16 points, from 65 percent to 49 percent.
Polling before and after these debates shows asymmetric polarization on crucial climate policy issues happening in more or less real time. As Trump and Pence tried to associate Biden and Harris with a fracking ban—a policy Republicans believe could prevent Democrats from winning Pennsylvania—the Democratic nominees quickly and emphatically clarified that was not their platform. Across the country, their voters heard them loud and clear. Democrats nationwide are now less likely to express support for a fracking ban than they were in September.
This, like so many other “debates” in the Trump era, feels like a sideshow. A president cannot ban fracking—only an act of Congress could do that, and environmentalists are a long way from getting the votes for such a move. In the 116th Congress, legislation to ban fracking has just 21 cosponsors in the House, and Senator Bernie Sanders’s companion legislation in the Senate has just one lonely cosponsor. Instead, lawmakers—like Biden and most of the Democratic Party—have said they are more likely to pursue regulatory approaches to curtail and in the longer term eventually phase out the industry. In this light, movement against a fracking ban is certainly an unfortunate development, but it is not a catastrophic one, since a fracking ban was largely about expanding the boundaries of national debate, not something that could be realistically passed by Congress in the short term.
But with the data at our fingertips, we wonder if the time Biden and Harris spent rebutting Trump and Republicans’ smears could have been better spent going on the offense instead. Our research suggests that if Biden and Harris had been just as forceful in their promotion of their $2 trillion clean-energy investment and 2035 clean-electricity standard, they could have not only mobilized Democrats but also persuaded young people, Latinos, and swing voters to vote blue. In other moments, Biden has gotten the formula right. “When Donald Trump thinks about climate change, the only word he can muster is ‘hoax,’” Biden told reporters back in July when he released his updated climate plans. “When I think about climate change, what I think of is jobs.” Our research shows that voters are paying attention to what the candidates are saying about these issues. And when it comes to climate, clean energy, the environment, and now even the economy, it’s Republicans—not Democrats—who have painted themselves into a corner. If they’re wise, the center-left party will turn things around, and it will be Trump and Republicans who will find themselves on their back foot at the next and final debate on October 22.
Survey Methodology
from september 25 to september 27, data for progress conducted a survey of 1,092 likely voters nationally using web panel respondents. the sample was weighted to be representative of likely voters by age, gender, education, race, and voting history. the survey was conducted in english. the margin of error is +/- 3 percentage points.
then, from october 9 to october 11, data for progress conducted a survey of 1,195 likely voters nationally using web panel respondents. the sample was weighted to be representative of likely voters by age, gender, education, race, and voting history. the survey was conducted in english. the margin of error is +/- 2.8 percentage points.


thenation--2020-10-21--Labor, Land, and Legacy: What New Might We Grow in the Shell of the Old?

ersey ity , Our diasporic family lives between three places , at least figuratively : the United States , Ecuador , and Egypt .
Ecuador was hit hardest by the pandemic in regions where migrants had returned home from Spain , bringing the virus with them .
Images of dead bodies deserted in the streets of Guayaquil made my mom ’ s anxiety about Covid-19 soar .
For weeks , my parents would not even walk Pechochito , their feisty Pomeranian , around the block .
And so , I did what any loving ( and newly unemployed ) first-generation @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of their grocery shopping , and their business ; I became an interim landlord .
When I collect the rent at their walk-up buildings in the Heights , I use my staccato Spanglish and the smattering of Arabic phrases I am likely butchering .
I try to make small talk with the tenants .
How are they doing ?
Some are willing to chat , others not .
Not everyone wears a mask when they hand me cash , which I am terrible at counting .
Sometimes they look at my gloves with @ @ @ @ @ @ @ uneasy smile that ’ s hidden behind my mask ?
Does it show in my eyes ?
Does it matter ?
My first day on the job , a tenant I ’ ll call Eduardo told me he could pay April , but likely not May , and from there , who knows ?
He lost his job at a local restaurant , and his wife , a few months pregnant with their first child , had also been laid off .
When he handed me a wad of cash—singles , 20s , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ first if they had enough for food .
He assured me they did , for now .
My parents met while learning English in the 1970s , beneficiaries of the 1965 Hart-Cellars Act , which lifted long-standing racist quotas on emigration from Africa , Asia , and Latin America .
My Ecuadorian mom swore my Egyptian dad was Puerto Rican and too proud to speak Spanish , while he thought she was Filipina .
He worked as a busboy at Knickerbocker restaurant ; she , as a secretary at a ribbon factory .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ secretly within a few months ’ time , much to my abuelita ’ s chagrin .
They managed to learn a second language together without sharing a first .
And over 40-plus years built a family , and a few small businesses—between , around , and through those pregnant pauses anyone using a second language knows well .
On the Road During a Pandemic , From Austin , Texas , to Metro D.C. More in this series Our Place was one of those businesses , a greasy spoon that never knew the luxury @ @ @ @ @ @ @ life .
Regular customers like Ralph and Neil would scoop up my siblings from school and walk them to the back of the restaurant , where I entertained myself in a makeshift playpen while my parents served up generously portioned meals for $ 5 or less .
Our Place would be hurting in this crisis .
The response of local and federal governments to protect the small immigrant-run businesses that are the lifeblood of Jersey City has been anemic .
Many have closed permanently .
Now , we are the landlords of those @ @ @ @ @ @ @ staircase ) removed from the front line of this economic crisis , but a part of it no less .
My parents became landlords after experiencing the powerlessness of being displaced tenants .
A new landlord didn ’ t renew the lease to their restaurant , a coffee shop in New York City called Straw Place , on 23rd and Lexington .
They never wanted to be in the “ pocket ” of a landlord again—so they became one , eventually , where it was more within their means : Jersey City .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ similar lived experiences .
It informs how my parents have handled the peculiar profession of owning and managing the property where other people make their homes and livelihoods .
Eduardo started working again .
His wife—call her Amelia—is due any day now .
She mentioned that Christ Hospital , which is within walking distance , is no longer accepting maternity patients because of Covid concerns .
She said she ’ ll have to go to the Medical Center instead .
I gave her my phone number in case she needs a ride .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ at tiny produce shops .
Others have been on Section 8 or disability as long as they ’ ve been our tenants , and the pandemic has yet to affect their ability to make rent .
Others are furloughed or , worse , unemployed .
Not all are eligible for government support .
For those who ’ ve had trouble making rent , we ’ ve set up payment plans .
Some have used their security deposits ; and are set to pay that back , little by little .
Others are getting @ @ @ @ @ @ @ friends .
Thus far , everyone has been managing with this piecemeal solution to a systemic problem .
And if it at some point it stops “ working , ” it means that we can ’ t pay our insurance , property repairs , taxes , or incomes .
My father may sell one of the buildings .
The other day he led interested parties up the long narrow stairway , leaning on his cane for support .
Nearly every tenant opened the door and exchanged niceties with him , but they refused @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Sometimes , my dad is direct about his desire for me to take over the family business .
Before the pandemic , I had never seriously considered it .
I had preferred to observe , to make films , to protest , to write and fundraise for social justice nonprofits imagining alternatives to the rat race that is late-stage racial capitalism .
That ’ s how we make change , right ?
By raising awareness ?
I had never considered myself to be a responsible party , an agent , someone to be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ becomes more possible when we bring ourselves into the frame ?
Arundhati Roy urges us to understand the pandemic as a “ portal , a gateway between one world and the next.
” Families at the front line of this crisis are taking urgent direct action to protect themselves and their loved ones by organizing rent strikes and occupying vacant homes .
The calls to cancel the rent continue .
As Jersey City edges further toward the unaffordable , violent blandness synonymous with gentrification by the Trumps and Kushners of real estate , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , at their discretion , keep the city vaguely affordable for working-class immigrants and people of color .
Systemic solutions to the speculative market and displacement , like community land trusts , are sorely needed .
Now , I wonder : For those of us with a modicum of privilege and power , what ’ s our place , our cross-class contribution to opening this “ pandemic portal ” ?
Which “ dead ideas ” will we try to shoehorn through ?
What new can we grow , in the shell of the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ we often only talk about , and usher in a new phase in our relationship to land and ownership ?
What can we make of our labor and legacy ?
Scenes From a Pandemic is a collaboration between The Nation and Kopkind , a living memorial to radical journalist Andrew Kopkind , who from 1982–94 was the magazine ’ s chief political writer and analyst .
This series of dispatches from Kopkind ’ s far-flung network of participants , advisers , guests , and friends is edited by Nation contributor and Kopkind program @ @ @ @ @ @ @ on thenation.com and kopkind.org .

J ersey C ity, N.J.— Our diasporic family lives between three places, at least figuratively: the United States, Ecuador, and Egypt. Ecuador was hit hardest by the pandemic in regions where migrants had returned home from Spain, bringing the virus with them. Images of dead bodies deserted in the streets of Guayaquil made my mom’s anxiety about Covid-19 soar. For weeks, my parents would not even walk Pechochito, their feisty Pomeranian, around the block. And so, I did what any loving (and newly unemployed) first-generation daughter would do: I took care of their grocery shopping, and their business; I became an interim landlord.
When I collect the rent at their walk-up buildings in the Heights, I use my staccato Spanglish and the smattering of Arabic phrases I am likely butchering. I try to make small talk with the tenants. How are they doing? Some are willing to chat, others not. Not everyone wears a mask when they hand me cash, which I am terrible at counting. Sometimes they look at my gloves with a smirk. Can they see the uneasy smile that’s hidden behind my mask? Does it show in my eyes? Does it matter?
My first day on the job, a tenant I’ll call Eduardo told me he could pay April, but likely not May, and from there, who knows? He lost his job at a local restaurant, and his wife, a few months pregnant with their first child, had also been laid off. When he handed me a wad of cash—singles, 20s, a few 50s to count—I asked him first if they had enough for food. He assured me they did, for now.
My parents met while learning English in the 1970s, beneficiaries of the 1965 Hart-Cellars Act, which lifted long-standing racist quotas on emigration from Africa, Asia, and Latin America. My Ecuadorian mom swore my Egyptian dad was Puerto Rican and too proud to speak Spanish, while he thought she was Filipina. He worked as a busboy at Knickerbocker restaurant; she, as a secretary at a ribbon factory. Barely 20 years old, they married secretly within a few months’ time, much to my abuelita’s chagrin. They managed to learn a second language together without sharing a first. And over 40-plus years built a family, and a few small businesses—between, around, and through those pregnant pauses anyone using a second language knows well. Scenes From a Pandemic Untethered, or The Year of Living Virtually Patricia J. Williams The Art of the Meal Mary Lewis Maybe We Shouldn’t Go Back to Normal Bri M.
Our Place was one of those businesses, a greasy spoon that never knew the luxury of a separation between work and home life. Regular customers like Ralph and Neil would scoop up my siblings from school and walk them to the back of the restaurant, where I entertained myself in a makeshift playpen while my parents served up generously portioned meals for $5 or less. Our Place would be hurting in this crisis. The response of local and federal governments to protect the small immigrant-run businesses that are the lifeblood of Jersey City has been anemic. Many have closed permanently.
Now, we are the landlords of those small businesses, a step (or staircase) removed from the front line of this economic crisis, but a part of it no less. My parents became landlords after experiencing the powerlessness of being displaced tenants. A new landlord didn’t renew the lease to their restaurant, a coffee shop in New York City called Straw Place, on 23rd and Lexington. They never wanted to be in the “pocket” of a landlord again—so they became one, eventually, where it was more within their means: Jersey City. There’s empathy that comes from similar lived experiences. It informs how my parents have handled the peculiar profession of owning and managing the property where other people make their homes and livelihoods. Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin How the “Brooks Brothers Riot” Set the Stage for Insurrection How the “Brooks Brothers Riot” Set the Stage for Insurrection Chris Lehmann Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin How the “Brooks Brothers Riot” Set the Stage for Insurrection How the “Brooks Brothers Riot” Set the Stage for Insurrection Chris Lehmann
Eduardo started working again. His wife—call her Amelia—is due any day now. She mentioned that Christ Hospital, which is within walking distance, is no longer accepting maternity patients because of Covid concerns. She said she’ll have to go to the Medical Center instead. I gave her my phone number in case she needs a ride. Current Issue View our current issue
Some of our tenants are essential workers at tiny produce shops. Others have been on Section 8 or disability as long as they’ve been our tenants, and the pandemic has yet to affect their ability to make rent. Others are furloughed or, worse, unemployed. Not all are eligible for government support.
For those who’ve had trouble making rent, we’ve set up payment plans. Some have used their security deposits; and are set to pay that back, little by little. Others are getting by with help from their family or friends. Thus far, everyone has been managing with this piecemeal solution to a systemic problem. And if it at some point it stops “working,” it means that we can’t pay our insurance, property repairs, taxes, or incomes.
My father may sell one of the buildings. The other day he led interested parties up the long narrow stairway, leaning on his cane for support. Nearly every tenant opened the door and exchanged niceties with him, but they refused to allow the prospective owner in.
Sometimes, my dad is direct about his desire for me to take over the family business. Before the pandemic, I had never seriously considered it. I had preferred to observe, to make films, to protest, to write and fundraise for social justice nonprofits imagining alternatives to the rat race that is late-stage racial capitalism. That’s how we make change, right? By raising awareness? I had never considered myself to be a responsible party, an agent, someone to be held to account. Yet, what becomes more possible when we bring ourselves into the frame?
Arundhati Roy urges us to understand the pandemic as a “portal, a gateway between one world and the next.” Families at the front line of this crisis are taking urgent direct action to protect themselves and their loved ones by organizing rent strikes and occupying vacant homes. The calls to cancel the rent continue.
As Jersey City edges further toward the unaffordable, violent blandness synonymous with gentrification by the Trumps and Kushners of real estate, it is the mom-and -pop landlords who, at their discretion, keep the city vaguely affordable for working-class immigrants and people of color. Systemic solutions to the speculative market and displacement, like community land trusts, are sorely needed.
Now, I wonder: For those of us with a modicum of privilege and power, what’s our place, our cross-class contribution to opening this “pandemic portal”? Which “dead ideas” will we try to shoehorn through? What new can we grow, in the shell of the old? Can we apply the imagination we often only talk about, and usher in a new phase in our relationship to land and ownership? What can we make of our labor and legacy?
Scenes From a Pandemic is a collaboration between The Nation and Kopkind, a living memorial to radical journalist Andrew Kopkind, who from 1982–94 was the magazine’s chief political writer and analyst. This series of dispatches from Kopkind’s far-flung network of participants, advisers, guests, and friends is edited by Nation contributor and Kopkind program director JoAnn Wypijewski, and appears weekly on thenation.com and kopkind.org.


thenation--2020-10-21--Will Union Workers Flip Nevada?

Will Union Workers Flip Nevada?

“ Look , folks , the air quality is in the red zone today .
The EPA says that means people with lung or heart issues should avoid prolonged activity outdoors.
” That was J.R. de Vera , one of two directors of UNITE-HERE !
’ s independent expenditure campaign to elect Biden and Harris in Reno , Nev. UNITE-HERE !
is a union representing 300,000 workers in the hospitality industry—that world of hotels and bars , restaurants and caterers .
Ninety percent of its members are now laid off because of Donald Trump ’ s bungling of the Covid-19 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ chance to help get him out of the White House .
“ So some of you will want to stay in your hotel rooms and make phone calls today , ” JR continues .
Fifty faces fall in the 50 little Zoom boxes on my laptop screen .
Canvassers would much rather be talking to voters at their doors than calling them on a phone bank .
Still , here in the burning , smoking West , the union is as committed to its own people ’ s health and safety as it @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
So , for many of them , phone calls it will be .
My own job doesn ’ t change much from day to day .
Though I live in San Francisco , I ’ ve come to Reno to do back-room logistics work in the union campaign ’ s cavernous warehouse of an office : ordering supplies , processing reimbursements , and occasionally helping the data team make maps of the areas our canvassers will walk .
Our field campaign is just one of several the union is running in key @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Arizona and Florida and , only last week , we began door-to-door canvassing in Philadelphia .
Social media , TV ads , bulk mail , and phone calls are all crucial elements in any modern electoral campaign , but none of them is a substitute for face-to-face conversations with voters .
We ’ ve been in Reno since early August , building what was , until last week , the only field campaign in the state supporting Joe Biden and Kamala Harris .
( Just recently , our success in campaigning safely has @ @ @ @ @ @ @ own ground game here and elsewhere . )
We know exactly how many doors we have to knock on , how many Biden voters we have to identify , how many of them we have to convince to make a concrete voting plan , and how many we have to get out to vote during Nevada ’ s two-week early voting period to win here .
We ’ re running a much larger campaign in Clark County , where close to three-quarters of Nevada ’ s population lives ( mostly in Las Vegas @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the twin cities of Reno and Sparks , is the next-largest population center , with 16 percent of Nevadans .
The remaining 14 counties , collectively known as “ the Rurals , ” account for the rest .
Washoe and Clark are barely blue ; the Rurals , decidedly red .
In 2018 , UNITE-HERE !
’ s ground campaign helped ensure that Jacky Rosen would flip a previously Republican Senate seat , and we helped elect Democrat Steve Sisolak as governor .
He ’ s proved a valuable union ally , signing @ @ @ @ @ @ @ law protecting workers and businesses in Nevada from the worst effects of the Covid-19 pandemic .
Defying a threatened Trump campaign lawsuit ( later dismissed by a judge ) , Sisolak also signed an election reform bill that allows every active Nevada voter to receive a mail-in ballot .
Largely as a result of the union ’ s work in 2018 , this state now boasts an all-female Democratic senatorial delegation , a Democratic governor , and a female and Democratic majority in the state legislature .
Elections , as pundits of all @ @ @ @ @ @ @ have consequences .
Each morning ’ s online canvass dispatch meeting starts with that call-and-response followed by a rousing handclap .
Then we talk about where people will be walking that day and often listen to one of the canvassers ’ personal stories , explaining why he or she is committed to this campaign .
Next , we take a look at the day ’ s forecast for heat and air quality as vast parts of the West Coast burn , while smoke and ash travel enormous distances .
Temperatures here were in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ hovering around 115 degrees in Las Vegas ) .
And the air ?
Let ’ s just say that there have been days when I ’ ve wished breathing were optional .
Climate-change activists rightly point out that “ there ’ s no Planet B ” for the human race , but some days it seems as if our canvassers are already working on a fiery Planet A that is rapidly becoming unlivable .
California ’ s wildfires—including its first-ever “ gigafire ” —have consumed more than 4 million acres in the last @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to record heights , and dumping a staggering amount of smoke into the Reno-Sparks basin .
Things are a little better at the moment , but for weeks I couldn ’ t see the desert mountains that surround the area .
Some days I couldn ’ t even make out the Grand Sierra Reno casino , a quarter-mile from the highway on which I drive to work each morning .
For our canvassers—almost every one a laid-off waiter , bartender , hotel housekeeper , or casino worker—the climate emergency and the Covid-19 pandemic @ @ @ @ @ @ @ don their N95 masks to walk the streets of Reno .
It ’ s the same for the voters they meet at their doors .
Each evening , canvassers report ( on Zoom , of course ) what those voters are saying and , for the first time I can remember , they are now talking about the climate .
They ’ re angry at a president who pulled the United States out of the Paris climate accord and they ’ re scared about what a potentially searing future holds for their children @ @ @ @ @ @ @ read Joe Biden ’ s position on clean energy and environmental justice , but they know that Donald Trump has no such plan .
In his classic book Guns , Germs , and Steel , Jared Diamond suggested that the three variables in his title helped in large part to explain how European societies and the United States came to control much of the planet in the 20th century .
As it happens , our door-to-door canvassers confront a similar triad of obstacles right here in Reno ( if you replace that final @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ) .
Nevada is an open-carry state and gun ownership is common here .
It ’ s not unusual to see someone walking around a supermarket with a holstered pistol on his hip .
A 2015 state law ended most gun registration requirements and another allows people visiting from elsewhere to buy rifles without a permit .
So gun sightings are everyday events .
Still , it can be startling , if you ’ re not used to it , to have a voter answer the door with a pistol all too visible @ @ @ @ @ @ @ occasionally , our canvassers have even watched those guns leave their holsters when the person at the door realizes why they ’ re there ( which is when the campaign gets the police involved ) .
Canvassers are trained to observe very clear protocols , including immediately leaving an area if they experience any kind of verbal or physical threat .
African American and Latinx canvassers who ’ ve campaigned before in Reno say that in 2020 Trump supporters seem even more emboldened than in the past to shout racist insults at them @ @ @ @ @ @ @ called the police on our folks , essentially accusing them of canvassing-while-Black-or-brown .
Two days before I wrote this piece , the police pulled over one young Latino door-knocker because neighbors had called to complain that he was walking up and down the street waving a gun .
( The “ gun ” in question was undoubtedly the electronic tablet he was carrying to record the results of conversations with voters . )
The officer apologized .
Which reminds me of another apology offered recently .
A woman approached an African American canvasser @ @ @ @ @ @ @ world he was doing in her neighborhood .
On learning his mission , she offered an apology as insulting as her original question .
“ We ’ re not used to seeing people like you around here , ” she explained .
Until the pandemic , my partner and I had planned to work together with UNITE-HERE !
in Reno during this election , as we did in 2018 .
But she ’ s five years older than I am , and her history of pneumonia means that catching Covid-19 could be especially @ @ @ @ @ @ @ s stayed in San Francisco , helping out the union ’ s national phone bank effort instead .
In fact , we didn ’ t really expect that there would be a ground campaign this year , given the difficulties presented by the novel coronavirus .
But the union was determined to eke out that small but genuine addition to the vote that a field campaign can produce .
So they put in place stringent health protocols for all of us : masks and a minimum of six feet of distance between everyone @ @ @ @ @ @ @ bars , restaurants , or casinos , including during off hours ; temperature checks for everyone entering the office ; and the immediate reporting of any potential Covid-19 symptoms to our health and safety officer .
Before the union rented blocks of rooms at two extended-stay hotels , our head of operations checked their mask protocols for employees and guests and examined their ventilation systems to make sure that the air conditioners vented directly outdoors and not into a common air system for the whole building .
To date , not one of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a record we intend to maintain as we add another 17 full-timers to our team next week .
One other feature of our coronavirus protocol : We don ’ t talk to any voter who won ’ t put on a mask .
I was skeptical that canvassers would be able to get voters to mask up , even with the individually wrapped surgical masks we ’ re offering anyone who doesn ’ t have one on or handy .
However , it turns out that , in this bizarre election year , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ vent their feelings and be heard .
So many of the people we ’ re canvassing have suffered so much this year that they ’ re surprised and pleased when someone shows up at their door wondering how they ’ re doing .
And the answer to that question for so many potential voters is not well—with jobs lost , housing threatened , children struggling with online school , and hunger pangs an increasingly everyday part of life .
So yes , a surprising number of people , either already masked or quite @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to talk to us about an election that they generally see as the most important of their lifetime .
And did I mention that it ’ s been smoky here ?
It can make your eyes water , your throat burn , and the urge to cough overwhelm you .
In fact , the symptoms of smoke exposure are eerily similar to the ones for Covid-19 .
More than one smoke-affected canvasser has spent at least five days isolated in a hotel room , waiting for negative coronavirus test results .
The White @ @ @ @ @ @ @ his administration ’ s testing record : “ We do tremendous testing .
We have the best testing in the world.
” Washoe County health officials are doing what they can , but if this is the best in the world , then the world is in worse shape than we thought .
So why , given the genuine risk and obstacles they face , do UNITE-HERE !
’ s canvassers knock on doors six days a week to elect Joe Biden and Kamala Harris ?
Their answers are a perfect embodiment of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ political.
” Every one of them has a story about why she or he is here .
More than one grew up homeless and never want another child to live that way .
One is a DACA recipient who knows that a reelected Donald Trump will continue his crusade to end that amnesty for undocumented people brought to the United States as children .
Through their participation in union activism , many have come to understand that workers really can beat the boss when they organize—and Trump , they say , is the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ of political campaigning , the union ’ s leaders have learned that voters may think about issues , but they ’ re moved to vote by what they feel about them .
The goal of every conversation at those doors right now is to make a brief but profound personal connection with the voter , to get each of them to feel just how important it is to vote this year .
Canvassers do this by asking how a voter is doing in these difficult times and listening—genuinely listening—and responding to whatever answer @ @ @ @ @ @ @ by being vulnerable enough to share the personal stories that lie behind their presence at the voter ’ s front door .
One canvasser lost his home at the age of 7 , when his parents separated .
He and his mother ended up staying in shelters and camping for months in a garden shed on a friend ’ s property .
One day recently , he knocked on a door and found a Trump supporter on the other side of it .
He noticed a shed near the house , pointed to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ living in something similar as a child .
That Trumpster started to cry .
He began talking about how he ’ d had just the same experience and the way , as a teenager , he ’ d had to hold his family together when his heroin-addicted parents couldn ’ t cope .
He ’ d never talked to any of his present-day friends about how he grew up and , in the course of that conversation , came to agree with our canvasser that Donald Trump wasn ’ t likely to improve @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was , he said , changing his vote to Biden right then and there .
( And that canvasser will be back to make sure he actually votes . )
Harvard University Professor Marshall Ganz pioneered the “ public narrative , ” the practice of organizing by storytelling .
It ’ s found at the heart of many organizing efforts these days .
The 2008 Obama campaign , for example , trained thousands of volunteers to tell their stories to potential voters .
The It Gets Better Project has collected more than 50,000 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ LGBTQ youth who might be considering suicide or other kinds of self-harm—assuring them that their own lives did , indeed , get better .
Being the sort of political junkie who devours the news daily , I was skeptical about the power of this approach , though I probably shouldn ’ t have been .
After all , how many times did I ask my mother or father to “ tell me a story ” when I was a kid ?
What are our lives but stories ?
Human beings are narrative animals @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in the issues we may sometimes be , we still live through stories .
Data can give me information on issues I care about , but it can ’ t tell me what issues I should care about .
In the end , I ’ m concerned about racial and gender justice as well as the climate emergency because of the way each of them affects people and other creatures with whom I feel connected .
A Campaign Within a Campaign Perhaps the most inspiring aspect of UNITE-HERE !
’ s electoral campaign @ @ @ @ @ @ @ developing every canvasser ’ s leadership skills .
The goal is more than winning what ’ s undoubtedly the most important election of our lifetime .
It ’ s also to send back to every hotel , restaurant , casino , and airport catering service leaders who can continue to organize and advocate for their working-class sisters and brothers .
This means implementing an individual development plan for each canvasser .
Team leaders work with all of them to hone their stories into tools that can be used in an honest and generous @ @ @ @ @ @ @ voters .
They help those canvassers think about what else they want to learn to do , while developing opportunities for them to master technical tools like computer spreadsheets and databases .
There ’ s a special emphasis on offering such opportunities to women and people of color who make up the vast majority of the union ’ s membership .
Precious hours of campaign time are also devoted to workshops on how to understand and confront systemic racism and combat sexual harassment , subjects President Trump is acquainted with in the most @ @ @ @ @ @ @ its success depends as much on fostering a culture of respect as on the hard-nosed negotiating it ’ s also famous for .
After months of pandemic lockdown and almost four years of what has objectively been the worst , most corrupt , most incompetent , and possibly even most destructive presidency in the nation ’ s history , it ’ s a relief to be able to do something useful again .
And sentimental as it may sound , it ’ s an honor to be able to do it with this @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Sí , se puede .
Yes , we can .

EDITOR’S NOTE: This article originally appeared at TomDispatch.com. To stay on top of important articles like these, sign up to receive the latest updates from TomDispatch.
Subscribe to The Nation Subscribe now for as little as $2 a month! Subscribe now for as little as $2 a month!
Get The Nation’s Weekly Newsletter Fridays. The best of the week. Email By signing up, you confirm that you are over the age of 16 and agree to receive occasional promotional offers for programs that support The Nation’s journalism. You can read our Privacy Policy here. Fridays. The best of the week.
Thank you for signing up for The Nation’s weekly newsletter.
Repro Nation A monthly newsletter on the global fight for reproductive freedom. Email By signing up, you confirm that you are over the age of 16 and agree to receive occasional promotional offers for programs that support The Nation’s journalism. You can read our Privacy Policy here.
Thank you for signing up. For more from The Nation, check out our latest issue
Subscribe to The Nation Subscribe now for as little as $2 a month! Subscribe now for as little as $2 a month!
Support Progressive Journalism The Nation is reader supported: Chip in $10 or more to help us continue to write about the issues that matter. The Nation is reader supported: Chip in $10 or more to help us continue to write about the issues that matter.
Sign up for our Wine Club today. Did you know you can support The Nation by drinking wine?
“Look, folks, the air quality is in the red zone today. The EPA says that means people with lung or heart issues should avoid prolonged activity outdoors.”
That was J.R. de Vera, one of two directors of UNITE-HERE!’s independent expenditure campaign to elect Biden and Harris in Reno, Nev. UNITE-HERE! is a union representing 300,000 workers in the hospitality industry—that world of hotels and bars, restaurants and caterers. Ninety percent of its members are now laid off because of Donald Trump’s bungling of the Covid-19 pandemic and many are glad for the chance to help get him out of the White House.
“So some of you will want to stay in your hotel rooms and make phone calls today,” JR continues. Fifty faces fall in the 50 little Zoom boxes on my laptop screen. Canvassers would much rather be talking to voters at their doors than calling them on a phone bank. Still, here in the burning, smoking West, the union is as committed to its own people’s health and safety as it is to dragging Trump out of office. So, for many of them, phone calls it will be.
My own job doesn’t change much from day to day. Though I live in San Francisco, I’ve come to Reno to do back-room logistics work in the union campaign’s cavernous warehouse of an office: ordering supplies, processing reimbursements, and occasionally helping the data team make maps of the areas our canvassers will walk.
Our field campaign is just one of several the union is running in key states. We’re also in Arizona and Florida and, only last week, we began door-to-door canvassing in Philadelphia. Social media, TV ads, bulk mail, and phone calls are all crucial elements in any modern electoral campaign, but none of them is a substitute for face-to-face conversations with voters.
We’ve been in Reno since early August, building what was, until last week, the only field campaign in the state supporting Joe Biden and Kamala Harris. (Just recently, our success in campaigning safely has encouraged the Democratic Party to start its own ground game here and elsewhere.) We know exactly how many doors we have to knock on, how many Biden voters we have to identify, how many of them we have to convince to make a concrete voting plan, and how many we have to get out to vote during Nevada’s two-week early voting period to win here. Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin How the “Brooks Brothers Riot” Set the Stage for Insurrection How the “Brooks Brothers Riot” Set the Stage for Insurrection Chris Lehmann Popular "swipe left below to view more authors"Swipe → The Evisceration of a Public University The Evisceration of a Public University Lisa M. Corrigan The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks The Patronizing Moralism of David Brooks Chris Lehmann “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash “The Blind Side” Was Always Trash Dave Zirin How the “Brooks Brothers Riot” Set the Stage for Insurrection How the “Brooks Brothers Riot” Set the Stage for Insurrection Chris Lehmann
We’re running a much larger campaign in Clark County, where close to three-quarters of Nevada’s population lives (mostly in Las Vegas). Washoe County, home of the twin cities of Reno and Sparks, is the next-largest population center, with 16 percent of Nevadans. The remaining 14 counties, collectively known as “the Rurals,” account for the rest. Washoe and Clark are barely blue; the Rurals, decidedly red. Current Issue View our current issue
In 2018, UNITE-HERE!’s ground campaign helped ensure that Jacky Rosen would flip a previously Republican Senate seat, and we helped elect Democrat Steve Sisolak as governor. He’s proved a valuable union ally, signing the Adolfo Fernandez Act, a first-in-the-nation law protecting workers and businesses in Nevada from the worst effects of the Covid-19 pandemic.
Defying a threatened Trump campaign lawsuit (later dismissed by a judge), Sisolak also signed an election reform bill that allows every active Nevada voter to receive a mail-in ballot. Largely as a result of the union’s work in 2018, this state now boasts an all-female Democratic senatorial delegation, a Democratic governor, and a female and Democratic majority in the state legislature. Elections, as pundits of all stripes have been known to say, have consequences.
Door-to-Door on Planet A
“¿Se puede, o no se puede?”
“¡Sí, se puede!”
(“Can we do it?” “Yes, we can!”)
Each morning’s online canvass dispatch meeting starts with that call-and-response followed by a rousing handclap. Then we talk about where people will be walking that day and often listen to one of the canvassers’ personal stories, explaining why he or she is committed to this campaign. Next, we take a look at the day’s forecast for heat and air quality as vast parts of the West Coast burn, while smoke and ash travel enormous distances. Temperatures here were in the low 100s in August (often hovering around 115 degrees in Las Vegas). And the air? Let’s just say that there have been days when I’ve wished breathing were optional.
Climate-change activists rightly point out that “there’s no Planet B” for the human race, but some days it seems as if our canvassers are already working on a fiery Planet A that is rapidly becoming unlivable. California’s wildfires—including its first-ever “gigafire”—have consumed more than 4 million acres in the last two months, sending plumes of ash to record heights, and dumping a staggering amount of smoke into the Reno-Sparks basin. Things are a little better at the moment, but for weeks I couldn’t see the desert mountains that surround the area. Some days I couldn’t even make out the Grand Sierra Reno casino, a quarter-mile from the highway on which I drive to work each morning.
For our canvassers—almost every one a laid-off waiter, bartender, hotel housekeeper, or casino worker—the climate emergency and the Covid-19 pandemic are literally in their faces as they don their N95 masks to walk the streets of Reno. It’s the same for the voters they meet at their doors. Each evening, canvassers report (on Zoom, of course) what those voters are saying and, for the first time I can remember, they are now talking about the climate. They’re angry at a president who pulled the United States out of the Paris climate accord and they’re scared about what a potentially searing future holds for their children and grandchildren. They may not have read Joe Biden’s position on clean energy and environmental justice, but they know that Donald Trump has no such plan.
Braving Guns, Germs, and Smoke
In his classic book Guns, Germs, and Steel, Jared Diamond suggested that the three variables in his title helped in large part to explain how European societies and the United States came to control much of the planet in the 20th century. As it happens, our door-to-door canvassers confront a similar triad of obstacles right here in Reno (if you replace that final “steel” with “smoke”).
Guns and other threats
Nevada is an open-carry state and gun ownership is common here. It’s not unusual to see someone walking around a supermarket with a holstered pistol on his hip. A 2015 state law ended most gun registration requirements and another allows people visiting from elsewhere to buy rifles without a permit. So gun sightings are everyday events.
Still, it can be startling, if you’re not used to it, to have a voter answer the door with a pistol all too visible, even if securely holstered. And occasionally, our canvassers have even watched those guns leave their holsters when the person at the door realizes why they’re there (which is when the campaign gets the police involved). Canvassers are trained to observe very clear protocols, including immediately leaving an area if they experience any kind of verbal or physical threat.
African American and Latinx canvassers who’ve campaigned before in Reno say that in 2020 Trump supporters seem even more emboldened than in the past to shout racist insults at them. More than once, neighbors have called the police on our folks, essentially accusing them of canvassing-while-Black-or-brown. Two days before I wrote this piece, the police pulled over one young Latino door-knocker because neighbors had called to complain that he was walking up and down the street waving a gun. (The “gun” in question was undoubtedly the electronic tablet he was carrying to record the results of conversations with voters.) The officer apologized.
Which reminds me of another apology offered recently. A woman approached an African American canvasser, demanding to know what in the world he was doing in her neighborhood. On learning his mission, she offered an apology as insulting as her original question. “We’re not used to seeing people like you around here,” she explained.
Germs
Until the pandemic, my partner and I had planned to work together with UNITE-HERE! in Reno during this election, as we did in 2018. But she’s five years older than I am, and her history of pneumonia means that catching Covid-19 could be especially devastating for her. So she’s stayed in San Francisco, helping out the union’s national phone bank effort instead.
In fact, we didn’t really expect that there would be a ground campaign this year, given the difficulties presented by the novel coronavirus. But the union was determined to eke out that small but genuine addition to the vote that a field campaign can produce. So they put in place stringent health protocols for all of us: masks and a minimum of six feet of distance between everyone at all times; no visits to bars, restaurants, or casinos, including during off hours; temperature checks for everyone entering the office; and the immediate reporting of any potential Covid-19 symptoms to our health and safety officer. Before the union rented blocks of rooms at two extended-stay hotels, our head of operations checked their mask protocols for employees and guests and examined their ventilation systems to make sure that the air conditioners vented directly outdoors and not into a common air system for the whole building.
To date, not one of our 57 canvassers has tested positive, a record we intend to maintain as we add another 17 full-timers to our team next week.
One other feature of our coronavirus protocol: We don’t talk to any voter who won’t put on a mask. I was skeptical that canvassers would be able to get voters to mask up, even with the individually wrapped surgical masks we’re offering anyone who doesn’t have one on or handy. However, it turns out that, in this bizarre election year, people are eager to talk, to vent their feelings and be heard. So many of the people we’re canvassing have suffered so much this year that they’re surprised and pleased when someone shows up at their door wondering how they’re doing.
And the answer to that question for so many potential voters is not well—with jobs lost, housing threatened, children struggling with online school, and hunger pangs an increasingly everyday part of life. So yes, a surprising number of people, either already masked or quite willing to put one on, want to talk to us about an election that they generally see as the most important of their lifetime.
Smoke
And did I mention that it’s been smoky here? It can make your eyes water, your throat burn, and the urge to cough overwhelm you. In fact, the symptoms of smoke exposure are eerily similar to the ones for Covid-19. More than one smoke-affected canvasser has spent at least five days isolated in a hotel room, waiting for negative coronavirus test results.
The White House website proudly quotes the president on his administration’s testing record: “We do tremendous testing. We have the best testing in the world.” Washoe County health officials are doing what they can, but if this is the best in the world, then the world is in worse shape than we thought.
The Power of a Personal Story
So why, given the genuine risk and obstacles they face, do UNITE-HERE!’s canvassers knock on doors six days a week to elect Joe Biden and Kamala Harris? Their answers are a perfect embodiment of the feminist dictum “the personal is political.” Every one of them has a story about why she or he is here. More than one grew up homeless and never want another child to live that way. One is a DACA recipient who knows that a reelected Donald Trump will continue his crusade to end that amnesty for undocumented people brought to the United States as children. Through their participation in union activism, many have come to understand that workers really can beat the boss when they organize—and Trump, they say, is the biggest boss of all.
Through years of political campaigning, the union’s leaders have learned that voters may think about issues, but they’re moved to vote by what they feel about them. The goal of every conversation at those doors right now is to make a brief but profound personal connection with the voter, to get each of them to feel just how important it is to vote this year. Canvassers do this by asking how a voter is doing in these difficult times and listening—genuinely listening—and responding to whatever answer they get. And they do it by being vulnerable enough to share the personal stories that lie behind their presence at the voter’s front door.
One canvasser lost his home at the age of 7, when his parents separated. He and his mother ended up staying in shelters and camping for months in a garden shed on a friend’s property. One day recently, he knocked on a door and found a Trump supporter on the other side of it. He noticed a shed near the house, pointed to it, and told the man about living in something similar as a child. That Trumpster started to cry. He began talking about how he’d had just the same experience and the way, as a teenager, he’d had to hold his family together when his heroin-addicted parents couldn’t cope. He’d never talked to any of his present-day friends about how he grew up and, in the course of that conversation, came to agree with our canvasser that Donald Trump wasn’t likely to improve life for people like them. He was, he said, changing his vote to Biden right then and there. (And that canvasser will be back to make sure he actually votes.)
Harvard University Professor Marshall Ganz pioneered the “public narrative,” the practice of organizing by storytelling. It’s found at the heart of many organizing efforts these days. The 2008 Obama campaign, for example, trained thousands of volunteers to tell their stories to potential voters. The It Gets Better Project has collected more than 50,000 personal messages from older queer people to LGBTQ youth who might be considering suicide or other kinds of self-harm—assuring them that their own lives did, indeed, get better.
Being the sort of political junkie who devours the news daily, I was skeptical about the power of this approach, though I probably shouldn’t have been. After all, how many times did I ask my mother or father to “tell me a story” when I was a kid? What are our lives but stories? Human beings are narrative animals and, however rational, however versed in the issues we may sometimes be, we still live through stories.
Data can give me information on issues I care about, but it can’t tell me what issues I should care about. In the end, I’m concerned about racial and gender justice as well as the climate emergency because of the way each of them affects people and other creatures with whom I feel connected.
A Campaign Within a Campaign
Perhaps the most inspiring aspect of UNITE-HERE!’s electoral campaign is the union’s commitment to developing every canvasser’s leadership skills. The goal is more than winning what’s undoubtedly the most important election of our lifetime. It’s also to send back to every hotel, restaurant, casino, and airport catering service leaders who can continue to organize and advocate for their working-class sisters and brothers. This means implementing an individual development plan for each canvasser.
Team leaders work with all of them to hone their stories into tools that can be used in an honest and generous way to create a genuine connection with voters. They help those canvassers think about what else they want to learn to do, while developing opportunities for them to master technical tools like computer spreadsheets and databases.
There’s a special emphasis on offering such opportunities to women and people of color who make up the vast majority of the union’s membership. Precious hours of campaign time are also devoted to workshops on how to understand and confront systemic racism and combat sexual harassment, subjects President Trump is acquainted with in the most repulsively personal way. The union believes its success depends as much on fostering a culture of respect as on the hard-nosed negotiating it’s also famous for.
After months of pandemic lockdown and almost four years of what has objectively been the worst, most corrupt, most incompetent, and possibly even most destructive presidency in the nation’s history, it’s a relief to be able to do something useful again. And sentimental as it may sound, it’s an honor to be able to do it with this particular group of brave and committed people. Sí, se puede. Yes, we can.