For the last six weeks, I’ve been going to the mat for Michael Skelly, a wind energy entrepreneur / immigrant / Peace Corps vet / Harvard MBA who has been running for congress in Houston. It has been without a doubt one of the longest and most exhausting six weeks of my life. From the moment I was picked up at the hurricane-battered greyhound station, I’ve devoted basically every waking second to this campaign.
I have worked 90 hours a week away from loved ones and all sources of recreation and rejuvenation. I’ve planned fundraisers and mucked through excel. I’ve knocked on hundreds of doors, written thousands of emails and called bajillions of people. I’ve eaten handfuls of trail mix for lunch and day-old pizza on the bus for dinner. I’ve dealt with students and ambassadors, Jews and Muslims, energy executives and hippies, a governor and a homeless guy. I’ve been hung up on, called a douchebag, told to fuck off and had doors slammed in my face. Yesterday my colleague had a gun pulled on him. By a minister.
I literally gave it my all, in concert with a dozen other 20-somethings who went all out for a guy who was clearly the more competent, intelligent, thoughtful choice.
And we lost. Big.
All I know is that much of the country is tearfully celebrating a historic night that can be summed up in the phrase “Yes we can”, while all I can think of is “No we didn’t.” I’m elated that Obama (and Hagan, and Udall, and the other Udall, and lots of others) won tonight. Watching Obama’s speech tonight really moved me, but I feel sorta like the kid in high school who didn’t get invited to the cool kids’ party.
When you work and sweat and stumble and falter and struggle for a victory that everyone says is unattainable, you simply get more motivated. Until you actually lose, and then you’re crushed.
Yesterday I was fought as hard as I could for a guy I believed in. Tonight I cried onstage as he conceded. Tomorrow I’m unemployed.
I talked to someone tonight who suggested I was being selfish by languishing in my wasted effort rather than celebrating the collective joy that rang up from jubilant Obama supporters across the country. It’s a fair point. Tomorrow I plan on reading every “historic moment” type of story I can find to help me focus on the positive aspects of this historic election. I’m also going to sleep.
Meanwhile I sit here in my Skelly t-shirt that I’ve been wearing for the last five days and try to take comfort in the Southern Comfort and the thought that maybe Culberson won’t rip up any more train tracks for highway lanes any time soon.
During a visit to South Africa in 1966, Bobby Kennedy said:
“Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, those ripples build a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.”
I’d like to think that my efforts were part of some larger convergence of ripples meant to create change, but sadly I feel very divorced from all the other people who toiled in other races for candidates I also believe in, ie Obama.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll think of this whole endeavor as an interesting experience. But right now I just feel drunk, hollow and spent. Can’t say the road provided on this one.
4 responses so far ↓
Ryan // November 5, 2008 at 6:35 pm
At least it could have been worse… imagine how horrible you would have felt if McCain won instead of Obama!
Culberson though, really? 5 terms? Come on Texas! If they hate change *that* much, they must really be pissed about Obama being elected.
Gene // November 6, 2008 at 3:03 am
It Isn’t Selfishness -
When you win there is elation. When you lose something you really wanted there is emptiness. A cold, dark hollowness. Not in the pit of your stomach. It’s bigger than that. It consumes your entire being. It isn’t selfishness, and it can’t be dismissed casually as the “agony of defeat”. Those are shallow responses to less significant losses.
This is more profound.
Its grief. You grieve the loss of something you were passionate about. Something you committed yourself to fully. All those weeks of dedication, long hours and sacrifice failed to produce the outcome you wanted. Your expectations are thwarted: you’re frustrated. It hurts.
People have similar experiences writing competitive business proposals. The big boss says this one is a Must Win Proposal. A team of some of the best minds in the company comes together for two months and put in long hours. 80-hour weeks followed by all-nighters as the deadline gets closer. You live on Doritos, Dominoes pizza and 2-liter bottles of Coke. You catch sleep on the conference room table or on the floor next to the boss’s desk. People not working the proposal start to avoid you because you haven’t been home in a day or two to shower and change clothes. Your disheveled appearance is a badge of honor – a declaration of your commitment to victory.
And then you lose to your competitor.
It is important to experience the grief fully, so you can emerge from it completely. So cry. Do some self-pity. Get mad. But most importantly work through your grief so you can get past it. Don’t suppress it, experience it. So that when you step beyond it you can leave it fully behind you.
Then you will be able to see what you have accomplished and where you can improve. Start a list.
- You introduced thousands of people to a political newcomer.
- You inspired 42% of the people who voted to choose someone they hadn’t even heard of a few months ago.
- You learned how to raise a bunch of money.
- You learned how a very successful entrepreneur functions in a high pressure environment.
- You learned how you respond to that level of pressure
- You learned how to be more competent under pressure
Hopefully, you will learn from this experience that it is not about the outcome – no matter how much you wanted to win. It’s all about what you brought to the campaign: Your integrity, your talents, your energy, your intelligence, your commitment.
The bad news is you can never, ever, ever guarantee the outcome.
All you can do is give it your best shot and move on. Kennedy spoke to each time a man stands up for an ideal, because it is repetitive. You’ll take more stands, more risks. Some will succeed, others will hurt, but you’ll continue to learn and grow. And that’s what its all about.
This was a valuable, if painful, experience. Cherish it. Find an Obama victory party. And make some new ripples!
Joan // November 6, 2008 at 9:38 pm
Seth,
I don’t know who Gene is, but I say hang on to every word he said. It is about loss and grief and you do need to go thru the process. Please don’t be so hard on yourself. I think you should post Gene’s list on your mirror to remind you of what you did…and by all means, add to it. It will help you see the value you created and its great resume material.
robcottingham // November 12, 2008 at 7:07 am
I know it can be tough to find the solace in fighting the good fight. But you helped give an awful lot of people a way to say they want something different and something better than the divisive, contemptuous politics of the GOP. And that’s tremendously valuable work.
For whatever it’s worth from north of the 49th parallel, major props to you.