It's election eve in Wisconsin, and every minute is heartbreaking. (1/7)

You phone bank and talk to dozens of older folks who never missed an election. For the first time, they're blocked from the ballot because no one got to them in time to talk absentee voting. The only option left to vote in Wisconsin is leaving the house to vote in person. (2/7)

You text voters, find out the ballot they requested weeks ago still hasn't arrived. Their options?
1. Hope it comes tomorrow
2. Hope Brett Kavanaugh *of all people* gives us more time
3. Risk going vs CDC recs, leave the house & vote in person
4. SOL. They can sue later (3/7)

You reach supporters who are sick with COVID-19, are caring for friends and loved ones sick with COVID-19, are helping at hospitals or sewing masks. Most won't vote for the first time in a while. (4/7)

You stay up talking to loved ones also working on the election, whose teams/ communities/ voters are dying from the virus, suffering in isolation, experiencing extreme insecurity & hardship. You watch as organizers of color are forced into hard choices by politicians & operatives

Maybe it wouldn't matter if our lives weren't on the ballot. If more school nurses, teachers, textbooks and social workers weren't on the ballot.

Maybe it wouldn't matter if voting didn't matter so damn much to folks who grew up knowing how hard won that right was. But it does.

Anyway, this is just a snapshot of how it feels on election eve in Wisconsin. I'm too busy to write this but did anyway

Awe and appreciation for prophetic organizers out here
defending the rights of our elders, the poor and communities of color with necessary anger + love. 7/7