It's about four years ago now that I first got turned back on to politics. I mean, I hadn't ever stopped following politics, or volunteering on campaigns, or reading political theory. But it's four years ago now that I finally set eyes on an individual who I thought had that spark. That drive. That vision to make politics meaningful again.
I had just moved from Vancouver after four and a half years there. I had just turned 30. I had just come back from a four day stop over in Nairobi and a safari around Tanzania, then a road trip round the south island of New Zealand with a friend I'd made in the country before.
And now I was firmly stationed in the nation's capital, ensconced in a grey cubicle, settled into government, ready to do some good.
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My mom called from Vancouver. In recent years she's become a bit of a CNN junkie. She called to ask if I'd seen the Democratic National Convention the night before. I hadn't.
"They had a black guy, Cher. A black guy gave the speech! You should have heard him - he was incredible. Just incredible!"
I was skeptical. My politics and my mom's politics don't always mesh. And so, with few expectations, I found a video clip of the DNC keynote address online.
And as I watched it, I cried.
My boss found me there. In my suit, in my cubicle, hunched close to the monitor, with my headphones on. Crying as Barack Obama spoke.
"I think...maybe...you shouldn't be in this job," she started. "I think, maybe, you should be doing something...more."
And watching him speak, I wanted to do something more.
What got me about his speech that night was that he spoke my language - me, a drifter who's lived in seven cities now since 1991. Me, who's black, but grew up in a largely white and Asian city, with little black community. Me, who'd attended a decidedly exclusive, WASPY, upper class, all-girls' school. Me, who's a bookworm and a club kid, both at the same time. Me, who's drawn to Jews and gays, both communities, in equal parts.
Somehow, this Obama guy, he spoke to all of that.
In the advocacy world, we place a premium on coalition-building. On stakeholder outreach and the development of support from non-traditional groups. After all, how much more impactful is it to have a broad coalition of voices making your ask, than to have your CEO pleading his case alone?
But because we lobbyists know this intuitively, it's easy to dismiss coalition-building as a mere tactic, and not as a fundamental root of a client's entire campaign. Maybe they can't afford to pay us to do stakeholder outreach. Maybe we know someone who knows someone who can help change a law, introduce new regulations, allocate funds in the next budget. And so we don't need a coalition to secure the client's ask.
But then, that's the difference between a Pied Piper and a Miles Davis, no?
Sure, there's a huge crowd behind the Piper, but Miles now, Miles is transforming the game.
Last night Hillary recounted to South Carolinians that the difference between a politician and a statesman is that the politician looks to the next election, but the statesman looks to the next generation.
Ironically, I think she just summed up the difference between herself and Barack.
Hillary Clinton is like that lobbyist-for-hire, constructing the most strategic, expedient, accessible (but credible) coalition of supporters available, because they are one arrow in the range of arsenal needed to win the immediate political goal.
But Barack Obama campaigns like a true-believer. Cultivating a coalition from the grassroots is his political goal.
Which is why he'll stand at Martin Luther King's old pulpit in Atlanta and call on the black community to be more supportive of gays and lesbians and not tolerate those who use anti-Semitism as a means to divide.
It's why he calls for an expansion in the number of soldiers and Marines, but also of Foreign Service officers, and suggests that language training is as important as weapons training if diplomacy is to precede military action in Iran.
It's why he places equal emphasis on the contributions of Asian-Americans and Native Americans, and doesn't just fall back on the usual rhetoric of blacks vs. whites.
Because he's trying to lead an America in which there's a setting for everyone at the table.
Hillary's just trying to lead. You get the feeling she'll worry about the guest list once she's confirmed that the table's hers.
And so, in our own everyday lives, what can we do to keep in touch with the original sparks that moved us to pursue our current goals? How can we avoid getting lost in the tactical manoeuvres required to bring us to those goals?
How can we make sure that the vision of the destination to which we aspire doesn't start to eclipse our view of where (or on whom) we're treading as we head towards our goals?
And if we get to the end line, and we find that there's nobody with us there, how can we develop the courage to go back and start all over again, to ensure that this time, we don't miss the point?
