Lessons from 1,000 doors
This past week, I cross the 1,000th door knocked threshold. I wish I had been counting them up so that I could have taken a congratulatory selfie, but the need to get as many in before it got dark meant that I was running through the list and only later realized I had hit that milestone.
Nonetheless, here’s a picture from around when I probably hit it.
The Mystic River from Ten Hills
Why knock so many doors so early
So far in the campaign, with the exception of one canvass with members of the Tufts Democrats this Sunday and one afternoon where my wife helped, I have been the only doorknocker.
That was a deliberate choice.
The primary goal of these doorknocks has been to gather signatures to get on the ballot. I needed 150 certified signatures to qualify as a State Representative, meaning that I needed about 200 given the some signers will be illegible or not registered voters in the district.
Some candidates use volunteers to collect signatures or stand outside of transit stops or grocery stores to knock this part of the process out in a few days. But that didn’t feel right to me.
I’m a first-time candidate. Voters have probably never have heard of me, so if they’re going to help me be part of an election, I believe they deserve to meet me, if feasible.
For only 150 signatures, that’s feasible.
It meant that collecting the signatures was a lot more work than for a typical candidate, but it paid off in the chance to engage voters with more than just a usual pitch.
As for the stats:
I knocked on 1,096 doors and talked with 118 people according to the report in Votebuilder, which is database used by Democratic candidates.
This actually undercounts how many I actually spoke to, because I talked to a number of people on the street who weren’t in the canvass list I was running at that time and I haven’t yet added them in.
The top issues were housing, followed by potholes. Some esoteric issues were turning a two-way street one way and employment contract law.
Lessons learned
This was by far the most doorknocking I’ve ever done for a campaign. For Elizabeth Warren in 2012, Hillary Clinton in 2016, Max Rose in 2018, or a mayoral campaign in 2025, I did a few shifts but was never a full-time organizer. For Ranked Choice Voting in 2020, I never managed to knock doors before COVID hit.
So this was a learning experience. Here are some of the most important things I learned.
Some people want to be heard
My priority, after introducing myself and getting a signature, was finding out what the person cared about and what they thought the state should be doing better.
About half the time, the person had nothing they could think of.
About half the time, the person had many, many things they immediately wanted to say.
That is the great thing about canvassing: the variety. I never knew what response I’d get and I always felt like I went away from those conversations with a new perspective on something. And for those without any ideas, I left my email and phone number so they could follow up.
Wear comfortable shoes and lots of sunscreen
This may be obvious to veteran campaigners, but knocking on doors for two hours is a lot more walking than most people do at once.
It isn’t just that you’re knocking on the doors. But it’s going up the stairs. Ringing the bell. Standing for 30 seconds expectantly. Walking down the stairs. Walking to the next house. Repeat.
It is great exercise but it is tiring. Treating it like a workout by stretching beforehand and hydrating is extremely important.
Recharge the mental battery afterwards
Three hours of having to be always on can be draining.
By the end of a shift, I usually needed a break to reset myself. I highly recommend Alan Partridge, Steve Coogan’s decades-old fictional media personality, as a way to immediately snap you out of serious policy considerations.
My go-to after a canvassing shift
I really liked it
Perhaps the biggest surprise was how much I enjoyed the process.
Going into this campaign, I knew I’d like the policy research aspect of the job. Talking about my ideas and going to events sounded like fun. Fundraising would be a drag but necessary. But doorknocking sounded, from all I’d heard, that it would be a grind.
Perhaps when campaigning for someone else, or at the end of a presidential campaign when trying to talk to people who were sick to death about politics, it would be.
But this set of doors, for this campaign, was extraordinary.
I got an excuse to get some exercise, talk to neighbors, and practice my stump speech and answers to questions before the campaign really got going. It was a great way to begin the process and I now feel much more confident as I get ready for 18 more weeks of this.
