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Reprinted
with permission from WireTap, www.wiretapmag.org
Megan
Tady
April 26, 2004
As legend has it, five people sat at the Rogue Brewery in Portland,
Oregon on an evening in 2001, trying to devise a plan to save their
state. Drinks were had and ideas were proposed. They could start meeting
every Wednesday night to watch the "West Wing...." nah, that would too
passive. They could take over the Democratic Party... hmm, no, taking
over a party is too risky. They could get a bus and start trekking across
the state supporting progressive candidates... but buying a bus is too…
too… wait a minute. They could get a bus.
The Oregon Bus Project is the free-wheeling, grassroots-shaking, democracy-flouting,
politically-charged answer to what a small group of progressive activists
saw as a crisis in their state. Among other problems, the state legislature
had been dominated by right-wing conservatives for nearly a decade,
rural and urban Oregon could not identify with each other, and important
issues were batted back in forth among legislators -- a tennis-match
of will that saw no winners. The group identified a need to bridge this
urban/rural divide, engage young people in the political process, and
create a grassroots progressive movement to take their state back.
To do this, they would buy a bus.
"Oregon's a big state," explains Caitlin Baggott, longtime Bus Project
volunteer and founder and editor of the project's magazine, The Zephyr.
"Especially for people in Portland, we just don't know what people are
thinking outside the valley. So the conversation turned to, 'Wouldn't
it be cool if we could just take a busload of us over there to talk
to them to figure out what's happening?' And then someone said, 'Maybe
we could. Maybe we could get a bus.'"
If You Dream It, It Will Happen
Although Jefferson Smith, the initiator of the bus project, had originally
approached other friends and even the governor to take the lead, he
finally realized that he and a group of young activists would have to
start the project. The plan was to get young people on the bus once
it was purchased, drive them to campaigns across Oregon, and canvass
for progressive candidates who needed help.
The group "begged and borrowed" money, spreading the news about the
Oregon Bus Project by word of mouth and asking friends to donate as
little as $5. Around 20 people involved with the project began meeting
at the "Smith Compound," where they broke into groups and hashed out
ideas for the project.
Finally
in 2002, after much planning and fundraising, they had a kickoff ceremony,
where Governor John Kitzhaber of Oregon tried twice to break a champagne
bottle against the newly acquired 1978 charter bus. The second time,
he dented the metal, the bottle bouncing off the bus like a kickball
on pavement. He eventually grasped the bottle and shattered the glass
on a lug nut -- a tense but triumphant launch of the Oregon Bus Project.
Nice Idea, Kids
After their champagne bottle kick-off, the Oregon Bus Project quickly
got rolling on their mission to support progressive candidates -- much
to the surprise of politicians.
"A well-known politician said to us, 'That's a nice idea kids. I'd love
it if you could bring out 10 volunteers to work on my campaign. That
would be huge,'" Baggott relates. "On our very first trip, we brought
out 150 volunteers. It's not that people didn't support us. They were
genuinely excited about the idea of us brining out 10 volunteers to
help. So when we were able to bring out 10 times that many, I think
it really startled people."
People quit their jobs to work on the Bus Project. In the beginning,
they volunteered 60 to 80 hours a week, stealing time from sleep in
the middle of the night. According to Baggot, "There were 20 or 30 of
us committed at that level. It became a driving passion for us. It quickly
took over our lives."
By the end of 2002, the Oregon Bus Project had engaged 4,000 people
as volunteers and supporters, knocked on 70,000 doors, and helped get
seven progressive candidates elected. Nice idea, kids.
But the project was seen as just that -- a project to complete -- and
at the end of 2002, everyone expected to go back to work. Only, they
couldn't let go of what they'd spent months building, couldn't see themselves
returning to work, in some cases, for Red Bull or for corporate lawyers
representing tobacco companies. They began to redefine their purpose,
deciding that they wanted to do more than focus on candidates. They
wanted to enrich people's understanding of the political process. The
organization's motto, "Educate. Engage. Elect," began to take on new
meaning.
"We were advised over and over and over again not to get too complicated,"
says Baggott. "Everybody said, 'Just do the bus project.' But we really
resisted that message. We resisted the tried and true business model
of, 'Do one thing, and do it well.' We want to do everything and do
it well."
To
the Oregon Bus Project, doing everything means: creating a quarterly
online magazine of political commentary and analysis called The Zephyr;
holding an "Engage Oregon" conference; starting Third Thursdays, a forum
that combines cocktails and conversation about pressing issues; and
throwing one crazy kick-off event called RISE, to be held May 22, complete
with two bands, a deejay, a fashion show, and a political poster contest
in the "revolutionary fashion."
Who said politics couldn't be, well, anything the Oregon Bus Project
wants it to be?
This Ain't Your Momma's Volunteer Society
Today, the Oregon Bus Project simply wants to reorganize government,
enhance civic engagement, create a re-birth of the Progressive Era,
and make the whole damn world a better place. Is that so much to ask?
For those still floundering, the project has already laid the groundwork,
organizing around what they call the "Six E's": education, environment,
equal rights, economic fairness, election reform, and health care. The
project organizes events and designs media programs to raise awareness
on political issues, teaches leadership skills to volunteers, links
organizations and leaders who support progressive ideals, and has a
savvy website that allows visitors to plug into their Engage Oregon
network.
All the rest of us have to do is get on the bus.
The bus seats 47 people. It's a party on wheels, a moving classroom,
a campaign strategy of steel. On the side of the bus is a quote from
Teddy Roosevelt: "A great democracy needs to be progressive or it will
soon cease to be either great or a democracy." People honk and wave
when they see it drive by.
"It's ridiculously fun," Baggott laughs. "It isn't a time to fall asleep
with your head against the window. We all remember those field trips."
They have a bullhorn. They tell jokes. There is witty political banter.
They do not sing Kumbaya.
"We have elected officials on the bus to interact with," says Smith.
"As a result, we keep a promise to young people that even though they
can't afford a $1,000-a-plate dinner, they can have a chance to talk
with elected officials about what's important to them."
Nice plug, but how do they actually get a busload of young people, drive
them to a campaign event, and have them knocking on doors for free?
Simple: They don't let people forget about them.
"It is a huge amount of work," explains Baggott. "The week before a
bus trip, volunteers are calling people multiple times. We have volunteers
say, 'Isn't this harassment? Is it okay to call people this much?' The
over-all feeling is that the situation is so dire, that it is just fine
to call people this much. And receiving a phone call is the least someone
can do."
If Voting is Cool, Call Me Miles Davis
When Urban Outfitters introduced a T-shirt that read, "Voting is for
old people," the Oregon Bus Project was among the groups to protest.
Not only have they been disproving this manufactured youth apathy on
a daily basis, they've created their own screen printed message on a
T-shirt: "Vote F*ckers."
"It's true that our T-shirt is absurd and inappropriate, but there's
nothing more absurd than not being engaged in the political process,"
points out Smith. The T-shirt speaks, in the most blatant of ways, of
the importance of youth engaging in the political process.
"There's been a depolitization of our society," he says. "That's a problem
because the people with all the power and control are making decisions
on their own behalf because the rest of us aren't paying attention."
The Oregon Bus Project decided that they needed to wake people up to
the politics happening around them. "Where is the next generation of
leaders going to come from?" asks Smith. "Well, they're alive right
now, and if we give them the tools, relationships and set of values
to lead, they will be able to when the time comes. It's important for
young people because they're going to be alive when it really matters.
Everyone is saying, 'Get Bush out of office.' But the world is not going
to be won or lost, fixed or broken, at the end of the 2004 election.
It's going to take 20 years to do this work. So who better than the
20-somethings and the 30-somethings to lead the way when they have already
been talking about this for a very long time?"
The organization uses a unique strategy, called "reverse coattails,"
to mobilize their communities. In other words, they're keeping it local.
"If you go door-to-door for John Kerry, most people you will talk to
will have already formed an opinion about that person before you get
to their door," explains Smith. "If you go to the door to talk about
a state legislator, what you say to that person might be their only
encounter with an opinion of that person. Political participation at
the local level is very important. If you can get people voting in local
elections, it's very likely that they'll vote up the ticket."
While
young people may not be able to fork over a large campaign contribution,
the Oregon Bus Project shows that what they can donate is time. "We're
not trying to build a war chest, we're trying to build an army," says
Smith.
But building an army is no small task, especially when you're recruiting
only volunteers.
"I'd say the most difficult struggle is, how do you organize and collect
the resources to help do the work?" says Smith. "Whenever you're organizing
young people, the same tools that you use to organize other organizations
don't apply. Your membership base is people who have just graduated
and people who are starting new jobs and starting new families. They
are a very poor, imperfect donor base. And when you're working on a
volunteer basis, each of us is spread out very thin."
If the Oregon Bus Project gets the financial support they need, Smith
sees the organization enduring. Currently, Smith is working to create
a bus project in Washington State.
"If this ends tomorrow, I will feel good about what we've done," says
Smith. "But we'd like to get to the point where we're a sustainable
organization. I hope our ideas get copied. I hope this becomes a legend,
and that we will continue to motivate youth to have an impact on their
communities and the world."
But Baggott has different plans for the organization.
"We should become a nationally syndicated grassroots project that everyone
turns to for their social life. We want to be just like the Elks Club,
only no funny hats, and we don't want to be 60."
For more information on the Oregon Bus Project, check out www.busproject.org.
Megan Tady is a 24-year-old freelance writer who lives in Western Massachusetts.
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