Learning is almost always an uncomfortable and challenging process, and no teacher is quite as brutal as trial and error. This past Monday, our Mock Campaign project climaxed in a double event, a Mock Endorsement Panel and Mock Fundraiser, that we had to prepare for in a matter of hours. We all stepped into the office that morning tense and nervous, adrenaline pumping, vaguely sensing doom. But I could not have imagined what a rollercoaster this day would turn out to be: a mix of stomach-dropping oh-no’s, sighs of relief, a little bit of regret, and a lot of humility. In other words, growing pains.
The toughest part of the Endorsement Panel for me was helplessly watching the panelists ask questions that I myself couldn’t have answered if I were in the candidate’s seat. For our Mock Campaign project, we were instructed to create a 2-issue platform, and we chose Environment and Housing. However, any real assemblymember candidate would establish clear stances on far more than just two issues, and to reflect that reality, the endorsement panelists grilled our candidate on a variety of topics, from abortion clinics to police abolishment to LGBTQ+ representation, that we were utterly unprepared for. As we had filled out the endorsement questionnaire that morning, the policy team began to get an idea of just how many issues were on the table, but it felt hopeless trying to learn and understand them all within a few hours, especially since we had spent the majority of our project time focused on developing a handful of very specific environmental and housing policies. As our candidates were under fire for issues they knew too little about, my heart as a Policy Director broke a little for them; I felt that I had failed to adequately research the topics that the panelists cared about most, which would’ve been far more useful than perfecting any of the environmental policies we had spent so long constructing. Nevertheless, our duo candidate complemented each other well and did the best they could: one stuck fast to what she knew best, public transportation, and artfully redirected questions back to that one central message over and over, while the other member did her best to showcase intersectionality between the AAPI community and the communities that our panelists advocated for (womxn, LGBTQ+ folks, laborers, etc). At the end of the day, we won the endorsement by a 3-to-1 majority, and our cohort cheered with relief and gratitude for the bravery and strength of our candidates as well as the firm but kind feedback we received from the panelists. Though I felt that I could’ve done better for my candidates as a Policy Director, this experience motivated me to expand our policy platform to advocate for a wider range of people and communities, and I hope that our finalized Issue Memo reflects what we learned from the Endorsement Panel.
While the Endorsement Panel felt like a tough but collective win, the fundraiser was a deceptively smooth loss. Unlike the Endorsement Panel, our whole cohort did a fantastic job preparing for the event. Our host committee kept track of budget, planned out the theme, and delegated day-of tasks, and as I looked around before our guests arrived, I was blown away. On tables by the entrance we had adorable succulents in little pots, bought from a small business owner, next to boxes of delicious Cafe Dulce sandwiches. Umbrellas were dragged over to shade the tables, and a projector displayed animated graphics of our candidates. I felt pretty confident we were geared toward success.
And then our guests arrived. I later discussed the mock fundraiser with Executive Director Nancy Yap, and she put it succinctly, “You understood the assignment, but you got distracted, and you forgot what you were there to do.”
In essence, we turned a Mock Fundraiser into a Real Networking event. Instead of approaching the wealthiest donors, our CAUSE board members, and asking for donations, we swarmed the younger, more approachable endorsement panelists and enjoyed getting to know them over sandwiches and succulents. Not only did we as a cohort not work up the courage to ask for money from anybody, especially the people with the means to make large donations, we didn’t even have a system for tracking how much fake money we’d raised.
“The fact that you don’t even know how well you did fundraising-wise goes to show that you didn’t do the assignment,” Nancy told me in a gentle but matter-of-fact way. A week later, we confirmed that we raised under half of our fundraising goal.
When I reflected upon the experience, I confided to her near tears, “Honestly, I feel very defeated. We failed.”
Nancy smiled, “No, you did a good job with what you had. But even though the exercise was fake, asking for money is a real life skill. In AAPI cultures, we not only don’t talk about money, but we associate asking for help, especially financial help, with a deep sense of shame. That is actually a real problem that stunts our community’s political and influential growth, and it is okay that your cohort was unable to get past it. It’s hard to undo something that’s been culturally ingrained in you.”
Nancy went on to tell me a story about how she once had a friend who was at a low point in his career because his colleague had friends who told their boss how great the colleague was, and so the colleague was getting promoted while Nancy’s friend was not. And Nancy heard the story and said, “Dude, why didn’t you tell me? I’ll write an email right now!” So, she wrote an email supporting her friend to his boss, boss’ boss, and boss’ boss’ boss, because they were all within her network, and before long, her friend was promoted. Overcome with joy, he thanked Nancy profusely for all she did, but Nancy explained to me, “I didn’t do anything. It took me 5 seconds to write the email. What happened is he worked up the courage to ask for help.” As I reflected on her story, I realized that for wealthy donors, that $4900 maximum donation is equivalent to the 5 seconds it took Nancy to write the email: it is relatively inconsequential. What’s more, if people are showing up to a fundraiser, they expect to be asked for money! They want to give money, but what matters is our ability to ask for it, our ability to get them to trust us enough to get even that little bit of support. I was disappointed that I was too intimidated to even ask for fake money, but Nancy asked me to be kinder to myself, and take the lesson in stride: Never assume that your request is too big until it gets denied. Give others the chance to say “yes” or “no” to you.
Overall, both events pushed me far outside my comfort zone, and it felt stressful, disorienting, and overwhelming. But though in some ways we drowned in the deep end, we came out the other end having experienced first hand some of the biggest challenges politicians face: proving to the right people that they care about the right issues, tactfully but repeatedly asking for money, making a good impression within an extremely limited amount of time, etc. Even if I never run for office, the courage to ask for what I need or want and the discipline to “remember the assignment” are things that I know will be useful to me regardless of what field I go into. It will just take some growing pains to get there.
