One day more
An ode to election day from many campaign trails
1:32am, May 9, 2017 – Victoria, BC
I couldn't sleep. I was too excited.
It had been a rough few months. My position at a small non-profit was eliminated and I was looking for work. Luckily, with an election approaching, I was approached by the BC Green Party about taking on a communications role for the provincial office.
For three months I had monitored social media, produced campaign images and promotions, supported local campaigns and represented the party on a weekly panel. While I had been involved in politics my whole life, this was the first election I had formally worked on.
Now it was election day, and I could not sleep.
In 2008, when Barack Obama was running to be President of the United States, a comedy troupe put out a video of them playing a campaign office singing One Day More from Les Misérables. It became a personal tradition to — at least once on the day before an election day — sing the entire song to myself. Lying on my bed, unable to sleep, I sang through the lyrics.
One day more,
Another day, another destiny,
This never-ending road to Calvary;
5:26am, June 2, 2022 – Guelph, Ontario
I was awake — fully awake — despite the sun not rising for another ten minutes.
My room was unfamiliar, even though I had been there for a few months. I was in Ontario, having travelled across the country to work on a local campaign. I was staying with some local supporters who had generously offered a room in their home for me to sleep in.
I had gotten to know the team while I had been working there, and I no longer felt like the outsider I had been when I arrived. People on the campaign had become close friends. A small group of us had developed our election day plan, and I felt like we were ready.
I pinned on my lucky button — a five-leaf clover I had found and pressed using our campaign button maker — and started walking to the campaign office. It was warm out — I did not need a jacket despite it being early in the morning. It was quiet, with few cars on the road that early. I hummed to myself.
I did not live until today,
How can I live when we are parted?
7:15am, October 20, 2018 – Vancouver, BC
I looked around the room. About a dozen people were gathered waiting for me to give them direction. I was dressed in my “work clothes” — a t-shirt, jeans and backwards ball cap so I wouldn’t need to deal with my hair, which had grown long over the campaign. I hadn’t had time to get it cut.
Our goal for the day was visibility — we wanted everyone to be everywhere. We knew we had support and momentum, but that meant nothing if people did not remember to vote. Our team of ten candidates would be spread out across the city, while volunteers in the office would make phone calls to remind people to get out and cast their ballot.
It was the first campaign I managed, and it had been a long, challenging road with a difficult learning curve. But on the morning of the election, I felt relieved. It was almost over, and it felt like we were doing well. Our messaging had been consistent and well-received, and the limited data we had showed our team in a strong position. Still, as a data nerd, I wished we had more information.
I gave everyone their directions for the day. People had their intersections to set up sign waves, and the candidates had directions for what photos they needed to send me to put out on our social media to encourage people to vote. As everyone left, a volunteer asked me if I would stay in Vancouver after the campaign. I told them I missed Victoria and was looking forward to returning to my cat.
Tomorrow you'll be worlds away,
And yet with you my world has started;
8:14am, June 2, 2022 – Guelph, Ontario
I had never seen a room so busy. Around a hundred volunteers were gathered about, some helping distribute walk sheets for door canvassers, some talking away on the phones, and many chatting amongst themselves. It felt electric.
I grabbed my phone to capture the moment. I started filming, and wandered around the office. I had no idea how it would turn out, but when I watched it back it had captured much of the energy.
I quickly posted it to our social media with a call to action — come down to the campaign office and help us win!
One more day all on my own,
Will we ever meet again?
One more day with him not caring,
I was born to be with you;
11:14am, May 9, 2017 – Victoria, BC
We were already at the hotel where the party’s candidates and supporters would gather after the polls closed. The campaign manager and team leads were sequestered in a private room, heads down in their laptops monitoring the key campaigns across the province. Having scheduled social media posts to go out throughout the day, I found myself with little to do beyond monitoring my notifications on my phone.
The campaign photographer was in a similar situation to me. Nothing was happening at the moment for him to photograph. He asked me if I was hungry and wanted to pop down to the restaurant for food. I said yes, both because I was hungry, and he was handsome.
We let the team know we would be downstairs for a bit if anyone needed us, and sat down at the hotel restaurant. We talked about why we had gotten involved in politics. We talked about the potential to meaningfully change the nature of the provincial legislature. We talked about family, and he told me about his wife and kids — darn, I thought to myself, he’s taken.
It was warm. The sun was shining. It felt eerily calm. People were enjoying their meals. No one knew how frantic things were in a conference room upstairs.
What a life I might have known,
And I swear I will be true
But he never saw me there;
12:14pm, November 19, 2022 – Ottawa, Ontario
I had been wandering all morning. I was restless.
The campaign had been a tight ship. Campaign leads knew what needed to happen, and phone calls were being made across the country. I had been monitoring everything all day, and things were running smoothly. I needed a break.
When I had last been in Ottawa, I visited the House of Commons, but because of the construction on Parliament Hill I had not visited the temporary location of the Senate — in the old Ottawa central train station. I sent my candidates a message.
“I’m going to tour the Senate, I’ll have my phone if you need anything.”
I joined up with a group following a tour guide. As we explored the building, I thought about the structure of parliamentary systems. I thought about how formal they had managed to make the old train station. I wondered what was down every hallway. I thought about how red the “Red Chamber” really is. For a few brief moments, I forgot about the flurry of phone calls, text messages and appeals going out to remind people to vote. I enjoyed the quiet.
I spent about an hour and a half touring the building. When I finally emerged, I checked my phone. Things were still running smoothly.
One more day before the storm,
Do I follow where she goes?
At the barricades of freedom;
Shall I join my brothers there?
2:34pm, June 24, 2023 – Langford, BC
The day had been a whirlwind. Our goal was to get at least 50% of our identified supporters out to vote, and we were well on our way. Every time a door canvasser came back to the office, we had another route for them to walk. Every time a call list wrapped up, the next one was queued and ready.
I was more exhausted than I had ever been. After years of campaigning, the long hours and stress were getting to me. I had bags under my eyes. I wanted to curl up under a table and sleep. I had not shaved that morning, and I could see patches in my stubble where hair was no longer growing in. It’s a stress response.
The number of people who had voted kept going up, and we knew a good rush of voters would go cast their ballot after work. I quietly wished we had more numbers to call.
Still, I could do the math in my head, and I had spreadsheets that told me the same information. Even if every one of our identified supporters showed up, we were still going to lose.
When our ranks begin to form
Do I stay or do I dare?
Will you take your place with me?
5:32pm, June 2, 2022 – Guelph, Ontario
For the dozenth time that day, I updated our walk sheets to remove anyone who had already voted. We received regular updates from Elections Ontario on who had cast their ballot so we could cross them off our list and stop contacting them on election day. Secret trick if you want political parties to stop calling you to remind you the election is coming: vote early.
It was clear we had the advantage. A majority of our identified supporters had already voted, and there were still line ups at the polls. Making some assumptions with the math, it seemed like we were going to win.
I picked up my headphones. I did not need to be at the final celebration venue until after polls closed. I started calling people who had not voted yet.
Take nothing for granted, I told myself.
The time is now,
The day is here;
7:31pm, November 19, 2022 – Ottawa, Ontario
For hours, we had been waiting. Voting had closed at 5pm, and the organizers of the finale had been filling time with speeches. Everyone was patient, but we wanted to know the results. I snapped a few pictures with a fancy camera my friend had lent me.
The interim leader took the stage. They told the audience they were ready to announce the results of the first ballot. I positioned myself at the side of the room where I could see the large monitor.
I had done extensive data work on the different scenarios. I had mapped out exactly what we needed on each ballot to win. I knew we had pulled as much of our vote as possible, and that the race was competitive.
The results came up on the screen. I blinked a few times. I had seen those numbers before. They were almost identical to my “Scenario 1” — the most likely outcome.
We were strong. We put up a good fight. But I knew the moment I saw the screen it was over.
I made eye contact with my candidates, seated across the room. Slowly, I shook my head. In that moment they too knew it was over.
One day more to revolution,
We will nip it in the bud,
We'll be ready for these schoolboys,
They will wet themselves with blood;
8:26pm, October 24, 2020 – Vancouver, BC
Because the election took place during the pandemic, there was no election night party. Instead, we invited the regional candidates and campaign managers to a large conference room to watch the results. The polls began trickling in. The first stations to report were mostly small, remote areas with only a few votes to count. In terms of the final outcome, they told us next to nothing.
With only a few seats reporting anything at all, we were all shocked when a Kootenay riding turned green. I refreshed my computer and looked at the results. Sure enough, a single polling station had reported, and with 28 votes, the Green candidate had narrowly taken 30% of that polling station.
For a good twenty minutes, it was the only polling station reporting for that riding. As other seats trickled in, it remained Green on the map.
The rest of the riding did not swing that way. We all knew it wouldn't. In the end, the Green candidate received 17% and won only two remote polls. But for the time it was up, the room was giddy.
Watch 'em run amuck,
Catch 'em as they fall,
Never know your luck when there's a free for all;
8:34pm, June 24, 2023 – Langford, BC
With fancy new voting systems taking care of most of the counting, we went from no results to a flood in a matter of minutes. The party brass had locked themselves in a back room, and I was left to wander around the campaign office.
The numbers aligned exactly with what I expected. We were not going to win. Not even close.
A volunteer came up to me and asked, “how does it look?”
“It’s over,” I mumbled.
I walked outside and lit a cigarette. It did not make me feel better.
Here a little dip,
There a little touch,
Most of them are goners, so they won't miss much;
9:01pm, October 20, 2018 – Vancouver, BC
I could not believe my eyes. We were in a side room, a private space where the candidates could escape from the buzz of supporters and reporters outside. The first few ballot stations had reported.
All ten of our candidates were winning.
Not by small margins either, they were ahead by huge blocks of votes. With 27 elected positions available, we had ten of them. The previous governing party had collapsed, and it seemed many of their voters had swung our way.
I had become good friends with one of the candidates. She had not believed she was going to win. I walked over, gave her a hug, and told her congratulations.
She just kind of looked at me. She was still processing. She was an elected official now.
One day to a new beginning,
Raise the flag of freedom high,
Every man will be a king;
9:28pm, October 24, 2020 – Vancouver, BC
We were ecstatic, even though we had not won any seats. No one had expected us to.
We had set our own goals for the campaign, and we had exceeded them. We had grown in a region we were previously weak in, we had run a fantastic slate of strong candidates, and we had some amazing growth that we could build on for the future.
People celebrated every small win. One candidate screamed with joy when they broke 20%. Applause broke out every time one of our regional team showed up on the election night coverage.
On a livestream, we could see the main celebration taking place in Victoria. The energy was not the same. Sure, they had won seats, but they had wanted more.
A reporter told me they had spoken with their colleagues at other venues, and the consensus was we were having the most fun of all of them.
There's a new world for the winning,
There's a new world to be won,
Do you hear the people sing?
10:03pm, May 9, 2017 – Victoria, BC
For the first time since the polling stations started counting votes, I went down to the ballroom where the campaign celebration was taking place. I had been sequestered in the backroom watching the results, but for the ridings that mattered to us most of the polls had already reported. People were stunned and thrilled simultaneously.
It wasn't just that we had won three seats. It appeared British Columbia was going to a minority parliament, which meant our elected officials would decide the next government.
People were cheering, running around the room and sharing results with their friends. I somehow ended up standing next to the previous leader of the party. I tapped her shoulder.
“This is all because of the foundation you helped build.”
She smiled, and replied “I know.”
My place is here,
I fight with you;
10:21pm, October 20, 2018 – Vancouver, BC
A candidate’s partner was yelling at me. “Start the speeches,” he said, waving his hands at me.
I shook my head. There were still a few polls to report, and one of our candidates was on the margins. He had zig-zagged between being in the top ten and dropping off. I wanted to know if he had won or not.
But I knew the final few polling stations were not from areas we were strong in. I sighed, and walked over to the candidate. I gave him a hug. I choked up a bit as I spoke.
“My only regret is that I didn’t get you over the finish line.”
He smiled, and said he was relieved. He was going to take a vacation, which he would have not been able to if he had won.
I steeled myself and walked out of the back room to the floor of the party. People had started to leave, and I quietly chastised myself for not listening and starting the speeches earlier.
As I walked up to the mic, the room fell completely silent. After a deep breath, I introduced the crowd to their new municipal team — the largest Green caucus ever elected in Canada.
We will join these people's heroes,
We will follow where they go;
11:12pm, June 2, 2022 – Guelph, Ontario
The speeches were over, and people were starting to filter back to their homes. As I looked around, I realized I would probably not see many of them again.
I had already booked hotels for a short vacation following the campaign. After a few days cleaning up I would be gone. Even though we had won, it was a bittersweet night. These people had been my team, my campaign family, and close friends for months.
I was sad that it was over. I had learned more from them and that one campaign than several other combined.
One of the people I had grown closest to offered me a ride back to my homestay. We talked about what we would do next. I confessed I had no idea. I hadn't had time to think about it.
We will learn their little secrets,
We will know the things they know;
11:59pm, May 9, 2017 – Victoria, BC
I finally got home. I could barely stand. My cat meowed at me.
I flopped into bed. I could sleep in the next morning — my contract had ended on election day and I would begin looking for a new job soon. That night, I finally slept.
As I fell asleep, I thought of how much we had changed in a single election. A minority government, different voices at the table, and unprecedented influence over the next parliament. My role had been small, but I had been part of it.
I had no idea what the next decade would be like — how many campaigns I would work on or how many sleepless nights were ahead. I had no idea how many more victories or losses were in store. That night, I only knew that I felt proud of all we had done.
Tomorrow we'll be far away,
Tomorrow is the judgment day,
Tomorrow we'll discover what our God in Heaven has in store;
To everyone who worked on this federal election campaign, congratulations. Whether you’re celebrating, commiserating, or just getting some much needed sleep, democracy is better because you were a part of it.
Thank you.
One more dawn,
One more day,
One day more.
