Election Day: November, 2008...a writer's reflection

April 15, 12:19 PMLA Latino Issues ExaminerLuis Antonio Pichardo

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Tuesday, November 4, 2008-7:34AM: The muffled “Xxplosive” ringtone plays signifying that a text message was sent. The sun is shining into my apartment through partially opened blinds and a dark, cloudy sky. It’s cold. And I’m alone in bed.

My clock radio is playing “El Manicero” at a low volume. I can’t tell which banda was playing it, but Don Cheto interrupts it and starts talking about something that I halfway listen to as I roll over in bed, struggling to open my eyes.

I reach for my cell phone and stop it in mid-ring: “…now they tell me that my s***’s the bomb, explosive…”

The text message reads, “Mijo have you voted yet? Make sure you vote yes on prop 8 and prop 4. Think about your cousins and little sister”

“No, not yet,” I lazily reply. “I can’t anyway. I didn’t register in time to vote in LA. I’ve been too busy working. Besides, I don’t know where to go.”

A few minutes later, “Go to your nearest poll and tell them. They have to let you vote. It’s your right. Exercise it.”

Tired, I type, “Really? Well, I’ll try and go before work. I work at 10 and get off at 5. I have school right after.”

“Okay. Have a good day mijo ?.”

I send one last text message asking my mom if she has the money to help me pay my rent this month. She replies, “I’ll try and get you the money tomorrow.”

I worked late last night, and unfortunately, work isn’t paying the bills. I just learned that my credit isn’t good enough for approval on another student loan, and I’m starting to question why I decided to go to grad school anyway.

I had a fulltime job before. I was considered a “young professional.” But of course, none of that matters at this moment. I still need to pay my rent or risk losing my security deposit and taking another negative hit on my credit report.

Nobody in my family seems to care, either. All they know is that if you work hard, you’ll get more hours. And if you can’t make it happen there, then it’s time to look for another job. If only it was that easy.

9:56AM: I finish clocking in at Best Buy. The morning Chalk Talk is underway. The store’s manager-on-duty asks how many people already voted. A few people did. Darryl mentions he drove around the corner of his block instead of walking because it was “freezing.” He proudly wears his “I Voted” sticker on his nametag. Shira does too.

Ijae, the manager-on-duty, tells us that the store had a good day yesterday. We made our budget as a store by 113%. People are buying big-ticket items again. An $8,000 sale happened for the first time in our store since late August.

She reminds us as we open the doors to be sure that we greet all the people and to thank them for coming and shopping at our store. After all, we are going to benefit from the profit sharing because of them.

The majority of the people walking in have “I Voted” stickers stuck to their jackets and sweaters. I help a customer search for an infrared remote sensor in the Home Theater department. He doesn’t care about the election. All he knows is that he doesn’t have the money to pay for a $100 remote and a $99 remote sensor.

“My clients probably won’t appreciate spending that kind of money for a simple home theater system. But thanks anyway, though. And have fun listening to people drag on about the election.”

I thank him and wish him a good day. His contractor’s logo gets smaller as he goes up the escalator back to the entrance.

As the day goes on, people talk on and off about the election. CNN is playing on the big screen TVs in Home Theater and Magnolia. Up at Customer Service, another store associate searches for another news station. Every now and then a supervisor comes up and asks me to try and get some more Black Tie Protection plans for them.

“We need to boost our profit margin,” they say. “We need to generate some revenue.” The expressions on their faces look worried. I don’t think we’re going to hit our revenue goal today. But I try, and they’re confident in my ability to sell our extended warranty. I hustle a few while in the camera department.

12:43PM: I’ve been helping the same lady now for almost an hour. She doesn’t know whether to go with the $400 laptop that has only 2gb of RAM, or if she should spend the extra $100 for the additional 1gb of RAM. She’s trying to save some money seeing as how this laptop is really going to be for her elderly mother who has never owned a computer in her life.

I know better than to ask her if she wants the extra $130 Black Tie Protection Plan.

2:55PM comes around. I realize I only have one minute to clock out for lunch or else I’ll get in trouble. The State of California fines any company a large amount of money if an employee doesn’t take a lunch by their fifth hour of work. The supervisors hate it.

I clock out and walk up to the third level of the parking lot and make a phone call. One of my former students sent me a text message asking me to call him earlier.

I speak with Rick. He’s a teen dad. His daughter, Cece, just turned one and is really sick. His girlfriend, the baby’s mom, still hasn’t found a job yet, and Rick just finished his term as an AmeriCorps member. He’s broke right now and can’t afford to take Cece to the clinic again.

He asks me if he can use me as a reference on his job applications. I tell him of course he can, and I reminded him to stay in touch with the office where I used to work. They can help him find a job too.

Rick asks me why I left San Diego and moved to LA again. He knows that it was for school, but he doesn’t quite understand why I’m working at Best Buy and not for some other work-readiness program like I did back home. I tell him that its complicated, and I tell him not to worry about anything. I reassure him that the job market isn’t that bad and that he will find another job soon.

I lie to him. I always hate lying to my students. They’re like my kids. But I know how hard it is to find a job. I, myself, have spent four months sending out résumés with no luck. It isn’t a good time to be broke and responsible.

4:45PM: Work sucks for the rest of my shift. I sell a computer. I sell a laptop. I sell a few more cameras and protection plans. But customers are getting annoying talking about the election coverage. I contemplate to myself how much better this would be if I were paid commission. I might be able to pay my rent this way.

6:09 pm: I’m at school, and the assignment is to go out and observe the happenings at CalArts. David Ulin, our instructor of the journalism class asks us to spend the next hour or so walking the campus interviewing people about the election and their reaction to it. I walk around taking pictures of propaganda with my cell phone.

Posters encouraging people to vote litter the campus walls. Every corridor has something to say to the passers-by. I find a fellow first-year grad student from my same program. We start talking about the posters. The conversation isn’t that interesting.

“Did you see all of the posters in the hallways?”

“Yeah.”

“They’re kind of redundant, aren’t they? None of them seem to be saying anything original.”

“Tell me about it. All of these undergrads are not really thinking about the main issues that need to be addressed.”

She starts sharing her fears about the possibility of not seeing a universal health care program. “Really, there’s no guarantee that there will be a universal health care plan. I think that’s what scares me the most about this election. I mean, how are we gonna afford being here. It’s already quite a sacrifice. And my husband isn’t exactly the best person to be around right now. He just started working his new night job.”

Her husband is a recovering addict who didn’t qualify for help from any insurance company when it came time to pay for his rehab treatment. Apparently there’s no help for a person trying to get their life together. It makes me think about all of the people who live on welfare. It makes me think about all the low-income and homeless kids that I served back home. It makes me think about Rick and his baby girl, Cece.

In the end, I tell her, there will never be a socialist government in the US without some kind of revolution. We’ll never see free healthcare or a free education.

9:37PM: I drive home after class and have something to eat. I watch TV for a little bit and fell asleep. The music videos on Banda Max aren’t that interesting anymore. And the election coverage doesn’t tell me anything that I didn’t already know four months ago.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008-8:35AM: I wake up this morning and we have a new president-elect. On the news a woman in Watts cries because she can now tell her son with complete sincerity that he can one day be president. Another man proclaims it a historic, revolutionary day. I think about Rick and his daughter again.

I hope for their sake it’s true. I hope for their sake the revolution is finally here.