The Weight of a Single Signature: Harsh Reality on Allston Streets
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작성자 보스톤 작성일 26-04-18 22:36본문
(Boston = Boston Korea) MyongSool Chang= I volunteered to collect 1,000 signatures for Linda Champion, who is running for Suffolk District Attorney. It had been a long time since I directly participated in campaign activities—not since the grassroots canvassing I did in New Hampshire during Barack Obama's 2008 presidential campaign. Perhaps so much time had passed that only good memories remained. I never imagined that a single signature could weigh this heavily.
While writing an article about Linda Champion, I impulsively sent her a message asking if there was anything I could help with. Linda immediately responded, asking me to collect signatures in the Allston area. The urge to do something came first. There was no room for concrete, realistic calculations. April 28 was the deadline to submit 1,000 signatures. From the start, I had a feeling it wouldn't be easy. In reality, securing signatures is one of the most difficult and arduous hurdles in the early stages of a campaign. My heart was heavy as I met Linda at New England Korean School in Newton, picked up the signature sheets, and headed to Allston.
Reflecting on myself, the odds seemed slim. I had always coldly passed by people holding out such signature sheets on the street. Those scenes flashed through my mind like a montage. Looking back, I too had responded to such requests on the street only a handful of times. Moreover, the conditions were demanding. I needed to collect names and addresses. They had to be Boston residents, at least 18 years old, and registered voters as Democrats or Independents. In mathematical terms, there were too many variables. Even if one person out of ten agreed to talk, that one person still had to meet all the conditions. Anxiety crept in: 'What if I can't collect even a single signature?'
Fortunately, the weather was nice. However, things went wrong from the start. My 14-year-old son, Alex, put on the brakes. Everything was fine while we had lunch at Korean Garden. But when I explained that today's task was to walk around the streets collecting signatures, his response was "No."
He said he didn't know today's assignment was signature collection and thought it was just covering Linda Champion's campaign. He declared he wouldn't participate in collecting signatures. Thinking about it, I realized I hadn't explained this task very specifically. Eventually, I had to start by persuading my son. Still, there was a breakthrough. I had a sudden idea to first ask a second-generation Korean-American student working there for a signature. When I explained the purpose and earnestly asked for a signature, the student, after hesitating briefly, finally agreed to sign. It was the first signature. Not a bad start.
We went out to the streets. I needed a "keen eye" to pick out people who didn't look busy. But once on the street, I could barely spot anyone within the strike zone. The street was a place where everyone was heading somewhere. As soon as I stopped someone to talk, they passed by. I immediately realized a tactical adjustment was needed. I needed people standing still, not walking.
I urged Gun to head to Sanbada, a restaurant making waves in Allston. I calculated that there would be long lines and a high proportion of Korean-Americans, increasing the probability of success. As expected, many people were waiting. I approached groups of waiting people and started conversations.
However, finding eligible voters wasn't easy. There were people from other states, international students, and researchers. I didn't get a single signature. When a Korean child showed interest in a fire truck parked on the roadside, a friendly-looking Black firefighter kindly engaged in conversation and showed the child around. When their conversation ended and he climbed back into the truck, I quickly approached him. Though he had been so kind to the child, he showed reluctance toward the signature sheet.
I turned direction to Harvard Avenue and decided to target the front of Cafe Weekend, which had a long waiting line. I figured there was a higher chance of meeting eligible voters by approaching Americans rather than Korean-Americans. I approached about four groups, but when I asked three teams if they lived in Boston, they immediately turned away, saying they didn't. Even someone who said they lived in Boston drew a line as soon as I explained the purpose of the signature sheet.
I walked back and forth between Brighton Avenue and Harvard Avenue, observing people on the street. I looked for anyone with even a bit of leisure, but everyone walking in the sunny afternoon seemed busy heading somewhere. I only reconfirmed that there was no chance of success approaching people who wouldn't stop. It was time to revise the strategy again. It needed to be a psychologically stable space. I had to target people who were doing their own thing in places like inside restaurants or buildings, but without the immediate burden of moving elsewhere. That was ultimately why the first signature came through. The space inside the restaurant made conversation possible and allowed for explanation.
I entered Hanmaru, a gamjatang specialty restaurant, but there were no Boston residents. Then I suddenly thought I should find places where people constantly come and go. The place that came to mind was the 161 Harvard Avenue building where Boston Korea is located. There was a salsa dance studio, a nail salon, and a clothing store targeting enthusiasts. Foot traffic was frequent, and above all, being an indoor space seemed to provide psychological stability.
In retrospect, it was a relatively successful choice. The biggest change appeared in my son Gun. After watching his father get coldly rejected by countless people, he seemed to develop a sense of distinguishing between likely and unlikely prospects. He started advising, "Dad, I think that person will work. I don't think that one will." Then, when I said, "Why don't you try it?" he, who had been indifferent just a few hours earlier, stepped forward saying, "I'll show you."
Now, without being asked, he started approaching people passing through the hallway, asking first, "Do you live in Boston?" It was a big help. I would explain that we were collecting 1,000 signatures to get Linda Champion on the Suffolk District Attorney ballot, then ask if they were Democratic or Independent voters. If they answered yes, I would then ask if they could sign. People who answered up to that point had a much higher probability of actually signing.
Of course, most were not Boston residents. Even I, who was collecting signatures, wasn't a Boston resident, was I? There were residents of Cambridge, Brookline, Newton, Somerville, Medford, and even New Hampshire.
One woman, who said she was a New Hampshire state representative, was with her daughter. She was a Democrat, but her daughter lived in Boston but was a Republican. Coincidentally, neither was eligible to sign. Instead, the representative offered advice. To collect signatures, I should at least prepare a simple handout with the candidate's profile.
"Signing to get someone on the ballot can almost be interpreted as saying you'll vote for that person," she said, adding that for that, a candidate profile is necessary.
That advice immediately became reality. Several Boston residents who were Democratic voters kept asking who Linda Champion was. I discussed her orientation and background, but they politely declined to sign, saying they would judge after researching more. It wasn't just that couple. Many asked the same question and said they couldn't sign for a candidate they didn't know well.
Two people were most memorable. The first was a white woman in her twenties. When I asked about signing, she said "Absolutely" without a moment's hesitation and signed immediately. It was so refreshing. But then, in the last address field, she wrote Brookline instead of Boston. Ultimately, it was an invalid signature. Still, I could only repeatedly thank someone who had responded so readily.
The second was a Chinese-American male college student voter. He answered that he lived in Boston and was an Independent, then asked what kind of candidate Linda Champion was. I briefly explained the current Suffolk DA race structure, that Linda was a former prosecutor under the current DA, and that she decided to run following the issue of Kevin Hayden's prosecution of Boston police. He then asked what important prosecutions Linda Champion had handled in the past and what impact she had on the community.
I answered that I didn't know exactly what cases Linda Champion handled as a Suffolk prosecutor in the past. However, I explained that the reason I support her is because she played an important role as president of the Korean American Civic League (KACL) in converting to nonprofit status, activating exchanges with the Asian community, and transitioning to the second generation. I added that considering these points, I believe Linda can play a meaningful role as Suffolk DA.
He immediately pulled out his phone and searched for KACL. Meanwhile, I messaged Linda about the need for a profile. Linda immediately sent back a lengthy profile. The title was "Linda Champion, Daughter of a Military Police Officer." I showed him the message. He finally expressed his intention to sign. The reason was clear. "I liked that Linda actively worked to build bridges with the Chinese-American community as well." I thought to myself, 'Smart guy. Very clear.' I also thought I hoped my son would emulate that quality.
Failures overwhelmingly outnumbered successes. Total signatures barely reached 7. Yet time flowed relentlessly. It was time to go home. Even on the drive home, the sunlight still illuminated the streets. My son Gun, sitting next to me, spoke.
"The sun's still out. We did so much today…. Still, it was a really productive day."
It had to be a long day for him—giving a presentation on Kim Gu with Korean school friends in the morning, then moving locations to collect signatures on Allston streets. Route 95 North was blocked by an accident, so Google guided us through local roads. Still, the drive home felt strangely comfortable.
[email protected]
While writing an article about Linda Champion, I impulsively sent her a message asking if there was anything I could help with. Linda immediately responded, asking me to collect signatures in the Allston area. The urge to do something came first. There was no room for concrete, realistic calculations. April 28 was the deadline to submit 1,000 signatures. From the start, I had a feeling it wouldn't be easy. In reality, securing signatures is one of the most difficult and arduous hurdles in the early stages of a campaign. My heart was heavy as I met Linda at New England Korean School in Newton, picked up the signature sheets, and headed to Allston.
Reflecting on myself, the odds seemed slim. I had always coldly passed by people holding out such signature sheets on the street. Those scenes flashed through my mind like a montage. Looking back, I too had responded to such requests on the street only a handful of times. Moreover, the conditions were demanding. I needed to collect names and addresses. They had to be Boston residents, at least 18 years old, and registered voters as Democrats or Independents. In mathematical terms, there were too many variables. Even if one person out of ten agreed to talk, that one person still had to meet all the conditions. Anxiety crept in: 'What if I can't collect even a single signature?'
Fortunately, the weather was nice. However, things went wrong from the start. My 14-year-old son, Alex, put on the brakes. Everything was fine while we had lunch at Korean Garden. But when I explained that today's task was to walk around the streets collecting signatures, his response was "No."
He said he didn't know today's assignment was signature collection and thought it was just covering Linda Champion's campaign. He declared he wouldn't participate in collecting signatures. Thinking about it, I realized I hadn't explained this task very specifically. Eventually, I had to start by persuading my son. Still, there was a breakthrough. I had a sudden idea to first ask a second-generation Korean-American student working there for a signature. When I explained the purpose and earnestly asked for a signature, the student, after hesitating briefly, finally agreed to sign. It was the first signature. Not a bad start.
We went out to the streets. I needed a "keen eye" to pick out people who didn't look busy. But once on the street, I could barely spot anyone within the strike zone. The street was a place where everyone was heading somewhere. As soon as I stopped someone to talk, they passed by. I immediately realized a tactical adjustment was needed. I needed people standing still, not walking.
I urged Gun to head to Sanbada, a restaurant making waves in Allston. I calculated that there would be long lines and a high proportion of Korean-Americans, increasing the probability of success. As expected, many people were waiting. I approached groups of waiting people and started conversations.
However, finding eligible voters wasn't easy. There were people from other states, international students, and researchers. I didn't get a single signature. When a Korean child showed interest in a fire truck parked on the roadside, a friendly-looking Black firefighter kindly engaged in conversation and showed the child around. When their conversation ended and he climbed back into the truck, I quickly approached him. Though he had been so kind to the child, he showed reluctance toward the signature sheet.
I turned direction to Harvard Avenue and decided to target the front of Cafe Weekend, which had a long waiting line. I figured there was a higher chance of meeting eligible voters by approaching Americans rather than Korean-Americans. I approached about four groups, but when I asked three teams if they lived in Boston, they immediately turned away, saying they didn't. Even someone who said they lived in Boston drew a line as soon as I explained the purpose of the signature sheet.
I walked back and forth between Brighton Avenue and Harvard Avenue, observing people on the street. I looked for anyone with even a bit of leisure, but everyone walking in the sunny afternoon seemed busy heading somewhere. I only reconfirmed that there was no chance of success approaching people who wouldn't stop. It was time to revise the strategy again. It needed to be a psychologically stable space. I had to target people who were doing their own thing in places like inside restaurants or buildings, but without the immediate burden of moving elsewhere. That was ultimately why the first signature came through. The space inside the restaurant made conversation possible and allowed for explanation.
I entered Hanmaru, a gamjatang specialty restaurant, but there were no Boston residents. Then I suddenly thought I should find places where people constantly come and go. The place that came to mind was the 161 Harvard Avenue building where Boston Korea is located. There was a salsa dance studio, a nail salon, and a clothing store targeting enthusiasts. Foot traffic was frequent, and above all, being an indoor space seemed to provide psychological stability.
In retrospect, it was a relatively successful choice. The biggest change appeared in my son Gun. After watching his father get coldly rejected by countless people, he seemed to develop a sense of distinguishing between likely and unlikely prospects. He started advising, "Dad, I think that person will work. I don't think that one will." Then, when I said, "Why don't you try it?" he, who had been indifferent just a few hours earlier, stepped forward saying, "I'll show you."
Now, without being asked, he started approaching people passing through the hallway, asking first, "Do you live in Boston?" It was a big help. I would explain that we were collecting 1,000 signatures to get Linda Champion on the Suffolk District Attorney ballot, then ask if they were Democratic or Independent voters. If they answered yes, I would then ask if they could sign. People who answered up to that point had a much higher probability of actually signing.
Of course, most were not Boston residents. Even I, who was collecting signatures, wasn't a Boston resident, was I? There were residents of Cambridge, Brookline, Newton, Somerville, Medford, and even New Hampshire.
One woman, who said she was a New Hampshire state representative, was with her daughter. She was a Democrat, but her daughter lived in Boston but was a Republican. Coincidentally, neither was eligible to sign. Instead, the representative offered advice. To collect signatures, I should at least prepare a simple handout with the candidate's profile.
"Signing to get someone on the ballot can almost be interpreted as saying you'll vote for that person," she said, adding that for that, a candidate profile is necessary.
That advice immediately became reality. Several Boston residents who were Democratic voters kept asking who Linda Champion was. I discussed her orientation and background, but they politely declined to sign, saying they would judge after researching more. It wasn't just that couple. Many asked the same question and said they couldn't sign for a candidate they didn't know well.
Two people were most memorable. The first was a white woman in her twenties. When I asked about signing, she said "Absolutely" without a moment's hesitation and signed immediately. It was so refreshing. But then, in the last address field, she wrote Brookline instead of Boston. Ultimately, it was an invalid signature. Still, I could only repeatedly thank someone who had responded so readily.
The second was a Chinese-American male college student voter. He answered that he lived in Boston and was an Independent, then asked what kind of candidate Linda Champion was. I briefly explained the current Suffolk DA race structure, that Linda was a former prosecutor under the current DA, and that she decided to run following the issue of Kevin Hayden's prosecution of Boston police. He then asked what important prosecutions Linda Champion had handled in the past and what impact she had on the community.
I answered that I didn't know exactly what cases Linda Champion handled as a Suffolk prosecutor in the past. However, I explained that the reason I support her is because she played an important role as president of the Korean American Civic League (KACL) in converting to nonprofit status, activating exchanges with the Asian community, and transitioning to the second generation. I added that considering these points, I believe Linda can play a meaningful role as Suffolk DA.
He immediately pulled out his phone and searched for KACL. Meanwhile, I messaged Linda about the need for a profile. Linda immediately sent back a lengthy profile. The title was "Linda Champion, Daughter of a Military Police Officer." I showed him the message. He finally expressed his intention to sign. The reason was clear. "I liked that Linda actively worked to build bridges with the Chinese-American community as well." I thought to myself, 'Smart guy. Very clear.' I also thought I hoped my son would emulate that quality.
Failures overwhelmingly outnumbered successes. Total signatures barely reached 7. Yet time flowed relentlessly. It was time to go home. Even on the drive home, the sunlight still illuminated the streets. My son Gun, sitting next to me, spoke.
"The sun's still out. We did so much today…. Still, it was a really productive day."
It had to be a long day for him—giving a presentation on Kim Gu with Korean school friends in the morning, then moving locations to collect signatures on Allston streets. Route 95 North was blocked by an accident, so Google guided us through local roads. Still, the drive home felt strangely comfortable.
[email protected]
Original Korean article: https://bostonkorea.com/bbs/board.php?bo_table=news&wr_id=44802
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