A Chicagoan at heart, a series of events, including falling for a local boy, led me to spending time "Iowa-adjacent," in Moline, Illinois. Moline is on the Mississippi River and part of the Quad Cities region. When I first started coming here in 2015, and when asked, "What's it like?" by friends in Chicago, I highlighted three points that stood out the most.

First, five cities make up the Quad Cities, well at least five, some might even say eight or nine. Apparently, they started as the "Tri-Cities," changed to Quad as the region grew, but "quint" never stuck. Second, split by the Mississippi River, residents move between Illinois and Iowa  - sometimes many times a day - crossing the largest river in North America like it's no big deal. Being from Chicago, crossing the Mississippi meant a great adventure ahead, not, "We ran out of peanut better, so I am going to the Super Target." As a result, the little girl in me avoided Iowa to keep a sense of adventure alive. Finally, fall 2015 marked the beginning of primary season for the Iowa caucuses and although I was in Illinois, it's an Iowa media market. This proved to be incredibly painful because I don't travel with my Tivo and for the first time since 2004, I had to watch commercials - and political commercials at that! I started avoiding TV like I avoided Iowa.

Four years later, I still get a kick out of telling "newbies" here are eight towns in the Quad Cities, it's less of a rant than it used to be. I continue to avoid Iowa, but it is more about bridge construction, like the rest of the "locals." And I have convinced my boyfriend that Tivo is a great investment, so I won't be exposed to the commercials for the 23 Democrats traipsing all over Iowa again in the bid for 2020.

I vote in Illinois and I assume that by the time our primary rolls around, my choice for the Democratic candidate will not have much impact. Plus Illinois is an open-primary state, so as an "anybody-but-Trump"-er, I will be pulling a Republican ballot and voting for whoever else is on it. 

But this does not stop me from supporting a candidate by volunteering in Iowa. Although I have one or two "favorites," as an "anybody-but" voter, I am not yet convinced he or she is the best candidate to beat Trump in the generals. So, I am going to take advantage of being "Iowa-adjacent" and go to as many town halls, house parties, candidate coffees, etc. within a 2-hour drive and see if I can figure it out.

At the same time, I hope Iowans, with its "first-in-the-nation" pride will be open to a stranger in their midst. But I am looking forward to listening to opinions outside of a Democratically controlled area, like Chicago. Also, I have always been skeptical of our countries primary process, as, much like the electoral college, I think it gives some states undue influence over the process. As a result, I am looking forward to seeing the process up close. 

Plans for upcoming events:

• Monday, May 20, Beto O'Rourke, Davenport.
• Sunday, May 26, Sen. Cory Booker, Clinton.
• Monday, May 27, Sen. Elizabeth Warren, Burlington.

I will be looking at specific policy issues (promoting responsible budgets; decreasing costs of health care, housing, child care, and education; and promoting campaign finance as a start) as well as "electability" whatever that means.... If you have a specific question you would like me to ask or something to look out for, post it in the comments below.

The "democratic socialist" label is like nails on a chalkboard to me, no matter if it's Bernie proclaiming it proudly or FOX news dropping it with disdain. Democratic Socialists support policy reform in areas I care deeply about, such as healthcare, affordable housing and childcare, and campaign finance. They believe that democracy should work equally, for everyone. So why do I have such a visceral reaction to the label?

I have spent more time than I care to admit trying to figure out why "democratic socialist" bothers me so much. I have questioned whether the time I spent post-communist Eastern Europe has made me overly sensitive. I looked up the word" socialist" because it has been a long time since college poly sci and wanted to confirm it still means the collective ownership of the means of production (it does). I tried to understand how Bernie and AOC describe democratic socialism but direct quotes, in context, are hard to find. The secondary sources I found, are a bit biased, both to the left and to the right. That said, I found one direct quote by AOC that stuck in my head.

She is contradicting the definition of socialism. Is it just AOC? I go to the Democratic Socialists of America site. The cacophonic phrase is there too.

Suddenly, I am transported to fifth grade English class and diagramming sentences. The dust from the chalkboard is tickling my nose and I can feel the scratchy polyester fabric of my brown-plaid Catholic school uniform. My head is filled with subjects and verbs and straight lines and squiggly lines and conjunctions and adjectives and get out a pen and paper.

I know I am a bit of a grammar geek and that most people don't harken back to grade-school grammar exercises, but by relegating "democratic" to the adjective, the democratic socialists make "democratic" the less important of the two words. This subordination is what causes me to cringe at the label. And whether democratic socialists like it or not, it's not just me.

The word socialism is still viewed negatively by independent voters, in more than one poll. Although this has begun to shift, DJT and his cohort have already started using this fact in his messaging for 2020. Multiple op-eds have been written about how the democratic socialists need to do more to explain how the policies of democratic socialism are misunderstood, but wouldn't it be easier to stop using the word? Or at a minimum, adopt "social democrats"?

I know hard-core socialists don't believe the two phrases are interchangeable, but what is more important? Using the word "socialist"? Gambling that a full explanation of the platform will erase the historical baggage that comes with the word "socialism" for voters over 30?

Or can we stop using "socialism" and focus on making healthcare, education, housing, and childcare more affordable? And reforming campaign finance laws? Because isn't that the point? Ensuring our democracy works for everyone, equally?

Originally published on Medium for "It’s Complicated: Lit Up & The Writing Cooperative Contest"

I’ve been in an “on-again, off-again” relationship for twenty years. Like most of my relationships, it’s one-sided. I give more than I get. It keeps me awake at night. I fill up pages and pages in my journal analyzing every interaction, every detail, every chuckle, and every tear. I should have ended it long ago — the first time it made me sick to my stomach, the first time it left me crying into my pillow at night, or the first time I spent days unable to think about anything other than “what the hell happened there?”

What’s worse is that I know better. I learned in my teens that you cannot change the basic dynamics of a relationship. You buy ‘as is’, no refunds, no exchanges, ‘you break it you bought it’, and in my case they usually break me. The problem is that this relationship, the love of my life, isn’t with a man, it’s with a country, or more specifically a group of countries.

I’m infatuated with a region known for centuries of ethnic tension and genocide, where the borders change with the seasons, and where centuries co-mingle. Yet, I long to drive though the countryside in springtime, taking in the smell of green grass after the rain and counting picture-perfect pastures of sunflowers. I know the same scene will, depending on the country, be dotted by run-down or bombed-out buildings, but when I think of the cherries and tomatoes that await me during the summer, my mouth waters. I dream of a living in a place where organized criminals with a bad fashion sense rule business and politics, but at the same time, you can stop by a neighbor’s house unannounced and get a homemade brandy, a cheap cigarette, a tomato salad, and hours of conversation.

My love affair with the Balkans started with Bulgaria in 1997. Me, a wide-eyed Peace Corps volunteer, and my first Balkan love, a post-communist nation struggling with brain drain, a currency crisis, and an inferiority complex because its war-torn neighbors got more attention. I learned to navigate the ailing public transportation system, to cook with ingredients that had no similarity to what I knew, and to fall in love in another language. I tried to cheat on Bulgaria by checking out Macedonia and Albania, which is when I realized I loved the region, not just one country.

I fell so hard for the Balkans, when I finished the Peace Corps, I applied for graduate programs in East European Studies. I studied Serbian, read Croatian literature, explored Macedonian nationalism, and by 2002, I had a new job that would send me back to the Balkans. I added Kosovo to the list of lovers, as well as Bosnia, Montenegro, and Serbia. No matter where my destination, a Bulgarian visit always showed up on the itinerary.

Although I loved my trips, I continued to struggle with the relationship. Especially the contradictions I faced every day. They claimed to despise the growing influence of the mafia but mourned when one of their ring leaders was assassinated. Elections brought a former king to run the country when he hadn’t lived there for more than fifty years, and had never voted before. The diplomatic disputes over languages drained me. So did celebrations that ended with guns firing into the air. I hated ordering pizza “without peas and eggs.” And if one more baba (grandma) forced me to sit on a stuffy bus in the heat of the summer with all the windows closed because the “evil wind” would make everyone sick, I would scream. Actually, in one case I did. The rest of the passengers couldn’t decided if they were more shocked the American would stand up to the venerated baba, or that she could do it in their language.
In 2008, tried to break up.

I moved to Afghanistan — a fresh start, a new challenge, a clean break. This change meant I could learn a new language, enjoy a new cuisine, fall in love with a new set of mountains, and be amused by the mistakes I would make in a new culture. I learned to don a headscarf, ate saffron rice and lamb at every opportunity, and enjoyed the sounds of the daily call to prayer.

But I couldn’t get the Balkans out of my mind. I made friends with Serbians and Bulgarians in Kabul. My friends in Sofia sent me the latest gossip on each other and politics. Within the year, I planned a vacation to Bulgaria. The second I stepped off the plane and the first smell of burning garbage wafted into my nostrils, I gagged a little and smiled a lot.

These countries infuriate me, excite me, drain me, and make me scream in both laughter and frustration on a regular basis. But, I never feel more alive or more myself than when I am there.

The Balkans are and always will be my second home and my first true love.

I have a soft spot for Volunteers with Tom Hanks and John Candy because its one of the rare movies about the Peace Corps and where Tom Hanks doesn’t portray the “good guy.”  Instead, Hanks plays Lawrence Bourne III,  a rich playboy with a gambling problem who accidentally joins the Peace Corps while escaping his bookie.  Candy, on the other hand, plays Tom Tuttle, a do-gooder volunteer who also lives in the village where Bourne is assigned.  At one point, Bourne explains his his lackadaisical attitude towards making a difference in one succinct line, "It's not that I can't help these people. It's just I don't want to." 

I spend several evenings a month with the different voluntary organizations in my ward.  I enjoy meeting my neighbors and learning about what they care about, but I often wonder why it’s the same dozen or so people.  Most of my neighbors want positive change in the community and believe it's important to be part of the democratic process, so why don't they show up?  Can a nonprofit somehow determine who is likely to volunteer and who isn't?  What makes someone stop being a Bourne and start being a Tuttle?

I have spent a large chunk of my career working with volunteers around policy issues - so I know the reasons that people give their time vary: values, civic duty, faith, professional advancement, wanting to make a change, meeting new people... the list goes on and on.   But what determines who shows up to volunteer and who doesn’t?  Based on my experiences both managing volunteers and being one, I believe there are three main variables - time, knowledge, and passion - that differentiate between the Bournes and the Tuttles of the world:

Time - What does a person give up to volunteer time?  Playing with their children?  Housework?  Spending time with friends?  In my experience, volunteers are overwhelmingly stay-at-home moms, retirees, or people that are self-employed and can manage their own schedules.  The second biggest group is young people who do not have as many demands on their time.  Admittedly "time" is the obvious variable to determine why people volunteer but its important to keep in mind because respecting a volunteer's time helps to ensure the volunteer will return.  
Knowledge - Volunteers, especially with advocacy organizations, need to know their rights as citizens and where they can affect the most change in government.  Is it a local issue they should bring up with the mayor?  A national issue that needs a senator's attention?  Which branch controls the issue?  Knowledge is power and recent studies have begun to demonstrate a correlation between civic education and civic engagement.  As a policy advocate, I have always known that educating volunteers on the "hows and whys" is key to a successful campaign, but as a former social studies teacher, I am glad to hear that people are beginning to see the connection between civic education and the health of our democracy.  And its important to remember that knowledge can be provided to volunteers in order to keep them engaged in your cause through fact sheets, training sessions, and other educational opportunities.  
Passion - Merriam Webster defines passion as  "a strong feeling of enthusiasm or excitement for something or about doing something."  What made me spend four hours registering voters on Tuesday when I had a million other things to do?  Why would high school students give up their winter break to study poverty issues?  Why would a group of women race in Miami to raise awareness about chocolate companies' employment practices?   It is important to keep a volunteer's passion burning in order to keep them involved.  Getting to know your volunteers as individuals and providing individual opportunities for engagement will help stoke the fires of passion and keep volunteers engaged.  

I will keep thinking about how to identify the Tuttles from the Bournes as I work with different organizations and help them manage their volunteers.  In the interim, remember the flip side of "the why" is "how" to keep volunteers involved and key to this is making sure they feel their valuable time is used for a good cause, empowering them to make a difference, and remembering they are individuals with different motivations, skills, and passions.    

I love figuring out how things work.  I read instruction manuals for new gadgets - paying special attention to the "troubleshooting" section so I can anticipate potential problems.  I drive my chiropractor nuts asking questions about why he is adjusting "this" joint to help "that" pain.  And although I suspect she is exaggerating, my mom swears that my first word was “why?”

It's this passion for understanding what makes things tick that led me to the field of organizational development.  That, and working for nonprofits for most of my life.  Nonprofits fulfill a vital place in our society – by providing services, educating the public, or being a voice for others.  But like other types of organizations, sometimes nonprofits are inefficient, and I wanted to understand not only why this was happening, but how to change it.  When nonprofits are overwhelmingly underfunded and understaffed and very mission driven, how do you convince them that spending time on self-reflection and planning now will increase efficiency in the long run?  How to make them understand that good intentions do not exempt them from being a sound organization - having structures, policies, and processes?

I find its best to focus on the long-term gains of an organizational assessment and strategic planning process.  What future pain will disappear by making an adjustment now?  What problems reoccur that the organization should be able to anticipate?  With smaller staff, polices and processes become more important because nonprofits have high turn-over rates that result in inefficiencies if the organization isn't structured to deal with this.  In addition, tighter budgets mean nonprofits have less wiggle room for mistakes and a greater need to maximize limited resources.  In the worst-case scenario, lack of clear policies can result in scandal.  Nonprofits need to take the time to ask themselves the following types of questions:

• Who decides which grants to bid on?  The Executive Director?  The Board?  The Program Team?
  
• Does everyone in the organization understand the mission and how their job contributes to fulfilling that mission?
  
• What is the procedure for contracting a venue for an event or even buying office supplies?  Who authorizes such transactions?
  
• Are staff promoted out of loyalty?  Or because someone has just been around long enough?
  
• Do the same issues keep reoccurring, even when the staff changes?

By taking the time to think through these questions and undertake a thorough organizational assessment, a nonprofit can begin to determine where it excels in meeting its mission – and where it can improve.  Yes, it takes time to time examine the “why” in the short-run in order to identify gaps and develop structures, processes, and policies and develop a strategic plan.  But in the long-run, this extra time will result in increased efficiencies for the nonprofit, which translates to better services to its stakeholders.  And that is the "why" we all work for nonprofits, isn't it?

Coalition.  We hear the word a lot.  Coalition of the Willing.  Christian Coalition.  Rainbow PUSH Coalition.  Coalition Against Gun Violence.   25 million hits for the word on Google.  Why are there so many?  What are the benefits?  Disadvantages?  How does an organization decide whether to join? 

Coalitions are a group of like-minded people aligning themselves long-term to meet common goals.  Nonprofits form coalitions to provide services, to educate the public, or to advocate for public policy.  But before jumping into a relationship with another organization, it's important to think through all the implications to ensure you are maximizing the benefits to your stakeholders.

Benefits

• Coalitions increase numbers and there is strength in numbers. For coalitions formed around policy advocacy, increasing the number of people involved in actions is key.  More people means more letters, phone calls, meetings, and petitions.  More people means more chances for earned media at pubic events.  More people means greater results.  
• Coalitions maximize limited resources by sharing responsibilities. Since most nonprofits have limited resources, sharing is good.  Dividing up responsibilities according to each organizations' strengths maximizes these limited resources by sharing costs for personnel, office space, materials, etc. 
• Coalitions mean more people who bring more ideas.  How can a strategy be tweaked to get the best results?  Are there downsides to the plan? Is there a better approach?  With limited resources, many nonprofits are understaffed and coalitions are an effective way to share ideas, refine strategies, and achieve better results.  

Potential Challenges 
Even the most lackadaisical reader will have noticed the word “potential.”  There is one simple reason for this - I am a big fan of coalitions, and all the following issues can be avoided with proper planning and communication.  

• Like any relationship, coalitions need to be nurtured.  The flip-side to "more ideas" means more potential for conflict.  To manage this, every coalition should have a written partnership agreement that outlines roles and responsibilities of all the partners, how decisions will be made, and how new organizations will be added.  
• Your organization may lose control over branding.  Logos, talking points, social media strategy, etc. will all need to be agreed upon.  This is why many coalitions develop their own logo and slogan so that partners can co-brand materials with both the organization's and the coalition's brand.  Again, this is something to think about before a coalition is formed so it can be addressed in any partnership agreements.
• A coalition is only as strong as its weakest link and if one of the partners does not fulfill its obligations, everyone is affected.   Regular communication between members to update each other on progress is key to mitigating this risk.  In addition, you can consider different memberships levels – for example, a new member might need to prove it can deliver before it becomes a decision-making member.  Like all the other potential pitfalls, planning and keeping open lines of communication are key to mitigating these risks.  

After an organization weighs all the benefits and potential disadvantages of a coalition, it may decide that a coalition is not the best strategy and, instead, a better option would be an alliance (which is a looser association than a coalition) or a network (which is more short-term than a coalition).  I am as big a fan of these types of associations as well, because any partnership will increase the number of people and ideas involved and may decrease costs for individual organizations.  Therefore joining any well-managed partnership will help maximize a nonprofit's benefits for its stakeholders – which is what mission-based organizations are all about.  

I’m a “passionate geek” about advocacy.  A citizen’s right to tell her elected officials what she wants is, to me, an essential part of democracy.   Google any political or social issue and you will find someone who advocates for or against it.  The environment.  The second amendment.   Education.  Foreign Affairs.  Public Safety.   Infrastructure.  Animal Rights. 

Advocacy is voting intensified.  It’s freedom of speech.  If you're in a group, it is freedom of assembly and association.  It’s how we tell the government to spend money and shape policy in order to better reflect our values.

And I love it.  

The fact that Chicago’s history tells the story of important social movements only fuels my passion.  From Jane Adams’ fight for women’s suffrage to the Rainbow PUSH Coalition’s work for peace and justice and many others in between, there is a rich history of advocacy in my city.  Oh, and if you get into strategizing about the “how to” of an advocacy campaign – my geek takes over again.   What will be the most effective message?  Who will be the best spokesperson?  How should a nonprofit get the attention of government officials to advocate for a policy change? 

Advocacy options are never ending:

• Writing letters is a great tactic for domestic issues, but if you want to impact change in another country, you might want to look into divestment and boycotts.  
• Protests can generate a lot of media attention – as can peaceful rallies and public meetings – but only if you are sure enough people will show up.  
• Individual meetings with leaders can be very effective – especially if your policy issue is more local.
• Social Media.  Leafleting.  Letters to the Editor. Coalitions.  Volunteers.  Fundraisers. Direct Mail.  Phone banking.  Celebrities.  Concerts.  Opposition Research.  

The list of tactics could go on and on – almost as long as I could wax poetic about advocacy.  And all of this “geeky passion” made it very difficult to figure out where to start writing a blog about advocacy – then it hit me.  It’s passion.  Strategic planning is important but its passion that attracts volunteers.  Passion helps create effective messages.  Passion gives your team the drive to keep going after you stumble.   

Passion is the key to effective advocacy. 

Blogging during this period can be found on my campaign page at
http://annisaforalderman.weebly.com/blog