VOP Front Porch Diaries

Ashley Taggart

Roanoke, VA

As I was knocking on my last doors in Roanoke, I came across an elderly gentleman sitting on his front porch who allowed me one of the best conversations of my summer.  After I gave my rap, he seemed hesitant to answer any questions, but then after a few minutes of contemplating what the most important issue in his community he responded with the following:

 “The most important issue in my community is that I feel that I cannot go into downtown Roanoke at night because I’m black.” 

He explained by saying that he is profiled when he walks into restaurants or bars after dark with his friends. They are closely watched, yet two feet away there could be a crowd of white men or women acting belligerent  without a look their way from the local authorities.  This man opened my eyes to an issue that I had been blind to for so long.  My conversation with him has made me more conscious of the different injustices that may be taking place in my own community.

Christie Kargbo

Petersburg Team

Working with VOP has been one of the most amazing things that have happened to me in my years as a young adult. I’ve gained so much strength this summer and learned a lot about the world around me that nothing can hold me back from the things I want to accomplish in life. Having people talk to you at the doors and let you into their lives have been one of the many things I enjoyed from interning. Whether it be good or bad, I’ve learned to internalize things as apart of life and not to charge it to the heart and allow it to become a negative aspect.

I have meet so many people with different stories of what they have gone through in life but my favorite one was of an elder lady from Haiti.
In Petersburg, I was canvassing an apartment building where there was nothing but broken windows, and vacant apartment house. The whole area looked like no one resides there except there was  music coming from the second floor. I went up to the building to see if there were kids hanging out. To my surprise it was a 68 year old women that was sitting on the balcony all by herself.  After talking to her for about five  minutes she told me how her husband was the only one working and supporting the family. Her veins on  both feet had burst and she wasn’t able to walk or stand for a long period of time. She told me how they didn’t have enough money to afford health care and she wasn’t able to get treatment.  She also told me how they can barely afford to put food on their table now-a days because the person that use to help them lost her job. So her husband and her were not receiving help from anyone but were still making ends meet to survive.

I told her how sorry I was about everything she was going through, and that there are organizations out there like VOP that are working hard to help people like her. Afterwords, when I continued on to the next turf, I felt so bad that I asked my Petersburg crew if they can take me to the store when our day was over. I brought her some can goods, and easy to prepare food and took it back to the house. She was so thankful for what I did and repeatedly blessed me.  It was one of the most influential moments for me throughout this internship.

Ashley Taggart

Roanoke Team

Why are people so afraid of change? I understand the logic that if something isn’t broken, one shouldn’t fix it, but how can anyone say that there is nothing broken about the healthcare system as it is today. The more I learn about health care over the course of the summer, the more upset I become with those who say “I think everything is great.” Everything is not great. There are millions of people without health care, and I’m talking about just in Virginia! Every time I hear a story about someone having to choose between paying for prescriptions or buying groceries, I am pushed further in my quest for health care reform.  

So I come back to my original question, why are people so afraid of change? Our country was built off of change, development, and progression. We are always claiming that the United States is a country of freedom, choice, and opportunity. So why not offer the choice and opportunity of a public health insurance option?

Christie Kargbo

Petersburg Team

One night I was canvassing an  apartment complex in Colonial Heights and came across this guy that was seating outside his house. I gave him my rap and asked him what issues where most important to him. Before I could finished my sentence he replied with no hesitation that  health care was the only thing important to him and how nothing else mattered. He told me how he had gotten sick on the job with liver problems. He  went to the doctor and had surgery. However, after operation the insurance company refused to pay all of what they should have and he ended up in debt. It went down hill after that because he wasn’t able to work after the operation and was soon let go at his job.

He told me how he had done everything he could to get affordable coverage  but because he didn’t have a job he wasn’t able to continue paying premiums.

Despite what his been through in life he still had a big heart and was able to make jokes about life and how I should make sure I do the right things in life. He said that despite the obstacles I  may encounter in the future,  never fail to get back up and keep moving.  As I  stood there listening to him, I found it amazing that although so much had gone wrong in his life  he still found time to not let the system bring him down. He said was willing to help volunteer with VOP. At that moment I  didn’t care that it was hot outside or that I have been walking for seven hours. I was thankful for what I had and happy I was able to have meet such a kindhearted man.

Naomi Huntingdon

Roanoke Team

At the very beginning of the summer, a fellow intern remarked that you never know what’s going to happen on someone’s front porch. “Every door is different,” she said, and I’ve remembered that refrain with remarkable frequency. I can’t count the number of times I’ve turned away from a conversation on someone’s steps, stinging by the harshness of their rejection or aching because of their lack of empathy for others. And as I walk away from the door, I force myself to remember that every door is different, and that the next conversation I have may cause someone to register to vote for the first time, may be the reason Senator Warner takes a stand in favor of a public health care option, may even change my life. Every door is different, and so I have learned that I must channel my frustration with the startling lack of concern for others exhibitted by so many people into an energy that can be used to advance our cause of social justice.

And so the cold, harsh anger that is always induced by callous statements such as, “I have health insurance; the system must be working–it’s the people who aren’t,” becomes a tool. I am able to use it as I imagine what it would be like to worry about my family getting the medications that they need. I am able to use it as I remember the hundreds of people I’ve spoken with who are living day to day, making tough choices between food, medicine, and electricity. And I am able to use it as I envision a future in which the idea of being unable to obtain a lifesaving surgery will be as foreign as a the idea as being denied the right to vote because of your gender or race, being barred from the freedoms of speech and religion, or being refused the guarantee of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

On some days, it is hard not to become discouraged. On bad days, the refusals tend to wear you down at a much faster rate; the doors seem to slam louder, and the glares seem to be just a bit more mean. But the vision of a country in which nobody stays up at night, wondering whether or not they’ll be able to pay for both their medications and their groceries, or worrying that they’ll have to choose between their child’s visit to the doctor and her school clothes, is far stronger than those bad days. So I knock on a door that I hope will yield a better result–every door is different. And I pick up the phone, calling Senator Warner’s office again to remind him that my name is Naomi Huntington, I am from Christiansburg, and yes, I am still in favor of a public health care option.

Niti Patel

Charlottesville Team

 A few days ago, I was having a pretty long score of refusals and unsupportive people.  Moving on to my next door, I felt certain the outcome would fall in line with the day’s results thus far.  As I walked up the driveway, I saw an older man on his riding lawnmower.  I thought for sure he would refuse me.  As I initiated my rap, the man immediately gave me the third degree on my party affiliation, funding, etc.  After explaining our nonpartisan stance, he begrudgingly agreed to give me a few minutes of his time.  As soon as the issue of health care arose, I saw an immediate shift in the man’s eyes.  He told me how strongly he felt that our health care system needed reform.  He went on to tell me that his wife had recently passed away as a result of cancer.  She had received treatment in-state through the insurance they had, but in order to get advanced treatment, they needed out-of-state treatment.  Their health insurance did not cover it, and they couldn’t afford it, so she went without the treatment.  A few weeks later she passed away.  The same eyes that had previously looked at me suspiciously now glistened with tears.  He turned to me and told me that I was doing a good thing and that he would assuredly make the phone call. 

I walked away from that man deeply saddened, yet even more impassioned for the work that I was doing.  As my canvassing experience progresses, I carry the stories of all the people that have been affected by our broken health care system, and the need for reform becomes increasingly apparent.

Atlee Webber

Northern VA Team

After ten weeks of canvassing, I have spoken to many people that have suffered because of the broken health care system in America. Each day over the summer, as Congressmen continued to debate over health care legislation, I heard justification after justification that reform was necessary. As I talked to people at the door, I often wished that an anti-reform Senator were standing beside me, listening to the candid, moving stories. When a mother in Fairfax City explained to me that her son was recently diagnosed with Metachromatic Leukodystrophy (MLD), I sensed her feeling of helplessness. The boy’s disorder required 24-hour care, and as the mother was waiting to hear from Medicaid, the bills were piling up quickly. She spoke quietly, sadly, and I was hesitant to ask anymore questions after she finished. When I got home that day, I looked up MLD, and discovered it’s a neurological disorder with a grim life expectancy. With chagrin, I acknowledged that MLD patients would be poor investments for insurance companies.

People should not be considered “poor investments.”

Fortunately, I got a chance to relay her story to in a congressional office. Though the congressman is generally supportive of health care reform, I got a sense of satisfaction that I could pass on her story to those in power. By sharing their stories, we ensure the victim’s presence as indignant, hurting, and very real human beings in the minds of Americans and the legislators.

Kelsey Miller

Southwest Team

When I met Mark, he was perched on the porch having a post-supper swing.  The television sounded loudly, a car dealership advertisement, and his wife was at work.  She was lucky, he said, to have a part-time job. Happening upon someone on their porch can often be the most awkward encounter or most fruitful.  Every day, it baffles me, the willingness of folks to share their entire life’s story.  Mark developed a back problem a few years back, in part due to the manual labor requirements of his job.  Not working was not an option; he’d worked all his life, 20 years for the same employer.  The company, who did provide insurance, figured Mark was too costly for the economic times—medical insurance and tenure—so they made the decision for him. 

 Out of work for three months, Mark reaching the end of his health insurance coverage.  Three times each year, he must travel to Roanoke for injections that ease years of grinding back pain. With insurance, he would pay $300 per treatment.  Without insurance, it will cost him $900.  Without steady income, it’s nearly impossible to pay rising electricity and fuel bills on top of newly assumed medical cost.

 No one had ever asked Mark’s opinion or to hear his story.  Wielding only a pen, clipboard and attentive ears, we are provided the means of giving someone a place.  My eyes are opened to the millions of Americans who fall “in between.”  In Southwest Virginia and all across the state, many folks, like Mark, are between jobs.  Wasting no time, we must collectively lift up Mark’s needs, making sure our health care system provides nationwide security.

Anne Kern

Petersburg Team

Wow, I can’t believe that we have been canvassing for two and a half months now….

We all talked to an incredible amount of people and have heard so many different stories.

 This internship has broadened my horizons in so many ways.

 First off I don’t take the health care system back in Germany for granted anymore. It’s still difficult for me to understand, how this system works here and why so many things aren’t working properly the way they should.

How come you have to have car insurance, but no health insurance???? Back home in Germany (although I must say Richmond has grown to become my home now, too!) health care is no issue. You have to have it. End of story.

So that is one of the big things I have learned in the past few weeks.

In addition to that I realized how lucky I am.

Back in Germany I have a healthy family, my parents have been married happily for over twenty years and I have a good education.

I always considered those things to be quite normal – now I think differently. After seeing so many sick and broken families, and realizing how many people simply can’t afford to send their kids to college, I appreciate my life way more.

For this blog in have no story to tell.

All I want to talk about is a phrase I heard a lot throughout the course of the summer:

Thank you.

Thank you for wanting to help.

Thank you for doing this.

Thank you for leaving my porch.

But there was one particular one that really struck me:

Thank you for making me think.

Have you ever wondered how many people have actually started to think more about the issues we talked about with them?

I think our job stimulates peoples’ thoughts.

I believe we have the power to make something happen.

And I know we can help.

 Thank you VOP for this amazing summer!

Richard Aylor

Roanoke Team

One of the biggest concerns people had in the Roanoke area this summer were youth issues.  Teenagers and children do not have enough to do in the community and most feel that this causes crime. The crime rate is higher in the parts of Roanoke where young people have no activities.  Unfortunately, it seems as if the city is lacking behind on youth issues.   Young people are too important to society for the city to be neglecting them. 

My team brought this issue up with Delegate Onzlee Ware when we met with him on July 14th.  I was surprised to learn that Delegate Onzlee Ware works to bring revenue into the city but does not control how the money is spent.  He also told us that the city builds the recreation buildings for the youth to use, but they let private groups decide how to use the facilities.  This method does not seem to be working because teenagers still do not have enough to do.  This is especially true in certain neighborhoods.  The city needs to be more involved with today’s youth because they are the future.  Just think of how much the crime rate could drop if the youth had more to do.  Hopefully the findings will pressure the city to address this problem and take action.