A Reason to Believe_ Lessons From an Improbable Life - Deval Patrick [73]
He announced his candidacy in February 2007. Before a huge, enthusiastic crowd in Springfield, Illinois, he ignited a nervous sense of possibility. Speculation naturally turned to whether he could win; the general consensus was negative. Diane and I had dinner with a fellow governor and her husband one summer evening during a governors’ retreat in upstate Michigan. I was new to the job and still tiptoeing around the veteran politicians, trying to avoid political conversations the way one might in any new company. Not Diane. She broke the ice by asking the governor her thoughts about the field of probable candidates, including the favorite Democrat, Hillary Clinton. The governor said flatly that Clinton could not win and that “Barack should.” In conversations like that one, repeated over and over among politicians and casual observers alike, I began to sense that what people wanted most was a reason to hope. They wanted to be inspired. They wanted leadership.
Still, so many people I spoke with said they wanted Obama to be president but feared he could never be elected. Pundits and pollsters dismissed the idea as a long shot at best, self-indulgent at worst. According to some commentators, Clinton even outpolled Obama among black people. By summer, the campaign seemed stalled.
In August, after several grueling months of campaigning, Barack and Michele Obama went to Martha’s Vineyard for a vacation with their family and stayed with Valerie Jarrett, a close friend from Chicago. Diane and I joined them for dinner one night, and the five of us sat gazing out at the water on a perfect summer evening, talking lazily. Diane had never met Barack and I had never met Michele, but everyone was so relaxed that we all felt like fast friends.
At that point, I had been asked by most of the Democratic candidates if I would endorse them. I had made no promises, mindful that contested primaries are treacherous waters to swim in. I was grateful to President Clinton for bringing me into his administration in a role I cared so much about. I admired Hillary Clinton. I had also come to know and respect Joe Biden, then the senior senator from Delaware. Nonetheless, I believed that Barack was uniquely qualified to provide inspirational leadership at the national level, and as the evening wound down, I told Barack I would endorse him later in the fall in Boston.
On the way over to the Vineyard, I had talked with Diane about what advice I would give the candidate, and I wrote it down on a scrap of paper. Later, after dinner and dessert and a lot of laughs, it was time to leave, but not quite yet. Still at the dinner table, I told Barack that I wanted to speak to him not as a political tactician, given my limited experience, but as a friend and a citizen about what I wanted to see in a presidential candidate.
“First,” I said, checking my scrap of paper, “run like you’re willing to lose.” I challenged him to say exactly what he thought and believed, because people can read a fake every time and because nothing persuades like conviction. Never mind that some would disagree. Our politics should not require us to agree on everything before we can work together on anything
“Second, run at the grassroots,” I said. I was certain that most people resent having self-proclaimed experts tell them what the outcome of the election will be even before they vote. But I also felt, I said, that grassroots campaigning is not simply a political tactic but a philosophy about community. When it comes to politics and civic life, I said, so many feel as if they’re on the outside looking in. His opportunity was to go to