Chrystal Bartlett

Political Action:
Cheaper Than You Think

Like many, I’m disgusted at the perceived lock our nation’s wealthy have on politics. With access to candidates and office holders confined to $500-and-up-a-head dinners, golf outings, and other high-toned affairs, many are left out of the process.

Quarrels over the nation’s status as a democracy or republic aside, oligarchy—rule by a favored, usually wealthy, few—sticks in most craws. Government BY the people FOR the people should not require an admission price FEW of the people can pay.

If you agree, here’s an affordable way to counter that trend and put politics back in the hands of anyone with $10. Hold a fundraiser. I just discovered it is easier and more affordable than I had ever dreamed. With less than $300 in hand, my event brought 65 people into contact with a candidate and netted $1,500. Here’s how.

Two essential ingredients are food and a candidate. New Hampsherites may coffee their way to the polls, but below the Mason-Dixon, hospitality demands chow. In North Carolina, barbecue is a noun and sweet tea a birthright, so menu planning was easy.

First, find a man with a pig cooker. It has to be a man, for no other gender jumps to donate both cooker and early morning labor to demonstrate their mastery. Cast those feminist notions aside and take advantage of the Y chromosome for a good cause. Pigs large enough to feed 50 cost around $100.

Beg or borrow tables and chairs from like-minded friends. Place your potted plants on the table. You’re done decorating. Bake or buy three dozen each of cookies and brownies, purchase assorted sodas, get spuds on sale for potato salad (cheap and filling!), and shred a few heads of cabbage for slaw. Brew gallons of sweet tea. Menu complete, your overhead should be near $150—less if paper plates, napkins, cups, and forks were already on hand.

Lesson #1: Hooch is optional, I discovered. Our $110 keg of Bud was largely ignored, but we ran low on sodas. Go figure. For $500 I’d expect liquor, too, but my $10-a-head crowd made food, sobriety and access to the candidate their priorities.

Getting the word out was easy. I started two weeks out with an e-mail invitation and 15 fliers. Candidates have contacts, and their party faithful will spread the word for you. I also posted fliers in local grocery stores, libraries, and a corner bar. The local newspaper mentioned us in their calendar section for free! Advertising budget? 30 minutes labor, one hour of driving/walking, and 10 thumbtacks.

Entertaining takes work, so put away your checkbook—your donation is labor. With the pig well under way, I set out chairs and tables an hour or so before start time. With three friends helping, it took about 15 minutes. Placing the buffet was another 10 minutes. We’d forgotten ice and nametags, so a quick trip to the corner store came next. (A note about nametags: They let you know who paid and who just wandered by—a nice way to make the distinction when your venue is a front yard!) By now we’d spent another $20, bringing our overhead to $280.

Like any hosts operating without an RSVP (or with), we were nervous, excited, and hopeful. Cars rolled in five minutes before our 1:00 PM start and kept rolling 30 minutes after our 4:00 PM close. The planned-for 50 heads morphed into 65, but the chow held out, no doubt a product of some eating more or less than the anticipated two pounds each (thank you, Betty Crocker)!

Taking money is an art—especially in politics. The law requires a record of who gave what, his/her address, donation amount, and occupation. When I made the flier, I created a form and ran off five copies. My boyfriend’s honest face deemed him the natural choice, so complete with folding chair, shades, clipboard, a few pens, and a cold drink nearby, he sedately embarked on his new career as political bagman.

Within 15 minutes he was busier than a one-armed paper hangar. Lesson #2: cooked pig smells so good that people will throw money at you and dash in its direction. Assign a pal to help out whenever three or more gather—you’ll be busy replenishing tea and potato salad.

Speechmaking is the entertainment, but hold off for an hour or so to allow for chow, socializing, and a crowd to gather. Lesson #3: Prepare for post-speech rushes on both the food and donation front.

The final hour I refilled bowls, jugs, and plates, and cleared what little trash didn’t police itself into the labeled trash and recycling bins. I also made a eelightful discovery: $10 crowds bus their own tables! By 4:30 PM, we’d wiped and stacked chairs and tables with the help of lingering guests (they’ll work for leftovers). We broke the buffet down into doggie bags, counted the money, and we were left to contemplate the fact we’d raised three times our goal. Who’d a-thunk the masses would be so enthusiastic that they’d donate more than asked?

Days later, we heard of two similar upcoming events: One is a breakfast (eggs are cheap) and the other host has a shellfish connection and is planning to roast oysters. Nobody’s asking more than $25, but they’ll take more if you’re willing!

I’d be the last to call myself an activist, but this idea and the way it spread is too good to keep to myself. It reminds me of Arlo Guthrie’s protest anthem, Alice’s Restaurant.* For the younger set, Arlo sings of ideas and how people spread them. To paraphrase, with apologies to Arlo:

If just one person does it they may think he's really sick
And if two people do it, in harmony, they may think they're both sick.
If three people do it, three, they may think it's an organization.
And can you imagine fifty? Friends, they may think it's a movement.

* Guthrie, Arlo. “Alice’s Restaurant.” 1966.

Chrystal Bartlett currently works as Stormwater Awareness & Outreach Coordinator for the N.C. Department of Environment and Natural Resources where she recently launched a new stormwater Web site, www.ncstormwater.org. She is also a freelance voiceover talent and image management consult. Before working at DENR, she worked as a DJ, news reporter and at several ad agencies. Chrystal graduated from N.C. State University with a B.A. in Communication and an M.A. in Public Relations.

Chrystal Bartlett lives and writes in Raleigh, NC. When not at her 'paying job' she does freelance voicework and image consulting.

She can be reached weekdays at 919.715.4116 or at chrystal.bartlett@ncmail.net.