Alumni News

Personal Reflections of a Presidential Journey

Editor’s note: Creighton alumna Katie Bradley, BA’07, worked on President Barack Obama’s campaign, served on his presidential transition team and is now the deputy associate director in the White House’s Office of Management and Administration. 

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By Katie Bradley, BA’07

If you watched the 2008 presidential election on TV, you saw the confetti cannons and the red carpet, but what remained after the confetti was swept away and the CNN trucks headed home?

I had the unique opportunity to see a candidate behind the scenes. I spent weekends delivering yard signs, missed family birthdays, rang in the New Year on an all-staff conference call, ate delivery pizza six nights a week ... and loved every minute of it.  Behind the glitz and glamour TV version of the election, I saw real people who were suffering; I saw that real change was possible; and I felt that what I was doing was really going to make a difference.

I had the privilege of working on Barack Obama’s historic presidential campaign. I began as a volunteer in the state where it all began – Iowa – and then moved into a paid position with the campaign, setting up and taking down offices across the country.

My most enduring memory of this two-year odyssey will always be captured in the campaign’s motto: Respect, Empower, Include.

These three simple words were infused into the campaign from start to finish – from stumps in Iowa to the victory celebration in Chicago. These words didn’t start a campaign or win an election. Instead, I believe, these words started a movement that has forever changed politics.

Every campaign staffer has been shaped and redefined by this motto, and we each have our own version of the respect, empower, include story. This is mine.
 
Respect
I got a “C” in my introduction to political science class at Creighton. I obviously didn’t picture myself working in the White House less than two years later. I graduated in 2007 with a major in journalism and a minor in justice and peace studies, but it was the Jesuit philosophy and my time spent in Creighton programs in El Salvador and the Dominican Republic that lead me to the Obama campaign.

Creighton’s mission statement declares that as a Jesuit university, we celebrate diversity, learn through dialogue and pursue truth in all its forms. We are men and women for others, following and searching for a faith that does justice. And in witnessing our Jesuit mission in action, I felt at home in the Obama community.

Feeling at home was important, especially when “home” during the campaign meant a number of different hotels and various residences. But every new home, every election, every state, every job, taught me something new. I particularly enjoyed reading my e-mail the morning after an election. Win or lose, my inbox would be filled with stories from field organizers reporting the sights and sounds from their assigned states. One of my favorite stories came from Cincinnati, Ohio.

It was late October and three elderly women were refused admission to their Ohio early-vote polling location. They were wearing Obama T-shirts and were told they could not enter until they removed the campaign attire. In tears, they prepared to leave the line they had been standing in for more than three hours. Overhearing the commotion, a young gentleman got out of line and approached the women. Without saying a word, he took off his Dale Earnhardt racing jacket and handed it to one of the women. He instructed her to put it on and then pointed to where he would wait for her and the other women while they voted.

The three women thanked the man repeatedly and took turns wearing the coat over their Obama shirts while they voted. Returning the jacket to the stranger, the women began to talk about how important this election was to them. One explained how her small Jewish community had worked closely with an African-American community during the civil rights movement. She described this election as “the culmination of those personal and community efforts so many years ago. This election was more than just a vote, but a chance at history.”

As the ladies departed, the young man got back into the line to vote. Those who had witnessed this action asked if he was an Obama supporter. He responded, “Not until now.”

Respect. This campaign respected differences. We respected one another. And most of all, we respected the millions of men and women who paved the road and began this journey decades before us.

Empower
“Now everybody’s counting on you, not just me. And I know that’s a heavy weight – but also, what a magnificent position to find yourself in, where the whole country is counting on you to change it for the better,” Obama said in addressing his campaign staff in the summer of 2008.

I remember those words so well. I was sitting on the ping-pong table in our over-crowded Chicago campaign office. The room was sweltering (we were saving money by turning off the air-conditioning), but his words gave me chills. Most of us there were in our 20s, and we were being tasked with changing the world.

This was my first job out of college, and I should have been serving coffee and making copies. But things were different here. Instead, I was managing an $8.5 million budget after my first month in Iowa. I sat in meetings that determined every minute of the candidate’s trip to the state. Would he eat at the local diner for an off-the-record event or order dinner in the hotel room to prepare tomorrow’s speech? Would the mayor or the third-grade teacher do the rally introduction? Would the posters say, “Stand for Change” or “Change We Can Believe In”?

A close friend – a Creighton business major -- laughed at the fact that I was managing a multi-million dollar budget, and he had every right! But everyone came to the campaign with different skills to offer; we took turns being teachers and students. It didn’t matter if you were a volunteer, a paid official or an intern – the talents you brought to the campaign mattered and were equal. And as long as you had a positive attitude, a willingness to learn and could handle the insane hours, you were empowered to add your skills to the table.

Include
On Nov. 4, 2008, I sat in the Chicago campaign headquarters with a room full of some of the most talented people I know. We arrived at 5 a.m. to watch the polls open at 6. We spent the afternoon monitoring long lines at the polls, broken voting machines and the misleading “Democrats vote on Wednesday” flyers. But we also saw people coming out in record numbers, and, as CNN reported, “random acts of kindness as strangers waited to vote.” The mood in the room was similar to the mood throughout the campaign. We were excited, nervous, respectful.
 
The results started trickling in and so did the live coverage from Grant Park, where our supporters were flooding the streets. Events unfolded rapidly. We won five of the seven states where I was the operations director: Ohio, Pennsylvania, Michigan, Indiana and Illinois. And then, there was the announcement of the 44th president of the United States, Barack Obama.

I stood only a few feet from the stage as President Elect Barack Obama spoke:

And to all those watching tonight from beyond our shores, from parliaments and palaces to those who are huddled around radios in the forgotten corners of our world - our stories are singular, but our destiny is shared, and a new dawn of American leadership is at hand. To those who would tear this world down - we will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security - we support you. And to all those who have wondered if America's beacon still burns as bright - tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity, and unyielding hope.

As Obama spoke, I thought of my family, those in Omaha and those who had opened their doors to me around the world. My thoughts wandered to a night in the Dominican Republic, only a few months before joining the campaign. With no modern-day distractions and under the most amazing display of stars, the family I lived with in the poor, rural village of Ocho offered prayers for my safety and health. They prayed over my hands, instructing me to use them to take care of others, and not for wealth or power. Listening to Obama, I believed the change coming to Washington would be felt in every home from Omaha to Ocho.

I learned on that election night that I, too, would be invited to come to Washington to be a part of the transition team, and later, a part of the new administration.

This is how I was included in Barack’s journey. But everyone has a different story, because everyone was included. From making a simple phone call to knocking on doors on a snowy day in Iowa, voters demanded this change. We built the operation. Voters turned it into a movement.

On Jan. 20, I blended in with the sea of supporters surrounding the Capitol from every state, religion and race. Together, we listened to our 44th president swear to uphold the Constitution on the same Bible used by Abraham Lincoln. On that same day, I walked into the White House to assume my new duties for the first time.
 
A good friend called to congratulate and reminded me of my new challenge. “I’m so happy that we have someone working in the White House who knows the struggles of our families in the Dominican Republic,” she said. Her comment summarized my hopes and fears. I’ve been so fortunate to be included in this incredible journey. We got here by following the respect, empower, include motto. But President Obama said it best on election night, “This victory alone is not the change we seek - it is only the chance for us to make that change.”
 
So this journalism major is ready to begin a new story, but this time, I think I’ll leave the writing to the historians. Let us pray that the history books tell a story about a president who respected the ideas of activists and veterans, Democrats and Republicans, Americans and Dominicans; a president who empowered ordinary citizens to do something extraordinary; a president who included you in the change he brought to Washington.