Email to a Political Candidate…
Given some of the many circumstances that have occurred during the past few weeks, it has become obvious that while I am able to provide you with the initially agreed-upon minimum of twenty hours of weekly labor, my schedule will not allow me to be what you are asking for at this time — someone available around the clock, someone able to put in between 40 and 60 hours per week, someone willing to sacrifice valuable time with family and friends during evening and weekends, a one-man campaign team.
Having done on my own a considerable amount of necessary research on political campaigns before I even agreed to come on board, during our initial meeting I told you that to be successful we would at least have to have the proper staff — a campaign manager, the role I was to fill; a volunteer coordinator, a role I was not willing to fill; a professional fund-raiser, an area in which I indicated that I had no experience; and administrative staff — in addition to a bank of volunteers. I also told you that despite our hiatus in acquaintance you had to trust me and my decisions implicitly. You agreed. Also, before you left on vacation you also agreed to my request that I do whatever I needed to do in your house to get the job done, as that is currently the official campaign headquarters.
Only two months have past since that first day. You were on vacation during the first two weeks, so I concentrated on basic business infrastructure — phone lines, basic networking (using personally donated supplies), computer installation and configuration (using personally loaned equipment), and working on numerous projects and problems with the only other campaign staffperson. The next three weeks, with you back from vacation, were spent understanding the machinations of your campaign, identifying the bottlenecks and barriers to producing a quality “product”, and planning and developing short-term solutions that would not interfere with long-term goals, including rolling out the overly simplistic campaign intranet. Moreover, a vast amount of time, energy, and resources went towards the first fundraising event in September during those three weeks and the ones to follow. I continued to raise alarm bells about staffing, even more so when I learned of the part-time staffperson’s imminent departure scheduled for early September. Since then I have been mired in administrative work (as I have mentioned to you on more than one occasion), trying to fulfill as many functions of the absent campaign staff that I could at the expense of duties related to campaign management. The campaign currently has a staff of one-half with no authority or means to acquire more. Your previous part-time staffperson could not alone fulfill all the administrative obligations that were required to be met on a weekly basis, and yet I am now expected to complete all of your administrative needs, all aspects of campaign management, and continued development of data management in only two-thirds of the time previously allotted to her. Obviously, that is not feasible. The situation can now be likened to a senior partner at a major law firm limited to conducting legal research and drafting documents — acceptable on an occasional basis when staffing is shorthanded, but an unwise use of time and resources, devastating to the practice when performed full-time on a semi-permanent or permanent basis. It is an ineffective use of my limited time to task me to go to the post office, act as receptionist, stuff envelopes, or run errands when more fundamental vital issues should be addressed.
Despite my urgent recommendations, you have not fired your useless political consultants and have not engaged a professional, experienced fund-raiser that specializes in raising political campaign contributions, filling the role instead with an inexperienced fund-raiser who is overly focused on arranging low-end, non-producing teas rather than the much-needed lucrative, large-scale events. Early on I told you that we needed two full-time paid administrators. Today we still have zero.
I have been met with resistance every step of the way. You have complained ad nauseam about the presence of unobtrusive network wires and the holes I had to put in your walls through which to feed the network cabling. You have continuously questioned the technology decisions I have had to make, despite having absolutely no background in or knowledge of any form of technology. You have complained about my irregular schedule, despite you knowing from day one that priority logically had to go to clients paying me at my regular three-digit hourly rates. Your frustration at not being to achieve your goals is understandable, yet please imagine my own frustration of being a nominally paid volunteer who has made considerable sacrifices to the campaign only to be treated with what can only be described as disrespect and unsubtle animosity, reserved apparently only for me and not at the deserving “consultants” who are being paid (or are promised to be paid) to produce absolutely nothing. The old saying is that familiarity breeds contempt, and I have to assume that it is our ancient history of acquaintance, combined with your own frustration and the fact that I am the only person left truly assisting you, that molds your unacceptable behavior.
At my gentle suggestion that you follow the path of your competitors and make a sizable contribution to your own campaign, you surprisingly retorted that you have made enough of a financial contribution to the campaign, that you have suffered income losses of approximately $4000 per month as a result of the campaign, and that you can afford no more. Well, I too have experienced losses between $4000 and $6000 per month during the last nine weeks in lost or postponed income due to my heavy involvement with the campaign, frequently working 30-, 40-, or even 50-hour weeks in a desperate attempt to complete as many time-sensitive tasks as possible without proper staffing — and, yet, I am expected to continue devoting more time to the campaign than I already am.
During the third week of my involvement with the campaign, we had agreed that — due to my unpredictable schedule — while many weeks I would be more heavily involved, other times I would not be able to be so, and that the lighter weeks would be more than made up by the heavier weeks. Prior to last week, every week I have worked more than 30 hours on the campaign. Monday last week, I told you that the following week needed to be a light week, that I did not have extended hours available. Unbelievably, you began demanding the number of hours I worked each day, stating that I had agreed to work a minimum of 20 hours per week and that working anything less was unacceptable. It was at that point, the point you reduced my status to merely that of a time clock punch card, that I became disillusioned and no longer willing to sacrifice my excess valuable time to the campaign. Twenty hours is what we agreed to, and twenty hours is what you will get, rarely more, the precise hours of which will be determined by my unpredictable schedule.
Given that, looking at the big picture of your current needs and your financial straits, my strong suggestion would be that we sever the current agreement (which you failed to timely execute anyway), you pay the attached invoices, and that you use the future-allocated money instead to hire two full-time, bonded admins from a local staffing firm. Never willing to leave anyone in the lurch, I can continue to offer my services in the capacity as data manager, volunteering (at no charge) four to eight hours per week to helping with the campaign’s data needs — double the time currently spent on the myriad vital data projects — with the requirement that I be treated with the same positive respect and dignity that the other volunteers are. No matter which route you choose, I will, of course, allow you the continued use of my personal equipment and I will complete the finishing touches on the network cable installation to minimize its presence in your home.
