Keeping Secrets

Can white women keep a secret? And could that secret save our country?

In 2018, I ran for Iowa Senate and in the process, between April and November of that year I knocked over 7,000 doors. Still to this day, six years later, there are neighborhoods in Ankeny that I drive past and remember the doors I knocked in that area and many of the conversations I had with voters.

My first foray at knocking doors was in the 2016 election. I was a volunteer with Moms Demand Action and our job that cycle was to help out several vulnerable Democrats who had been endorsed by our organization in an effort to try to keep the Iowa Senate majority. I traveled to Council Bluffs, Waterloo, and State Center to talk to voters and in the meantime I knocked doors in Ankeny, Des Moines, Bondurant and Polk City for the Hillary Clinton campaign.

In Council Bluffs with venerable Democratic volunteers Carl and Brenda Schumann, who had trekked over to Pott county with me for the cause, Senator Mike Gronstal asked me how my door knocking shift went and when I replied, “Great! I love knocking doors,” he responded, “Well then you should run for office because a big part of what we do is getting out and talking to voters!” (Thanks, Mike, for planting that seed.)

One thing I always found interesting when knocking doors was how people answered when you showed up at their home unannounced. People have lots of different feelings about strangers at the door but in Iowa, most folks are polite and cordial, even if they don’t really want to talk to you. But you’d be surprised at how much you can learn about a person in just a few minutes’ interaction at their door. The first one being… everyone has a pet and boy do we love those little darlings! I loved getting sniffed and nuzzled by a big goofy chocolate Lab or being “assaulted” by a three pound fluff ball with all the bravado of Rambo. Pet parents are hilarious too. So many of y’all answer the door covered in fur and I love it. Give those kitties and pups all the snuggles for me!

It’s always fascinating to see what activities people get up to on a Saturday afternoon, too. Lots of old cars being worked on, garages being cleaned out, mowing, cleaning, and watching sports are among the top activities. And cooking. Folks are always cooking something. One of my favorite stories is the steaks that were cooking on the grill right by the front door of a house on my list. I went up and rang the doorbell but the folks inside didn’t answer. I don’t know if they were hiding from me or if they couldn’t hear the bell but I knew for sure somebody was home! I thought about waiting them out to see how long they’d leave those steaks cooking before they finally stepped outside but instead, I left my literature by the cold bottle of beer on the table next to the grill and kept moving. Hope those steaks tasted good!

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This year there has been a lot of discussion about secret Democratic voters — particularly women — who might be in politically mixed marriages or who may identify as Republicans or conservative but who are planning to vote for Democrats this year.

Many question if these women will really break for Kamala. Some are appalled that there are married women who “aren’t allowed” to vote their conscience. Still others say these women are highly movtivated by the overturning of Roe v. Wade. Others question if this demographic of voters even exists.

In my experience, they do exist. They are highly motivated by abortion as an issue and my gut says they are ready to break hard for Madam President.

In 2018, the Iowa Legislature took their first run at a 6 week abortion ban and while it did not pass that year, even the threat of such a dangerous law was highly motivating to the suburban women in my senate district. But here’s the thing: a startling number of the women I spoke to had to step out on the front porch and close the door behind themselves to talk with me. They told me, “my husband doesn’t know I am voting for you.” This was by no means the majority of women I spoke to but the occurence was not unusual, either.

On more than one occasion, I would have a woman’s name on my list but a man might answer the door and I’d be told there were “no Democrats in this house” or “she can’t talk to you.” At one home in Des Moines, a man answered the door and when he found out I was a volunteer for Hillary, threatened to “beat [my] ass and kick [me] to the curb.” It was the only door I ever ran away from. As someone who lived in a home with domestic violence, these chilling interatctions always set off my spidey senses and gave me a pit in my stomach. I can still remember some of them as clear as day and if I find myself driving by one of the houses where those interactions took place, I always think about the woman living there and send her strength.

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Corrie ten Boom was a woman who answered many unknown knocks on her door, too. Prior to and during World War 2, Corrie, her sister Betsie and their elderly father Casper converted their home into a hiding place for Jewish people, joining the Dutch Resistance movement and eventually being sent to Ravensbruck concentration camp.

Her memoir The Hiding Place, published in 1971, is the story of the incredible risks the ten Boom family took to protect targeted people. In 1975, a movie was adapted from her story and for those of us who grew up in the church in the 1980’s and 1990’s, Corrie’s story and her example were foundational to our concepts of what it meant to be a Christian. For young women especially, Corrie exemplified what it meant to “lay down your life for your friends” and she was held up as an icon of womanly Christian virtue.

Is it any wonder then, that so many Gen X and elder Millennial women are on the forefront of the Deconstruction and #ChurchToo movements? We were given the example of a literal Nazi-fighter to emulate.

Tante (Aunt) Corrie as she was known to those who worked closely with her knew when to keep a secret to protect herself, her family, and those she’d hidden in her care. She also knew when to speak boldly, to take risks and to be decisive.

I believe that spirit exists in many of the women who plan to cross ideological and political lines to take a brave vote this year. For some, marking Kamala Harris’s name on a ballot in the privacy of a voting booth may be the bravest and most subversive thing they’ve ever done in their lives. For others, signing up to knock doors, make a donation or even have a conversation with a friend will be the risk they choose to take. Courage comes in many forms and varying amounts, especially in oppressive systems designed to rob women of their agency and autonomy.

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If we were ever living in a moment in our nation that echoed the time of Tante Corrie, it’s now. A person with an honest heart can see many reflections of a creeping fascism, the kind that began to overtake Europe almost exactly 100 years ago.

Political rhetoric from the Trump campaign and Trump himself has become increasingly hostile, vulgar, bizarre and frighteningly racist, likely in a last-ditch attempt to rile up an already dangerously unstable base of supporters toward election-related violence. Running out of options to win the election outright, Trump hopes to play on the fears and racism of Americans to incite them into helping him retake the reins of power by any means necessary.

Women could be the bulwark against an authoritarian takeover of this great nation. Whether it is anger and disgust over the Dobbs decision, rejection of the Trump campaign’s vile misogynist rhetoric, or a fear for their children’s future, women — white suburban women especially — have the ability to shift the trajectory away from a bleak and destructive path. Like Tante Corrie, they can take subversive, secret steps to protect the most vulnerable among us: children, the elderly, pregnant women, the disabled, racial and religious minorities, and our LGBTQ siblings.

For now, stopping fascism is something that takes five minutes and can be done in the privacy of a home or a voting booth. But if we get this wrong, stopping evil will require more of us. Bigger risks, bigger secrets, bigger danger.

So if this resonates with you, don’t be ashamed of your secret. If keeping your vote private is what keeps you safe, do it. And if a secret vote for Kamala is what it takes to keep those you love safe, don’t wait. Do it today.

This election may well come down to the ability of women — white suburban women — to keep a secret — a secret vote today that can prevent a secret room tomorrow.

©2024, Amber Gustafson

Amber Gustafson is a mom of three from Ankeny, Iowa. She grew up on a farm in the southwest corner of the state and has a B.A. from Iowa State University and a MAC from Drake University. She is a member of Kappa Tau Alpha Journalism Honor Society, Public Relations Society of America (PRSA) and Association of Fundraising Professionals (AFP). For more than a decade she has been a public advocate for the lives, health and safety of Iowans, running for Iowa Senate in 2018. You can read more of her work at Bleeding Heartland and The Des Moines Register and read more about her in The Washington Post. For interview and speaking requests, please email ambergus.iowa(at)gmail.com.