For three weeks after spring semester, I worked on a congressional campaign in my district, for a candidate who not only held policy positions I agreed with, but exemplified what I thought a leader should be. In a competitive Democratic primary with five qualified candidates, including a local office-holder who was considered the favorite, we thought it possible for an outsider with a scrappy but thorough field operation to squeak out a win. I went into our office every day believing that every single interaction I had with a voter could be the determining factor. And yet, in the final few days before the election, the candidate I worked for was knocking doors when she talked to a construction worker who didn’t know if he’d be able to make it to the polls on election day because they opened after he had to go to work and closed before he got home. Those of us on her campaign lamented that he might represent a sizable chunk of people who may have been able to swing the election toward us had they been able to get to the polls.