在三个关键战场州，人们对总统选举的焦虑之墙已然形成
【中美创新时报2024 年 11 月 2 日编译讯】（记者温友平编译）几个月来，《波士顿环球报》记者前往密歇根州、宾夕法尼亚州和威斯康星州，与来自各个政治派别的人们交谈，了解今年选举年对他们来说最重要的事情。他们在竞选活动的最后几天回来与选民讨论他们如何决定投票。在这场非同寻常的竞选的所有曲折中，一个词——在几次不同的迭代中——一次又一次地出现：焦虑。《波士顿环球报》记者Jim Puzzanghera、Tal Kopan 和 Sam Brodey对此作了下述详细报道。
这三个州对民主党总统候选人的希望如此重要，以至于被称为“蓝墙”。
这堵墙在 2016 年为希拉里·克林顿而崩塌。它在 2020 年为乔·拜登而坚守。而现在，四年后，它的强度再次受到考验，因为卡马拉·哈里斯正在竞选总统，而唐纳德·特朗普试图推翻它，希望重返白宫。
几个月来，Globe 记者前往密歇根州、宾夕法尼亚州和威斯康星州，与来自各个政治派别的人们交谈，了解今年选举年对他们来说最重要的事情。他们在竞选活动的最后几天回来与选民讨论他们如何决定投票。
在这场非同寻常的竞选的所有曲折中，一个词——在几次不同的迭代中——一次又一次地出现：焦虑。
第 5 个问题让小费文化成为人们关注的焦点。但很少有人知道它的历史与奴隶制有关。
密歇根州
底特律郊区高档住宅区布卢姆菲尔德山的克兰布鲁克基督教堂是这个战场州和这个国家的缩影：其 2000 名圣公会会众平均分为共和党和民主党。随着激烈的总统竞选结束，这让威廉·J·达纳赫牧师的工作变得越来越复杂。
“我会让共和党人把我拉到一边对我说，‘如果卡马拉 [哈里斯] 获胜，我们所知道的国家就会灭亡’，”教堂的牧师达纳赫周四坐在办公室里说。 “我听到民主党人说，‘如果唐纳德 [特朗普] 获胜，我们就会有法西斯主义。那将是最后一次有意义的选举。’”
“两人都充满焦虑，”他说。“我的工作就是在恶劣天气面前保持超级冷静和镇定。”
在他的格子窗外，一阵强风吹起了落叶。几英里外，它吹弯了布卢姆菲尔德镇公共图书馆外的竞选标志，这是奥克兰县的提前投票地点之一。
布卢姆菲尔德山 18 岁的阿莱娜·哈立德刚刚投了第一张总统选票，正在停车场与她 46 岁的母亲纳迪亚·哈立德自拍。当被问及她是否感到焦虑、担心或有压力时，阿莱娜说：“以上都有。”
“你不知道未来会发生什么，也不知道世界会如何反应，”她说。“无论谁赢了，都会让一些人高兴，也会让一些人不高兴。”
作为一名穆斯林女性，韦恩州立大学生物学专业大一学生阿莱娜·哈立德 (Alena Khalid) 表示，她感到压力的部分原因是她对两位候选人都不满意。她和母亲都支持堕胎权，但也对拜登政府对加沙战争的处理感到不满。
阿莱娜·哈立德和她的母亲一样，决定投票给特朗普，因为特朗普说他不喜欢战争，她希望他能为结束战争做更多的事情。两位女性说，她的父亲非常纠结，他根本不投票。
48 岁的康福特·乌莫伦 (Comfort Umoren) 是布卢姆菲尔德山的一名执业护士，她没有内心冲突，很高兴在那里为哈里斯投票，以至于她戴了两张“我投票了”的贴纸——一张贴在她的黑色 T 恤上，另一张贴在她的黄色针织帽上。但她说，直到选举日之后，她才会松一口气，因为她担心如果特朗普输了会发生什么。
“我希望无论谁获胜——我更希望我的候选人获胜——过渡都能顺利进行。” “要平稳过渡，因为我来自非洲，”她说，“我来自尼日利亚，所以权力过渡是美国文明的标志。”
压力并没有波及到每个人。
“我们无能为力。我们只能顺其自然，”78 岁的詹姆斯·沃伊特 (James Wojt) 说，他来自底特律郊区沃伦。“我会关注正在发生的事情。我只是不会一遍又一遍地看 [新闻]。这会让你感到压力。”
但他的妻子乔治特·沃伊特 (Georgette Wojt) 结婚 51 年，她说她一直在密切关注这场竞选，并且“非常担心”如果他们都投票给特朗普的特朗普没有获胜会发生什么。
“这不仅仅是一场经济衰退，”她谈到她预见到的哈里斯获胜后会发生什么。“就我而言，那完全是世界末日。”
62 岁的德洛伊斯·杰克逊 (Delois Jackson) 来自弗林特，她找到了完美的方式分散对选举的焦虑——本周末和她教的排舞队一起去拉斯维加斯旅行。但作为哈里斯的支持者，她非常担心特朗普获胜后会发生什么。
“这很可怕，因为我个人认为特朗普很不稳定，”她说。“这几乎就像一颗定时炸弹，总有一天会爆炸。”
这些都是双方的焦虑，丹纳赫必须努力避免弥漫的恐惧情绪压倒并分裂他的会众。
“我们认为，因为政党和两极分化而肢解基督的身体是错误的，”他说。“我的目标是，我不需要让他们感觉更好，但我需要他们找到爱的方式。”
宾夕法尼亚州
选举日前一周，62 岁的马萨诸塞州贝弗利人安妮·巴顿 (Annie Barton) 坐在费城市中心的一家全食超市里，她的哈里斯-沃尔兹 (Harris-Walz) 迷彩帽放在她旁边的桌子上。
她在那里和两个当地朋友聊天，但这并不是一次观光之旅。这三人都身着竞选徽章，上午在当地一所社区大学进行选民教育，下午休息一下，再去北费城的一个社区为民主党拉票。
退休教育工作者巴顿表示，随着选举的临近，她一直感到紧张，她决定通过提前投票来缓解这种焦虑，离开民主党占多数的马萨诸塞州，试图在这个更摇摆不定的州鼓励选民。
“我觉得我必须保持乐观，否则，前景就太暗了，”巴顿说。“我需要积极主动，因为我不能坐在贝弗利的家里担心。这对我或任何其他人来说都没有任何好处。”
该地区的谈话主题也类似，宾夕法尼亚州的 19 张选举人票可能对两位候选人的总统之路都至关重要，民意调查显示，这场竞选势均力敌。
“这是因为赌注太高了，”67 岁的谢丽尔·库克 (Cheryl Cook) 坐在巴顿旁边，她是一名来自费城的退休律师。“这太可怕了。”
库克和他们的第三位同胞芭芭拉·斯皮茨 (Barbara Spitz) 68 岁，是来自费城的退休建筑师，他们已经为该党做了数周的志愿者，负责数据录入、分发时事通讯，最近还进行拉票。斯皮茨说，她每周都会向大约 140 人发送一封电子邮件，说明如何做志愿者，三人都表示，这次选举的参与程度远远超过了他们在 2008 年巴拉克·奥巴马第一次竞选期间所看到的程度。他们还试图通过订阅阳光明媚的民主党预言家西蒙·罗森伯格 (Simon Rosenberg) 的 Substack 来平息自己的紧张情绪，以获得一剂乐观的良药。
“我每小时都在‘卡玛拉会赢’和‘卡玛拉不会赢’之间犹豫不决，”斯皮茨说，这取决于她与谁交谈。
这种焦虑在全州各地以不同的方式表现出来。
34 岁的玛丽莎·阿莱西来自霍尼布鲁克，她在 TikTok 上发布的保守派内容拥有大量粉丝。她在费城郊区切斯特县排长队等待提前投票时，戴着“让美国再次伟大”的帽子。她说，她最关心的是选举的公正性，而不是结果，即使特朗普输了。
“你知道，如果 [哈里斯] 赢了，我不会离开这个国家，”阿莱西说。“我第二天就要回去工作，从现在起继续奋斗四年。”
对于一位尚未决定的选民来说，这关乎做出正确的选择。
来自费城的 DJ 西菲斯·霍金斯 (Syfiece Hawkins) 今年 30 岁，他说他真的很纠结。在过去的两次总统竞选中，他都投票给了民主党，但这次他考虑支持特朗普，尽管有些疑虑，霍金斯指出了特朗普的商业和领导能力。他说，他喜欢哈里斯的大部分言论，但他不确定自己是否能相信。毕竟，他说，哈里斯在过去四年里一直担任副总统，而他还没有看到拜登政府实施她提出的政策。还有她的性别问题。他犹豫不决，因为哈里斯是一名女性，“他们说男人天生就是领导者”。不过，他说，她的总统任期可能会具有历史意义，他相信奥巴马对她的支持。
“我不想做出错误的决定，”霍金斯在为选择而苦恼时说道。“我知道每一票都很重要。每一票都很重要。 … 我真的想在这里争取到好选票，但我不知道谁会支持我。”
威斯康星州
两个党派的办公室相隔一个街区，但它们可能位于不同的星球上。
在选举日前五天，走进罗克县共和党总部，就进入了一个对特朗普即将获胜充满信心的世界。
当办公室电视直播特朗普在新墨西哥州的集会时，一些志愿者惊叹于特朗普运动在那里以及威斯康星州南部这片地区的乐观能量，他们说特朗普的院子标志已经从货架上飞走了。 外面，一名志愿者的特朗普旗帜——贴在一辆皮卡上——在狂风中啪啪作响。
“我很乐观，”退役海军军人和共和党志愿者迈克·谢利告诉《波士顿环球报》。“我甚至不谨慎。”
与此同时，打开拐角处罗克县民主党办公室的大门，意味着受到一阵紧张的欢迎。志愿者们每天都聚集在办公室的大木桌旁，只是为了发泄他们对哈里斯获胜机会的希望和担忧。有些人每晚只睡两个小时。
在活动暂停期间，特蕾莎·卢德金正在用高乐氏湿巾擦拭桌子和柜台。她承认，这是有事可做。
“人们既焦虑又兴奋，”县党执行委员会成员卢德金说。“这并没有让人们感到僵硬。”
简斯维尔市中心的景象截然不同，简斯维尔是美国最紫的州之一的紫色县的县城，随着这场异常难以预测的竞选活动即将结束，简斯维尔市中心的景象反映了全国各地双方支持者的普遍情绪。
两党都在努力争取胜利。但一方普遍认为胜利是不可避免的，而另一方则认为胜利并非如此。
共和党人沉浸在特朗普本人的自信中——特朗普几个月来一直表示，他已经获得了赢得大选的选票——并指出民调平均值和人头攒动的集会，很难想象他会输。他们唯一的疑虑在于投票制度本身，以及他们认为导致特朗普在 2020 年大选失败的广泛选民欺诈，尽管没有可靠的证据表明发生了这样的事情。
与此同时，许多民主党人完全相信哈里斯是一位有能力的候选人。但由于 2016 年的创伤，他们已经对表现出对特朗普的信心变得过敏，特朗普的吸引力仍然让他们感到担忧和困惑。
随着位于麦迪逊市的威斯康星大学校园内一个繁忙的提前投票站关闭，英语专业的学生基根·墨菲表示，如果投票过程公平，特朗普将获胜，但他补充说，他“绝对感到焦虑”，因为他觉得投票系统并不比 2020 年更安全。
不过，墨菲说，“我确实认为差距太大，无法作弊。”
面对停滞不前的民调和关于选举结果可能走向的看似无穷无尽的相互矛盾的数据点，每个阵营的支持者都在更接近家乡的线索中寻找信心。
例如，墨菲说，他认识十几个在 2020 年投票给拜登的人，这次投票给了特朗普——但他不知道有哪个 2020 年的特朗普选民会投票给哈里斯。
民主党人也有自己令人鼓舞的轶事。莫莉·兰宁是威斯康星大学麦迪逊分校经济学专业的大三学生，她刚刚提前投票支持哈里斯。在家乡密尔沃基地区，兰宁的母亲也选择了哈里斯。兰宁说，她的母亲一生都是“支持生命”的保守派，她一生中从未投票给民主党。
尽管双方情绪各异，双方都在这场竞选中投入了近乎生死攸关的赌注，但不同派别的厌倦选举的威斯康星州人之间或许有一个令人惊讶的共同点：生活将继续。
周四在简斯维尔市政厅提前投票的斯科特和迪安·舒特体现了信心差距：他投票给了特朗普，她投票给了哈里斯。
“我很有信心，”斯科特·舒特说。迪安·舒特表达了焦虑，但打趣道，“我对很多事情都感到焦虑。不管怎样，该发生的事就是该发生的事。”
两人都笑了起来，去吃午饭。
题图：10 月 28 日，在费城天普大学举行的支持副总统卡马拉·哈里斯的竞选集会上，观众们聆听着演讲。Win McNamee/Getty
附原英文报道：
In three key battleground states, a blue wall of anxiety about the presidential election
By Jim Puzzanghera, Tal Kopan and Sam Brodey Globe Staff,Updated November 2, 2024
Members of the audience listened during a campaign rally in support of Vice President Kamala Harris at Temple University in Philadelphia on Oct. 28.Win McNamee/Getty
They’re three states so important to Democratic presidential hopes that they’re known as the “blue wall.”
That wall crumbled for Hillary Clinton in 2016. It held fast for Joe Biden in 2020. And now, four years later, its strength is again being tested, as Kamala Harris seeks the presidency and Donald Trump tries to topple it in hopes of returning to the White House.
For months, Globe reporters have traveled to Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin, speaking to people from across the political spectrum about what matters most to them in this election year. They returned in the campaign’s final days to talk with voters about how they are deciding to cast their ballots.
And throughout all the twists and turns of an extraordinary race, one word — in several different iterations — emerged again and again: anxiety.
Question 5 has put tipping culture in the spotlight. But few know its history is linked to slavery.
Michigan
Christ Church Cranbrook in Bloomfield Hills, an upscale Detroit suburb, is a microcosm of this battleground state and the country: Its 2000-member Episcopal congregation is split evenly between Republicans and Democrats. That’s made Rev. William J. Danaher’s job increasingly complicated as a bitter presidential race comes to an end.
“I’ll have Republicans pull me aside and say to me, ‘If Kamala [Harris] wins, the country as we know it will end’,” Danaher, the church’s rector, said as he sat in his office Thursday. “And I’ve had Democrats who say, ‘If Donald [Trump] wins, we will have fascism. That will be the last meaningful election that happens.’ “
“Both are full of anxiety,” he said. “My job is to just be super chill and calm in the face of heavy weather.”
Outside his latticed windows, a stiff wind whipped up the fallen leaves. And a couple of miles away, it bent the sea of campaign signs outside the Bloomfield Township Public Library, one of Oakland County’s early voting locations.
Alena Khalid, 18, of Bloomfield Hills, had just cast her first presidential ballot and was taking a selfie with her mother, Nadia Khalid, 46, in the parking lot. Asked if she was anxious or worried or stressed, Alena said, “All of the above.”
“You don’t know what the future will hold and how the world will react,” she said. “Whoever wins will make some people happy and some people unhappy.”
As a Muslim woman, Alena Khalid, who is a freshman biology major at Wayne State University, said part of her stress was that she’s not happy with either candidate. She and her mother both believe in abortion rights but also are upset with the Biden administration’s handling of the war in Gaza.
Alena Khalid decided to vote for Trump, as did her mother, because he says he doesn’t like war and she hopes he’ll do more to end the fighting. Her father is so torn he’s not voting at all, the women said.
Comfort Umoren, 48, a nurse practitioner from Bloomfield Hills, had no internal conflict and was so happy to have cast her ballot for Harris there that she wore two “I Voted” stickers — one on her black T-shirt and the other on her yellow knit cap. But she said there would be no relief for her until well after Election Day because she’s worried what will happen if Trump loses.
“I hope whoever wins — I prefer my candidate to win — that the transition is going to be smooth, because I’m from Africa,” she said. “I’m from Nigeria, so transition of power is the hallmark of American civilization.”
The stress hasn’t hit everybody.
“There’s nothing we can do. We just have to go with the flow,” said James Wojt, 78, of Warren, another Detroit suburb. “I pay attention to what’s going on. I just don’t watch [the news] over and over and over. That’s what stresses you out.”
But his wife of 51 years, Georgette Wojt, said she’s been following the race much more closely and is “very worried” about what will happen if Trump, whom they both voted for, doesn’t win.
“It’s not just a recession,” she said of what she foresees if Harris wins. “That’s totally the end of the world as far as I’m concerned.”
Delois Jackson, 62, of Flint, has found the perfect distraction from her election anxiety — a trip this weekend to Las Vegas with the line dancing team she teaches. But, as a Harris supporter, she’s extremely nervous about what will happen if Trump wins.
“It’s scary because I personally think Trump is unstable,” she said. “It’s almost like a time bomb that’s going to go off at some point.”
Those are the types of anxieties on both sides that Danaher has to grapple with as he tries to keep pervasive feelings of dread from overwhelming and fracturing his congregation.
“We believe it’s wrong to dismember the body of Christ over political parties and polarization,” he said. “My goal is, I don’t need them to feel better, but I need them to find their way to love.”
Pennsylvania
A week before Election Day, Annie Barton, 62, of Beverly, Mass., was sitting in a downtown Philadelphia Whole Foods, her camouflage Harris-Walz hat on the table next to her.
She was there chatting with two local friends, but it wasn’t a sight-seeing visit. The trio, bedecked in campaign buttons, had spent the morning at a local community college doing voter education and were taking a break before going back out in the afternoon to canvass for the Democrats in a neighborhood in North Philadelphia.
Barton, a retired educator, said she’d been feeling nervous with the election fast approaching and decided to channel that anxiety by leaving reliably blue Massachusetts after she voted early to try to encourage voters in a swingier state.
“I feel like I have to be optimistic, otherwise, it’s just too dark,” Barton said. “I need to be proactive, because I can’t sit at home in Beverly worrying. It’s not doing me, or anyone else, any good.”
It was a similar theme in conversations across the area, with Pennsylvania’s 19 electoral votes likely crucial to either candidate’s path to the presidency and polls showing the race in a dead heat.
“It’s because the stakes are so high,” said Cheryl Cook, 67, a mostly retired lawyer from Philadelphia as she sat next to Barton. “It is terrifying.”
Cook and their third compatriot, Barbara Spitz, 68, a retired architect from Philadelphia, had been volunteering with the party for weeks, doing data entry, distributing newsletters, and, recently, canvassing. Spitz said she sends out a weekly email to her extended circle of roughly 140 people spelling out ways to volunteer, and all three said the level of engagement in this election far exceeds what they witnessed even during the first Barack Obama run in 2008. They also try to calm their nerves by subscribing to sunny Democratic prognosticator Simon Rosenberg’s Substack for a dose of optimism.
“I vacillate every hour between, ‘Kamala’s going to win,’ and ‘Kamala’s not going to win,’” Spitz said, saying it depends who she has been talking to.
The anxiety was manifesting in different ways across the state.
Marissa Alesi, 34 of Honey Brook, who has a large following for her conservative content on TikTok, was wearing her Make America Great Again hat as she waited in a long line to vote early in Chester County, a suburb of Philadelphia. She said her concern was mostly about the integrity of the election and less about the results, even if Trump loses.
“I’m not going to, you know, leave the country if [Harris] wins,” Alesi said. “I’m going to go back to work the next day and keep fighting for four years from now.”
For one undecided voter, it was about making the right choice.
Syfiece Hawkins, 30, a DJ from Philadelphia, said he was truly torn. He voted Democratic in the past two presidential races but was considering Trump this time despite some qualms, pointing to what Hawkins described as Trump’s business and leadership skills. He said he likes most of what he’s heard from Harris, but he’s not sure he can believe it. After all, he said, she’s been vice president the last four years and he hasn’t seen the Biden administration enact her proposed policies. There’s also the matter of her gender. He hesitates because Harris is a woman and “they say that men are made to lead.” Then again, he said, her presidency could be historic and he trusts endorsements of her like the one from Obama.
“I don’t want to make a bad decision,” Hawkins said as he agonized over the choices. “I know every vote counts. Every vote counts. … I’m really trying to get a good vote here, but I just don’t know who.”
Wisconsin
The two party offices are a block apart, but they might as well be on different planets.
To step inside the Rock County Republican Party headquarters, five days before Election Day, is to enter a world of serene confidence in Trump’s imminent victory.
As the office TV showed live a feed of a Trump rally in New Mexico, a handful of volunteers marveled at the upbeat energy of the Trump movement both there and locally in this swath of southern Wisconsin, where they said Trump yard signs have been flying off the shelves. Outside, a volunteer’s Trump flags — affixed on a pickup — snapped in the harsh wind.
“I’m optimistic-optimistic,” Mike Sherley, a retired Naval serviceman and GOP volunteer, told the Globe. “I’m not even cautious.”
Opening the door of the Rock County Democratic Party offices around the corner, meanwhile, means being welcomed with a hum of nervous energy. Volunteers have been assembling at the office’s large wooden table every day just to vent their hopes and worries over Harris’s chances. Some are sleeping as little as two hours a night.
During a lull in activity, Theresa Ludeking was wiping down tables and counters with Clorox wipes. It was, she acknowledged, something to do.
“There’s anxiety and excitement,” said Ludeking, a member of the county party’s executive board. “It’s not making people frozen.”
The diverging scenes in downtown Janesville, the seat of a purple county in one of the nation’s purplest states, distills the prevailing mood of each side’s supporters around the country as this singularly unpredictable campaign hurtles to a close.
Both parties are working hard to win. But one generally believes victory is inevitable and the other feels it is anything but.
Bathed in the confidence of Trump himself — who has said for months that he already has the votes to win the election — and pointing to poll averages and packed rallies, Republicans have a difficult time imagining him losing. Their only doubts are in the voting system itself, and the widespread voter fraud which they believe caused Trump’s defeat in 2020 despite no credible evidence that any such thing happened.
Many Democrats, meanwhile, have total faith in Harris as a capable candidate. But scarred by the trauma of 2016, they’ve grown allergic to projecting confidence against Trump, whose appeal remains concerning and perplexing to them.
As a busy early voting site closed on the campus of the University of Wisconsin, in deep-blue Madison, English major Keegan Murphy said that if the process is fair, Trump will win, but added he’s “definitely anxious” because he feels the voting system is not more secure than it was in 2020.
Still, Murphy said, “I do think the margin will be too big to cheat.”
In the face of stagnant polling and a seemingly endless array of conflicting data points about which way the election might turn, supporters in each camp are finding confidence in clues closer to home.
Murphy, for instance, says he knows a dozen people who voted for Biden in 2020 who are voting for Trump this time — and doesn’t know any Trump 2020 voters who are casting a ballot for Harris.
Democrats have their own encouraging anecdotes. Molly Lanning, a junior at UW-Madison studying economics, had just voted early for Harris. Back in her hometown in the Milwaukee area, Lanning’s mother — a lifelong “pro-life” conservative who Lanning said has never voted blue in her life, also chose Harris.
Despite each side’s diverging moods, and the near existential stakes both are investing in this contest, there was perhaps a surprising through-line among election-weary Wisconsinites of different stripes: Life will go on.
Scott and Deanne Schuett, who voted early at Janesville City Hall on Thursday, embody the confidence gap: He voted for Trump and she for Harris.
“I’m confident,” said Scott Schuett. Deanne Schuett expressed anxiety, but quipped, “I have anxiety about a lot of things. Either way, what happens is going to be what happens.”
Both laughed and made their way to lunch.
