“Hi,” I begin, my voice shaking a little. “I’m Katerina Manoff, your constituent from Rockville, and I’m calling to urge you to continue your support for Ukraine.”
I’m sitting in my car, speaking with a staffer in a Maryland Senator’s office, the Razom Advocacy website pulled up on my phone. This is very out of character for me - an avowedly apolitical person who shares the healthy distrust of government common to most Ukrainians. I’ve always been skeptical of government bureaucracy, of politicians’ integrity, and the potential for me, as one regular person, to make a real impact through advocacy.
I’ve passionately supported Ukraine’s struggle for freedom from russian influence since 2014, but in those early days, I never contacted my representatives. I much preferred grassroots, individual-level change: people helping people by focusing on what they can control. A meal for a soldier in rehabilitation at a nearby hospital; donations for humanitarian aid; a ride for a refugee family; reaching out to the press to connect reporters to important Ukrainian stories.
Even after russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, when it became clear that US government support was essential to Ukraine’s survival, I was hesitant to pick up the phone. I heard the appeal over and over - “Please, please take a minute and call your Congressmen” - but I almost always ignored it.
I’m not alone. According to one survey, less than half of Americans even know who represents them in Congress. Only a tiny minority regularly pick up the phone or write an email to share their opinions or requests.
Logically, this makes no sense. Contacting our elected representatives in Congress is literally the easiest thing we can do to support causes we care about. It takes two minutes and doesn’t cost a cent. And yet, we are much more likely to make donations, attend charity events, volunteer, or go to a rally - actions that require much more of our time and money.
Why? There are several mental blocks that prevent most of us from regularly calling our representatives. Here are the most common (and I admit that I’ve experienced them all).
- “I’m busy”
Between an intense job, raising two girls, housework, extended family, friends, exercise, and all those key building blocks of life, free time is hard to come by for me. That said, I can always find two minutes to check my email or scroll through the headlines or jump onto Facebook…so my reluctance to call Congress couldn’t honestly be chalked up to a lack of time. - “How much of a difference will one call make?”
Another thought I’d frequently have when some article or social media post exhorted me to contact my reps was - how much does this really matter? Unlike directly supporting someone in need or making a donation, where I could see my tangible impact, calling a senator or representative felt a little like shouting into the void. With so many people in my state or district, surely others’ calls would get the job done? And if others weren’t calling, well, my call wouldn’t move the needle much. - “My representatives already support Ukraine”
I’m lucky enough to have representatives who understand the situation in Ukraine and support continued US aid. For a long time, I felt that this absolved me of the responsibility of calling them. What’s the point? They’re busy - I’ll just waste their time asking them about something they’re already doing. - “It’s awkward and I don’t know what to say”
For those who haven’t called a member of Congress before (aka the vast majority of us), picking up the phone can be scary simply because we don’t know how these calls go. What do we say? What will they say? Won’t it be awkward? Add to this the fact that many of us, especially in younger generations, don’t like phone calls in general - even with people we know and love - and you’ve got a recipe for some serious inertia. For those of us who are not fully comfortable communicating in English, the language barrier adds another layer of worry. Will we find the right words? Will we be understood? - “I already called!”
When I finally got up the courage to call my Congressmen sometime in 2022, a new excuse popped up. Okay, I’ve done it. I’m a good citizen now. I have fulfilled my duty. My calls that day, I felt, absolved me of my responsibility. My representatives knew how I felt about the war in Ukraine and that was that.
What made me overcome the excuses? A trip to the offices of my representatives as part of a Ukrainian advocacy event.
My calls that day, I felt, absolved me of my responsibility. My representatives knew how I felt about the war in Ukraine and that was that.
One after another, these lines of thinking kept me from exercising my constitutional right to contact Congress. What finally pushed me to get over the excuses, pick up the phone, and keep calling was a visit to my representatives’ offices as part of a Ukrainian advocacy event.
Our delegation met with three foreign affairs staffers to talk about US support for Ukraine. These particular offices were already quite supportive of Ukraine’s fight for freedom. But all of them emphasized how hard it was to continue pushing for Congress to stay on Ukraine’s side when they were barely getting any calls on the subject from constituents.
The staffers explained that they counted calls, voicemails and emails every single week, categorizing them by topic and position. The popularity of each issue influenced the time and energy the representative or senator would put into supporting legislation on that topic. Since so few people contact their reps regularly, the numbers here were relatively small - hundreds or maybe thousands of touchpoints each week.
As I listened to the staffers, my excuses fell away like a stack of dominoes. Calls did matter, even for the most ardent supporters of Ukraine, and a relatively small number of calls really could move the needle. One call wasn’t enough, as the situation on the ground shifted, new legislative initiatives emerged, and the count of calls would start from zero every week. Oh, and my awkwardness around speaking to people on the phone? That didn’t matter. I could write an email or call after hours and leave a voicemail - it all counted.
These days, I’ve got a weekly reminder on my to-do list to contact my representatives. I call in the evenings after putting the kids to bed and leave a voicemail. I’ll mention updates about the situation in Ukraine from my colleagues and friends and share my thoughts on the recent measures the US government is considering taking (or dragging their feet on). If I’m not quite sure what to say, I’ll check Razom’s advocacy site, which lists key pieces of legislation to advocate for. Sometimes I keep it general, simply urging my representatives to make sure Ukraine remains a priority ahead of this unpredictable presidential transition.
I won’t lie - it’s still a little awkward. But it’s also incredibly empowering to know that I’m doing my part to help ensure the US keeps supporting Ukraine during a pivotal stage of the war. My only regret is that I waited so long to take advantage of this simple and impactful way to help my homeland: now, I’m doing my best to make up for lost time.
Author: Kateryna Manoff