Josh Montagne raps three quick knocks on the door of your typical ranch-style two-story American home. A woman on the other side opens it after a brief scuffle and a few barks.
He introduces himself: a canvasser for Democratic state house candidate Thomas Horrocks, and asks if she has a plan to vote. She tells Montagne she won’t be voting this year.
“I always voted Republican, but I just can’t stand Trump,” she says.
“I completely understand,” Montagne replies. “But I need to tell you that Thomas Horrocks, he’s a pastor and a veteran and he believes in working across the aisle.”
He continues listing points from his script. She’s not buying it. He catches on and leaves literature for her.
He argues afterward that if she detests the Republican Party of Trump, she should do something about it. Send the party a message. The same idea extends to IU students, who, like college students nationwide, have much lower turnout than most voters, though that number is rising.
He’s seen all sorts of reasons why people don’t vote. It’s ranged from not feeling represented by the candidates to apathy to simply being too busy, especially students who work jobs on top of school. It’s usually apathy.
Montagne, 20, has to press on. Hers was just one door out of hundreds he’ll knock on in a typical week.
***
Josh Montagne wants to be president. His idea is to run in 2040, right after he passes the age requirement. After then would be all good, too.
That said, he hasn’t nailed down much policy at this point, nor plans for his first 100 days in office that the media will swarm him about. He doesn’t like reading theory for his political science major. Where does that leave him?
Door-to-door campaigning for those running for local office. He interns with congressional candidate Tim Peck and is omnipresent at the Monroe County Democrats’ headquarters. Hours upon hours of knocking doors, messaging into video doorbells, talking to people and chatting with older folks who tend to linger.
Montagne is now a sophomore at IU. From the suburbs of St. Louis, he’s now registered and completely committed to Indiana politics.
When he was younger, he would make political ads against himself.
“Josh Montagne didn’t take out his trash. Bad for his family. Bad for Missouri.”
The genius of the ads was that his parents would find them adorable and forgive whatever transgression he committed. He held his first leadership position in Boy Scouts, where he said he probably held a high approval rating.
***
He recognizes his hope to jettison from state positions to national ones, and eventually president, is a long shot. His first Indiana campaign he volunteered in was last year, where he helped get Sydney Zulich elected to Bloomington’s city council.
This campaign, he’s a workhorse. He times the seconds after he knocks to gauge whether a person will answer. He sticks the pamphlets in after seven.
Getting closer to the election, Montagne’s mostly focused on getting out the vote and making sure people have a plan. Most people either aren’t home or don’t answer the door. In those cases, he leaves leaflets. Video doorbells are fun for him: He gets to do his pre-ordained speech without bothering people going about their day.
As Election Day approaches, Montagne is focused on more Democratic-leaning precincts, pushing up turnout in a race that will be decided by it. He’s been campaigning for Thomas Horrocks in the Indiana House of Representatives in a district Democrats lost in 2022 by 74 votes. The ultimate goal is to topple one domino against the Republican state house supermajority, held by four seats.
***
It’s a rainy Sunday as Hurricane Helene’s remnants hover over Kentucky and turn the rolling forests of South-Central Indiana into rainforest. Montagne’s out canvassing in a T-shirt and training a new volunteer.
Montagne and the trainee are hitting the first few doors together then plan to split off. Their training is in luck today, four people in a row answer their doors.
This time, they’re in a much bluer area of Bloomington: single-family homes in rapprochement with ivy and general plant life. The first three tell the duo that they indeed do have plans to vote.
“I’m definitely not voting for Republicans,” one woman says.
The two knock on the fourth. A middle-aged woman cracks the door open. Montagne lets the trainee go into the spiel about Thomas Horrocks, a family man, a pastor, a veteran, a man who wants to work across the aisle…
“I’m ashamed to say,” she interrupts. “Is he a Republican or a Democrat?”
They answer, she smiles and she soon after shuts the door.
