(CAMARILLO, Calif.) — At 7:34 p.m. Thursday evening at the Ventura County Democratic Party headquarters, Francesca Adams announced that volunteers had placed a staggering 3,384 calls in six hours on behalf of Democratic candidates running for office in Ventura County.

The volunteers clapped and hooted as they sat in front of their calling screens with half-eaten plates of homemade pasta salad beside them.

Adams, organizing director for the Ventura County Democratic Party, said the calls would likely make a difference in keeping the county blue as Election Day nears.

For the previous six hours, volunteers had called as many voters as they could, mostly undecided voters in a decidedly-blue California county.

The walls were covered with political memorabilia and life-sized cardboard cutouts of candidates, including yard signs, “F*ck Project 2025” posters, and art featuring female reproductive organs plastered on buttons. The office was bustling with chattering phone calls and ringing table bells — signifying a caller’s pledge to vote blue.

This was my first phone bank. An avid Democrat who voted for the first time in 2020, I wanted to see what happens at a phone bank as a reporter for The Click, NYU’s student news site. The goal was clear: to inform, energize, and mobilize people to participate in the upcoming election.

The director guided volunteers around a long row of folding tables stretched across the room, each one covered with stacks of lists — names, phone numbers, and notes — placed in messy piles. Volunteers sat in front of old laptops donning loose plastic headsets.

Some worked silently, eyes scanning their lists, while others were deep in conversation — their voices warm and friendly, trying to make a personal connection.

There was a palpable sense of competition: volunteers would glance at each other, eager to see who could make the most calls or connect with the most supporters in a given time.

“Hi [insert caller’s name]. This is Valeria Garcia and I am with the Ventura County Democrats calling to remind you about the upcoming election. Can we count on you to vote for Kamala Harris for President and Connie Gutierrez for Thousand Oaks City Council?” I inquired.

“You’re calling the wrong person,” a male voice laughed.

My heart dropped.

But the Thousand Oaks native on the other end of the call explained that he was a keen supporter of Vice President Harris and backed candidate Gutierrez to elevate the local council.

By 5 p.m, with all volunteers working the phones, a cacophony of voices filled the air with those on the other end saying they were “still deciding which candidate will stand up for freedom” and others claiming to be “so grateful” to receive the organization’s call.

“Stop speaking so fast, slow down,” another voice cried over the phone.

Language barriers presented a thorny issue. As a fluent Spanish speaker, I was repeatedly asked between calls to quickly assist Spanish-speaking voters — translating candidate information on the fly.

“I love the energy in the room,” said elementary school educator Colleen Briner-Schmidt, proudly wearing a “Harris-Walz” pin. “As we had more and more people calling, we got more votes. These are candidates I care about. I’ve given as much money as I can give. What I have is time, and I believe that the time is more important at this point.”

Though only a handful of voters admitted they were casting their ballot for Trump, the energy remained steady throughout the evening.

“Aw. That’s too bad,” one phone banker responded sarcastically.

At 6:08 p.m. Gutierrez, the only female candidate running for Thousand Oaks City Council, made a surprise appearance. The room erupted in cheers as volunteers joyfully greeted the Democrat.

Gutierrez delivered an impromptu pep talk to the volunteers. “I love knocking on Republican doors,” she proclaimed. “I only knock on Republican and non-party preference doors,” she said adding, “I’m on a persuasive campaign right now. I’m flipping houses, it’s a beautiful exchange.”

The City Council hopeful is running against Republican Kevin McNamee, Republican Brent Allen Hagel, and Libertarian Daniel Emerson Twedt.

Satisfied with their successful string of calls for the evening, the determined Democrats packed their bags and shuffled loose leaves of paper together as people trickled out one by one. I followed suit behind the others, my voice equally worn out from a long day of calling — wondering if the calls moved any voters to the D column.