Campaign update · Yan Yean
Hello. First one of these, so let me start properly. I'm Gufran, I'm the Greens candidate for Yan Yean, and I'm really glad you're here.
One of these lands every Tuesday until the 28th of November. Short, no lecture, and one small thing at the end if you feel like it.
Dad of three under six, so I'm tired in a way I'm told lasts about a decade. My wife is a primary school teacher, which means we're outnumbered at home and outnumbered at work.
I cook, for far too many people at once. I run community cooking classes called Spice and Soul, because I wanted neighbours around here to actually meet each other, and the fastest way I know is to put food in front of people.
I used to live in Doreen, so I know the roundabouts. I worked in schools as a business manager, and that's where I learned what a rigged system looks like. I spent a long time trying to get funding for kids with a disability who plainly needed it, and I made a nuisance of myself about it. I lost that job in March.
I'm not a politician. You'll work that out in about four seconds.
Almost none of it was me.
Letters out across the electorate. Signs up on people's own front fences. Stalls at Whittlesea and Laurimar. A community lunch that fed a room full of people who'd never met. Someone took over the socials so I'm not writing captions at midnight. Someone else has been letterboxing streets nobody asked them to do.
Eight of us in the core crew, about eight more pitching in. All of them have jobs or kids or both, and all of them picked this over a couch.
So, thank you. If you've done any of that, this paragraph is yours.
A polling model published a couple of weeks ago named Yan Yean the closest seat in the state. Three parties with a real shot at it, and not one of them is us. The Greens sit at a fraction of a per cent, which is a specific sort of number to read about yourself over breakfast.
Here's why I'm not worried.
That model is measuring the old argument. This seat has been a two-horse race for as long as anyone can remember, and now it isn't, and nobody actually knows what happens next. When the ground moves that much, "safe" stops meaning anything, and a seat can go somewhere nobody predicted.
When a conversation runs twenty minutes or more, people shift. Not everyone. But far more than you'd expect, and including people who opened the door telling us they vote well to the right of us. Twenty minutes, no arguing, just listening to what's actually gone wrong in their street.
It isn't a trick. It's that nobody's asked them in years.
We can teach you to do that, and it takes about half an hour to learn. You'll be better at it than me by the third door. We're doing exactly that on Sunday.
So: a fraction of a per cent, and the biggest opportunity this movement has had in this part of the world. Both of those are true at once, and only one of them is up to us.
Saturday the 17th and Sunday the 18th. Come for an hour, come for the lot, or come for the food and leave before anyone asks you to do anything. That's allowed and I won't judge you.
Doorknocking in pairs, then tea or a beer at the Brookwood in Mernda for whoever's still standing. Never knocked on a door? Neither had I in March.
BBQ, far too much food, no speeches. We'll run the conversation training, and in the afternoon we're filming content, a fair bit of it deliberately ridiculous. If you can act, hold a camera straight, or make a goose of yourself on command, this is your weekend.
I've committed to knocking on doors every day between now and the election. All forty-six. If you see a bloke in a green shirt walking up your driveway looking too pleased about it, that's me. Pray for my knees.
Whatever you've got, and none of it compulsory.
Every job is on the website with what it involves and how long it takes. Letterboxing, a market stall, a booth shift, holding a camera, a sign on your fence.
Money. The Greens don't take a cent from big corporations, which is a fine principle and also means the leaflets get paid for by people like you.
Or just a chat. Ring me and tell me I've got something wrong. I answer my own phone, so give it a minute if I'm at the school gate. 0411 275 577
Next week I'll start introducing you to the crew, because they're more interesting than I am.
See you Saturday, maybe.