By Tom Blodgett
Mail |
X: @sp_blodgett

It is not like Jenny Poon was not busy enough already. 

Poon, a Phoenix resident, is a whirling dervish of activity: president of CO+HOOTS, the first entrepreneurial co-working space in Phoenix; CEO of HUUB, a platform that marshals city resources — it works with Phoenix, Gilbert, Mesa and Goodyear — and technical training for use by entrepreneurs and small businesses; founder of the CO+HOOTS Foundation, providing programs and scholarships for underrepresented youth in entrepreneurship; board member for four different organizations; member of the National Women’s Business Council; and vice chair of the Asian Chamber of Commerce. 

Throw in wife and mother to two, and the schedule is packed. 

But one phone call from the Kamala Harris campaign last week threw a wrench into all that and resulted in about the craziest 48 hours in Poon’s and her family’s life. 

The apex had Poon speaking before an estimated 75,000 people Oct. 29 at the Ellipse in Washington D.C. with her husband, Odeen Domingo, and two children, Ayda and Okin, at her side as a warmup act for Harris’ “closing argument” speech. 

“We were all nervous,” she said. “I remember she was holding onto me when I was speaking, and my legs were shaking. I could feel her kind of shaking a little bit. And so I did the speech and was just trying really hard not to fall and not to make a fool of myself. Like, ‘This is so many people watching me right now.’” 

Poon and Domingo had no idea this was coming before Monday morning. But its roots go back to 2020. 

Poon and Domingo attended a then-vice presidential candidate Harris rally in Arizona before the 2020 election with daughter Ayda, then 6 years old. Poon recalled Ayda as being “kinda the only kid at the rally.” 

As Harris finished, singer Alicia Keyes came on to say some words.  

“As they were leaving, Kamala walked just past us, and I turned around, and (Harris) made a beeline back to have a conversation with Ayda,” she said. 

It was an unreal brush with fame for the family. It certainly made an impression on Ayda. 

“Anytime she sees her on TV, she’s like, ‘There’s Auntie Kamala,’” Poon said. “And in Asian culture, anyone who is older than you is your aunt.” 

Ayda kept track of Harris thereafter. A few months later, she did report for school on Harris as the first female vice president and how “cool” it was that she was half Black and, like her, half Asian. 

In 2020, Ayda had a lot of questions around the pandemic — why they had to wear masks, why friends cannot come over for dinner. In 2024, she still has questions, but they are on the campaign. 

“She's been watching the debate,” Poon said. “She's been asking the questions around why is this so hard for us to elect her compared to this guy that is a criminal? But it's a great question. And so it's really interesting seeing it through her eyes and how it's such a no-brainer for her. And yet this nation is so divided and apparently this race is so close.” 

A little more than a year after the rally, a video team asked if they would do a short commercial for Biden. They were willing, but Poon gave birth to Okin, eliminating that opportunity. A year later, the crew approached them again, and they did a short commercial. 

Then came the rally. From the couple’s understanding, the video crew threw their name out when the campaign was trying to find someone who could speak at the rally on families, the economy and small business. 

That led to the video team sending a late-night email to Poon connecting them to the campaign about the rally. She was asleep when it was sent and did not see it until about 5 the next morning. 

Not knowing what it was about, she texted an offer to help in any way.  

“I was like surely they’re not going to ask us to fly to DC,” her husband, Domingo, said. “It’s tomorrow. We were on a plane at 2 p.m. that day.” 

The campaign called about 7 a.m. and said having the family come to the rally with Poon speaking was exactly what they had in mind. Ayda had already been dropped off at school, and Poon figured it was a six-hour flight if there were no layovers. 

“If I do the timeline backwards in my operations brain, that tells me we need to leave today,” Poon said. “We wouldn't be able to make a flight tomorrow. There's just no way we would make it in time. And they're like, ‘yeah, that would be what would needs to happen.’ 

“(But) I can't say no to this. I mean, this is an incredible opportunity, and how do you say no to the next future president?” 

A mad scramble ensued. Poon compared it to when her water breaks at the end of pregnancy and Domingo is scrambling to get everything to go to the hospital. 

“I spent the whole morning after saying yes rescheduling meetings and making sure everything is set at CO+HOOTS the next 2-3 days,” Domingo said. “And packing.” 

Said Poon: “We throw a bunch of stuff in bags. We've got our toddler running around. We scoop him up. We grab Ayda from school, and three hours later we're at the airport.” 

The couple got on that plane not knowing even where they would be staying when they arrived. But the campaign helped with the arrangements.  

The next day, Domingo took care of the kids while Poon spent three or four hours writing, polishing and practicing her speech. The campaign sent over some speaking points about noon, after she had already started a draft, and took their IDs to conduct background checks. 

They got in an Uber not even knowing exactly how to get where they were supposed to go, Poon said. At one point, the driver took them 45 minutes away from where they were supposed to be because they couldn’t find a way into the city. 

About five blocks around the rally site were closed. They finally got close enough to walk the last 15 minutes and make it just in time. 

Poon has spoken in public before, but never before a crowd of 20,000 people, as was she was told to expect. Then in the Uber on the way there, Domingo said he didn’t want to make her nervous, but the permit had been expanded to being for 50,000 people. 

And then, of course, the estimates came in at 75,000. 

“We're walking in, and I was like, ‘Oh my gosh, this is so many people,’” Poon said. “But the good thing is the energy was so positive. Everybody was happy. They were dancing, they were singing, they were cheering. It was all so good.” 

Ayda’s takeaway from the night, for which she missed three days of school? 

“I asked her what is she going to tell her classmates about what she did in DC?” Poon said. “And she said, ‘I'm going to tell them that you told 75,000 people that I was a wild child.’ And so that's what she remembers is her mom calling her a wild child in front of 75,000 people. But she's been laughing a lot about it too.” 

And for Poon? 

“We're just so glad to be there to support her, to be a part of this historic moment,” she said. “It was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I don't think we'll ever be speaking in front of 75,000 people again.” 

We would like to invite our readers to submit their civil comments, pro or con, on this issue. Email AZOpinions@iniusa.org. Tom Blodgett can be reached by email at tblodgett@iniusa.org or follow him @sp_blodgett on X.       

Tom Blodgett
Senior News Editor | Gilbert

tblodgett@iniusa.org

Meet Tom
Tom Blodgett joined Independent Newsmedia, Inc., USA, in 2022, when the company acquired Community Impact Newspaper's Phoenix-area properties. Raised in Arizona, he has spent more than 35 years in journalism in the state.

Community: He has served as an instructional professional in the Walter Cronkite School of Journalism and Mass Communication since 2005, and is editorial adviser to The State Press, the university's independent student media outlet. He also is director of operations for an 18U girls fastpitch softball team from Gilbert.

Education: Arizona State University with a BS in Journalism. 

Random Fact: He lived in Belgium during his freshman year of high school.  

Hobbies: Tweeting enthusiastically about ASU softball (season-ticket holder) and grumpily about other local sports (pessimistic fan).