MANCHESTER, N.H. — There were no tears at the Boys & Girls Club of Greater Derry on Wednesday morning, but voters saw a more tender Hillary Clinton, an attempt to close the emotional distance between the candidate and standoffish primary voters.

“You have to be led by your heart if you are in public life to try and help other people,” she said, with former Rep. Gabby Giffords and her husband, Mark Kelly, sitting on stage behind her, a reminder of the grittiest commitment to public service. “But the heart has to be matched with your head. I would take what you know, what you see, what you feel and translate it into action in life, in politics, in business, in any other kind of endeavor.”


The soft-sell style marked a departure from the stiffer tone she adopted in Iowa, including her fiery remarks at her caucus night rally in Des Moines. Instead of the practical, driven Tracy Flick-ish mantra that she employed in Iowa — that she is a “progressive who gets things done” — Clinton has launched a softer, more emotional plea in New Hampshire about showing “heart.”

Despite winning Iowa, campaign sources said Clinton was unhappy with the narrative that Sanders was the “heart” candidate people fall in love with, and she was the “head” candidate who people realize makes a more practical, if less romantic, choice. That was the appeal some of Sanders’ precinct captains made on caucus night, telling supporters “vote with your heart, not with your head.”

It didn’t ring true to Clinton’s self-image, an inside campaign source said, and she wanted to reclaim an emotional piece of the campaign — on turf where she feels comfortable.

“[T]hink about it,” Clinton told the intimate town hall crowd Wednesday. “How we need to have more heart, more heart for each other, more heart for those who are suffering and left behind, more heart for working folks who feel like they’re not getting ahead ... more heart for the people among us who still feel discriminated against because of their sexual orientation or disability or their gender or their race, or any other factor that should not be part of how they are viewed and feel.”

She added: “We have a lot of work of the heart to do.”

It’s a very different approach from the one Clinton took on the road in the final days of Iowa, where her argument was about which candidate had more rational, achievable plans, not headier ideals. “It seems to me it’s a lot easier to get from 90 percent to 100 percent than to get from zero to 100 percent,” she said often of her plans to build on Obamacare, compared to Sanders’ dream of trying to institute a new system of universal health care for all.

Despite lowering expectations of a victory here, New Hampshire is still a state where Clinton feels comfortable and one she credits with helping her to find her political voice. This is where Clinton broke down eight years ago, her eyes tearing up and her voice swelling with emotion in response to a simple question from a Portsmouth voter: “How do you do it?”

The moment took on outsized significance — Clinton, who had downplayed any focus on her gender, showed in one unscripted coffee shop moment that it was possible for a female candidate to be both vulnerable and powerful.

“I have so many opportunities from this country,” Clinton said then, as she grew thoughtful and teary, “and I just don’t want to see us fall backwards.”

Thanks to an outpouring of female support, she went on to win the state. This time around, the hope is that it won’t take another bout of tears for voters to feel like they catch a glimpse of the woman beyond the politician in the famous pantsuit. The campaign sought to humanize her from Day One, showcasing a more “relatable” Hillary by highlighting her mother’s tragic childhood, having Clinton embrace her new grandmother status and focus on her gender. But a tougher-than-expected primary battle with Sanders seems to have tabled some of those efforts.

“I just could not ever skip New Hampshire,” she said Wednesday, after noting that “a lot of political pundits have been opining that I should have just skipped coming to New Hampshire.”

“I cannot even imagine not being here,” she added, “not being in settings like this.” The setting was an intimate town hall, where she was introduced by Giffords and Kelly, who also campaigned with her in Iowa, and took questions from the audience.

At her morning event, Clinton also seemed to enjoy campaigning as the wounded underdog — an unaccustomed position without the pressure of being the inevitable front-runner.

Sanders has been fighting back against the Clinton machine, which has moved aggressively to lower expectations in the state and to affix an asterisk to his expected victory, due to his neighboring-state advantage.

He has launched attacks on Clinton for not being a true progressive — and, as in the past, Clinton seemed ready to occupy the role of candidate wounded by a male rival’s insensitivity. She said that Sanders resorted to a “low blow” when he told a reporter Clinton was a progressive only “some days.” His critique was reminiscent of a patronizing Barack Obama remark from 2008, when he told Clinton she was “likeable enough” — a comparison her communications director and former Obama staffer Jennifer Palmieri made on Twitter.

“I thought to myself, I think it was a good day for progressives when I helped to get 8 million kids health care under the children’s health insurance program,” Clinton said, defending herself. “And I think it was a good day for progressives when I joined with colleagues in the Senate to stop George W. Bush from privatizing Social Security. It was another good day when I went to Geneva to speak out on behalf of gay rights.”

Clinton ended her morning event with a plea designed to appeal to her own supporters — and to Democrats considering Sanders. “I hope New Hampshire you will come on this journey with me,” she said, “with both your hearts and your heads.”