Inside the Convention: Day Two
July 26, 2016
These day-by-day recaps of the convention have ended up becoming pretty epic, and my life has been busier than ever since I got back from Philly — so I’ve resigned myself to grinding one of these out per week. Luckily, my four days at the convention made enough of an impression that my brain seems to be retaining a good amount of detail, even as that week grows more distant…
So, Tuesday.
Tuesday was the big day: the day we delegates actually cast our votes — votes that represented the wills of thousands of Democrats in our districts. It’s the reason we were all here in Philadelphia, the reason we had raised thousands of dollars to fly across the country and stay in an overpriced hotel.
That’s why it felt so underwhelming and informal when the big moment actually happened. It wasn’t on the floor of the convention hall, but at breakfast when I checked in for my daily credentials. A young woman simply took out a very unofficial-looking, stapled-together stack of papers, found my name, and asked me to mark “Clinton, Sanders, or Other” next to my signature. And that was that. Thousands upon thousands of voters cast their ballots for Sanders in my district — so many we only lost by 67 votes — and it all boiled down into me, Lindsay Nelson, and Jon Schnitzer checking little boxes next to our names on an unofficial-looking piece of paper.
It drove home how strange our election system is — how outdated it feels in the 21st Century that three individuals represented 65,908 Sanders voters in CD-28. We could have marked “Clinton” next to our names and unilaterally overturned the will of thousands. We could have slept in and missed breakfast and simply not cast a vote at all. Why the hell are we still doing it this way?
In any case, those existential thoughts left my mind when word spread that Bernie was coming to speak to the California delegation during breakfast. As soon as he was introduced, the Sanders delegates rose out of their seats and swarmed the front of the stage, rock-concert style. More than one veteran Clinton delegate scoffed at the sight: “What are you doing? Sit down!”
They still didn’t get it. Bernie isn’t an normal politician and his delegates aren’t ladder-climbing DNC insiders. He’s a freaking rockstar and his campaign is the only reason any of us became delegates in the first place.
Bernie gave a great speech — but when he got to the inevitable bit about electing Clinton, he was once again met with boo’s and chants of “WE WANT BERNIE!” As Lindsay observed, this time around Bernie turned red; perhaps with embarrassment — or anger. Either way, his next statement said it all:
“It’s easy to boo, but it is harder to look your kids in the face who would be living under a Donald Trump presidency.”
Unlike his most ardent supporters, who weren’t ready to let go yet, Bernie was looking to the future. And I began to see what he saw: a victory for Trump this November would be the worst possible outcome for the Sanders movement.
The way Bernie sees it, neither Jill Stein or Gary Johnson have a chance in hell of winning. With 100 days until November 8th, it’s just not going to happen (although, with Trump imploding daily and a possible Wikileaks “October surprise,” who the hell knows??). You may disagree with that assessment, but Bernie himself has said despite the valuable issues raised by third parties, it’s going to be a choice between Clinton or Trump.
If Hillary is elected, the conversation moving forward is about holding her feet to the fire on the Democrat’s progressive party platform. Worst case scenario, Clinton is revealed to be the Republican-in-sheep’s-clothing her detractors accuse her of being and we can lay the groundwork for a progressive challenger in 2020. Best case scenario, Bernie’s movement gives Clinton a Democratic (or Bernie-crat-ic) majority in both houses that want to actually craft progressive policy, and she lives up to her campaign rhetoric by signing the key elements of the Democratic platform into law.
But with Trump as President (or really, Mike Pence as President), the debate is no longer about how to reform or challenge the Democratic Party. It’s all about defeating Trump and the Republicans, at all costs, by any means, with any Democrat — establishment or not. Anyone’s better than Trump!
Beyond all the obvious reasons a Trump presidency would be abhorrent, you can bet the blame for such an unthinkable outcome would land swiftly and forcefully on Sanders and his “Bernie or Bust” supporters. His supporters would be the Ralph Nader of 2016, “spoiling” the election, resulting in an even stupider, more unpredictable leader of the free world than George W. Bush. It would send exactly the wrong message and could discourage strong progressive movements from challenging the establishment for yet another decade.
Of course nobody can predict the future — this election year has taught us that, if nothing else. But I understand 100% that despite their differences, Bernie would much rather build his movement under a status-quo Clinton presidency than an apocalyptic Trump situation.
All that was on my mind as Lindsay and I arrived late to a secret meeting of the California Bernie delegation. The delegates were huddled in an abandoned, empty room adjacent to the hotel’s swimming pool. I didn’t participate back in the height of the Occupy movement, only observed from afar — but I quickly realized that the Bernie delegates were self-organizing using the Occupy model.
I was really impressed with the second half of the meeting that I observed. Delegates submitted their names to make 30-second comments after the elected leaders were done speaking. Time keepers made sure nobody went over their allotted time and the basic tenants of Robert Rules of Order seemed widely understood. Ultimately a two major points were agreed upon by the group:
1.) The indiscriminate booing and heckling throughout Monday night was counter-productive and ineffective. From now on, any noise or chants raised in the convention center needed to be organized and issue-based.
2.) Despite talk of a “walk-out” after that evening’s roll call (which would inevitably name Clinton the winner), the argument was made that we should stay in our seats and fulfill our obligations as delegates to represent our constituents—which included raising awareness about issues we felt the convention was ignoring or papering over.
I left that meeting feeling better about our group and our ability to organize. But there were also unanswered questions: if we were staying through the end of the night, what, if anything, would we be doing? Bill Clinton was slated to speak, as were the mothers of the Black Lives Matter movement. Did we want to do anything in solidarity with them? Any silent protest of policies enacted by the first Clinton Administration? I worried that without discussing these issues, delegates would once again make up their own minds and we’d devolve into chaos again.
A young black woman from the California delegation had the idea of putting tape over her mouth, either writing “Black Lives Matter” across it or placing a Black Lives Matter sticker on top. It would be a visual symbol for the cameras — of solidarity with the mothers of the movement, and in silent protest of criminal justice policies enacted by the first Clinton administration. I thought it sounded like a great idea, and tried my best to spread the word to others in the delegation (including Rosario Dawson and Shaylene Woodley…which made me giddy).
Before I knew it, I was back inside the Wells Fargo Center, and the Roll Call had begun. One thing that immediately struck me was how off some of the final numbers seemed. New Hampshire proudly announced that they had 16 delegates for Bernie, and 16 for Hillary! Didn’t Bernie win New Hampshire in a landslide? Oh right, superdelegates.
In a bit of a slap-in-the-face to Bernie supporters (who had decried the undemocratic system from the beginning), superdelegates were included in the first ballot totals — and of course, the vast majority of them voted for Clinton, cancelling out many of Bernie’s victories.
In the end, the discreipancy was ultimately an emotional thing. Bernie didn’t win the pledged delegates he needed with or without superdelegates, but it would have been nice to at least have the official Roll Call reflect the will of the voters—and add in those pesky superdelegates at the end. Maybe they just wanted to ensure Clinton passed the “magic number” on the first ballot, lest any Bernie delegates get the idea this could still be a contested convention.
In any case, my favorite moment of the convention occurred when Bernie’s brother Larry Sanders took the mic as a delegate from Americans Abroad and said of their parents:
“They did not have easy lives and they died young … They loved the New Deal of Franklin Roosevelt and would be especially proud that Bernard is renewing that vision. It is with enormous pride that I cast my vote for Bernie Sanders.”
If there was any moment during the entire week that nearly brought my to tears, this was it. It summed up everything that endeared us to Bernie: his truly humble beginnings and his earnest New Deal vision for the future of the country.
Vermont went last, allowing every state and territory to officially cast their votes, which I appreciated. And that’s when Bernie performed the now-standard moment of “unity” expected at party conventions, suspending the rules and calling for a vote by acclimation:
“I move that Hillary Clinton be selected as the nominee of the Democratic party for President of the United States.”
Of course, the “ayes” had it, and that was that.
And that’s when I realized I was suddenly surrounded by empty seats in the California delegation. Despite our agreement earlier in the day that we would not be walking out — it seemed that everyone was walking out. Other state delegations had planned to do so, and California followed.
So much for our plan to stay in our seats. But as one delegate told me, “It’s organic. All you can do is react to what happens in the moment.”
Lindsay and I wandered out of the arena, trailing the bulk of the walk-out crowd. Their destination: the large “media tent,” where journalists from around the world were stationed. Bernie delegates stood outside the tent, waving their signs, many with gags or tape over their mouthes with the word “silenced” written across it (representing the belief that their votes were suppressed in the primary).
I wandered a bit, holding up a sign of my own I had made for Roll Call day: “Sanders Beats Trump” (a last plea to the DNC to consider the risk of running an “establishment” candidate in an “anti-establishment” year).
Suddenly, I was pulled aside by a man from a Kurdish television who asked me if I was willing to be filmed in a 20-minute conversation with a Hillary delegate. I said, “Sure.”
Before I knew it, I was inside the media tent, sitting on a stool next to a woman from Irvine — a Hillary delegate wearing a rather bombastic patriotic hat. The young Kurdish journalist sat to our side and asked us questions that often deviated from the American mainstream media script. In particular, he and his audience were very interested in the foreign policy differences between Bernie Sanders and Hillary Clinton.
It struck me how little the media in America really questions the default, baseline militarism and hawkishness exhibited by both parties. Here was a guy whose people are directly affected by our actions in the Middle East. As someone who focuses primarily on domestic issues, it was humbling to be face-to-face with someone whose home, family, way of life could radically affected by our foreign policy.
After the discussion (which I am proud to say was very civil and rather satisfying), the reporter and I chatted for a bit. He recalled talking to his wife about our election system how she couldn’t understand why it was so complicated — the endless succession of primaries and caucuses, each state following different rules; the fact that we elect delegates and have the electoral college rather than direct democracy. All I could do was shake my head and say, “Yeah, we think it’s crazy too.”
He mentioned how genuine and honest Bernie seemed to him — a feature he doesn’t expect from politicians. He said many people overseas were rooting for Bernie. All I could do was shake my head. “We tried.”
Lindsay and I made our way back into Wells Fargo Center. After all, we thought the plan was to stay in solidarity with the “Mothers of the Movement,” which this night was supposedly dedicated to. But it turned out there was only one brief portion of the evening dedicated to the mothers of police shooting victims — they all came out at once and a few of them spoke briefly but powerfully to the convention. After that, it became a night filled with celebrities like Lena Dunham, America Ferrera, and Elizabeth Banks, all leading up to Bill Clinton’s big speech. With most of the Bernie delegation gone, we decided to head out as well.
I’m so happy we did. For one night during an otherwise non-stop week, Lindsay and I got outside the bubble of the convention and were able to mingle with non-delegates on the streets.
We strolled over to the Working Families afterparty and got to experience a completely different atmosphere than the Hollywood-awards-show vibe of the convention. In a charming house-turned-union-hall, progressives from inside and outside the convention mingled and heard from speakers like Lucy Flores (a Nevada congressional candidate who came out early for Bernie and likely suffered consequences for it). The main entertainment of the night was not Demi Lovato or Katy Perry, but an awesome drag queen of color who performed the hell out of some Michael Jackson classics.
But the most memorable thing about the evening was hearing from all the Bernie supporters who had traveled to Philly — including some friends from LA— who thanked us, over and over again, for bringing “The Revolution” into the convention hall.
They had spent the last few days marching in the sweltering, humid streets of Philadelphia, calling for serious and immediate action on climate change, against the corruption of big money in politics, against systemic racism in our policing and criminal justice system, against the military industrial complex, etc. And to witness us Bernie delegates there in the convention hall, holding up signs like “Ban Fracking Now,” watching us protest and disrupt the otherwise polished proceedings — they told us it meant everything to them. They were so proud of us for having the bravery to stand up and make some noise within the convention; they felt it as a powerful act of solidarity with the marches and movements out on the streets, largely being ignored by the mainstream media.
As Lindsay and I headed back to the hotel, our minds were spinning. It seemed impossible to reconcile all the information and perspectives and ideas that we had absorbed in the course of 48 hours. We’d been texted by people who told us the Bernie delegates “looked bad” on TV, that the pundits were calling us “brats,” that the booing and heckling and walking out was not good for the cause. We’d been thanked profusely by overjoyed supporters and marchers on the street, who said that our willingness to protest within the convention was keeping them going. We’d felt outrage at the DNC after the Wikileaks revelations, hardening our anti-Hillary sentiments. We’d been asked by Bernie himself to please support Clinton to ensure a defeat of Trump.
We had some great conversations late into the night wrestling with it all, going back and forth, looking at the current moment from every possible angle, arguing the pros and cons of every possible outcome. It felt like were right in the middle of it, of the whole messy, turbulent, crazy fight being waged within the Democratic Party, and our actions were directly affecting the narrative.
And the convention was only halfway done.
Read the rest of my day-by-day account of the 2016 Democratic Convention:
The Political Revolution: An Ending and a Beginning
Inside the Convention: Day Zero
Inside the Convention: Day One
