I had been tempted to take the kids to her rally the first week of May. But that rally in Oakland came just a day after reports of harassment at a rally in East LA. The idea of taking two children, an hour in traffic, to a place where they’d have to sit or stand for hours, was daunting enough already, without scary weirdos with bullhorns.

But I really wanted to see her. And I wanted my daughter Sophie to go too. So when I learned she was coming to San Jose, I thought I’d give it a shot. I spent the night before getting a sign together. The next day I took my son Austin to school and gave Sophie breakfast. And then we got dressed and headed out. We got in line at 11:00. Doors opened at 11:30.

There were some counter demonstrators, but they mostly stayed on the other side of the street. Everyone was civil. The people near us in line were wonderful. More than that, they felt like old friends.

I haven’t managed to go to a Bernie rally, so I don’t know what the crowd there is like. And people aren’t kidding when they say the crowd going to see Clinton is older, and more female. What surprised me was how many mothers were there with their children. We were next in line to a mother with her seven year old, who became Sophie’s new best friend. Speaking with her mom, I learned that she also had another child that she hadn’t brought: and I agreed her 2 and a half year old probably couldn’t deal with an event like this. I was surprised Sophie did as well as she did and I spent much of the event weighing whether to leave on a happy note instead of waiting for her to get tired or hungry and freak out. She enjoyed hiding behind the sign we’d brought and I’d brought some stickers and snacks. I was prepared.

In the long, dark tunnel leading to security, I had to surrender my homemade sign and give up the snacks and juice we’d brought. I cannot think of a better way to cripple the parents trying to bring children to a rally, though I understand why that was necessary. We were in an auditorium with no food or water from 12 until about 2.

Hillary was scheduled to appear on stage at 1:30, with another appearance that afternoon in San Francisco. And I had no one who could pick up my son from school, so I knew I could not stay past 1:50 if I wanted to have time to walk back to my car and make it to school. And now I’d have to grab something for my daughter to eat as well. But I stayed optimistic! We were going to do this!

As the minutes passed, it became more and more difficult to keep her happy. I walked her around the auditorium. I walked her around the lobby by the bathrooms. She rode on my shoulders. She ran in circles around me. We went into the bathrooms. We came out of the bathrooms. I successfully prevented her from popping the balloon bouquets directly behind the Secret Service dudes. And I had a lot of empathy for her.

Around 1:15, she lost it. And a volunteer from the local campaign dug through her purse until she found a granola bar and a snickers. We were so close. Just 15 more minutes. Maybe we can see her come in?

At 1:30 there was still no podium on stage. At 1:40 we heard the crowd cheer for no discernible reason. We made some more friends: a little girl and a little boy, and they raced around me like tiny, shrieking moons.

At 1:50 we left.

When I saw the news later, I saw that Clinton hadn’t arrived until 2:15: the same time I had to pick up my son from school. I don’t blame her for this. She came in from an event in Las Vegas that morning and had more events later. I have no idea how she even manages to stand up after this kind of brutal schedule. But it was an interesting insight into how the media presents rallies and candidates: Bernie fills stadiums and has celebrities with him. His events are full of college students and other young people. I’ve seen a few pictures of children at his rallies, but not many, and this is not surprising: a political rally is an extremely family unfriendly affair. There’s lots of standing around, security and unpredictable rules and amenities. It’s most like going to the airport, except then you go home instead of actually getting on a plane.

Disappointment is a frequent feeling for parents. We give up so many things when we decide to raise children. I have seen one movie this year. I buy food I think they will like and wind up eating it myself when they refuse it. I had to stop going to the gym when my son’s schedule changed and haven’t found a working replacement yet. And so I wasn’t surprised that we invested all this time and effort in something that didn’t work out. What was surprising was all the people I didn’t know who wanted to help me deal with this very ordinary problem. A sweet child in the line who entertained mine. Her mother who offered to share snacks and hold things while I juggled my stuff. The couple behind us who took our picture. The volunteer inside who found snacks in the bottom of her bag for my cranky charge. The security guard who smiled and thanked her by name as she gave him her bag to inspect. The dancing man who gave her his fan. These are the things that make a community. They are small, and not glamourous. They add up over time, like the canvassing and registration the Hillary volunteers have been working at for a month.

I keep seeing Sanders fans who say it’s time for Hillary supporters to reach out to them and build bridges. And though it’s hard sometimes to resist the urge to snark, I wanted to say something about this trip that I hoped was positive and not divisive:

And even this small statement, without any real endorsement, was met with nasty when I shared it on Twitter.

I have a very hard time understanding this. I might not have liked Carly Fiorina, for example, but if a conservative mom had wanted to take her daughter to her rally, to show her a woman vying for the presidency, I would understand. And frankly, I would still think that’s a positive lesson for a young girl in our country. We all get to raise our children according to our beliefs, and I think there is something very wrong when we can’t respect a family peacefully attending something like a rally. Or a church.

And I find that really weird: Bernie was widely depicted as a hero for flying out to meet the Pope, an extremely powerful man, who, for all his progressive noises about the environment and poverty, still supports bans on abortion and contraception in many countries. He still denounces policies that recognize LGBT rights. And there are no reports that say Bernie even raised those issues at the Vatican. There is so much room here, for both candidates to be better. And it makes me curious, what exactly does this strange person online expect me to tell a three year old about Clinton? Or Sanders? What could I possibly hope to tell her about Iraq or Exxon that wouldn’t be terrifying and confusing? I don’t want to judge what other parents do, but for me, personally, that would be brainwashing. If I sat down my toddler and taught her which people running for president are good or evil, that would be brainwashing. If I tried to explain the events that led up to the war in Iraq or climate change, in a way that should could understand, that would be brainwashing, because I would have to edit out all the complexity. So instead, I keep things simple, so that she can understand the world without being told which side is right. I teach her to clean up after herself, and to share what she has and that people can help each other. I model patience and kindness as well as I can, and I apologize when I yell or lose my temper.

And that is how I hope, in time, when she grows and gains the ability to understand more complex issues, she’ll recognize what is dangerous about someone like Donald Trump, without me having to tell her “this one is the bad guy”. She’ll be able to make her own choices about candidates that will run in her lifetime. And maybe we will disagree, the way I have with my own parents, who still give me a hard time about having voted for Nader in 2000.

But recently, my mother also gave me her Clean for Gene bandanna. Because idealism runs in my family. And in a small way, I was ready to share that sentiment with any protesters we did encounter. You are not the first people who wanted idealism instead of politics. And you won’t be the last. And maybe that will help us find a way through this election together.