A Plea To Millennials To Reconsider Hillary Clinton

By Isaac Fornarola

Originally posted on Flux Weekly

Trust me when I say that I want a progressive candidate. Trust me, also, when I say that I want a revolution: as a working class transgender man trying to make it as a writer and educator in a collapsing-if-not-collapsed economy, there’s nothing more that I want. Still, allow me to plead with you to reconsider Hillary Clinton. To borrow the argument structure of pro-Bernie feminism (“a woman, just not this woman”), consider it possible to want a revolution, just not this revolution.

There’s a mistake in presuming that all young people opposed to Hillary Clinton are opposed to a woman in office. There’s a similar mistake in presuming that all those who are opposed to nominating Bernie Sanders are resistant to revolutionary politics. The differences between the young people of the Democratic Party can be found in the ways we feel our revolution should look and what it might aim to accomplish.

In my late teens and early twenties, I never really cared about politics, especially presidential races. The reason was simple: I didn’t believe in the power of my vote, and I assumed every candidate was totally full of it. Add to that the fact that I’d never seen a non-normative person on television, let alone a queer politician elected or running for office, and I’d say it’s fair (or at least understandable) that politics meant next to nothing to me. It’s very difficult to invest yourself in the drama of a world that has just for the first time mentioned your existence, 28 years since you’ve been around. Though I realize now the power of citizenship, action, and active investment in the political process, it took me a while. It’s a reasonable action to dismiss a world that dismisses you.

In David Foster Wallace’s now-famous piece for Rolling Stoneabout John McCain and the 2008 primary called “Up, Simba” (which every young, disenchanted voter should read) he discusses the reasons behind the disengagement of young, radical people from the political process: “The likeliest reason why so many of us care so little about politics is that modern politicians make us sad, hurt us deep down in ways that are hard even to name, much less talk about. It’s way easier to roll your eyes and not give a shit.” He describes the modern political candidates as those “who aren’t enough like human beings even to dislike — what one feels when they loom into view is just an overwhelming lack of interest, the sort of deep disengagement that is so often a defense against pain. Against sadness.” So too was my feeling toward politicians: I assumed them all to be inauthentic and corrupt by nature, and I thought that corruption was an accepted reality of politics.

Wallace is right that the callousness with which we dismiss politics as young people serves the purpose of burying the psychic pain of being lied to. It’s a defense mechanism against overwhelming disappointment, against being forced to acknowledge that the “American Dream”, as well as the ability to effect political change as a citizen, are wonderful in theory, but the political actions required to make those dreams a reality for everyone have simply not been taken in this country. Dismissing politics altogether requires acknowledging that the American Dream either never existed or is totally dead, and this requires a process of grieving which, if not done properly or completely, can result in defiant disengagement. Democratic politics has the makings of everything that would be invigorating to a young person: it functions under the assumption that anyone can achieve anything with their best efforts. Still, this is something largely acknowledged by our generation to be untrue, and the loss of that belief is a kind of trauma. For me, this disenchantment coupled with the disingenuous nature of every political candidate I’d ever seen on television (and the fact that they were all old, and white, and male, and very rarely talked about anything that pertained to me) led me to believe that not only did my vote mean very little, but that whatever surname was attached to the presidency had next to no effect on my life or my future. It was all “The Establishment” and all the same to me.

Enter the 2016 Sanders Campaign. When the Bernie Sanders started to gain some traction, I was excited, too. Trust me, no one wanted to #FeelTheBern, or has tried harder to #FeelTheBern, than I did. Part of me, even in writing this, is still trying. It would seem that Sanders is the kind of candidate I’ve always waited for, but also the kind of candidate I’d already mourned as too good to be true — which is exactly why I have such a hard time trusting him.

While Sanders has been incredibly successful at motivating and inspiring a young electorate, part of the struggle of his campaign has been securing the support of minority and LGBTQ voters. Hillary received the endorsements from both the Human Rights Campaign and over 170 African American Women leaders, not to mention the families of Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin and many more who lost their lives to police violence. And while those entities are not necessarily representative of the community on the whole, it’s still quite remarkable that Sanders, with his nearly untouchable lead among young voters, has struggled in this area (let’s not forget the protests from Black Lives Matter activists this summer who rightly pressured Sanders to issue a statement about race relations, a statement that may have come too little, too late.) This seems counter-intuitive to many: why would marginalized and underrepresented Americans be hesitant to elect the candidate who may be most obviously and most genuinely their advocate?

There’s a reason we have such a trope as the “Bernie Bro”: when your belief in the possibility of a fair United States government hasn’t been quite as irreparably wounded by hundreds of years of systemic oppression, it’s much easier to trust a candidate like Bernie. A young and progressive group of Sanders supporters (that are indeed making history with their involvement in this process, the fact of which all young people can be truly proud) should also acknowledge that the actual ability for many radical, minority and LGBTQ voters to trust a candidate like Sanders, or really any candidate, is complicated by a very long history of being systemically betrayed or ignored.

For those of us who have waited a lifetime for a candidate they could consider truly radical, we are particularly skeptical that Sanders fits that bill. I am suggesting that to trust that the revolution is here, and is happening, and that Sanders is its bell-ringer, is a hard pill to swallow, and for some more than others. There may be — dare I say it — a certain kind of privilege in being able to believe in Sanders and be energized by his campaign. Add to this the unsettling fact that Sanders is radical and revolutionary on the vast majority of issues but not all, and for this queer radical, it’s not quite enough.

So why Clinton, then?

If the claim is that Sanders isn’t radical enough, why would it make any sense to cast your vote for a candidate that isdecidedly less progressive? This is perhaps the most valid and difficult question of the 2016 Democratic Primary. Here are a few of my best guesses:

1. When you’re this disenchanted about politics, there’s an acknowledgement that you have to play the game a little to get things done.

Since many Americans have already grieved the political process as inherently corrupt and vile, the insistence that Democrats should place less emphasis on running a politically savvy campaign and more emphasis on running a “genuine” one seems kind of silly. When, just by virtue of the fact that someone is involved in politics, you consider every candidate to be an “establishment” candidate, you might as well vote for someone with reasonable, clear, and attainable goals that chip away at our biggest barriers to progress. Clinton is by no means a radical, and is arguably not even a progressive: but, as she has been quick to point out in recent days, neither are Obama, Biden, and many others revered by this party when held to the Sanders measuring stick. And while Jonathan Chait’s piece making “A Case Against Bernie Sanders” didn’t do enough to give Bernie credit for the work he’s done for our country and the riveting campaign he’s managed to run, it makes valid points about the limited role of the presidency. The likelihood of Bernie’s ability to effect revolutionary change in the areas where he shines, which are not ones in which the president typically has much sway, seems slim.

2. There are still good reasons for a radical young person to vote for a less radical candidate.

…particularly if that young person values honesty and transparency. If there’s anything I’m more skeptical of than a politician, it’s a politician that claims to be unlike the rest. Part of the appeal of Hillary Clinton is that, while definitely not a radical, she doesn’t claim to be either. She acknowledges that she tends toward the moderate and effective and away from the radical and divisive. I’ve yet to hear her backpedal when asked about campaign support from corporate donors. Hillary is not a revolutionary, but ideological transparency still has some sway with me.

3. The repercussions for many Americans in the event that we nominate Sanders and he loses aremuch greater for some than for others.

I do believe it’s important to acknowledge that the fear that Sanders might not beat Cruz or Rubio is a very real fear, and that fear is substantiated by far more than Bernie’s eccentrics or his religion (or lack thereof). It is much easier to vote for the candidate that most closely upholds your values when his likely loss in a general election wouldn’t have palpable repercussions for you. Cruz is a disaster when it comes to women’s issues, and Rubio has already threatened/promised to appoint a Supreme Court Justice that would work to overturn same-sex marriage. We barely have to discuss the dreadful repercussions to many Americans if Trump somehow continues the charade. Undeniable sexism in this country aside and despite Sanders’s own claims that have spurred media polls limited in scope, Clinton is a far more electable candidate, and playing it safedoes matter to me: because I want access to healthcare, because I want employment rights and anti-discrimination laws upheld, because I want to be able to use the bathroom without paying a fine, because I don’t want my friends or their families to get deported. The consequences of losing this election are real and would have a grave effect on many. Speaking of “electability”….

4. The “socialist” problem is, in fact, a problem.

It’s unfair to say that politically moderate or independent voters are opposed to a self-described socialist in office because they are afraid of the word or have misconceptions about its meaning. While that may be true for some, those voters are unlikely to vote for a Democratic nominee to begin with. It’s insulting to moderate or undecided voters to assume that their opposition to socialism in the White House is a result of fear or misinformation. The real reason that many people don’t want socialism in the White House is that they aren’t socialists. Most Americans simply aren’t: a fact that seems surprising to many in my generation. And most Americans, myself included, want a revolution that honors and amends the principles of democracy and competitive markets. Believe it or not, there are many of us who still think that great change is possible, and that that change doesn’t require a revolution of political ideology. Most Americans, even those who want or are waiting for a real revolution, want a revolution that is both truly new and truly American. A self-described socialist who repeatedly points to other countries as superior models of fair and effective governance simply rubs me the wrong way, and I lean wayfurther left than your average voter. I may have lost hope for a genuine and incorruptible candidate long ago, but I have not lost faith in American ingenuity, competitiveness, and resolve.

5. We should actively consider whether Sanders’ proposals address the root of inequality in this country.

We should consider whether an economy run on socialist principles actually addresses the issues that have led to such a devastating state of inequality. Most of Sanders’ proposals involve a huge expansion of federal regulation and control. This would require citizens to have a substantial amount of trust in a few men and women in the White House to fairly, effectively, and equitably regulate certain industries to acceptable standards. And when you’ve never been treated fairly or equitably by your government before, why should it feel comfortable to give that government a much greater degree of control? I believe in democracy and free markets because I value my right to make choices, and I value that right because my government, historically, has not. If Sanders ever got free, universal healthcare for everyone to pass, why would anyone, in the context of our history and the systemic oppression of women and people of color that was largely endorsed and perpetrated by the federal government, trust that same government to ensure that my needs are met?

If you’re a young Sanders supporter, ask yourself this: have you ever been to a public health clinic? If every doctor’s office is to be a federally regulated clinic, the reality is we will need substantially more healthcare workers and they will be paid substantially less. This is also true of free public higher education: teachers, most of whom barely make a living to begin with, will be paid substantially less, and I’ve yet to hear Sanders’s solution to that inevitability — in fact, I haven’t even heard the question posed. We should consider valuing choices more than we value having everything for free. I want it to be possible for everyone in this country to make choices. And if that isn’t the case now, which it isn’t, the problems are much more significant than amending the Affordable Care Act or lowering the costs of education. First we have to identify the problem: systemic racism and sexism. Then, we have to address it. I am not confident that making healthcare or education completely free either addresses or solves these problems.

Where I stand apart from Sanders and his supporters is with regard to what a revolution in a democracy looks like. To me, it’s about fixing deep-seated ethical and ideological problems that put marginalized populations at a fixed disadvantage in a competitive economy. I want my revolution to ensure that every American citizen can take part in our democracy and make their own choices, including demanding the best healthcare and the best education, which requires a competitive market. I don’t support Sanders’s brand of revolution because I haven’t quite given up on American potential yet. My millennial friends might call that pie-eyed and unrealistic, but bear in mind that’s the same thing everyone is saying about Sanders, and about you.

—

Many people criticize Clinton supporters for not being progressive enough, but the reality is that Sanders is not quite revolutionary enough, or at least not the kind of revolutionary I would want for a democracy, or for my country. His solutions to undeniable economic inequality don’t address systemic injustices sufficiently. So why not take this opportunity to elect a liberal who can win, who I trust will do her best to fight for us by taking incremental steps toward progress within the constraints placed on her by a corrupt and slow-moving system? And while we’re at it, why not elect the first woman President in the history of the United States?

In the same way that young women are tired of being asked to support Hillary by virtue of her womanhood, I’m tired of being asked as a radical millennial to support Bernie by virtue of his self-proclaimed revolution. Bernie makes claims that a revolution will come once he’s elected, but those claims alone are not enough for me to trust that it’s true or even possible, and that’s the result of a resentment that stretches across an entire lifetime in which my actual personhood has been disregarded or disrespected by boring, ineffectual and disingenuous politicians. I’m actually astonished (if not a bit startled) by how easily and willingly other young voters accept Sanders’s claims that true revolution will come once he’s elected. That’s not to say that I wouldn’t delight in being wrong, but in the meantime, I’ll support Hillary, whom I respect and admire for her ability to navigate a rigged system, and I’ll wait for my true radical. More than just a safe bet, I believe that she’d make an effective leader in a corrupt world. I urge everyone in my generation to, at the very least, reconsider Hillary Clinton for President.