Tuesday, August 16, 2016

Our Revolution or The Kids are All right

Democracy is always unruly. So are revolutions. And you can't always separate what works from what doesn't. There are always going to be sausage casings on the floor, and slippery muck underfoot. Don't look too close and take away what you will.

Like conspiracy theories. Was the election rigged? Like most things, the answer will turn out to be yes and no. Those in power want to stay in power. You sometimes have to chop them down at the root. Whoops, there goes Debbie Wasserman Schultz. And the people doing the chopping and the chanting, don't always know what they want, or when they get it it.

On the last night of the Democratic National Convention, as I sat among the Bernie kids, I didn't have a very hard time seeing my younger self in them. We wanted revolution too, and we seriously thought we'd get it. Not only in our lifetimes, but before we turned thirty, and could not longer trust ourselves, an irony totally lost on us back then.


Tonight, I see disorganization in action, carefully Kinko printed signs waved at appropriate or inappropriate times; Bernie no longer visible in his box where he has been sitting, chin on hand for the last three nights (although people say he's still there, hidden behind the crowds, his own people, Hillary people, Secret Service, DNC goons, or whatever the theory of the moment is about where all these new people came from).

We had rushed to get there early, warned that seat holders, hired off Craigslist would keep us from our places in the stands, and the seats had occupied -  the three old ladies, I call us, Mayme, Ruth and me - do find our accustomed places three rows from the top of the California delegation, at the end of the row, amidst the unruly northern California Bernie kids, taken, we find places a few rows down where a lone woman in a white blazer, with smoldering eyes stands in the middle of the row and declaims "These seats are for my friends."

You can't save seats, we say; we are sitting here. No she says, my friends are coming. "You can stay," I say in my most accommodating tone, "but we have to sit somewhere, and people are in our seats."  We sit, she fumes; she threatens to tell someone; schoolyard tactics.

later Alieta from the DNC arrives, smoothing ruffled feathers.  I realize I may one of the very few people here who actually know people in the DNC, who actually got to vote for them, as I sit on the Executive Board of the California Democratic Party. It's the last night of the Convention; previously empty seats are filled. How did all the Hillary people get here so early, when the first buses didn't leave until 2:30 and we were on one? (How, for that matter, did all these other Bernie people get here before us to take our seats?) Seat fillers, people knowingly whisper, no, shout around us. Goons, paid to keep us, rightfully elected Bernie delegates, from our seats.

If you leave you'll never get back in, they say. They will put someone in your seat. The guards at the door wont let you in.  I seriously want a drink. Tom Steyer, of Next Gen Climate Change has established a watering hole and buffet free to California delegates in the closed down bar across from our section. You need an ID to get in, to prove you are a California delegate, and not an interloper from, say Arkansas. Bernie and Hillary delegates mingle and drink together, eat ersatz fajitas and middle eastern fare, fruit and popcorn, vie for a space on the comfy white leather couches and fat arm chairs equipped with outlets for phone charging.
I ask the volunteers at the door if I can go out and still get back in. Of course, as long as you have your floor badge. At least one myth debunked. But later I see videos of the reserved signs on all the seats, ours included, and the very same woman who tried to keep us from sitting in the row she was saving "for her friends" refusing to budge, even after the Bernie people pull all the reserved signs off the seats.

I head for the bar. There on the TVs usually reserved for basketball viewing (this is a basketball arena after all), I watch some blustering General echo the troubling theme of military might. Inside the arena, the kids are shouting No More War and waving signs wildly. California may be off to the side, the Oregon and Washington are front and Center, their bright neon shirts proclaiming Enough is Enough leading the chants.

Inside, more conspiracy theories. Shawnee Badger, a twenty-two year old delegate who aspires to modeling and acting on her website, talks incessantly and urgently into her phone, recording the whole action; "See those things up there," she says, holding aloft her phone to film the mounted boxes above us that look like speakers. "Those are white noise machines, to drown us out." Later we learn they are wi fi enhancers or something innocuous , but it does seem to be true that after the first unruly chants of nights one and two, the home viewing audience doesn't hear much from the California Berners. Across from us, chants of USA USA are drowning out the "No more war" chants when Hillary speaks, once again, of American military might. I have the very surreal feeling I have stumbled into a parallel universe of the Republicans National Convention, or maybe an international soccer match.

After some Bernie kids creatively "deface' the first few official signs, using their smuggled in markers to change some wording to reflect pro-Bernie, anti-war, anti-Hillary sentiment, they are handed on the first couple of nights, signs reading  Stronger Together, Love Trumps Hate, others, the volunteers in neon vests, or hall monitors, as I think of them, no longer give us any more. We don't get the Hillary signs, or the USA signs, don't want those. We do get American flags, the kids affix to their Bernie signs or their Ban Fracking signs, or other signs, some of which make no sense, until deep reflection. Not made for prime time, but the cameras are not on our section.

The Oregon group across the way sticks to the main message NO TPP. When Hillary speaks, our elected whips or representatives try to keep a form of order by determining which signs to hold up when. Bernie has texted everyone that he wants us to be respectful. He has nominated Hillary after all. Some people can't help themselves and boo anyway. Sounds of Shhh Shh, can be heard. Shouts of "Hold up your signs. No, the other sign!" pointing out the "intersectionality Matters signs people have been given. "But I don't know what it means," says a woman behind me." I'm not holding up any signs. Except, I can't help myself, once an anti-war activist, always an anti-war activist, I do wave my No more war sign, when Hillary who must prove she is tough, Commander in Chief material, I get it, starts in on how she helped decide to kill Bin Laden.

The night before, we shouted that message to Leon Panetta, and I chanted along with the rest, and he got it, looking chagrined to be out shouted by the crowd. They turned off the lights in Oregon, and the kids took up the chant, "Lights lights lights!" And the Oregon delegation lit up their cell phone flashlights. This is what Democracy looks like.

Many of these kids came out of the Occupy movement. And they have come to occupy the DNC. Many of them have turned their back on Bernie from the moment he endorsed Clinton last Tuesday in a joint appearance. Or they just refuse to believe it. The vote is rigged; (well, yes, isn't it always), he didn't actually say he conceded. When we cast our votes for him at the Convention, won't they be surprised. The interwebs are buzzing in the lead up to the Convention, with loose strategy. "Talk to a superdelegate," Some people urge. "Make them understand  if they vote for Hillary, she can't win. They must vote for Berrnie." "Talk to Hillary delegates," say others, "Get them to change their votes. Explain the polls to them. Only Bernie can win against Trump"  I don't know if anyone actually did try talking to Superdelegate or Hillary delegates at the Convention. I know letters were sent to some Superdlegates urging them to vote for Bernie, or at least abstain. On the night of the roll call, several abstentions were noted in some states. Were these Superdelegates who listened? or leftover Martin O'Malley supporters? Or something else altogether?

When WikiLeaks confirms the fears of NC complicity in a Hillary victory,  and Wasserman Schultz provided more resources to the Hillary camp than the Bernie camp despite their supposed neutrality and even handedness toward all candidates, the game is amped up. Wassermann Schultz is forced to resign. But why did Hillary hire her?The questions persist. Many people still to this day feel the election was rigged. Perfect, no. Did some in the DNC try to influence the election for Hillary. No question. But what exactly was done, who did it and why? It's up to us to ferret that out. Let's ask our DNC delegates as soon as we can, to sit down and discuss these serious issues with us.



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