A FUTURE YOU CAN BLEAT IN?
As the unimaginably long line snaked through block after block after block south of Pioneer Square on the day of the big Bernie Sanders rally at Safeco Field, the day before the Washington State Democratic caucuses, a few jokes came to mind (this’ll be nothing compared to the bread lines when President Sanders takes office—that sort of thing), but the general vibe was optimistic and enthusiastic. That is, until we saw you, with your sad little captive goat, wandering up and down the line, shouting about liberty. You are part of the reason some people can’t take the Bern’s chances too seriously.
CAUCUSING THE DAY AFTER THE SANDERS RALLY
You, a young Capitol Hill resident who works in health-care research, showed up to your caucus a little apprehensive about the whole process. You don’t like to be a “joiner” or to “get into a group mentality,” you said. But you’d spent the evening before at the Bernie Sanders rally at Safeco Field, and it had inspired you. That—combined with a touch of distrust of Hillary Clinton—had you leaning toward Sanders, though you still considered yourself an undecided voter. Town Hall Seattle, your caucus site, had filled way beyond capacity, so you followed the other members of your precinct outside to the parking lot where they were caucusing: Sanders supporters to one side, Clinton supporters to the other, instructed the person in charge (who was wearing a foam cutout of the United States on her head). You joined a few other undecided voters in the middle and listened as the two sides volleyed arguments at each other over your head. By the end, you were the only person still left in the middle, looking back and forth between the two sides. “The one thing we haven’t really talked about is health care,” you said, and the two sides went at it again. In the end, you went with Sanders, as you figured you probably would.
CAUCUSING FOR CLINTON AT
GARFIELD
You arrived at a packed Garfield Community Center with your 6-year-old in tow on Saturday, and waited half an hour for caucusing to begin. Organizers had temporarily run out of forms. You, one of the few people of color amid a sea of white faces at Garfield, had come to caucus for Hillary. You liked Bernie, but you were skeptical about how much he’d be able to get done if he were actually elected to office. After all, you were living in Chicago in 2008 when Obama won. “I was very much involved in the whole idea of the hope that he represented, the optimism that he represented, the evenhanded collegiality he represented, and had a real hope that he would be able to work with his colleagues in Washington to make some substantive changes,” you said. “But after almost eight years of subtle and not-so-subtle racist behavior, microaggressions and macroaggressions, disrespect, and plain old obstructionism, my hopes were very, sort of, blunted for any real progress that could be made.” Now, if Obama, a constitutional law scholar and a fan of consensus building, couldn’t make progress, how the hell was Bernie, a socialist, supposed to do it? Hillary, on the other hand, you weren’t worried about: “One of the things she can do, and what she shows she can do, is perform the elements of masculinity that get her respect.”
CAUCUSING FOR SANDERS WHILE STANDING ON A CHAIR
We saw you at the Democratic caucuses at Miller Community Center, wearing a Bernie Sanders beanie and holding a Bernie Sanders placard. When the time came, you stood on a chair and told our caucus group that as a millennial you felt compelled to caucus for Bernie because “my generation is being handed a pile of shit.” No matter what anyone thought of your caucus pick, no one could disagree with your concise description of what your generation is being handed.
SANDERS LOCKS UP THE PANDHANDLER VOTE
“We’re definitely feeling the Bern,” said one of two panhandlers sitting outside of the Comet, looking at the hour-long line to get into Century Ballroom on caucus day.
POPULISTS VIBES AND PANTSUITS
You were sitting alone in the center of a precinct split 5 to 1 in favor of Bernie Sanders. Early afternoon sun filtered through the stained glass and bounced off your blue blazer, warming its sharp shoulder pads, revealing tiny frayed threads like fine fur all over it. You were the sole undecided caucus-goer in this group. Considering the pantsuit, it seemed like you’d surely be in the tank for Hillary. But the light, in concert with the populist vibes of caucusing, revealed your blazer’s secret Bernie-like qualities. You could go either way. When the Bernie supporters and the Hillary supporters traded off speaking for their candidate, you quickly grabbed the pen to write down your candidate of choice. Why? You said, “Hillary seems more willing to compromise. Bernie and his supporters don’t.”
OUR NEIGHBORS TO THE NORTH
As the acting precinct captain in the International District did a second count to make sure the numbers were correctly tallied (17 to 5 for Sanders, BTW), you and your adolescent son sidled up to our table. “Do you live in this precinct?” someone asked you. “No,” you replied, “we’re just here to observe.” A beat followed. “We’re from Canada.” Everyone cooed and smiled. And blushed a little. You just had to see how backward our process is, even at its best, eh?