The view from the Nevada delegates’ seats during Bernie Sanders’s speech the first night of the convention.
photo/carol cizauskas
by caro l ci z aus k as
Disunited states a Bernie sanders supporter describes her frustrating experiences at the Democratic national convention Last summer, I shot out of my computer chair, ran into the living room and shouted with joy to my husband, “Bernie is running for president!” I didn’t believe then that Bernie Sanders had a shot at winning, but supporting underdogs was my specialty. I had assumed until this time I would vote for the Democratic favorite, even though I had problems with Hillary Clinton because of what I saw as her hawkishness, her conservatism in social and economic justice, her lack of credibility, and her lack of good character. A month later, I began volunteering fulltime for Bernie’s election. When he spoke of health care for all as a basic human right, free public college education, and moving the economy to a level playing field, my
heart sang. And I began to believe he had a real chance of winning. In October, I was hired as the first Bernie staff in Northern Nevada and worked in the campaign until shortly after the February caucuses. I then ran for and was elected to the position of delegate to the national convention to continue fighting on the right side of history. I campaigned on my experience working for Bernie and on a change in me: I had become “Bernie or bust.” I could no longer consider voting for Hillary because I had seen unfairness in the national, state and local Democratic parties mirrored in the way she was campaigning. Clinton’s debate behavior of ignoring time constraints, her continuing protests that the money she was receiving from
mega-corporations would somehow not buy her as president (even though she had already been supporting them through her neoliberal policies) and her ongoing conservative militarism—all these turned me from being able to vote for her. In the national party, denial of requests for additional debates and disenfranchisement of voters caused concern for Bernie supporters like me. The state party’s dismal behavior at the Nevada convention toward Sanders delegates created many Bernie or Busters. And in several county Democratic Party chapters, I repeatedly saw unethical favoritism toward Hillary. I had also been changed by Senator Sanders. At 54, I began to believe for the first time in the sacredness of my power as an American citizen and voter. I began to learn that standing for social justice was not only morally right, but was to be fought for. I began to understand that I would never again chip away at my soul by voting for a lesser evil. I knew from here forward, I would vote only for moral candidates who would fight for justice. In all that, I could never vote for Hillary Clinton.
Day 1: religious corruption Despite the majority of mainstream media coverage of the Democratic National Convention as a love fest for Hillary with delegates thrilled about the first female presidential nominee of a major U.S. political party, the convention was marked by
dissension, protests and a staunch unwillingness of many Bernie delegates to fall in line with the party’s relentless calls for unified support of Hillary. On that first day, when we delegates sat in our section a dozen or so rows up from the floor, I thrilled as I saw the vertical Nevada sign marking our area. My soul still hoped for fairness and a way for Bernie to be nominated. And no matter the outcome, I believed the convention would proceed fairly as a platform for both candidates until the nomination Tuesday night would promote only one winner. Those hopes were drowned by the tone set in, of all things, the opening prayer. “We have an opportunity, oh God,” Rev. Cynthia Hale said, “to give undeniable evidence of our commitment to justice and equality by nominating Hillary Rodham Clinton as our candidate.” As the Hillary delegates began cheering, we Bernie delegates began booing. Shocked, I couldn’t believe the blatancy of this corruption of religion into politics. “The prayer at the beginning soured the entire experience,” Bernie delegate Alexis Salt from Las Vegas said. “We were trying to have an open mind against everything our inner voices were telling us. We were trying to be optimistic. The message [with the prayer] was: ‘This is our house. These are our rules. We’re going to elect Hillary, and there’s not a damn thing any of you can do about it.’ … It was shoved down our throats: ‘We’re not even going to pretend we weren’t going to cheat. We’re not going to apologize.’ We knew we were screwed then.”
Disunited states continueD on page 14 08.11.16 | RN&R
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