Contact CU Independent Opinion Staff Writer Hayla Wong at hayla.wong@colorado.edu.
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Like many of my millennial peers, I tend towards apathy when it comes to politics. I’ve always believed that no president can have enough influence on the country to directly affect my quality of life. This presidential election season, however, that is no longer the case. As I am a registered democrat in Boulder, I figured I’d do my part as a citizen and caucus for the Democratic nominee for president on Super Tuesday.
Frankly, all I knew about caucuses came from a high school government class, which meant that I know very little about caucuses, but still remember that Zachary Taylor died from bad cream and cherries. I went into this experience a blank slate with very low expectations, and it’s a very good thing I kept those standards low because taking part in this form of democratic engagement killed my spirit for participating in the democratic process. Allow me to explain.
As I drove up to the venue and saw all the red tail lights of traffic, I considered pulling a U-turn and not even going. After all, how much does my vote really count for? But I knew it was my civic duty to just give it a shot. I barely found a parking spot, and shuffled over to Centennial Middle School to support my candidate.
Of my few expectations, the idea that I would just waltz right into the building and find myself a seat in an auditorium was immediately dashed once I caught view of the school. A huge line of people wrapped almost entirely around a baseball field. I joined the end of that line and kissed my evening goodbye.
I spent the next hour eavesdropping on the conversations around me and being overly frustrated at the woman in line in front of me who was drafting a long email on her phone so diligently that she was too wrapped up in that to notice the line moving up and leaving a huge gap ahead of us. I passive aggressively slipped past her until she’d notice and would resume her place in front of me, only for this infuriating process to repeat itself again and yet again. Someone started a “Bernie” chant but that died out before it even got started. The mood in the line was anything but stoked about this election process.
By 7:00 p.m. my body temperature and my spirits were dropping, and dropping fast. I held onto hope though. I was two-thirds around the fence and could see where other caucusers were entering the warmth of the middle school. My eavesdropping at this point taught me that caucuses were not always like this in ye olde times. Instead, people would gather in houses, but the ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act) forced caucuses into public schools to accommodate physical barriers.
And in recent years, caucuses have been confined to only a few locations around Boulder. By the looks of the line, which by now had stretched behind the school beyond sight, this system has some flaws. One woman exclaimed, “They really messed up here.”
A police car near the entrance of the school went down the line of parked cars giving them tickets. What a great way to mobilize voters and keep them engaged, and a cheap way for the police department to make money.
At 7:30 p.m., I was so close to the entrance. A caucus organizer came out and announced to our part of the line that the voting process was starting and that she wasn’t sure if we’d get our votes in. The line was still wrapped all the way around the baseball field and behind the building. Soon, I was inside and being handed a small white form on which I was told to write my first and last name. A form of identification was not required. I registered at my designated table and was told to go find precinct 819.
Precinct 819 was located in a small gym which was also being used by two other precincts. I joined my glob of other 819-ers just as a concerned woman was expressing to the precinct leader that she didn’t want us to vote until everyone had gotten in. When I had been standing in line outside I had felt strongly about everyone being able to cast their vote and exercise their right to democracy, but by the time I was actually inside and at the caucus, I didn’t care about those other votes — I wanted to leave.
I’ve got to say, this was the most disorganized event I have ever attended. When we took the preliminary vote for Democratic presidential nominee, we merely had to raise our white papers for the candidate we supported and the district leaders would count us. This left huge — yuuuge! — room for error as people kept their hands up even after being counted, which could have easily thrown off the count. It seemed like I could also hop over to other precincts and spread the Bern over there as well, because there was no way to keep track of people.
I turned to a young guy next to me who turned out to be another CU student and he shared the same sentiment of dismay over the complete lack of organization and legitimacy of this voting process. Another man who arrived a little later very aptly described the scene as “the biggest shit show,” and when someone else exclaimed how disorganized it was, the same man sassily muttered, “Nowhere in here is there any organization.”
I stood in the back as Bernie supporters and Hillary supporters faced off over which candidate is the better Democratic nominee. A passionate young woman voiced her support for Sanders, citing his education funding policies as her biggest reason to support him because of all her student debt. I think many of us can relate. Clinton supporters looked anything but comfortable during this confrontation and to me, this pow-wow only dampened and divided the energy in the room. But other speakers were able to bring people back together with a call for democrats to support whichever candidate becomes the nominee in order to protect our overall interests.
By 8:15, I was itching to leave. The precinct leaders eventually decided that we wouldn’t do a final count and instead, we were to write the name of our candidate on the back of our registration slips and hand them in, you know, like a primary! I did that and bailed so fast.
This entire ordeal left me with a couple of insights into the democratic process:
1) Caucuses, as they are now, are a barrier to the equality of votes. Because of the time frame allocated for voting, some people with conflicting responsibilities are screwed out of their vote. The way that precincts have been consolidated into only a few venues creates chaos and turns voters off from even participating in the first place.
When I was only halfway around that baseball field, I saw senior citizens making their way around the fence to join the back of the line. If the caucusing line and standing during the vote was physically taxing on me, I can’t imagine what it was like for those with physical limits. Clearly, the ADA changes in caucuses did not help in that way. On top of that, the disorganization of the voting process gave me the feeling that it was all made up, that maybe my vote didn’t even matter. It was as if caucuses were specifically designed to keep people from voting!
2) For all the passion millennials have on the Internet for presidential candidates, very little of that passion was brought to the caucus. I mean, seriously. Even children whose parents dragged them to the caucus had more spirit for voting. I would estimate that the average age of voters at my specific caucusing site was mid-50s. Armchair activism only spreads awareness; we need to act. Get out there and caucus your heart out!
3) Yet as much as this horribly frustrating and joke of an experience gave me voting PTSD, I will have to say that it made me feel involved and engaged for once. In another speech at my precinct gathering, I was reminded not to take my right to vote lightly. After voting, I kept a close eye on the poll numbers coming in, especially in Boulder. I wanted to see that my actions be transferred into results that have a nationwide impact. And I did.
Will I caucus again? Yes. But will I enjoy myself? If it is anything like last night, absolutely not.
