perspectives
Party Politics
An LMU senior goes to the Democratic National Convention as a California delegate.
By Matthew Moret '09
Denver may be a quiet city most of the time, but for a week this past August, the city erupted in frenzy. From August 25-28, I was part of the Democratic National Convention, a happening that takes place every four years, but rarely with as much enthusiasm.
I have always been interested in being a convention delegate, as other kids dream of being famous baseball players. This past February, I decided to do it. The process seemed easy enough. Candidates fill out a form online. They also must show up at a designated location on a specified day with as many supporters as they can drag along. Then each candidate makes a minute-long speech and everyone votes.
But things quickly became challenging: There were two slots available and 15 people running for them. The caucus was held on a sweltering Sunday in May, and although I was able to get a decent number of people there, I lost. Still, that did not deter me. I called the chair of the California Democratic Party and asked if I could be appointed a delegate. That took some convincing, but I was persistent. I was chosen to be one of 49 youth delegates representing the California Democratic Party.
Experiencing the Democratic National Convention from the floor of Denver's Pepsi Center was simply overpowering. I volunteered at the 2000 Democratic National Convention in Los Angeles, but this was different. Primary colors of red, white and blue filled the eyes. During the major speeches, the floor was like the 405 Freeway at rush hour: so crammed with people that the only movement possible was the rudimentary act of lifting and lowering a sign. The sound of the crowd was like the ocean: hushed in times of intense attention and thunderous in times of raucous exhilaration. The Pepsi Center was overwhelming at the calmest of times, awe-inspiring at the most exciting of times. The center seemed to be infused with excitement. The feeling was electric, and there was something intangible in the air. Dare I say, hope?
On television, the crowd at the convention seemed to be simply a large, uniform mass of people. However, as a part of that mass I can say that it was anything but. I witnessed individuals. I'm not talking about people who were wearing the crazy get-ups you saw on CNN. I'm talking about the delegate at the back who snuck his 5-year-old daughter onto the floor to witness history; and the two women a couple of rows in front of me who were only half-heartedly clapping because they were still bitter that their candidate lost; and the elderly African American man at the end of my row who could not stop crying, repeating to himself as if it were his mantra, "I never thought it could happen."
The Democratic National Convention was not just those two or so hours of television that could be seen for four nights. It was a four-day festival of symposiums, concerts and, yes, speeches. The convention was as exhausting as it was fulfilling, as crazy as it was important, and as unique as it was breathtaking. It was history in the making.
Matthew Moret is a theology major who has been active in politics since the age of 2, when he first walked precincts with his parents. He was a delegate for Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton at the 2008 Democratic National Convention.