Chapter 1: Delegate Dan Recap

The months of April through September are documented in vivid detail – first with emails and then on this webpage. In summary: in April, I decided to run for the position of delegate to represent 11th Congressional District of California at the Democratic National Convention in Denver. Many of you got a personal email from me asking for your support and your vote. In a single day, single polling place caucus race that featured more than twenty candidates, I won, due in large part to my family members, friends, former students and their family members showing up to vote for me.

The position of delegate is one of the most bizarre assignments within our civic system. Each party has separate rules and by-laws, but they are ultimately similar: In becoming a delegate, a citizen from within that party is required to pledge to cast their vote for a specific candidate at the Convention. However, delegates can change their minds at any point thereafter – for any reason – prior to casting their vote. Each party allocates the number of delegates to individual congressional districts based on population and the results from the primary. In 2008, my congressional district was awarded four delegate positions: two for Hillary Clinton and two for Barack Obama.

In making the decision to run for delegate, I decided to represent – and pledge my support for – Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton. I did this, primarily, for two reasons:

First, and foremost, in order to go to the Convention, I needed to win. I reside in – what must be – one of the most gerrymandered congressional districts in the country. Somehow, my aunt who lives in Livermore, the city directly east of my home city of Pleasanton could not vote for me, but my brother, who lives an hour east in Stockton, could. Pleasanton and Stockton (and Morgan Hill) are in California Congressional District 11. Livermore is not. Both the Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton caucus races to elect delegates took place on the same day at the same time – but not in the same place. The Barack Obama caucus took place in the city of Tracy, which is located forty minutes east of my hometown, and my voter base. The Hillary Clinton caucus race took place in the city of Dublin which is directly North of Pleasanton. It took most of my voters less than ten minutes to drive to the poll and vote for me that Sunday.

My second reason requires more explanation.

If you think back to eight months ago, it appeared as if the Democratic Party might tear itself apart even before the Republicans had their chance. In what had begun as a civil contest, political barbs were now appearing in higher frequency and growing ferocity. It appeared that neither Clinton nor Obama would gain the number of elected delegate votes necessary to secure the nomination prior to the Convention. At twelve letters, the word “superdelegate” entered common conversation as the longest four letter word in the history of the English language. To make matters worse, on April 3rd, when asked about Barack Obama's growing lead of pledged delegate votes at the Democratic National Convention, Hillary Clinton declared "There is no such thing as a pledged delegate." The thing is, she wasn’t unjustified. The chaotic picture she painted was just something our modern political system was not accustomed to. Democratic principle dictates that the candidate who wins the most votes should earn the position. However, in a system in which Delegates are selected and can change their mind, such is not necessarily the case.

Because this election was so close, because both sides had dedicated supporters and substantial resources, in the battle to decide who would win the Democratic Party’s nomination for President of the United States, two frightening and very real possibilities emerged: (1) The winner would be decided by political puppet masters in a smoky back room instead of by the voters. (2) A fight might erupt on the Convention floor and the Democratic Party – along with its chances of winning in November – would shatter.

As an individual who taught high school Civics and American History for ten years, I felt trained for this moment. If we were to revert to the brawls of yesteryear, then I wanted in. Not to exert my own agenda, but to do my best to make sure some form of sanity was preserved in an imperfect system.

On June 3rd the final primaries took place in Montana and South Dakota. Barack Obama had won the national popular vote and held the overall delegate lead. On June 7th, Hillary Clinton conceded and endorsed Barack Obama. Yet heading into the Convention at the end of August, there was talk that Hillary Clinton and her supporters would continue their battle into the Convention for the nomination. Prior to my arrival in Denver, letters and emails signed by die hard supporters began to occupy my mailbox and a substantial portion of my email inbox. While in Denver, I was approached several times by Clinton organizers seeking support of petitions, protests, and other extremist measures on the floor of the Convention. Can you imagine the toll that would have wrought on the Democratic Party? On the country?

Allow me to state this plainly: If Hillary Clinton had won the national primary – total delegate votes or even the overall popular vote – I would have made sure my vote went to her. But she didn’t win. Barack Obama did. He won both the delegate count and popular vote. Given this democratic mandate, I arrived in Denver on August 25th ready and willing to cast my vote for Barack Obama. And I did.

Although this was my single-most important responsibility in attending the Democratic National Convention, it was only a small fraction of an awesome experience. In the last week of August, the city of Denver became one gigantic, vibrant mass of humanity. It was as if the entire city was breathing and exploding with excitement all hours of the day. I had to share what I was experiencing. Using the screen name “Delegate Dan” I set up this website in the hope of accomplishing just that.

Some of my former students, now college students, made the drive all the way from California to Denver to be a part of the experience. I was able to get them into some parties and into Invesco Field for Obama’s acceptance speech. I met some incredible people. I heard some incredible speeches. I shook some powerful hands. I talked to reporters. I did some radio interviews. I was seen on CNN a lot and on The Colbert Report once. It was hard to sleep and so I slept very little. And I had an incredible time.

It was the Friday morning after Obama’s speech at Invesco Field that Sarah Palin was announced as the Republican Vice Presidential Candidate. It was a shrewd and calculated move targeted at earning the votes of disenfranchised Hillary Clinton supporters, galvanizing the religious base of the Republican Party and stifling the awesome energy generated by the Democrats in Denver.

I remember riding from the hotel back to the Airport when I heard the name Sarah Palin for the first time. The van I was in was full with other delegates from around the country. Everyone in the car was perplexed by this pick. They thought it changed the playing field. The overwhelming enthusiasm from the night before somehow seemed to have disappeared – in its place was timid silence. “Who the hell is Sarah Palin?” I thought to myself and “How could she have done this?”

That’s one of the things about Democrats that I can’t stand. Often times instead of acting on our fears and innovating, carving out and setting forth on a new path, we remain frozen in worry, in a self-induced state of paralysis. We brace ourselves for the inevitable Republican low blow instead of rising in the name of progress and sanity to defend, throw counter punches and deliver the knockout that the moment and history calls for.

I was physically and emotionally exhausted and now a growing sense of claustrophobia began to swell within me and itch. In that van, at that moment I found myself feeling fired up and ready to explode. The date was Friday, August 28th. The fun was over. Now there was work to do and a fight to be won. It was a feeling that would stay with me until Tuesday, November 4th.

Continue To Chapter 2