For the last nine days I've been holed up in Iowa working on a web documentary series about the primary elections and volunteering for Barack Obama in Council Bluffs, a quasi-Republican town on the western part of the state near Omaha, Nebraska. It's almost 2am and I've just returned from Des Moines, where my team of amazing interns -- Megan Rollins (Senior, University of Washington), Jessica Balady (Junior, USC) and Jillian Feinberg (Junior, USC) -- and I stood in the front row while the most inspiring man I've ever encountered delivered his historic victory speech. After almost a year of campaigning and hoping, I was able to shake his hand. On the two-hour drive back to the hotel I was mulling over what unique perspective I could bring to the coverage of this baffling and quixotic caucus process. I decided that when I look back on this trip, I'll always remember it as an exciting (and often hilarious) political awakening that likely represents the experience of many young Americans participating for the first time this election season. So ladies, this is for you ...
Dear Megan, Jessica & Jillian:
I've only got six or seven years on you guys, but when I was finishing college I had a political moment in time of my own. It was the first Tuesday of November, 2000, and I remembering feeling that if I could just stay up for one more hour, Al Gore might pull out a win. But by 10am, chaos prevailed and I finally crashed, hoping I'd wake up and George W. Bush would have retreated to his Crawford ranch indefinitely.
In the years it took W to launch an unjust war, ruin the value of the dollar, pollute the environment, dismantle family planning programs, appoint two crusty conservative justices to the Supreme Court and destroy America's international reputation, I also changed quite a bit for the worse. The remnants of an idealistic Clinton-era political science student who wanted to do something big and meaningful for her country lurked beneath a surface that became frustrated, cynical and borderline apathetic.
But in 2004, when I was a reporter at The Chicago Tribune, I was given an assignment to hit up a rally at Manny's deli, a major political hangout of Mayor Daley's and anyone else blowing through the Windy City. On the docket that morning were Senator John Edwards of North Carolina, who was running for president, and Illinois Senate contender Barack Obama.
Barack-star was just getting his legs then, but he was already magic. As he did to John Kerry later that year at the Democratic National Convention, his prowess usurped anything remotely presidential about Edwards. I left the event and picked up "Dreams From my Father," which I devoured in two days.
Tonight, as we stood five feet in front of him while the crowd chanted his name, I was reminded of one of my favorite snippets of "Dreams." It was just after 9/11 and Barack was meeting with an advisor who had been championing his political future, when abruptly his support pivoted. The advisor told him he'd never win another election with a name that sounds like "Osama."
All four of our voices were among those chanting this evening. With each shout I felt like we were stomping on linear people who can't see past the obvious or function outside the constraints of group think and the status quo.
A month ago, you guys were consumed with thoughts about football games and finals and what to do when you graduate. These things are all important in your lives. But this week, you transcended the typical. You boldly packed your bags, sacrificing New Year's Eve, the Rose Bowl game, your boyfriends and family, your comfort zone. Instead, you froze your asses off while walking door to door in a town you've never heard of, passionately speaking to people you've never met with drastically different lifestyles. You didn't know much about politics, but you poured over the history of Iowa elections. You met Bill Clinton, John Edwards, and Barack and Michelle. You asked yourselves important questions: Is this process an effective and fair system? Should it continue into the future? What do I expect of my government and my generation when it is our turn to govern?
I'm always dishing out those important intern lessons (although, it might be best if you disregard the dating ones). Here's Lesson No. 672: Taking initiative and standing up for what you believe in is what distinguishes true leadership. This week, you led by example.
Everyone told Barack he was crazy, yet there he was tonight: impossibly black, impossibly young, impossibly inexperienced, impossibly winning.
I'm sitting in the lobby of our hotel room while you guys sleep, reflecting on our adventures and not quite ready to lose the magic of our moment. We were attacked by vicious dogs while driving on icy roads trying to deliver caucus information to likely supporters. We subsisted on a staple diet of Subway sandwiches, McFlurrys and Belgian waffles. We managed to make our sad CD collection (John Mayer, Justin Timberlake & Feist) last through grueling road trips to Des Moines, Sioux City and Storm Lake. We trashed the rental car. We found the only cute boys in Omaha on New Year's Eve. We over-stimulated an under-populated town called Moville with our giddy giggles after we took our picture with President Clinton. We never did figure out why there's such a disproportionate number of tanning salons in Iowa given the ratio of pasty to orange people. Much like the logic behind the caucus, I suppose some things will remain a mystery.
At a time when young people are criticized for never delivering on the promise of their activism, you represented. I am so proud of you. And now it's time for us to export the momentum we achieved here in Iowa back home to California, where we will not be chastised as out-of-towners in Ugg boots.
Love,
Maegan