Mrs. Cliff Goes To The County Convention

Religion and politics are two subjects people generally avoid in polite company. Why? I think it's mostly because we have a hard time behaving ourselves when it comes to things we feel strongly about and then there are bad feelings. It is a real shame.

It is a shame that we can't respect each other's right to an opinion, and a voice. It is a shame when winning an argument/political race becomes more important than the people involved.

I spent 12 hours yesterday at the Denton County Democratic Convention as a delegate for Barack Obama. I stayed to the bitter end, mostly because I wanted to learn how the whole process works. I ended up acting as our precinct's chair when the official chair did not show up. Because of this unofficial position I felt a responsibility to represent the interests of both sides, not just the one I supported.

Throughout the long day there was confusion more than once about the processes involved in seating delegates (deciding who actually gets to vote on matters including which delegates get to go on to the state convention) and there were a few glitches. Most people took it in stride. But I was disturbed at the manner a select few chose to comport themselves. There were some things going on, in my group and with others at the convention, some "don't ask, don't tell" sort of positions taken to promote preferred candidates, that bothered me. To me, the line between strategy and backroom dealing got pretty thin.

I felt uncomfortable. Sneaky. Following a reversal in instructions about assigning delegate status, I went to bat for the opposing candidate's side within our paired precincts to make sure we, the majority, were not unfairly taking advantage of a mistake made which ended up strengthening our position at their expense.

Shortly after, as I was talking to one of the women who supported the other candidate, I inadvertently made a stupid remark that colored the rest of the day's events. This woman was decidedly not happy with one particular man's behavior and attitude, and I blurted out that because of it he was probably afraid their side would vote for me and then he wouldn't get to be a state delegate. Her eyes started to gleam and I realized that she hadn't considered the possibility. I quickly told her that I would be informing my side what they (the other candidate's supporters) were now contemplating and then let the chips fall where they may. Well, the chips flew.

My compatriots did not appreciate my indiscretion. The man in question, who had taken it upon himself to orchestrate the strategy for our candidate (which was to make sure we'd have enough votes for both the delegate and alternate slots to the state convention) said I had jeopardized the strategy... and then wailed in frustration that he had been working it for my benefit. I was stunned.

I didn't think there was any way that our candidate wouldn't get both slots, as we were a definite majority, and I couldn't figure out the sheer hostility aimed my way. Then it dawned on me that they might think I had undercut this man, purposefully or out of stupidity-- neither or which is flattering to me -- and in so doing I had the potential to become the delegate to state, leaving him as the alternate. I never thought that would actually happen. I was pretty certain it would work out as originally planned because of our majority lead and because he had the most support among our group. But then I made it worse by suggesting we vote by signed ballot rather than a roll call, so that every vote had an equal weight (rather than the last voters having the advantage of being able to swing the decision). I know, dumb move. I just felt that regardless of the outcome, we needed to work within the rules to make sure both sides had a fair shot. If the roles were reversed, my side would certainly have resented having anything less.

Obviously, I should never have made the comment to the opposing side. And once I had said it, I could have neglected to tell my group. Either way I might have avoided the additional drama and bad feelings. But, unfortunately, that is not who I am. Besides an almost tragic lack of self-editing, I have a tremendous desire, almost need, to play by the rules. And it isn't always popular.

Maybe I am naive. But isn't the whole point supposed to be that each side has a fair shot at the prize? Can't we dignify our opponents with the opportunities we would want for ourselves? Must we take an eye for an eye?

In the end, it all worked out. By popular consent and according to the rules, we ended up voting by roll call. So of course our side won both slots to the state convention. And I will be going, as an alternate, as planned.

But I still feel sick about the whole thing.