The Precinct Caucus: A Story of How I Got “Activated”
On March 26, 2016, three years ago to the day as I write this, I woke up extra early and got gussied up. I was going to do something I had never done before: participate in a presidential caucus. Having come from a closed primary state, where even for the primary we had to stand in long lines to vote, and register as a particular party far in advance of voting, I was excited to participate in this more open, more transparent process. So excited in fact, I did something a year earlier that I would never have previously done as it was way out of my comfort zone. I volunteered to run the entire caucus for the city of Normandy Park, Washington. My first ever caucus, and, with help from other volunteers, I had planned the whole dang thing. Let me back up to tell you how I found myself in front of hundreds of people with a microphone in my hand, giving directions on something I had never even done myself.
This wasn’t the first time I had become politically involved. I ran the largest anti-war website in New Mexico during the run up to the invasion of Iraq. I protested, wrote letters, called my representatives and finally cried as nothing I did seemed to stop the war machine from killing innocent people in Bush’s “shock and awe” campaign. I remember clearly the politicians and other leaders who stood against this war of aggression and committed then to work my tail end off if one in particular ever ran for president. I pretty much checked out of politics after 2002 though, wracked with feelings of betrayal and helplessness.
Fast forward more than a decade, Senator Bernie Sanders from Vermont announces his candidacy. And not only was he on the right side of that issue, but he was on the right side of pretty much every other issue that mattered to me. “Well, hell,” I thought, “better make do on my promise.”
I went to Bernie’s first rally in Seattle, begrudgingly, as I had family in town and I hate going to listen to politicians ramble on. However, I felt if I didn’t go he would probably have 10 people in the crowd (he was too “radical” you see, that was what the media was saying) and I wanted to make sure there were at least 11 people in the crowd. Never have I been so wrong. The crowd was so large that there was no room in the stadium. Thousands of people, me included, had to mill about outside praying that they would get the speakers working so that we could hear Bernie. I wasn’t alone in believing we could change the world. “That settles it,” I thought, “I am going to do 150% of what I can do to ensure Bernie’s platform comes to pass.”
A few months after that, in a small town south of Seattle, South Puget Sound for Bernie had a meeting. I was so green at one point I raised my hand and asked “How does one become a superdelegate for Bernie? Because that is what I want to do!” Oh, Georgia, you sweet summer child…
After being laughed at a bit, one woman said: “Go to your LD meeting and become a PCO.” What language was she speaking? Did I accidentally go to an acronyms anonymous meeting instead of a Bernie meeting? Seeing my confusion, she told me that the Democrats meet regularly in Legislative District organizations and the Precinct Committee Officers are members of those organizations. I won’t bore you with more details about PCOs, since you probably either know the details or don’t, and if you don’t you’ll probably stop reading if I delve too far into it.
In the months that followed, I would go to every LD meeting, get appointed as a PCO, take all the caucus trainings I could, and volunteer to run the caucus. I also did a few other things like phone banking and canvassing for Bernie. In fact, I did so many other things that the Bernie campaign asked me to be a super volunteer for Bernie in Philly — and I got to drive around Susan Sarandon and Danny Glover. NBD. That is a whole ‘nother story.
Back to the precinct caucus. Leading up to it, I went overboard with planning for it. I wanted it to be perfect. We would have childcare, a local cafe would donate coffee (thank you Auntie Irene’s), we would raise money to more than cover the cost of renting the school (Marvista Elementary, where my daughter is now in 1st grade), we would make sure that every attendee felt heard, that it would end on time, and no one would feel the process was unfair. And it was a success. People thanked me and the other volunteers who put on the event. There was a buzz of excitement for the next step of the process, where people would go to the LD Caucus as delegates for their candidate and we all went home. The data entry was a pain, but worth it. I just got to meet all my neighbors, discuss politics, elect delegates to represent me from my precinct and know with confidence my vote counted.
The drawbacks to that caucus were that many people who couldn’t attend weren’t aware of the existence of an absentee ballot called a surrogate affidavit. Both campaigns tried hard to remedy that, but I felt the state party didn’t really advertise that option — perhaps due to the extra work it requires from state party staff.
The good news is that in 2020, you won’t need to attend a caucus in person, thanks to the Caucus Improvement Plan [read the plan here].
There will be multiple options for absentee voting: online, as well as a way to print out ballots and return them. If, for any reason, you can’t make the caucus, your vote still counts.
A few weeks after the precinct caucuses, we held the LD Caucus. It was a giant sh*t show, in almost every one of the 49 LDs across the state, and my LD was no exception. The secretary was an HOUR AND A HALF late with the sign-in forms. We had a thousand people waiting in a high school wondering what the eff was going on. When she finally showed, there was mass confusion due to a last minute rule “reinterpretation” that an alternate could be a delegate if a delegate from a different precinct didn’t show. This caused fits for the credential committee, which took hours to sort it out. Many people didn’t get out of their LD caucus until well after 9pm. It was a complete nightmare and not at all like the precinct caucus. Then we had the county convention, which was also a nightmare for various reasons. And then the CD caucus, to select the national delegates for each candidate. The CD caucus was also very long, but at least not terribly contentious. But still unlike the precinct caucus which was four hours and friendly.
You may be asking why I’m writing this article. Allow me to get to my point. We need to save the precinct caucus. Soon the Washington State Democratic Central Committee will be voting whether to eliminate just the precinct caucus. Just the precinct caucus. Yes, you heard right. The nice neighborhood caucus that lasted the least amount of time, was the easiest, is the one on the chopping block. The rest remain, no matter how the vote in April goes.
Why is this important? Grassroots organizers like me, as demonstrated in my story, got “activated” to participate in the party via the precinct caucus. If we voted via a mail-in ballot, I would never have bothered to go to my LD meetings and eventually become a State Committee Representative, nor would I have learned the tools that helped me launch an effort to get Universal Healthcare in Washington State. At the first LD meeting I went to, I joked to the another young woman (it was also her first meeting) that we had accidentally gone to the 33rd LD Republicans meeting. Everyone was quite a bit older than us and white. She panicked for a second until I laughed. The party needs new people; it needs the caucus to bring those new people in.
I know we may have to agree to disagree on this subject, as many people have made up their minds. But I had to tell my story in the hopes that we realize how big of an impact this could have for the future of the Democratic Party in Washington State. Thank you for reading!
