The Caucus- 2/07/08

“I wish I’d had a locker like that,” I said as we crossed through the big heavy metal doors and walked into Mann Middle School. The lockers were tall, wide and purple, my favorite color. Our son walked in the middle of my husband and I, grasping my right and my husband’s left as we looked for our precinct location. We were early, but I couldn’t bear to sit and flip between CNN, FOXNEWS and MSNBC all night while simultaneously looking at election returns online.

We negotiated with our son as we walked through the schools maze to find our caucus location. We knew it was later than he was used to being out, and he was going to have to cooperate but would be rewarded with games, snacks and a juice box. We don’t get out often; it is just easier to be home most of the time.

We made it through the maze of the 1950’s style one level school. The speckled tiles squeaked under our feet as we gazed around corners and classrooms with confusion. Finally, we found the school office. It was busy with administration collating joyfully at 6:20 in the evening. They told us that the democrats were meeting in the cafeteria and pointed us in that direction.

We walked through the cold, outdoor courtyard towards the cafeteria where “Clinton” and “Obama” posters were proudly displayed on the outside windows. I told my husband that I worried that some wouldn’t be able to find the location, but he responded that we were able to find it so they would, too.

We went through the doors and into the cafeteria and were immediately surrounded by the feeling of the warm air. The smell of lunch and stale mop water lingered in the room. We were greeted by a smiling young goateed man who told us he was on the Obama side and introduced himself to us. He told my husband he looked familiar and they determined that they went to UCCS together but were unable to determine what class they shared. We walked around a half occupied table and sat on the empty bench.

It was just as I remembered from Middle School- a nicer version of a picnic table. Hand painted on wood and surrounding us were pictures that had types of food like “fruit” and “pizza.” A beautiful older woman with flowing, shoulder length silver hair smiled at us and started talking to me about her excitement about Obama. “I haven’t been so excited since I voted for John F. Kennedy,” she said. She tried to talk to my son but received no response. He is almost 7 and non-verbal. I could have explained it to her, but there are times when I just don’t feel like talking about autism. She must have had some idea, because she didn’t continue to question him as others sometimes do. She passed us a roll of stickers that said, “Obama,” if we wanted one. We applied them to our jackets and waited patiently.

We watched as others flowed through the door and found their side. A dramatic majority saw our Obama stickers and came to sit on our side of the room. An organizer walked through the room and separated us into precincts. We walked to our precinct and were greeted by a cute, short, Oompa-Loompa like woman who directed us to look through a packet and find our names to sign in. She had a handout with rules, but explained that she only made 14 as only 7 showed up to caucus in 2000. I didn’t live here in 2000, I thought.

We took the rules back to the bench. My hands shook as I read the agenda and rules. For some reason elections make me very nervous and excited. This was my first caucus and although I read about the procedures online it was difficult to conceptualize what would actually happen. The temperature was rising as the room filled with enthusiasm.

A woman with long, black and lightly dreadlocked hair smiled at me and said, “I am so excited!.” “Me too-I bet this is how some people feel about the Superbowl,” I said. She grabbed my hands and showed me her jacket, which was for a NFL team and laughed. She seemed very familiar and we connected immediately. I know I’ve seen her around but couldn’t determine from where.

We took a seat and I gave Xander a piece of gum. “Please be patient,” I pleaded. “I don’t know how much fun this would be for any child his age, but it is our responsibility to be here.”

It was seven o’clock, and caucus was called to order.