Legalizing democracy: the 2012 Iowa Green Party Convention

Behold the pin I bought for $1 at the Iowa Green Party 2012 Convention on Saturday.

That’s right: the Iowa Green Party convention — probably the most low key and intimate political convention of the year.

As a registered Green, I received what could be considered the party’s presidential primary material a few weeks ago: a ballot, self-addressed stamped envelope, and little notice about the upcoming convention at the Iowa City Public Library. Aha! This, I thought, was a chance to become more involved with not only the Green Party but also our great democracy. Having never attended a political convention or political party function, I also considered it a new experience. Plus, the Green Presidential candidates would personally address the convention and party members would have the chance to ask questions. Holy schnikes — Presidential candidates I can talk to! This I had to see, so I walked to the library a little before one o’clock, the time when the candidate addresses were scheduled to begin.

Attending the convention, though, meant breaking my boycott of the ICPL. I had probably not been in the public library since 200_, way before it was rebuilt. (Once, during the sweltering first week of classes, I used its temporary home during the rebuilding process as an air conditioned refuge. That does not count, though.) The boycott was personal and that is all I am going to say. Anyway, I let bygones be bygones and entered what I thought was the main entrance on Linn Street, where the old main entrance was. Instead of seeing the library open up to my right, all I saw was a long corridor. What the…? I was really confused; what I saw was completely different than what I always imagined. After snooping around and throwing away a discarded cigarette carton I found on the sidewalk (yes, I pick up litter; you can thank me later), I walked into Meeting Room A where the convention was being held.

Much like the library, I really had no clue what to expect from the convention. That was another reason why I decided to go: to see for myself all my fellow Greens. I expected, though, a largish group of people — 50 or so. However, that assumption was quickly crushed. The doors to the meeting room were wide open and when I walked in I saw only 11 people. Eleven! I counted after I sat in the mostly empty rows of chairs. Two women sat at the central table and the others were arranged in a semi-circle. After a couple minutes, a man who was deeply tanned and weathered like a hitch hiker mumbled a few confusing thoughts and left. After being quietly asked to sign in (the meeting started at 11 o’clock) I sat and listened to one of the women at the front table address the group. I soon realized that she was the Rosanne Barr representative from Minnesota.

That’s right: Rosanne Bar is seeking the Green Party nomination for President. Let that thought marinade for a while.

Anyway, there were a total of 10 Iowa Greens there. However, everyone was nice and welcoming. I took notes, which seemed to put everyone else on alert. They asked if I was with “the media.” Nope. When I told them I was taking personal notes regarding the meeting and what people were saying about the candidates (which I was) they seemed skeptical. I wondered if they suspected me of being a FBI operative or something. The FBI or CIA inserted a covert informant into a local group of anarchists sometime in ’07 or ’08, and everybody at the convention seemed to know each other, so I am sure they were a little leery of me, an outsider.

So who are my fellow Iowa Greens? Mostly middle-aged and older. Except for the daughter of the chairwoman — who looked like she was still in high school — I was the youngest person there. Pretty pathetic, huh? It was an alternative group and everyone had their own style of dress, though most subscribed to that silver-haired naturalist look that seems popular among older folks in IC. No one seemed to be overly aggressive or angry, which is probably a testament to the party’s current standing. One woman asked me what my most important issues were and I told her the environment and grassroots democracy. She asked the same thing to another man sitting nearby, who she labeled as “the deep thinker of the group.” I cannot remember exactly what he said (I should have taken notes!) but it involved something about “the workers.” When he said that I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes.

So I sat and waited — and waited, and waited — for the presidential addresses. Jill Stein was somewhere in Michigan and could not find a place with Internet access, but Kent Mesplay was chilling at home in SoCal. Eventually he connected to the Google Hangout set up by the national party tech wizard in New York. There he was on the big screen at the front of the room — a Presidential candidate! He could see us and we could address him personally. Accustomed to hearing and reading stories about huge, bombastic campaign events focused on insulated and hurried candidates, it boggled my mind that Mesplay was able to talk to us. And after his time was up he decided to hang around and listen to Jill Stein whenever she addressed us…

Which felt like two hours later. The wait was maddening. Stein eventually found a Starbucks (very ironic, if you ask me) but it took forever to resolve technical difficulties. (In the meantime, Mesplay took additional questions. The chairwoman’s daughter ask him if he thought math should be taught to children.) When Stein finally came on, sitting in a booth with customer orders audible in the background, she spieled and took questions. She was bubbly, confident, and knowledgeable. Mesplay even chimed in and collaborated with her on one question.

I was amazed. It was refreshing to see political candidates act like adults.

After Stein finished, I thought about submitting my ballot and leaving. I was unsure whether Mesplay or Stein would be my number one candidate, which was another reason why I attended: I wanted to hear for myself what each had to say and be swayed one way or the other. Barr was always a distant third for me. I really did not care to see Rosanne but stuck around anyway to see her face on the big screen. The Barr rep called Rosanne on Skype and there she was sitting in her living room somewhere in Hawaii, grayed and — dare I say? — worldly. It was kind of disturbing. Yet, having watched her on TV when I was a kid, I was amazed she would be addressing our little group. On the wall behind her were Hawaiian-esque decorations. She kept picking up her laptop and moving from a chair to a couch and then back again. Once or twice while she addressed us and answered questions, the voice of a man in the background could be heard correcting her (a campaign manager, maybe?). She asked for everyone in the room to tell her “their most important issue” and everybody took their turn at the mic and spoke to her — except me. I stayed where I was, listened, and took notes. She was knowledgeable and critical, but her understanding of issues and possible solutions seemed below Mesplay and Stein’s level.

After Rosanne’s presentation, everyone marked their ballots and helped open the mailed ballots sent from all over the state. In total there were something like 37 ballots. Thirty-seven! (The Barr rep said, “Wow! You guys have a lot!”) At this point it was painfully clear why the Iowa Greens are not considered a party but a “non-party political organization.” Frankly, I am surprised they are even represented on the voter registration form at all.

After the initial vote was tallied, nobody knew how to weigh the rankings, where to cut-off the candidates with the least amount of votes, and how to distribute the cut-off votes. As I sat waiting for the final results, the party brass had a little powwow, discussing what to do. At one point someone asked the Barr rep what she thought. “I’m not from Iowa,” she said. I was shocked and disgusted. I had no clue if the voting and delegate assignment process was determined by the national or state party, but there are definitely rules for these things, rules people need to know and follow.

So I waited and waited and waited for the powwow to decide something, for the party to assign delegates. At half past four, when there was still uncertainty at the front table, I quietly walked out of the room. I did not find out how Iowa’s four delegates were allocated until today: Stein and Barr both received two.

All in all, I came away from the Green Party Convention with a feeling of empowerment, but I was also very disappointed and frustrated. Though there were only 11 of us there, we were engaging in democracy. It could have been much better organized and executed, and incompetence was an unfortunate obstacle, but it was democracy.

Though the convention is the only Green Party function I have yet attended, I have to admit that my faith in the party has been shaken. Regarding my personal convictions, its core values are very agreeable. (I am not, though, a party hardliner.) However, I came away with the feeling the party has the wrong priorities. It advocates grassroots democracy, yet throws all its eggs in one basket every four years to elect a President. While at the convention, I did not hear one single thing about local politics and government. On the big screen, Stein and Barr waxed poetic about when they will become president; they were enthusiastic and confident about their chances. Give me a break! When I left the convention, I was under the impression that nominating a Presidential candidate was counterproductive. Its Presidential aspirations have made the Green Party a big national joke, another irrelevant line on the General Election ballot. Why focus so much fruitless effort and energy on the Presidential election when so much can be done at the local level?

One option on the ballot was to vote for not running a Presidential candidate at all. I now wish I had made that my first choice.