The Relevance of Personal Politics on a College Campus
What a Martin O’Malley event at Pitzer College taught me about the value of intimate settings on the presidential campaign trail
Soon enough, more students bleed into the auditorium. An O’Malley aide passes around a sign-up sheet to collect contact info. Behind me, a boy reminds his friend that O’Malley is polling at one percent. A girl shuffles into my row and comments to her seatmate, “It’s a really small venue.” That it is, but people file in all the same, backpacks and longboards in hand. A friend of mine plops down next to me and asks, “That’s not him, is it?” He points to a man—white hair, slight paunch. It’s not.
By 4:30 p.m. the place heats up—literally and metaphorically. A buzz of conversation fills the space; people stand in the back and some even occupy the steps between aisles. The turnout of a few hundred still seems low for a presidential candidate, but the tiny auditorium relieves any sense of emptiness. . .
The students don’t give him the dismayed skepticism they show for other politicians during dining-hall conversation and class discussion—they are quiet, respectful, engaged. Listening to O’Malley is invigorating; I no longer care about the lack of people, the sleepy summer heat outside, or the abysmal polling numbers of the man in front of me.
O’Malley ends his 15-minute speech with a zinger: “It’s about us.” He gives a chuckle and allows for a brief moment of silence. “U-period, S-period. Thank you!” I wonder if a speechwriter actually allowed him to use that joke, or if he went rogue and changed it up. Nevertheless, it seems effective, we rise to our feet, we clap, he thanks us again.
The whole sensation reminds me of attending a spring-training baseball game. I’m 10-years-old, trailing my father to the ballpark to watch a matchup between the split-squad Giants and the Diamondbacks. Shaved ice, peanuts, the same dad-rock playing between innings. O’Malley is no Clinton or Bernie. He is certainly no Trump. He doesn’t draw crowds, but neither does he bring along the baggage of a high-profile candidate. Sitting in this small auditorium off the coast of California is akin to those intimate ball yards of Florida and Arizona. No seat is a bad seat. People come to watch a game they love, to see the stars and the underdogs too.
http://www.theatlantic.com/politics/archive/2015/10/the-relevance-of-personal-politics-on-a-college-campus/408187/