In 2016, the Democratic National Convention took place in Philadelphia. I still have faint memories of watching it on television in my grandparents’ living room, where I lay on the floor doodling “I’m With Her” motifs in my sketchbook.
This year was much different for me: I was actually inside Chicago’s United Center as Democrats gathered, covering the convention as a student journalist and armed with greater political consciousness through my studies as a political-science major. It was also different for the Democrats, who were there to officially nominate a candidate who’d entered the race less than a month before.
The last-minute change in programming ignited a lethargic party that many believed was quickly losing even more momentum as Election Day loomed. The excitement in the arena on the closing night of the convention was especially obvious. Almost every seat was filled with an anxious attendee eager to catch a glimpse of the woman who could become the first female president of the United States. As Gov. Roy Cooper of North Carolina began his introduction for Vice President Kamala Harris, reporters and photographers from some of the biggest media outlets in the country took to sitting on the stairs and in the aisles, scrambling to find a spot wherever they could.
The energy had been building throughout convention week. Though the lines had been shorter and the seating more plentiful on previous nights, there was excitement in the air from the beginning—not just about Harris herself, but also in anticipation of appearances by “new faces,” as the party was characterizing them. There were also some familiar faces, like Michelle and Barack Obama. While I have memories of Hillary Clinton accepting the Democratic nomination in 2016, I have even earlier memories of the Obamas. Their character and eloquence remain concrete images in my mind of what American political life can look like. I sometimes think they are the reason that I knew I had to immerse myself in the chaotic and perplexing world of politics. I often tell people that my parents still have the champagne cork they popped in celebration of Barack Obama’s election in 2008. The die was cast.
I wasn’t alone in my fond recollection of the Obama era; it could be felt throughout the arena, and even the Obamas themselves seemed to be feeling it. In their speeches on Tuesday night, they recalled the slogans and themes that characterized his campaigns. “America, hope is making a comeback,” Michelle Obama said to roars from the crowd. Her poise and passion seemed to remind attendees of what they may associate with a simpler, better time in American politics. The former president then took the stage to speak about his time running for office, noting the struggles he faced as a Black presidential candidate—the same scrutiny Harris faces now from opponents who purposely mispronounce names and raise questions about race, ethnicity, and “American-ness.” As many also observed, the Obamas strayed a bit from their mantra, “When they go low, we go high,” using their speaking time to criticize Donald Trump directly. Yet they did it in a way that was true to their dignity; it sounded like smart commentary, not disrespectful trash talk. And at the end, both appealed to unity over anything else.
But if there was nostalgia for what people think of as a less polarized, more bipartisan politics, Democrats also seemed to adopt the more explicitly “patriotic” posture of an earlier era. There were American flags and chants of “U-S-A.” On the convention’s final night, numerous veterans who’ve also held elective office made appearances, including Sen. Tammy Duckworth of Illinois and Sen. Mark Kelly of Arizona (not to mention vice presidential candidate Tim Walz). General support for members of the armed services then yielded to more full-throated support for a strong military. Former Secretary of Defense Leon Panetta gave a belligerent address. Then Harris promised to ensure that the United States has “the most lethal fighting force” in the world. This struck the wrong note for me, sounding less like patriotism than like an echo of the post-9/11 years, when the U.S. presence in Afghanistan, Iraq, and elsewhere in the Middle East brought devastation rather than an extension of peaceful democracy. Unfortunately, this seemed to generate the loudest cheers of the night. Are war and violence what the party wants to emphasize at this moment? Harris’s presence on the ticket (and at the convention) is in part aimed at getting younger voters who’ve been apprehensive about Democrats during Joe Biden’s term to take another look. Even with Biden gone and Harris the nominee, the younger generation is frustrated. For them, Gaza remains at the forefront of this election—but it wasn’t acknowledged by the endless roster of speakers at the convention, save for Sen. Bernie Sanders of Vermont, who called for a release of the hostages in Gaza and an immediate ceasefire. (Harris herself made a passing call for peace only after pledging unwavering support for Israel, and, when mentioning Gaza, didn’t cite Israel’s role in its devastation.)
Democrats didn’t seem to be secretive about their wish to keep attention off the issue. Just as news broke of a ten-month old Palestinian child in Gaza becoming partially paralyzed after contracting polio—the first recorded case in twenty-five years—they refused to let a Palestinian speaker take the stage. Illinois’s Cook County has the largest Palestinian-American population in the country, yet the request to have representation of this community was debated until the last day of the convention, then ultimately rejected. The Chicago suburbs were also the site of a tragic hate crime last October, when a six-year old Muslim boy, Wadea Al-Fayoume, was brutally murdered. On Wednesday night of the convention, the parents of Hersh Goldberg-Polin, a hostage kidnapped by Hamas on October 7, were able to advocate for freeing Israeli hostages. They received a standing ovation. Democrats could have helped balance the pain felt by families and victims on both sides; instead, they chose what came off as continued disregard for what the people of Gaza are going through as the United States continues to supply Israel with aid.
Just outside the security perimeter of the United Center, protestors called for an end to U.S. aid to Israel and the devastation in Gaza, as many have since last October. The biggest protests were seen on Thursday night, the evening Harris accepted her nomination. Thousands gathered in Union Park, half a mile from the convention center, ultimately clashing with police in a way that recalled though did not equal what occurred in 1968. The number of protestors was smaller, true, and the impact less than expected. But perhaps the outsized presence of a militarized police force contributed to that. It seemed to align with what was being cheered on inside the convention—an overly militarized society—while there was no acknowledgement of the protests, Palestinians, or the uncommitted delegates calling for a Palestinian speaker. Chicago mayor Brandon Johnson complimented the Chicago Police Department for their “constitutional policing” at the close of the convention, even as arrests were being made and media were given dispersal orders.
Offsetting the military rhetoric was maybe the most moving moment of the convention. This was the appearance of four of the “exonerated five”—the now-middle-aged men falsely accused and wrongly convicted of raping a woman in New York’s Central Park in 1989. One of them, Yusef Salaam, is now an elected New York City councilman. He was just fifteen when Donald Trump took out a full-page ad in the New York Times calling for reinstating the death penalty. Their presence was a reminder not only of one of the most glaring failures ever seen by the American justice system, but also of the prejudices that still run through it. Trump himself still refuses to acknowledge the men’s innocence.
I wish the tenor established in their speech carried over into Harris’s. Her “lethal” remark dampened what could have been a more motivating and triumphant moment. She spent the opening of her speech talking about her mother, sister, and other important women in her life. Seeing a woman of color as a possible president is a success in representation for young women in America, who have prayed for an advocate who looks like them. Harris’s support for reproductive rights, affordable health care, and sound economic policies have brought some reassurance to a cynical voting population. Her nomination has undeniably re-energized a party just when it needed it most. A vision of what the future could bring came to light during convention week.
But we should take this moment to continue to hold the party to account, and to demand better from a country that still tends to over-emphasize its military role abroad. If we can find hope in the possibility of a woman president, we must also remember there are other ways to present ourselves to the world than through military rhetoric and might. Calls for peace and compassion for tens of thousands of innocent civilians killed in war are also in line with our patriotic values.