With some trepidation, I attended my DFL caucus Tuesday evening at Roosevelt High School in south Minneapolis. To be blunt: Chaos reigned. When I arrived at 6:30, two lines ran from the front doors of the high school down the steps, then in opposite directions down the street and around the corner. After about 25 minutes on the sidewalk, I made it into the building a little before the official start at 7 p.m. only because I knew my ward and precinct, which allowed me to skip the longer, slower line.
Our precinct met in the school library. When we signed in, they gave us a little square of paper that looked like a second-grader had cut it, and it contained the names of the presidential candidates. We put these "ballots" in a small cardboard file box on the checkout desk in the library with a hole cut out of it that, again, looked like a second-grader had been at work with a dull scissors.
When the caucus began at 7:10, there were about 100 people in the room. The convener went over the rules and started taking names for county, city and state DFL convention delegates. None of these was contested because there were barely enough volunteers to fill the delegate slate, and no one to fill the alternates.
When they started moving on to taking resolutions, I decided to leave. When I did, I was stunned to see that about 500 people were in the hall, a city block long, waiting to sign in, get their square of paper and "vote" for their presidential candidate. This was at 7:45, 15 minutes before the caucus was going to end at 8 p.m. When I went down to the first floor, there were similar masses of people in the halls waiting to get into other precinct caucuses.
This is what I call the illusion of democracy.
Brian McNeill, Minneapolis
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I joined around 300,000 Minnesotans who made it out to caucus — in an election with huge stakes. But in a general election, closer to 3 million of us make our voices heard. Party leaders, elected officials: It's long past time to embrace the primary.
The caucus process is completely skewed toward white-collar voters. Caucusing — and having to be there at 7 p.m. — disenfranchises hundreds of thousands of Minnesotans who work in retail, restaurants, theaters, hospitals and more. At the very least, absentee ballots should be allowed — or, to be truly inclusive, early voting. My mother, in the Super Tuesday state of Tennessee, was able to cast her ballot on Feb. 23. (Tennessee: More progressive than Minnesota? You betcha.)