Four o'clock in the morning. I was riding the shuttle bus to the airport, the start of a long day of travel that would end at my hotel room in Pittsburgh.
It was dark outside. The heat of the day was still hours away. The L.A. streets were occupied only by those with business to attend to, or those who, like myself, were on the way to attending to business. I reflected on the nature of the work we have to do here this weekend. In the dark bus, I blindly scribbled notes on a steno pad.
In Las Vegas three years ago, at the first YearlyKos (as NN was known at the time), we were on the outside looking in: Republicans held the White House and both houses of Congress. Our energies and our passions were all about getting more Democrats in office in the upcoming elections.
Las Vegas seems like such a long, long time ago now. I remember how giddy that one was. I remember the tinfoil hat contest, the electric thrill of seeing on a name tag a user ID that had up until then been only a collection of glowing pixels whose number would appear when I lingered over them - now I could literally "flesh out" the person behind those glowing pixels, lingering instead over breakfast or coffee or a beer - or over a strawberry bathed in chocolate flowing from a fountain at the top of the Stratosphere. Having lunch with bonddad and casperr and nyceve, sharing a cramped carpool with Kossacks-who-shall-not-be-named, meeting ilona and experiencing her passion about the issue of PTSD. Ahh, good times, good times. It was all about making face-to-face connections, and it was NEW.
We were younger then, and soldiers. As a group, we - the netroots - were a green fighting force that had only a few campaigns under our belts. We had an easily defined and characterized enemy, and our goal was simple: More Democrats.
Since then, we've been bloodied. We've had some big wins
some heartbreaking losses
and some that were a taste of both
Some issues that have divided us
have fallen away, while others
have yet to be resolved.
We've accomplished a lot since the first YearlyKos in Vegas.
Since that first YearlyKos, we have become A Force To Be Reckoned With. That was evident two years ago in Chicago when all of the major Democratic presidential candidates thought it was important enough to show up for a candidates' forum.
This year we got the Big Dog - and Meteor Blades, heh.
In 2008, even the name changed. It wasn't just a joyful meetup with fellow Orange travelers anymore - it was a Nation, a Netroots Nation.
Since that first YearlyKos in Vegas, we’ve moved the ball into our court. "Our people" control the game. We have new responsibilities now. This is no longer about getting power so that we can solve problems; this is about using that power to solve those problems. Our people - the people WE helped, in a big way, to put in, are in the belly of the beast, are in charge. Clearly, some of them need reminding that they are, in fact, our people.
Since the first YearlyKos in Vegas, we've stormed the beaches, we've taken the Hill - and now the White House, too - and looking around us, we see that the work is not yet over, the battles - some of the biggest, most important battles - have yet to be fought.
Indeed, we’re in the middle of some of them. One of the hazards we face is the temptation to throw up our hands in frustration and surrender.
Ladies and gentlemen, this war is a long way from over. While some might believe that we've suffered our hεalthcarε Waterloo, I prefer to think we're fighting our Kasserine Pass: we're bloodied, chastened, and wiser. As a result, we're pissed off and focused, and much more effective.
I was still thinking about the weekend as I boarded the final leg of my flight to Pittsburgh. I ended up sitting next to a woman - call her Sally - who lived just outside Dallas and was going to visit her family in the Pittsburgh suburbs. We had a long, rambling conversation that consumed almost the entire flight from Dallas/Fort Worth.
During the course of our chat, Sally demonstrated an almost encyclopedic knowledge of Native American culture and history. When I asked her how she knew so much about the subject, she told me she was married to a full-blooded Native American. She had remarried late in life and had immersed herself in her new husband’s roots; it was only once she began that process that she discovered that she was herself one-sixteenth Cherokee. Her whole life, she had heard that her lineage included some "Black Dutch," but she had never questioned what that euphemism - a euphemism born of shame about the truth - meant.
Sally told me a story about Wilma Mankiller, a longtime former leader of the Cherokee nation, that tribe's first female chief. Sally said that Mankiller, while working with the Cherokee Nation in their dealings with the U.S. government, believed that the approach the Cherokee were using was too compromising and appeasing, and ultimately would result in an unsatisfactory outcome.
Mankiller had some advice for her fellow Cherokee:
Remember who you are.
She told them that they were in danger of betraying their Cherokee heritage by making concessions that were not in their interests. She told them to play to their strengths, not simply to accede to the U.S. government’s wishes.
Mankiller's stand proved pivotal in the tribe’s negotiations with the U.S. government. A remarkable advocate for the Cherokee Nation, Mankiller helped pave the way for the Cherokees' eventual ability to deal with the U.S. government on a nation-to-nation basis.
As Sally related this story to me about Mankiller inspiring the Cherokee to stand firm and stay true to their core beliefs, I couldn’t help but think about the current situation of Democrats in Congress.
Remember who you are.
(I don’t know for sure, because I wasn’t there, but I’d be willing to bet that Mankiller’s advice to the Cherokee did not include the word "bipartisan." )
Coming out of this year’s Netroots Nation, it’s clear that many Democrats need to hear that message:
Remember who you are.
Let's keep reminding them.