Instead, I was having corny visions of a progressive Mount Rushmore—not just one leader but a cluster of clear ideological allies. I typically hold the jaded position that politicians are by definition fake, mealy-mouthed, and never progressive enough.
Election seasons have never inspired me. You Might Also Like.
I realize that, in some sense, this would have been an impossible ask; both Warren and Bernie Sanders were running for president, and someone had to pull ahead. This was before anyone was voting, before I started to obsess over election math or unity. I really liked Warren.
Their somewhat distinct constituencies are proof that progressive politics is a lot bigger than a "cult" of Bernie. I liked not one but two candidates in the race.
As of now, Mom and Dad are still cooling their heels; Sanders has sent a couple of flattering, no-pressure tweetswhile Warren has, at least for nowresisted talk of an endorsement. She stood for a lot of things I did: universal health care and child care, wealth redistribution, the Green New Deal, abortion foe.
Even back in —when I was 24, desperately broke, and loathed George W. It felt like I was experiencing history, not a horse race, an actual movement rather than just another dumb election.
But the primary had gor ugly. This felt different thanwhen I gladly voted for Bernie Sanders in the primary, but still had a nagging feeling that he was the exception to the rule.
In retrospect, this was no less than a profound experience. To me, the fact that two progressives were doing so well aled a true realignment, a shift in the Overton Window of acceptable political discourserather than Bernie as a singular way forward.
I spent the day feeling extremely sad. The happiest Vor felt during this election was sometime in the fall, when both Bernie and Liz were frontrunners.