A letter from a Montana delegate

by: Jay Stevens

Fri Sep 05, 2008 at 07:12:22 AM MST

Rusche is a Roosevelt County attorney and a member of the Assiniboine Nation.

Ryan Rusche at the 2008 Democratic National Convention. Photo courtesy of Michele Reinhart.

It's good to be home on the beautiful prairies of northeastern Montana under the Big Sky where my friends and family call home. After a week in the temporary hub of American politics, hearing the most gifted speakers the Democratic party has to offer, and being a part of what I suspect some will call the most significant convention in history, I have spent the last twenty-four hours basking in the beauty of my wife and children. They are, after all, the reason I took an interest in this race in the first place.

I had originally hoped to spend some time each evening reflecting on the day and sending home a summary of the activities in which I participated. But evening had long since past by the time I reached my hotel room each night and the 7:00 a.m. delegation meeting came far to early for me, the morning person that I am. So I had resolved to sit down at the computer when I got home and reflect a bit, both to share with my experiences with the folks at home and to record for myself the truly inspirational event.

Now that I'm home and have had time kiss my children to death, I still find it a little hard to express that which I've witnessed. I can tell you that I have come away from the convention with a renewed sense of purpose in working for the betterment of the least of our sisters and brothers as well as confidence that our efforts are paying off.  I can also tell you that I suspect any characterization you might have seen on the news has probably missed the mark. This convention was about much more than winning Hillary's supporters over to Barack's side.

Monday was a day the committee had themed "one nation." Following our delegation meeting I headed for the First Americans caucus with several other Montanans. We joined over one hundred other American Indians who were elected to be delegates to the convention. That night we realized that the caucus lacked the enthusiasm it should have had and together we decided to liven it up ourselves on Wednesday.

We then spent some time at the rural caucus before heading to the Pepsi Center early so as not to miss out on any of the opening ceremonies. I was glad we did.

Speaker after speaker took to the podium reflecting upon the work that has been done in bringing about civil rights for all Americans. Congressman Jesse Jackson, Jr., a speaker who received little attention in the media, strongly strode to the podium early in the evening and proclaimed: "I'm sure Dr. King is looking down on us here in Denver, noting that this is the first political convention in history to take place within sight of his mountaintop."

He went on to share with us his experiences working with Barack, paralleling the work of Dr. King and others. He told us, "what I saw in that campaign is what I'm seeing today: ordinary men and women of all races, all religions, all walks of life coming together to demand a government in Washington that's as honest and decent, as purposeful and responsible as the American people."

Though I had been on my feet several times while he was on stage I again took to my feet and remained standing as he concluded:

Fellow Democrats, this is an historic moment. I know. I grew up with the lessons of another generation, my father's generation. I know his stories of struggle and sacrifice, of fear and division. I know America is still a place where dreams are too often deferred and opportunities too often denied.

But here's what I also know. I know that while America may not be perfect, our union can always be perfected. I know what we can achieve when good people with strong convictions come together around a common purpose. And I know what a great leader can do to help us find common ground. America, we need such a leader today, a leader who can heal the wounds of the last eight years, a leader who knows that what unites us is greater than what divides us and that America is at its strongest when hard work is rewarded and all of our dreams are within reach.

I know Barack Obama. I've seen his leadership at work. I've seen the difference he's made in the lives of people across Illinois. And that is why I know that for the sake of our children, our families, and the future we hold in common, he is the leader America needs right now. Forty-five years to the day after a young preacher called out, "Let freedom ring," let history show in this fourth week of August in this Mile-High City, freedom in America has never rung from a higher mountaintop than it does here today.

For the next hour or so we heard from many with comparable passion, but none so moving as was Caroline Kennedy when she took the stage to introduce a tribute to the life's work of her uncle,Teddy Kennedy. Caroline shared with us an intimate picture of her uncle-the man who walked her down the ailse; a man who never had to work but instead spent nearly half a century working for all of us. She could barley speak through the applause as she proclaimed:

For 46 years, he has been so much more than just a senator for the people of Massachusetts. He's been a senator for all who believe in a dream that's never died. If you're no longer being denied a job because of your race, gender or disability, or if you've seen a rise in the minimum wage you're being paid, Teddy is your senator too.

If your children are receiving health care thanks to the Children's Health Insurance Program, if you see a nurse at a community health center or if you're benefiting from the Medicare program that he fought to create, and that just last month he returned to the Senate to save, Teddy is your senator too. If your child is getting an early boost in life through Head Start, or attending a better school or can go to college because a Pell grant has made it more affordable, Teddy is your senator too. And if you're an 18-year-old who's going to vote for the first time-and I bet it'll be for Barack Obama-Teddy is your senator too.

Minutes later, Teddy walked out. The crowd went crazy. We had expected only a video. But just as he left his hospital bed for a crucial vote on Medicare not too many days ago, he told us that he wouldn't let anything keep him away from Denver. And he remined us:

Yes, we are Americans. This is what we do. We reach the moon. We scale the heights. I know it. I've seen it. I've lived it. And we can do it again.

There is a new wave of change all around us- and if we set our compass true, we will reach our destination-not merely victory for our party, but renewal for our nation.

The renewal had begun. As I write I find that I am having less trouble expressing myself, as I did a few moments ago. But sill writing is difficult, because as I reflect I find that I am distracted by the renewal that capatured us to "keep going." If it weren't 12:30 in the morning, I'd be tempted to start knocking on doors.

Surely, most of you watched part or all of the speeches that followed Monday night culminating with Michelle Obama's leaving many us wondering when she might decide to run for President. And for you watching on television the experience was probably much the same as mine: For the future of her daughters and my son and my daughter, and your children, let us finish the work that was started by those who went before us, because despite the distance we've come, there's still a long way to go.

On Tuesday Senator Baucus spoke to the Montana delegation at our morning meeting and shed some light on how truly courageous Teddy Kennedy's appearance for the vote on the Medicare bill had been. After that, I joined Jason Smith and Amy Kroover on the first shuttle out of Stapleton to attend the Women's Caucus which featured a line-up of speakers that rivaled the convention's.

Senator Claire McCaskill (D-MO). Photo poached without permission from Fox News.

There we heard exclusively from women...amazing women, including Senator Claire McCaskill, DNCC Secretary Alice Germond, Sheila Johnson, and many, many others. There we heard some of the most profound words uttered in Denver. There we heard how we have been and how we will continue to eliminate disparities based upon gender and race and all other barriers that divide us.

Sheila Johnson. Getty images.

One of those speakers, Sheila Johson, a highly successful African American business women, shared an aside story that aroused emotions embedded deep within me. She spoke of the difficultly she and others had in overcoming bitterness from members of her African American community because her skin was a little lighter, her speech a little different and her ambitions a little higher. She threw me back into my chair when she said that this bias in nothing more than "racism turned inside out" and that it had no place in our communities. She reminded us that behavior like she described excluded people from all communities and challenged us to rid oursevles of it or we can never expect the greater society to rid itself of its biases.

Having been fully inspired, we again arrived early to the Pepsi Center, not wanting to miss either Senator Clinton or our own Governor.

If you didn't get a chance to watch Brian, I suggest you do so. Followng his speech, Montana was the talk of Denver. When we'd meet a delegate from some other state, they'd say, "that's some governor you have up there." But interestingly, they didn't stop there. They'd been hearing about all the good things we've been doing. Some wanted advice, others were just intrigued. They were fascinated how we been able to elect American Indians to state and local office in record numbers. They were amazed that despite the redness of our state that we'd sent another democrat to Washington and filled our state offices with members of our party. They liked that we weren't financing our state and our localities with payday loans like the Bush administration has done with the federal government.

But Tuesday, as the pundits said, was really all about Hillary. I don't remember any of us sitting during her speech. We were on our feet and she kept us there. Though I supported Barack in the primary, she made me proud of those who supported her.

After her speech, a nice lady from Fox News (forgive me I don't know her name) asked me what I thought. My response: "Awesome." She asked me if she did what she needed to. My response: "Were you here just now?" She continued to ask me several other questions, my response continued to be the same. To me, even if she'd only heard those closing remarks in the last few moments of Hillary's speech, she wouldn't have asked me such silly questions. Hillary had told us:

This is the story of America. Of women and men who defy the odds and never give up.

How do we give this country back to them?

By following the example of a brave New Yorker , a woman who risked her life to shepherd slaves along the Underground Railroad.

And on that path to freedom, Harriett Tubman had one piece of advice.

If you hear the dogs, keep going.

If you see the torches in the woods, keep going.

If they're shouting after you, keep going.

Don't ever stop. Keep going.

If you want a taste of freedom, keep going.

Even in the darkest of moments, ordinary Americans have found the faith to keep going.

I've seen it in you. I've seen it in our teachers and firefighters, nurses and police officers, small business owners and union workers, the men and women of our military - you always keep going.

We are Americans. We're not big on quitting.

Having now had several days to reflect on her words I arrive that the conclusion that those of us who voted a democratic ticket this year had the best choice of any two candidates in history.

It was Hillary again who was the highlight for me on Wednesday. Wednesday night featured the roll call where Barack was nominated, and it was Hillary who acclaimed his nomination only fifteen feet or so from my seat. When Nancy Pelosi proclaimed him to be our official nominee, the crowd began a cheer that would last for several mintues. The Pepsi Center roared louder than it ever had.

I tried to cheer along. But I couldn't. I just stood there in awe of what had just happened. In a country created by white males of European descent, who had framed their government to intentionly allow only their participation and control, after 232 years, and after 18,000,000 cracks in that glass ceiling, the woman who made them asked us to nominate a fellow of mixed race rasied by a single mother to run and be elected as the President of the United States. And I knew that we had just nominated one of those special leaders who come along only every fifty years or so.

I stood there. Tears welled up in my eyes and my hands trembled. At that moment I knew, I knew, that my daughter and my son, could be anything they wanted to be, not because of who I am or where they come from, but because of their own efforts and qualities. They could do whatever they wanted to do. And I had been a part of it. I had cast my vote for the future. Upon Hillary's request, Nancy Pelosi had asked me if Barack should be our President, and I proudly and loudly voted, "aye."

Hope had once again risen above the fear that had driven our lives for almost a decade.

I remember 9/11 like most of you. Vividly. I was in Washington, D.C., doing some work for the Fort Peck Tribes and listening to a speech by Senator Inoye of Hawaii. He told us a plane had just crashed into the World Trade Center. A few minutes later he told us a second plane had hit the second tower and that he would have to leave. But before he left he told us to pray...and to hope.

Sadly, we all know what followed. We were led down a path driven by fear.

It was fitting then that the evening's featured speaker was former President Clinton. We were reminded, less subtely this time, of just how fear had taken the country overnight.

The President entered to a roaring crowd that simply wouldn't let him speak. They loved him and they had missed him. His speech, well, it was classic.

Before President Clinton, the roll call and Barack's nomination, Wedneday had been quite a day. As we had resolved, the Montana delegation hijacked the American Indian caucus and arosed some enthusiasm. A couple of us fired off some remarks during a slot where logistical questions were being taken that sparked other delegates to share as well.

Dr. Margaret Campbell. From the Montana legislative website.

But it was Dr. Margaret Campbell, MDP vice chair and vice president of Fort Peck Community College who brought the first real round of applause from the Indian delegates. She shared how Montana's Gov. Schweitzer had appointed Indians to boards and commissions in record numbers, how Indians were being elected as democrats in record numbers, and how voter turnout had sent Jon Tester to Washington.

Senator Jon Tester with Jorge Quintana. Photo courtesy of Jorge Quintana.

Senator Tester joined us for our breaksfast and delegation meeting Thursday, the final day of the convention. He spoke to us humbly and from the heart, proud that he had such a great job representing the good people of Montana. His message was simple: we have lived off the work of his parents' (my grandparents') generation for too long. He challenged us to bring about a New Deal of our own for our children and offered his help.

Invesco Field. Photo courtesy of Michele Reinhart.

The next thing we knew we were on the field at Mile High, about 12 yards from where Barack would accept our nomination and probably pretty close to the fifty yard line.

Ryan Rusche and Jason Smith at Invesco Field. Photo courtesy of Michele Reinhart.

As an aside, let me just say, that for any of you who have ever been to a professional football game, it looks much different from the field.

JP Pomnichowski and Julie French at Invesco Field. Jason Smith is behind and slightly to the left of Pomnichoski. Photo courtesy of Michele Reinhart.

The afternoon featured several members of the military who urged their support for our candidate and explained why. We also heard from Martin Luther King III, and, of course, former Vice President Al Gore.

Vice President Gore began with a strong reminder:

One of the greatest gifts of our democracy is the opportunity it offers us every four years to change course. It's not a guarantee; it's only an opportunity. The question facing us is, simply put, will we seize this opportunity for change? That's why I came here tonight: to tell you why I feel so strongly that we must seize this opportunity....

The opportunity took the stage about an hour later delivering a speech that was rivaled only by one that was delivered four years earlier, the speech that was the genesis for my own entry into elected office.

And Barack Obama of Illinios agreed to our request. He said: "With profound gratitude and great humility, I accept your nomination for the presidency of the United States."

With those words I saw all those important moments of my life replay themselves in my mind. I thought of my wife. I thought of my children and all the promise this country holds for them.

A few moments later Barack spoke of that promise:

What is that promise?

It's a promise that says each of us has the freedom to make of our own lives what we will, but that we also have the obligation to treat each other with dignity and respect.

It's a promise that says the market should reward drive and innovation and generate growth, but that businesses should live up to their responsibilities to create American jobs, look out for American workers, and play by the rules of the road.

Ours is a promise that says government cannot solve all our problems, but what it should do is that which we cannot do for ourselves - protect us from harm and provide every child a decent education; keep our water clean and our toys safe; invest in new schools and new roads and new science and technology.

Our government should work for us, not against us. It should help us, not hurt us. It should ensure opportunity not just for those with the most money and influence, but for every American who's willing to work.

That's the promise of America - the idea that we are responsible for ourselves, but that we also rise or fall as one nation; the fundamental belief that I am my brother's keeper; I am my sister's keeper.

That's the promise we need to keep.

And how was I to help ensure that this promise is there for my children? How are you to preserve it for your own? The Senator told us how:

"We cannot walk alone," the preacher cried. "And as we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back."

America, we cannot turn back. Not with so much work to be done. Not with so many children to educate, and so many veterans to care for. Not with an economy to fix and cities to rebuild and farms to save. Not with so many families to protect and so many lives to mend. America, we cannot turn back. We cannot walk alone. At this moment, in this election, we must pledge once more to march into the future. Let us keep that promise - that American promise - and in the words of Scripture hold firmly, without wavering, to the hope that we confess.

And with those words of promise and direction the convention had ended and we were parting ways hours later. We said our goodbyes, shook hands and shared a few hugs. We knew that we shared a special bond of having been part of the nomination of one of those true leaders that only come along every couple of generations. We had spent a week together and, importantly, our eyes had been opened to the potential of each other.

Montana's delegation to the 2008 Democratic National Convention, posing for a group photo. Courtesy of Michele Reinhart.

The good people of Montana had done well in selecting delegates to represent them. These delegates will soon be the leaders of tomorrow. They are going places, each and every one of them. Their hearts are filled with compassion. They have the drive and the energy to reach the mountain top. And with them, I will keep going.