On Sunday, March 6, 2016, along with record numbers of other Mainers, I did my bit at the Democratic caucus, heading to the town office to vote for my candidate. I’ve done plenty of research over the last many months, and having lived in Vermont for a few years, Bernie Sanders was on my radar a long while ago. I’m comfortable with my choice, and felt pretty good about how the day would go down. So imagine my surprise to find myself climbing up and standing on a table to debate a well-prepared speaker who was arguing not so much against Senator Sanders, but for Hillary Clinton.

This is how it went down: A gentleman stepped forward and talked about the latest polls, and how Clinton “won the south”, she’s “won the minority vote” and there’s just no way Sanders can clinch the nomination. It just can’t be done. Historically, this just doesn’t happen.

There are few statements that can send me from zero to 60 in an instant. Telling me “that’s not how it’s ever been done before” – as a reason for not trying something different, regardless of the merit of this different thing! – kind of puts up my hackles; hence, the table-climbing.

The gentleman went on to say that he’s not AGAINST Sanders, he seems like a decent guy with good ideas, but – there’s no way they’re going to let him have the nomination. There just isn’t. So he was going to vote for Clinton. (It doesn’t seem to register with some folks that if everyone who likes Sanders but “doesn’t think he can win” actually voted for him instead of “the inevitable nominee” … that Sanders could, in fact, win.)

Next the Bernie Sanders camp is asked if anyone would like to respond, and because I didn’t have a friend nearby to tug at my shirt and tell me it was a bad idea, I found myself climbing up on a table so that the “undecideds” could hear me.

I actually have a fair amount of experience with public speaking. And here please note that “experience” doesn’t necessarily mean “good.” But I’m not afraid of it, anyway. Except Sunday. That gentleman who spoke up from the Clinton side? Our families have dinner together. I respect him as an intelligent, critical thinker who speaks his mind and has a solid sense of humor.

Regardless, I was ready to tear his argument to shreds. Only I couldn’t. I couldn’t even remember what the hell he had said, as my knees knocked together on a table that I was secretly praying wouldn’t collapse under the weight of me and the people crushing around it.

I know I said something, and I’m certain it was unrelated to the argument at hand, and I have a hunch it was more Norma Rae than I had intended, but I couldn’t help it. I’m not a complete dolt, but I’m not a great debater, either, and things I KNOW I know fly right out of my head and into the great void.

Had I a few moments to prepare, I would have said this: Friend, I don’t wish to insult your intelligence, but I’m so surprised that you’re basing your vote for the president of the United States on polls! Who publishes the polls? Who finances them? What is the method of polling? Where is the polling done? Somehow, I don’t see a lot of polling activity really taking place in inner city Detroit, or Harlem, or Atlanta, or …. Are they representative of the region’s opinions, really? What’s the region? What are the connections between the poll-makers and the candidates?

I heard recently that in the early 1980s, there were 53 major sources of news. Today, there are six.

Our news is carefully crafted to get the biggest bang for the buck, period. And those bucks are big, and therefore influential. When I walk past a newsstand and see a picture of a victorious Hillary Clinton waving to crowds, do I have to even bother to read the headline? The photo is meant to make me infer that she’s got the momentum, regardless of the fact that the story was about Sanders’s two victories vs. Clinton’s one. One news source says Clinton is leading by hundreds of delegates; another announces the lead in single digits.

This isn’t about my choice vs. my friend’s choice. This is about even having a choice. The Bangor Daily News reported yesterday that despite Maine voting for Sanders overwhelmingly at the local level, three of our five “superdelegates” will vote for Clinton. Yes, even our own Chellie Pingree. According to BDN, state party chair Peggy Schaffer said: “History shows clearly that the superdelegates support the national nominee. I certainly will also.”

Huh? Shouldn’t the superdelegates be supporting the choice of the people they were elected to represent in the first place?

My friend is right. Sanders can’t win in an election process that is fixed. He can win, if our votes made a bloody difference, and it’s pretty clear that Hillary Clinton has her way paved out pretty smoothly for the months ahead. She recently stated that she wants the primaries “over with.” No wonder.

So to the people I let down at Sunday’s caucus by having a moment to make a sound argument for Senator Sanders – my apologies. Next time, perhaps one of you should tug at my shirt and vigorously shake your head no. To my Clinton-supporting friend – a veteran, with a son who graduated West Point – I’d say take another look at the work that the candidates have done over the years.

Take a look at who has worked so hard for your benefits and your son’s – and look at the folks who thwart those efforts every time. They’ll send ‘em to war, but taking care of them when they come back is “too expensive.”

Take a look at who shows up for work every day, who votes their conscience and is continually proven, usually in hindsight, to be correct.

Then, take a look at our very broken system, and let me know what we can do about it. Because I haven’t the slightest idea.

I guess if they won’t choose our candidate of choice, we’ll have to write him in. But who’s counting anyway?

Mary Hauprich lives on Islesboro