With Obama and Clinton striding the world stage, state legislature facing life-and-death issues and clowns like Rush Limbaugh and every living soul at Fox News seeking to turn American democracy in their very freak show, we too often forget that politics is not limited to the large scale. All across the country, every day and every evening, people are meeting in small groups: committees, work groups, ad hoc sessions, dinner meetings, accidental gathers. In every possible dimension, and for every possible reason, Americans get together to do politics on a scale that does not draw the attention of any media but does allow for individuals to have a say and feel as if they are part of the process.

Given the way the Dean and Obama campaigns grew into life from small, unnoticed meetings, no one should ever doubt that the small meeting they attend does not matter.

An example. Tonight I attended the Platform and Resolution Committee meeting of the Multnomah County Democrats, not as a committee member but as a presenter: I have a resolution I want to bring to the Central Committee, and this is the most common means of doing so. Six committee members did meet, with Gordon Hillesland chairing the committee. Three resolutions were heard (by the time I left), one on concealed gun permits, one on Instant Runoff Voting, and mine, to support HB2556, the "Keep the Guard Home" campaign. The content of the resolutions did not matter so much as the fact that eleven people bother to show up for over two hours on a Thursday evening to discuss items they believed were important and to be part of the political process, however micro the scale.

The first resolution did not receive a recommendation, more because of a lack of clarity in the language than any disagreement on substance. The IRV discussion (more correctly, the resolution in support of SB 29, which will allow local governments in Oregon to experiment with IRV) was discussed in detail and then given a thumbs-up, 6-0 (all resolutions move on to the next Central Committee meeting regardless, but a vote to recommend does mean something). My resolution received a 4-1 vote, after I rewrote a number of items to clarify the language (a common problem, it turns out, for resolutions coming from novices) and to remove some unnecessary and inflammatory words. The one vote to not approve came because the committee member thought this should be dealt with at the national and not the state level; everyone at the meeting agreed with the substance of my resolution and HB 2556.

That was one group of people meeting on one evening to do one task. The Multnomah Democrats have a number of other committees, not to mention state House District groups and various caucuses. Most county parties in Oregon also have committees and caucuses, and then there are the issue groups, working on issues from glbt rights to education to hunger, the environment, technology, campaigns, and on and on and on. And that's just Oregon — and we're a small state. Imagine what's going on in California, especially with the huge mess they are in. There were likely hundreds, if not thousands, of different groups getting together all week to work on their issues and campaigns or perhaps just to be with one another and share the pain.

Why do these people do it? Why spend the time and energy on projects that may not have any influence, may not be noticed by anyone beyond a small, local circle? Why give a damn to do this sort of politics? The answer, I think, is precisely that: they do give a damn. Will my resolution keep the Oregon National Guard from deploying to Iraq in four months? I very much doubt it. But my son is in the Guard, and I don't want him to go. I will do all I can to prevent that. Perhaps this resolution will play a small part in changing how the Guard is used. I don't know, but I do know that not doing anything, even if it's microscopic in scale, is the way you give up and lose before you even start.

We did not change the world tonight. As far as we could tell. But then again, I could be wrong. Maybe we did. We sure tried.