Bernie bros won't shout down Hillary backers

The shouting revolution has the stage right now. The media love the so-called Bernie Bros — the angry, misogyny-led boys who speak on Sen. Bernie Sanders' behalf. They also love to tell us how much young women hate Hillary Clinton.

But there is a less-reported side of the story.

I'm a 17-year-old girl who plans to vote for Clinton if given the chance in the general election in November. But I am worried that the debate is being defined by the shouting and emphatic hand-waving of Bernie and his bros.

The use of anger as political communication reminds me of my high school experiences. Here's a story:

It's 11th grade and I am in international relations class. I'm the sole person arguing a certain progressive point of view against three senior boys. I present my point, which is rooted in equal parts facts and figures as well as morality and human-rights expectations. Before I can finish, though, the boys have started yelling.

One boy attempts to invalidate my point completely. "In what world would that even be a legitimate response?" he questions me loudly and angrily in front of the whole class. Another guy in the back of the room yells, "Samira, just quit while you're barely ahead!" The senior boys laugh approvingly and sneer. They usually shut down Mr. Back-of-the-Room, but today they cheer him on. After all, it looks as if he, too, is trying to take down the girl, to get me to stop arguing.

Bernie's candidacy is no revolution. Every smart woman knows what it feels like to have a man yell at her when she says something smart. This is why I'm supporting Clinton, and there are many other girls like me who know exactly what she's up against.

We live Clinton's experience every day, even though our struggles against ordinary sexism are not "sexy" to report. We understand, and nod, thankfully, when Madeleine Albright stands onstage with Clinton and says "there is a special place in hell for women who don't help each other," or when Madeleine Kunin writes in the Boston Globe about the sexism she had to deal with when Sanders ran against her in Vermont. We recognize the sexist tropes launched against Clinton and repeated uncritically in the media.

It is hip right now, we are told, to be a young woman who supports Bernie. This doesn't mean, though, that it is politically good or that a shouting candidate would be an advantageous choice for our democracy. The excitement about revolution reminds me of former Sen. Harris Wofford's description of "the anti-politics that spread in 1968 and became a wave after Watergate." All of a sudden, women who "feel the Bern" are dismissing Planned Parenthood as a hardened member of establishment politics, just because Bernie said so. These women feel the injustice of 21st-century womanhood. And they claim the need for a revolution, rather than hunker down and continue the long work of figuring out the best way to accomplish feminist progress within our American political system.

I've volunteered for the Clinton campaign since the summer. When I met Clinton, she shook my hand — and the hand of my new friend who is also a high school senior and a campaign volunteer. Clinton told us that she, too, had started as a volunteer, and quickly outlined the next few steps of how you rise in politics. She confirmed our path, and brought us into her circle.

At every campaign event, I have met women of diverse backgrounds who have inspired me. From these women I've received helpful tips, offers of internships, and compliments on my skills. I didn't know such experiences existed, and yet, here I am, being pulled into a network of women who support other women. Women — yes, younger women, too — support Clinton because she's building for us what men have always had: the networks and guidance we need to be successful, and the vision that women can help one another.

The media may not want to cover this type of revolution, of women who really care about other women. They prefer to pit young women against older, and declare that young women hate feminists. However, the real story is that of politically minded young women who don't want anger and the loudest shouts ruling the day. Angry bros are the kind of thing that silence us as girls and women, and mute the nuances of smart political thought.

Samira Baird is a senior at Springside Chestnut Hill Academy in Philadelphia.