Let's get one thing straight. These kids at Bernie Sanders rallies aren't idealists. They're realists.

They fully understand their debt and their job prospects. They see the inevitable deferment of their American dream.

Before they were "Feeling the Bern," many felt the burn of the latest recession, through their parents' eyes.

They saw their parents' "529s" tank with the market and their homes go "underwater."

They grew up hearing about rising healthcare contributions for diminishing coverage, and pay cuts and pension freezes.

They know people who were downsized, or took early retirement, or all the other euphemisms for getting laid off. Or outright lost their homes in the bundled mortgage calamity.

For these kids, it all adds up to more borrowing for college, which adds up to less future money for homes, cars, appliances, etc.

They know their collective trillion dollars of debt - and their exposure to credit-killing mishaps in the form of late or missed payments - will grind down our consumption-based economy.

Socialists? Call them survivalists, trying to find some balance as the economic rug is yanked out from under their feet.

MORE: Recent Mark Di Ionno columns

"We all were told education is the most important thing in your life," said Sweta Devarajan, the 21-year-old daughter of Indian immigrants. "It's disheartening to know that all the promises of going to college aren't available to you anymore."

Here's something even more disheartening.

"My parents came here from India when I was three months old," said the Rutgers junior, who grew up in East Brunswick. "And now my mother says, 'Be prepared to go anywhere. America may not be the place.'

"She said, 'You might have to go back to India to get an American job.'"

Devarajan said this while waiting for Sanders in the Rutgers Athletic Center Sunday. It was just after 2 p.m. and she was using the three hours before Sanders spoke to study for an exam in her major, exercise physiology.

"People say we're lazy and entitled, but look at how many kids are here studying for exams," she said. "You know what's sad? No one says, 'We've got to power through (exams) to do well and get a job.' They say, 'Why bother? There're no jobs out there.'"

Idealists? Socialists? Or fatalists?

Patrick Ambrosio, too, was studying for a physics exam, working on a laptop as he waited for Sanders. He's 22, graduating with a math degree, and says he watched his mother's state job disappear during cuts by Gov. Chris Christie.

"I definitely got the message from her that things are tough out there," he said.

Ram Tirumala was there with his son, Ranga, a Rutgers freshman.

"I left India 30 years ago because of political corruption," said the father, who once served on the North Brunswick school board. "Now I see the same thing here. I worry about the disparity between the rich and poor. It's not good for a society. I see laws being made funded by the wealthy to benefit the wealthy."

Tirumala is no disgruntled worker. He owns an engineering firm. But Sanders stance on universal healthcare appeals to him.

"A few years ago it cost me $65,000 a year to give my employees very good coverage," he said. "Now it costs $200,000 and the coverage is not as good."

In the lead-up to Sanders' speech, the crowd broke out in chants of "This is what democracy looks like" several times.

The crowd was also what the American demographic looks like. The socialists next door.

There were senior citizens, children and more millennials than any other age group. There were more whites than minorities, maybe two to one. This being Rutgers - and Middlesex County - there were many more East Asians than Hispanics or African-Americans. The crowd cheered equally as Sanders listed the groups whose rights he would protect: the urban and rural poor, the LGBT community, veterans, Muslims, immigrants and Native Americans.

A scan of the crowd showed pairings you don't see at other rallies.

A guy with a maroon Army Airborne beret shoulder-to-shoulder with a kid whose Rutgers hat was on backwards.

A young girl in a blue hijab clapping and chanting "I believe we will win" alongside a middle-aged white man in a tie-dyed Sanders shirt. A guy with a gray ponytail next to a guy with black dreadlocks.

They began lining up early Sunday morning and in the hours before the doors opened at 2, the lines stretched and wound through the parking lots. The RAC holds 8,000 and the seas weren't filled, but there were 2,000 people on the floor. So let's call it 8,000.

The Sanders people know their wide-ranging audience. The campaign t-shirts, hats and buttons they sell say it all.

There's one shirt with the red, white and blue Dead Head skull logo, for the children of 60s and 70s.

There's a Superman themed shirt for the Comic-Con crowd.

One has a Pabst Blue Ribbon logo - also red, white and blue -- that says Bernie (Bleeping) Sanders for the shot-and-beerers, no matter what their age.

A "Women for Bernie" button has Rosie the Riveter on it.

American icons, all.

There's a not-so-subtle message in that. It says Sanders is as American as, well, all of the above.

And what he sells is as American as apple pie: fairness and the promise of opportunity.

Ideology aside, he's tapped into the same thing Donald Trump has. Their followers believe their America is slipping through their fingers and regular politicians won't stop it. Nothing will, short of the political revolution both represent.

Trump is in. Sanders might not be able to win, but the way he's closed on Hillary Clinton makes you wonder, what if this campaign marathon were a little longer? And what if he starts his 2020 run now?

Mark Di Ionno may be reached at mdiionno@starledger.com. Follow The Star-Ledger on Twitter @StarLedger and find us on Facebook.