I recently went to a Bernie Sanders rally. I left work early to wait in line and in the stadium for 5 hours with 20,000 people. I waited for 5 hours and left about 20 minutes into his stump speech. I was far from the only one who left early.

Bernie Sanders’ platform is honest and idealistic and it strikes resonant chords within me. But they are not new ideas; rather, they are the political and policy goals I have always hoped for but never heard from a person in his position. He didn’t come up with the ideas of universal single-payer healthcare, free college, anti-force and pro-diplomacy foreign policy, transparent sensible campaign finance laws, responsible environmental stewardship, or advocacy for the marginalized, underpriviledged, and disenfranchised. I wouldn’t be surprised if he would be the first person to tell you he is no great thinker, no philosophical innovator, but rather a student of our better political ideas. The ideas that comprise his platform have always been with us but have not held prominent sway in the inner sanctums of the mighty American political system for a long time. As a result, disenfranchisement has grown for decades in this country leading us to our current state of affairs. Now the marginalized voices are increasing their volume and Bernie embodies the public resentment and reaction to the entrenched divide between the wealthy ruling class (and their apologists) and the working class.

Pundits and political thinkers often say that populism and populist candidates are opportunistic and without merit. “Their ideas are infeasible and appeal to the public’s desire for short term bread and circuses.” I reject this contention in today’s connected world. Today’s American public is more informed and educated than ever before and populism appeals to our intelligent selves, at least in Bernie’s case. The public (and Berners) do not seek bread and circuses; they seek a secure, peaceful, prosperous future for their old age and for future generations. And so they come in droves to rally around Bernie and his passion.

Despite that, I left early because I saw what I needed to see before Bernie even took the stage. Once he did arrive, I couldn’t help feeling disillusioned and even slightly disappointed with the actual Bernie appearance. Having followed his course of events obsessively, there is little doubt I have some Bernie fatigue but I think it goes beyond that. In this age of Vine and Snapchat and 24-hour news cycles and Donald Trump tweets and jaded audiences seeking endless excitement, Bernie seems wrung out. This man with the endurance of a machine seemed overworked and bored. Remember, this is a man who stood and spoke for 8.5 straight hours in filibuster on the Senate floor against extending Bush-era tax cuts and does rallies on both coasts in a single day. But his voice rasps, his jowls sag, and he appears as little more than a figurehead swept up by the fervor, shuttled about by his campaign staff, no longer in control of the movement he envisioned.

His love for the cause and his people is boundless, that is obvious, but how many times can one recite the lines with crowd-hyping inflection and make the familiar hand gestures before becoming a shadow of one’s previous self? Even earnest oration sounds trite and rehearsed when spoken or heard a thousand times. Who has heard the stump speech more than Bernie, himself? Hillary Clinton says she is not a “natural politician.” Who in the world can be when our media and political theatrics demand relentless noteworthiness and excitement? Not HRC. Not Bernie or Jeb! Perhaps no one except Donald Trump. And so, to my eyes, Bernie appeared withered by the campaign and media onslaught. Certainly he may not have appeared that way to others, but I am not them. And many others walked out early with me.

But thankfully, I realized that I wasn’t there for him. I was there for everyone else: the other 19,999 people who took time out of their busy lives to come together in search of a common voice and a better future. I was there to see the collection of tee shirt and button vendors trying to make a buck on the back of a democratic socialist’s rally. I saw these hustling vendors who would benefit from a living wage policy that could help counter the self-reinforcing income inequality of our country. I was there to see the old hippie couple remarking that this millennial political rally felt like the counterculture music festivals of their heyday. Those two people still hold out for the triumph of humanist diplomacy over warfare and forced regime change despite all the years to the contrary. I was there to see the woman with the ballooning ankles who wondered if we young people knew about Paul Simon as the pre-rally playlist passed through one of his optimistic songs.

I was there to listen to the son of Korean immigrants whale on his ukulele, singing a happy song about his parents. He used to be a schoolteacher and dreams of a world where unbounded, private money can’t determine our political direction. I was there to see Danny Glover do a bumbling, hyping introduction for Bernie because he is committed to social justice.

I came to see the young girl who didn’t know who Danny Glover was and wore helter skelter clothes and had “RECKLESS” scrawled on her back in black lipstick. Those of us who never fully bought into social convention have been her at least a little bit at some point in our lives. And although she doesn’t yet know who she’ll be, she understands what a better future feels like and where good people are.

I was there to see the Muslims for Bernie signholders (Bernie is of Jewish background). Those signholders believe in universal, single payer healthcare because they see health as a fundamental human right. In the past perhaps it wasn’t. But now that tax revenues and technological advances can enable that right, they think it is absurd that a broken leg or depression or a clump of malignant cells can place anyone under the thumb of healthcare company shareholders that demand growth and ever wealthier retirement. I was there because it was a place where young children could run around and play in the grassy field despite being surrounded by strangers. The parents of those children dream of free, earned college. These people don’t want Medicare-for-all and free college because they’re freeloaders or feel entitled; they want it so that they are afforded the opportunity to pursue their passions, through which they can contribute the most to their society. They understand that our future demands an educated workforce and that we have the tax dollars to avoid paralyzing healthcare and student debt.

I was there because I hope with every ounce of my being that we have the foresight to acknowledge that climate change requires our immediate and undaunted attention. I was there because solar energy is at grid parity, energy efficiency is a vast, untapped resource, and because our natural world demands protection from our short term interests.

We were all there to see each other. So was Bernie, who has dedicated his life and left his home on our behalf. I’m sure someone out there could write this way about a Trump rally or a Clinton rally, but these are my people so I write about them. We want Bernie for his honesty and the ideas he espouses, but it is truly about the ideas and not the man. We want politics to be boring again and not about obstructionism, rule bending, soundbites, and bombast. So, I’m glad I waited 5 hours to see the people I waited with. They absolutely must continue to fight for a progressive future. They must work together to narrow and bridge the widening gap between the powerful and the seemingly powerless before it becomes a runaway chasm into which both sides fall.

As I was leaving, people were still streaming in.