I followed as closely as I could yesterday the conversation you tried to have with each other. And first, I want to thank you for your work. Without you, our national conversation on the topics of war and peace, accountability and human rights would be in a deeper ditch than the one Cindy camped out on in Crawford that first year. So first, thank you. You all give me hope that the welfare of our people is important to someone.

And maybe, that's all I should say. Our people have been victimized in so many ways these last seven years. We've been slaughtered at our desks, and drowned, and killed by IEDs, killed by preventable disease and by poverty. Today, it seems like a breakthrough that people who agree, as much as you all actually agree, would go to all the trouble of having a fight over us.

I will never forget the first time I heard each of you speak. Because you never promised solutions for all our ills -- instead, you each raised questions, important ones. And you evoked a vision of an American electorate that could locate its inherent power to care for itself. That is the strength that you fostered, that is the muscle we need to tone, flex and use.

Today, I felt downcast because my comrades in struggle have fallen out with each other. Peace. What movement hasn't met this moment? And we, being human, will have these moments. They are inevitable. Our challenge is to counter them despite the last upset, the last reaction, the last angry word, with the profound knowledge that our work is before us and that we share our commitment to that work. You all know that better, more deeply, than I do.

I submit, we can meet this moment with the strength and the respect and the history of struggle we share. The pressures that swirl around you all are mighty -- more than I will ever know in my small sphere. But, I trust you all to manage those currents and to continue to stand up for us.

Solidarity,

Elizabeth Ferrari

San Francisco