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This weekend, Democrats from across the state are converging on the Hilton Hawaiian Village for their biennial state convention. Like the Hawaii Republican Party’s version, which took place earlier this month, it’s an opportunity for the party faithful to mingle with candidates, hear from elected officials, debate ideas and conduct party business.

At their best, these gatherings are vibrant spectacles of democratic engagement. At their worst, they’re echo chambers for toxic partisanship. Either way, they can influence our elections and shouldn’t be ignored.

My relationship with party conventions is tumultuous and long-standing. In 2010, a year after I joined the Republican Party, the collection of youthful, first-time candidates who lined the convention stage inspired me to run for office myself.

The following year, the convention elected me chair of coordinated campaigns, which made me the automatic successor to the state party chair, a position I assumed after the chair’s resignation.

Two years later, I stood on the same stage with a crowd wearing T-shirts emblazoned with my name hoping that my second state House candidacy would be a success. Eventually, I served with two of the candidates, Aaron Johanson and Richard Fale, who had inspired me to run in the first place.

When I was new to politics, conventions felt exciting. We argued over who should be the next state chair. We determined who would represent the state party at national events.

And, as candidates, we engaged in a friendly competition over how many volunteers stood by your side and who worked the room better. In both parties, conventions bring the dedicated base together, providing a space to build camaraderie amongst volunteers, donors, candidates and other party affiliates.

When I joined the Democratic party, conventions were especially important because they gave me a chance to meet face-to-face with members and prove myself after my party switch.

In this way, conventions remain an important part of our democratic processes. They facilitate a community-centric, grassroots approach to politics at a time when national elections loom largest. They amplify the voices of ordinary party members who could have a seat at the same table as a U.S. senator simply because they live in the same house district.

This year, Democratic convention-goers will determine who will cast the party’s votes in August’s presidential-nominating Democratic National Convention. In a non-presidential year, those convention goers decide who will be ultimately responsible for planning and funding the state’s presidential caucuses, which is the only way Hawaii citizens can express their preference for the party’s nominee.

However, as I mentioned, my relationship with conventions isn’t all rosy.

A convention should be more than a gathering of like-minded individuals. Delegates shape the party’s platform and agenda. Resolutions are drafted, policies are refined and priorities are set.

When I initially joined the Republican Party in 2009, delegates would engage in spirited discussions. I spent years fighting for a moderate party that better reflected Hawaii’s values, and most of my major battles took place at state conventions amongst dedicated party members.

In 2016, when I stood on the convention stage as the House Republican leader and refused to endorse Donald Trump, the chorus of shouts, taunts and boos told me the party’s direction was no longer up for debate. The state Republican party was an echo chamber, and I didn’t belong inside of it.

In the end, a state party convention is more than a political event; it’s a microcosm of democracy itself.

While the Republican Party in Hawaii has erased most opposition to the national Republican agenda, local Democratic conventions still showcase a broad range of ideas and an ongoing tension between moderates, liberals and progressives that spills into healthy debates over policies, platforms and power structures.

One of the primary outcomes of both parties’ convention is a list of positions and priorities intended to guide candidates and elected officials.

Of course, Hawaii’s open primary system means that party positions hold less power over politicians because registered members are not the only voters to determine a party’s general election candidate.

Yet the debate or lack of debate indicates the diversity of ideas a party can bring to the table if given the opportunity to govern.

In our state the Democratic supermajority is proving more that it’s not an ideological monolith, while Republican elected officials are increasingly coalescing around their party’s national stances on abortion, guns and parental rights.

At its core, a state party convention reaffirms the party’s identity and purpose, amplifying the voices of ordinary party members who are the bedrock for effective political mobilization and advocacy. In the end, a state party convention is more than a political event; it’s a microcosm of democracy itself.

It rests on the principles of inclusivity, participation and civic engagement that are the cornerstone of a healthy democratic society, but it can fall prey to the same trappings of polarization and ideological rigidity.