Democratic Presidential hopeful Sen. Hillary Rodham Clinton speaks on stage during a campaign rally in downtown Washington launching 'Club 44,' an effort to reach out to young women. (AP Photo/Pablo Martinez)

"Did you watch the debate?" Ellen Malcolm of EMILY's List asked the thousand-person crowd. "There is a stage full of all these white men in their power suits and ties, and standing in the middle is the power of Hillary Clinton!"

White men? Oops!

As much as the Clinton campaign would like to ignore the senator from Illinois and his own claim as a historical first, the competing demands of identity politics were very much on the minds of young voters who came out to see Clinton in downtown Washington, many of whom described themselves as torn between the gravitas of Clinton's health care and diplomatic experience and the excitement surrounding the Barack Obama campaign.

The Washington Post's Dana Milbank filed a snark-filled report on the event, but his takedown of the musical acts (yes, they were cheesy) and baby boomer politicos trying to party with 20-somethings didn't do justice to the enthusiasm of hundreds of young people in attendance. Milbank must not have left the partitioned section near the stage for journalists and donors. Because closer to the food tables in the back, young office workers, interns, and high school students were thoughtfully considering Hillary's appeal as a different -- and specifically a feminine -- kind of leader.

As 2006 American Idol runner-up Katherine McPhee crooned an overwrought cover of Alanis Morissette's depressive "Mary-Jane" ("since Hillary is such an advocate for women and stuff, I think this song is perfect," McPhee said), 20-year old Anjali Chavan, an Ohio State University student interning in D.C. for the summer, said she had no qualms with voting for Clinton because she's female.

"I honestly feel that no man can understand what it's like to be a woman and represent half the population unless you go through the same issues we go through," she said. "It's nice to have a viable woman candidate."

Her companion, Duke University student Olivia Singelmann, said, "I'm still undecided, but I really like everything Hillary stands for. It's exciting to have this woman candidate who's so good and would be a great champion for women's issues. I'm really concerned about reproductive rights."

Both women admitted they looked skeptically at Clinton's record on Iraq and liked Obama, but said they are drawn to Clinton's candidacy nonetheless. "As an African American woman, I wouldn't just vote for Hillary because she's a woman and I wouldn't just vote for Barack because he's African American. I think both candidates are really good at talking about a wide array of issues," Singelmann said.

Laura Harris, a 23-year old marketing associate in Tyson's Corner, Va. whose face was obscured by giant Chanel sunglasses, called Obama "motivational. I would really like to see Hillary and Barack as president and vice president."

According to the Harvard Institute of Politics' survey of voters between 18 and 24, although Obama leads Clinton by 6 points among young Democrats, she bests him by 6 points among young women. Democratic women of all ages and races favor Clinton over Obama by a stunning 25 point margin. Considering this early success among female voters, traditionally a swing constituency, it's no surprise the Clinton campaign is continuing its "mommy mantra" strategy -- political appeals based on stereotypical notions of femininity combined with references to women's inherent strength.

Dolores Huerta, co-founder of the United Farm Workers, told the crowd that because women have been trusted since the dawn of civilization to care for children, they are best equipped to care for the world. Former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright adopted the vocabulary of a women's magazine to boast of how good Clinton is at "talking" and "dialogue" and solving conflicts. "We have to talk to everybody," she said. "Talking is not appeasement, talking is how countries solve their problems. We have got to get into a dialogue. And Hillary knows that women are an essential part of this dialogue."

The smirking, male, middle-aged pool reporters in the press section may not have been impressed by the "girl power" rhetoric, but younger men in the audience said they welcomed the opportunity to change history.

"I'd be proud of her being the first woman president," said Sean Corey, 33, a lawyer from Virginia and an undecided registered Democrat. "It would be historic. It would be pretty cool." Corey said his main voting issues were health care and the Iraq war, and that he was looking for a "fighting liberal." But unlike the stereotype of a young male Democrat typified by the netroots, Corey said he wouldn't disqualify Clinton because of her initial support for George W. Bush's war. "I'd like to see more unambiguous statements," he said. "I'd like to see her out in front more because I think the American people want that."

On health care, Corey sees the HillaryCare debacle as a well-earned battle scar, not evidence that Clinton would be too timid to enact real change this time around. "I think she got burned unfairly back in '93 and I hope that she doesn't take that to heart and leads the charge again," he said. "This time she'll kick their butts."

Of course, not every man in the audience was so informed. Two 16-year old boys from Washington's Woodrow Wilson High School said they came mostly because their Beltway parents were "Clinton fans from way back." They couldn't remember the details of Clinton's record on the war and admitted Obama had the energy among their peers, who'll be able to vote in the 2008 general election, but not in the primaries. Their pet issues? Iraq, public education, and college affordability.

At the end of the two-hour rally, Clinton appeared and gave a hurried though enthusiastic speech in a voice hoarse from campaigning. Workhorse that she is, she explained she had to rush back to the Senate floor to consider amendments to the immigration bill. Clinton exited the stage to the sounds of "Right Here, Right Now" by the British hair band Jesus Jones, last heard from in the early '90s, when most of the event's attendees were still in elementary school.

The tune is not one of the finalists in Clinton's quest for a popularly-elected campaign song, which might be for the best. Although the chorus is suitable for the first woman with a real shot at the presidency (Right here, right now, there is no other place I want to be/Right here, right now, watching the world wake up from history), the Clinton campaign better be ready to fight the first verse's depiction of their candidate: "A woman on the radio talks about revolution, when it's already passed her by."