Why aren’t more people crying with me? Trump Election Reflections
Waking up on November 6th felt isolating. Unlike Trump’s election in 2016, the tone was acquiescence, not anger. Scrolling through my phone, I was met with the familiar chorus of empty resolve: roll up your sleeves, don’t throw up your hands. Yet, as I looked around, it became clear: there were too few silver linings and far too much at stake.
In this election, we handcuffed our future. Our capacity to confront the urgent specter of climate change is now limited, leaving us vulnerable to greater wildfires, searing heat waves, and relentless droughts. The stewardship of public lands is now in the hands of those who seek to exploit rather than revere. The right of women to make choices about their own bodies remains in jeopardy. Immigrants, who carry dreams of becoming part of the American story, now face a gauntlet of barriers. The vision of a society free from military-style assault weapons on our streets will remain out of reach. Voting rights will be under siege. Hard-won protections for LGBTQ+ individuals may disappear. Education is poised to be reshaped by ideology. To feel the weight of these truths is human. To admit we are not okay is honest.
Be angry. This election was a test of our moral backbone, a test of our collective memory. Donald Trump ran a campaign that bulldozed the boundaries of decency and decorum. While in office, he was unfit for the presidency. How do we so easily erase the echoes of January 6th? The battering on the doors, the raw defilement of our Capitol's halls. He has turned discourse into theater, where shouting drowns out reason and dialogue is replaced by derision.
I ran for Congress to confront these policy challenges. Now we have to lower the bar of what can be accomplished.
I’m frustrated by the argument that the Democratic Party doesn’t speak to what Americans want. Who doesn’t want to stand up for shared moral values—values that resonate deeply with the moral teachings shared across many faiths. We bring a vision of a country rooted in equality, compassion, stewardship, and justice. We stand for welcoming the outsider, embracing those who seek refuge, extending care to the sick, and safeguarding our land for future generations.
It is frustrating when people argue that the Democratic Party ignores the state of the economy. Since Biden took office, Americans have secured more jobs, real wages have risen, and hundreds of thousands of factory jobs have come back. The stock market has climbed, and entrepreneurs have formed new businesses at near-record rates. Our economy is growing faster than comparable countries. While grocery prices and inflation spiked during COVID, prices have now leveled off. So, which economic indicators are critics looking at when they make this claim?
Don’t be quick to assign blame. I, too, wish there was a simple target for blame. Kamala Harris was overqualified to be President. In a matter of months, she assembled an expansive field team, raised $1 billion (more than Barack Obama or Hillary Clinton during their full campaigns), and reached millions of voters through phone calls and written letters. Her efforts far outpaced Trump’s. In my town alone, we mailed over 500,000 letters to battleground states.
Two questions remain unanswered for me:
Can we find a path to elect a moderate candidate? Can we elect leaders who are not on the extreme ends of either party and who are willing to compromise? The recent election cycle revealed a troubling truth: Democratic turnout was weak, leaving us to question whether moderation can still inspire the electorate. Must we resort to promising extreme tax cuts or sweeping stimulus packages to ignite voter enthusiasm? Or can we craft a vision that balances reality with bold solutions? As Dwight D. Eisenhower said, “The middle of the road is all of the usable surface. The extremes, right and left, are in the gutters.”
Can we finally break the glass ceiling by electing a woman as President? In my heart, the answer is yes. But speaking to undecided voters leads to doubts. While door knocking in Phoenix, I found sometimes these reservations emerge openly, which is disheartening; other times, they surface in subtler, implicit ways. “I’m not sure Kamala would be able to stand up to dictators like Putin,” they say, or they wonder, “Would the military trust her?”
I don’t have all the answers. I’m still raising my hands.
I’m ready to roll up my sleeves, but I need a plan first. Too often, we hear people say the day after an election, “Today is when we fight,” or “Today is when the real work begins,” but those words fall silent when it’s time for action. They’re absent from city council meetings, phone banking, lit drops, picket lines, and the real work of mobilizing change. We cannot find comfort in words alone.
In her concession speech, Vice President Harris said that you need a dark sky to see the stars. We will need more than stars. We will need comets and meteors that light up the dark sky. Let’s not twinkle over the next four years.
