A Place To Start, When It Feels Like We're At the End
While Republicans dismantle everything, we must build from the ground up - because no one is coming to save us.
It’s 10:49 a.m. Monday morning. That’s almost exactly 24 hours after I hit send on yesterday’s post about the Republican Party’s rush to pass Trump’s Big Beautiful Bill.
We’re Losing More Than Healthcare. We’re Losing Our Humanity.
It’s 9:51am on Sunday, June 29th as I’m writing this. Right now, in Washington DC, the Senate parliamentarian is reading aloud the full text of Trump’s “Big Beautiful Bill.”
And y’all, they still haven’t voted on the final bill.
That’s because Democrats, in a last-ditch effort, forced the Senate parliamentarian to read every word of the nearly 1,000-page bill out loud on Sunday. Then came the debate. And now, we’re knee-deep in a "vote-a-rama". That’s a cutesy Washington term for an all-day, all-night amendment free-for-all before the final vote.
So, if somehow you’re just tuning in, about five months into Trump’s presidency, hoping that this might still be stopped, I hate to be the one to tell you, but Democrats cannot stop this bill. Not legislatively. Not procedurally. Not with a floor speech or a filibuster or a damn Hail Mary. The only thing left is for a handful of Republicans to look their donors in the face and say, “No.”
And I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of betting the well-being of working people on that kind of hope.
Tired of watching the people in power treat cruelty like a policy position.
Tired of yelling into the void every time one more provision gets added to the pile. Republicans wanting to gut Medicaid, raiding Medicare, or handing more tax cuts to billionaires while people lose access to their insulin and their kids' school lunch programs.
Tired of pretending that this is normal.
But I’m also tired of us getting our backs up against the wall, again and again, without a plan to build something better from the bottom up.
And that's what I want to talk about.
Because here’s what happens in states like mine Tennessee every election cycle.
We get excited when we have a strong congressional candidate, a well-known Senate challenger, a real shot at flipping a red seat. We rally. We organize. We scrape together what little institutional support we get. And when those candidates lose (and let’s be honest, they almost always do in places that are R+10, R+15, R+20) we feel like all that energy, all that money, all that work was wasted.
It’s not wasted. But it is misplaced.
We are not going to rebuild our way out of authoritarianism by praying for a Senate seat to magically flip in a state where we’ve let our local infrastructure collapse.
You don’t turn a red state purple from the top. You turn it from the roots.
That means showing up in your neighborhood school board meeting. It means knowing your county commissioner by name, and, ideally, replacing them with someone better. It means making the Democratic Party visible in places it’s disappeared. Not just in election years. Every day. Year-round.
In states where Republicans have a chokehold, this is how we start to breathe again.
And if you live in Tennessee, let me put this as plainly as I can: Every single county commission seat in the state is up for grabs in 2026. Every seat. That’s hundreds of races. Hundreds of chances to run. Hundreds of places where someone in your county can raise their hand and say, “I’m here, I care, and I’m not leaving.”
And you don’t have to wait for permission from anyone to get started.
You just need a reason.
Not Everyone Should Run for Office
I’ve been doing this work for a while now - organizing in red states, running local campaigns, and working alongside candidates who are trying to do something that feels impossible: win, or at the very least, build power in places where Democrats are written off before they even show up.
The Questions No One Asks (But Every Potential Candidate Should Answer)
Everyone wants you to run. Until you do.
Maybe you’re a parent who’s fed up with how the school system is being starved while voucher bills float around Nashville.
Maybe you’re a nurse or a home health worker who’s watched Medicaid cuts gut your patients’ care and your community’s stability.
Maybe you’re just a human being with a conscience who’s sick of watching the people in charge hand tax breaks to the top 1% while the rest of us struggle to keep the lights on.
Whatever it is… hold onto it. Write it down. Let it anchor you. Because running for office isn’t about having the most polished campaign or the perfect resume. It’s about having something to fight for. Something to protect.
And right now, we need fighters in every county. Not just candidates, but people rooted in their community.
People who know the issues firsthand and aren’t afraid to speak plainly about them.
People who don’t wait for the cavalry to come riding in. People who are the cavalry.
So if you’ve ever even considered running, now’s the time to start thinking seriously. You’ve got time to plan. You’ve got time to build. And you’ve got people - like me, and others across this state - who are working to make sure you’re not doing it alone.
We are not powerless.
They might be voting right now on a bill that will hurt people. But we get to vote too. Not just at the ballot box, but every time we show up, speak out, and organize.
Every time we knock a door. Every time we run for office. Every time we remind our neighbors that there is another way.
Let’s get to work.
