I Want To Believe

I think it was when Eric Adams got elected that I lost faith in the system. It's kind of funny - you'd think it would have been Trump 1 or Trump 2 - but really it was Adams that broke me. Here was an obviously corrupt and incompetent candidate in one of the most progressive cities in America with two or three perfectly valid other candidates that by all accounts should have at the very least won in the later round of ranked choice voting. Instead we elected the vibes and bitcoin guy who naturally near-immediately started doing crimes and slashing social services. After reading David Daley's Ratfucked I had accepted that on the national level we don't functionally live in a democracy, but I still wanted to find solace and purpose in local elections, trying to make the world around me better in some small way. After Adams that didn't really feel possible either.

I used to care about politics more than anything. I volunteered for Obama before I could vote. I canvassed, called, did the whole nine yards for years. I even interned for Joe Manchin (the senator from West Virginia) after my junior year of college - I never much liked Manchin's politics but I thought it could be a pathway to becoming a politician in my home state, to making folk's lives better. Seeing how the Senate worked - the utter indifference most of our elected representatives have to the lives of their constituents - scared me off of that path, but I still cared.

When they sent tanks to Ferguson I moved to the left. I joined the DSA, volunteered for Bernie, made calls for AOC and Zohran and all the left candidates whose values I shared. And we were winning! We still are, for that matter! Just some combination of everything in 2020 broke the part of me that cared so deeply. COVID, BLM, and everything happening that year opened a window where the change I'd wanted for so long really seemed possible on a national level. Then Adams got elected and we slowly went back to normal and pretended the pandemic never killed a million people. Companies and elected officials quietly walked back their commitments to racial justice. And the vibes mayor continued making the city I live just a little bit worse.

I swore to myself after everything seemed to fall apart that I'd stop getting so invested. And I did. I still show up to protests when I can and go out to vote, but never with the enthusiasm I used to have, or even any particular hope that things will get better. Since the pandemic life has mostly beaten out whatever little flickers of hope still lived in me. And I am lesser for it. I don't like that I've stopped caring. I don't like not believing better things will happen. But the fact is that for most of the last five years that's been the case. Until last night.

Zohran Mamdani is my age. We graduated college in the same year. While that makes me deeply question what I'm doing with my life, it also feels like a sea change. The presumptive front-runner for the mayor of the largest city in America is a 33-year-old proud socialist who refuses to compromise on trans rights, freedom for the Palestinian people, economic justice, and all the other things I have believed in for so long. I am close to tears as I write that sentence. I really didn't think this could happen in my lifetime.

There is a lesson here, for those willing to listen. Zohran is the closest a politician has been to Obama (in terms of tone, not policy) since he left office. He has incredible message and camera discipline. He keeps pushing on messages of hope and change. He refuses to compromise on what he believes in. He seems genuine, likeable, and clearly isn't in the pocket of anyone but his constituents. He wants to work with everyone, and keeps driving the message that you may not agree with him on every issue but he genuinely wants the best for you (if you're a normal person and not one of the billionaire freaks that owns this city). He cross-endorsed all his opponents to make sure Cuomo wouldn't win. He's doing everything right!

I was at Zohran's launch party by accident. A friend had their birthday party at the same bar. It was a few dozen people in the back room of the bar, who believed in what they were doing. I didn't. I remember someone asking me who they were and saying "Oh, that's Zohran. He's a cool guy and I'm gonna vote for him but no way he'll win." I have never in my life been so happy to be proven wrong. This is thanks to his tireless work and the work of the 75,000 people who he inspired to get out and get him elected.

Over the last few weeks I have felt that little flicker of hope start to rise again. Seeing him rise in the polls. Seeing everyone talking about him as though he had a real chance. Meeting a DSA volunteer at a friend's place who was already sure Zohran would win the primary and was starting to worry about the general. I even turned on the mayoral debate - another thing I promised myself I'd stop doing after 2020. It felt good. It felt good to care about civic life again. It felt good to know that so many other people were still carrying a torch I dropped five years ago. It felt pretty bad, to be honest, that I'd dropped it in the first place.

But this is just the beginning of this fight. I know all the people who threw their weight and wealth behind Cuomo are already mobilizing to stop anything good from ever happening. There is still a long hill to climb, and I guess it's about time I started climbing it again. So I'll pick up that torch again and make calls and knock doors and do whatever I can to fight for someone I really believe in. Better things are possible. Last night reminded me of that, and I don't plan on forgetting again soon. Hope to see you in the streets.