I attended my first political fundraiser recently after deciding it was time to get more involved.
Early in the evening, the conversation turned to strategy: what should the Democratic Party do next? One seemingly reasonable man suggested the party needs to get angrier and start fighting dirtier. He spoke approvingly about recent AOC rallies and said he thought she might be the answer.
I told the group that I didn’t know a single person I’ve talked politics with at work who would vote for her. Sure, she might get more Democrats to the polls and even win an election, but then what? We’re still stuck in the same downward, tit-for-tat spiral: one side ramming things through while the other stonewalls. A never-ending cycle of resentment and revenge, flipping back and forth. That’s not a strategy; that’s a death spiral.
I said I think Democrats need to try something different. Maybe start by offering moderate, populist candidates who can better connect with working-class and rural voters. Maybe lead with one big, common-sense policy. Something slow-burning but ambitious that could eventually deliver more free and fair elections. Stop trying to fix everything all at once. Promise less, listen more. Get back to basics. Build trust from the ground up.
I told them that, in my experience, many of the people who lean Republican or even MAGA aren’t as unreasonable or unmovable as the group might think.
After I shared that, a well-meaning woman looked at me with a kind of gentle pity. She patted me on the back while the others giggled, as if to say, “Aww, it’s cute how naive you are, little boy, with your great big ideas.”
That moment stuck with me.
It reminded me that it wasn’t just my ideas they found silly. It was that they didn’t believe what I believe. That Americans can still unite. That we’re not past saving. That our politics doesn’t have to be so ugly and divided.
I’ve worked with people from all over the country; nearly all of them Republican, Independent, Libertarian, or disaffected. And I can tell you: Democrats are not speaking in their language.
Right now, the educated liberal class is buzzing about optimistic, wonky ideas like Abundance. Maybe that kind of thinking is part of the solution, but I can tell you who’s not listening to that book: my coworkers. They’re listening to Joe Rogan.
When Rogan endorsed Trump, I knew Trump was going to win. I had coworkers who weren’t big Trump fans, who had told me they weren’t planning to vote at all, but Rogan’s nod was good enough for them.
The Republican message has more successfully painted a picture of themselves as the party of the working class. And even if it’s mostly branding, it works. Despite having plenty of Ivy League credentials and country club roots, Republican candidates know how to put on a fishing shirt, slip into cowboy boots, and pander to rural grievances.
It doesn’t help that the people making laws no longer look like the people living under them.
A study from researchers Eric Hansen and Nicholas Carnes found that out of more than 7,300 lawmakers nationwide, just 116 (about 1.6%) currently or last worked in manual labor, service industry, clerical, or labor union jobs. In ten states including Texas, Arkansas, and North Carolina, not a single lawmaker came from a working-class background.
How can working people feel represented when no one who represents them knows what it’s like to do their jobs?
We need a broader coalition of Americans engaged in the democratic process, especially those who’ve tuned out completely. And we need to persuade more Republican voters to change their minds not through shame or scolding, but through common ground and shared values.
We need to vigorously call out real injustice when we see it, but we also need to stop dividing people with condescension. A good strategy doesn’t humiliate people. It lifts them up.
Condescending language doesn’t unite. It might get clicks or applause in the moment, but it won’t solve the deeper problems. If we want to live up to the American dream, we’ll have to do it together, even when we disagree.
This country isn’t full of unempathetic, evil people. It’s full of people who are tired, confused, frustrated and hoping that someone might actually see them.
Maybe I am naive. But I’m an American. I’m a Texan. And I was raised to dream big.
