Being from California, it’s easy to take a lot for granted. I’ve long considered it a “liberal mecca” and think that, outside of smaller ballot measures, there’s no concern that The Golden State will backslide. We knew that Xavier Becerra would win governor over three months ago. To look at the midterm elections in 2026, I’d say they were overall anticlimactic. They’re essential parts of democracy, but I’m not living with day-to-day dread. The fact that I have strong affection for one of our local congressmen, Robert Garcia, shows you how much was not at stake. I’d trust him to do the right thing because he’s proven in the past capable of fighting for the common man.
If that was where the story ended, I wouldn’t have needed to write an essay. Instead, there’s more that came with turning on the TV that Tuesday evening and taking in the onslaught of changing numbers. It’s a gambler’s dilemma. To turn away is to risk jinxing a worse fate, maybe not for me but for the larger country. Stay tuned. Witness history. Commercial break is coming up soon. Get your leftover Halloween candy then. Suddenly the aspects out of my control that I, legally, could never sway begin to feel more immense. I’ve given up being on social media during these hours because, two years ago, I was spending it in a nonstop pit of friends crying doomsday rhetoric. Some seemed suicidal, like maybe the world was finally tipping over into that prophecy we were promised 12 years before. I would talk with them in a few hours, but only after my own opinions had settled for the night.
Something important to understand about me is that I have a deep-rooted guilt over working at a polling station in 2016. To be clear, I did everything fairly and honestly, believing in the process’ potential for citizen-based change. I may have seen dozens, if not one or two hundred, people that day walk in and submit their votes. I feel pride in that aspect. It’s just, no matter how much I try to rationalize my place in the system, I think of myself as an enabler, the domino that led to the current circumstance. I’m sure the percentage from this location couldn’t even sway the district, but if every vote matters, why would I take part in helping elect a man that, even then, I saw as dishonest? Sure, both candidates were flawed, but getting to 9 PM that night felt like a puncture wound that everything I volunteered for wasn’t enough to believe the system could be upheld.
It’s why I’ve spent most of the past decade losing zeal for theatrics. It was fun when I believed, from inside this “liberal mecca” bubble, that wisdom would surpass ignorance, but I had yet to comprehend dissonance on that scale. Still, I watched as discourse got more toxic to the point that things I often joked about were now deadly serious, like the melting pot nature of this country was no longer manageable. Sure, I’ve been optimistic about those who spend their lives fighting for change, who make those small differences, but for a decade now I’ve watched the man who won that 2016 election contradict everything I understood. Even with something as simple as America 250, he chose to distract with talk of broken reflecting pools. Has any proper legislation happened in the past two years? I don’t know.
And yet, as I’ve done my best to drown out the miserable taunts, I still see the campaigns running on hypermasculinity, misogyny, and racism the likes of which my 27-year-old self wanted to believe we were past. Despite every controversy that more pronounced commentators will share, I believed that the “blue wave” scenario wouldn’t change that much. We’d get to the end of the night, and patterns would hold as they had and, like whatever change you could attribute to 2018’s midterm, would amount to a hill of beans. Nobody would face accountability. The vicious cycle starts again.
I try to be an optimist, but there’s stuff that numbs you to giving up hope just because the preceding news predicts favorability. I’ve never seen a president this dispassionate about Senate control before and do so much to argue against his own well-being. It’s not the name-calling. It’s not the sexualization of elderly men. It’s not even the false promise of briberies. Everything felt like Saturday Night Live sketches where he was there even if the bit didn’t ask for him. It's like he’s returning to form as a TV character less concerned about avoiding plot contrivances and just going for highwire drama. Does it make sense? Who cares. This is his idea of good ratings and, no matter how often you change the channel, he will be there because he forcefully crippled the competition.
Some things were to be expected on election night. Becerra winning was all too obvious, especially against a candidate who never had a great plan besides finger-pointing and drilling coastal oil. With that said, there was that naïve side that always believes something could be different this time. The pattern could break you free of this stupor and show you signs of humanity flocking back to the masses. As much as I say I’ve given up believing that change before 2028 was possible, I can’t help but give in to addictive patterns of watching the numbers escalate. As banal as it sounds, watching something fall into place and develop is more exciting than the payoff because uncertainty is painful while also fueling some delusional subconscious. You think, let something go right just this once and, even when it does, you’re convinced that the La La Land (2016) producer will run out at 1 AM and point out some newfound error.
It is wrong to believe that one party will course correct what ails the country. However, some catharsis emerged gradually throughout the night. As someone who has only heard stories of the difficulties of red states, the immensity of moments like Texas turning blue or the liberal pastor from Kansas achieving something not done since the 1930s makes you realize that people are complex. They’re not just one-sided. I will not pretend to know what platform they ran on, but it’s a far cry from knowing the finer details of that Ohio guy’s buttocks. There was some greater sense of dignity there. It’s the stuff that makes you believe, even as institutions seem to crumble, that democracy can be reborn.
More than any specific individual candidate, one thing is worth mentioning: the sense of hope that has returned to this nation. For years now, there’s been a sense of defeat, like we were all Sisyphus and the boulder could murder us if we didn’t keep rolling it up the hill. I’ve fought the idea of giving in to despair for my own sanity, yet this might be the moment when my brain allows some hyperbole. Taking a deep breath, I’ll hopefully read about new precedents forming in these states where restrictions are lifted and, in their place, are the type of laws I’ve long taken for granted. I’m not sure the opposition will disappear or (ideally) immediately change their hearts, but I want to believe this era of experimentation allows for those reluctant to liberal ideology to see certain facets less as demonic and more helpful to a greater society’s growth. Again, don’t ask me how. I choose not to engage with local politics from other states. However, I do have general beliefs for what could make society better, and hearing interviews from those directly impacted shows why we need to keep fighting. Sometimes, as seen here, it can work.
Not only does it work, but it creates the vision of America that was long ago taught to me. We will have indigenous governors, queer and trans senators, Muslim senators, and women in charge in many states for the first time. Not only that, but many contradict the fear-mongering of the past decade. They’re capable of seeing religion as a unifying tool and not some exclusive club. There are ways to unite people and return to my ideal vision of government: compromise. For too long it’s been the smash-and-grab technique. What we have now is shattered glass and the memory of what we lost. I’m tired of being that heartless. Let’s hope that as the old guard fades, we learn to respect each other again.
Part of me is still doubtful that everything will course correct from here. It’s been too long witnessing misfires. However, the numbers are looking better than they ever have. If there’s a time to strike, it’s now. In light of his win, Robert Garcia commented in two words what the president couldn’t in two pages: lawyer up. If the blue wave is to hit the shores of D.C., I hope it’s to wash away the muck and put it where it belongs. Otherwise, this midterms election night might’ve not ceased my worry, but has made me more hopeful for wherever the future will take everything not just for me, but for everyone else in this great nation we all deserve to call home.
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