The People Just Sent a Message

It’s still early tonight, but I’ll admit, I feel hopeful.

The results are just starting to come in, but so far, they’re looking historic. It looks like California’s Prop 50 is going to pass, and that alone is a huge victory for democracy. I’ve said before that this was going to be a big sign, a signal of what’s ahead, and tonight that sign couldn’t be clearer.

Virginia, New Jersey, New York City, all showing strong results. And it looks like there’s good news out of the Pennsylvania Supreme Court, too. If these trends hold, this isn’t just a good night. It marks a real change in direction.

It’s the first time in a long time I’ve felt that familiar spark again, that quiet sense of relief that maybe, just maybe, we’re turning a corner.

Of course, this cuts both ways. The better this night goes for democracy, the worse it’s going to get for Trump and the people pulling his strings. These wins are going to make him nervous. Really nervous. I joked on Threads and Substack that there’s probably a lot of ketchup being thrown in the White House tonight, and honestly, it feels good to laugh. It feels good to have hope again.

Because it’s been a long, hard year.

I keep thinking back to that night, November 4th. I thought that was the end of Trump. I really did. I thought he’d disappear back into one of his golf clubs and we’d never have to hear his name again. I went to bed thinking it might take a few days to get all the results, but I was still hopeful.

Then I woke up early the next morning, like a lot of us did that day, and I looked at the TV, and it felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I’ve carried some version of that feeling ever since. It built and built until I couldn’t stay quiet anymore. That’s how all of this started. That’s how I started writing these posts.

I thought my years of travel writing could help me document what was happening, not as a journalist from the outside, but as someone living through it, refusing to look away. That I might be able to help bridge the distance between us, to show that we’re all standing on the same fragile ground. Because writing about travel was never really about the places, it was about the people. About the ways they lived, the histories they carried, the lessons they’d already learned from freedom slipping away, and how the loss of freedom doesn’t just scar a nation, it echoes through its children, its art, its silence.

So if you’re here, reading this, you’re probably coming from the same place. You’ve been carrying that same weight too. Which is why tonight, I think we’ve earned this moment. We’ve earned some good news.

And it’s looking, to me, like a clean sweep. This is a very, very good night for our country, a blue wave if you will, and it sends a clear message to every Republican member of Congress who’s been holding this government hostage. The American people are not sitting back. They’re not happy with the chaos or the cruelty. This gives Democrats more leverage to finally end the shutdown, restore health care subsidies, get people their paychecks, their SNAP benefits, and get air traffic controllers back to work.

And I think more good news is coming. I think we’re going to win a lot of things.

Tomorrow, though, brings its own anxiety. The Supreme Court is set to give direction on whether Trump can continue imposing tariffs, something that, legally, should fall to Congress. I’ll be holding my breath for that one. But that’s okay.

Because even if we lose that battle, we’re still winning the war for truth, decency, and democracy.

Trump posted something on Truth Social today:

“Tomorrow’s United States Supreme Court case is, literally, LIFE OR DEATH for our Country. With a Victory, we have tremendous, but fair, Financial and National Security. Without it, we are virtually defenseless against other Countries who have, for years, taken advantage of us. Our Stock Market is consistently hitting Record Highs, and our Country has never been more respected than it is right now. A big part of this is the Economic Security created by Tariffs, and the Deals that we have negotiated because of them. Thank you for your attention to this matter!”

That was a message he wanted to reach the Supreme Court. We are just casual bystanders who got to bear witness to it.

He knows their loyalty matters more to his future than our votes do. And while the Court has tossed out a few tiny rulings to make it look “neutral,” we all know what it is: a MAGA court.

So we’ll wait. And we’ll hope they remember their oath of office.

But regardless of what happens tomorrow, the message tonight is simple: take a breath. Let yourself feel hopeful again. Because progress never moves in a straight line. It dips low, then soars high. We win some, we lose some, but each time we rise a little higher.

We’ve seen it before.

In 1932, when Americans stood in breadlines and still believed their vote could build a better world, they chose hope, and rebuilt the country from the ashes of the Great Depression.

In 1920, when women had spent seventy years marching, organizing, being jailed, and told to go home, they finally won the right to vote. Change came slow, but it came.

In the 1960s, people were beaten on bridges and hosed in the streets, but they refused to give up until the Civil Rights Act was signed. They knew progress isn’t granted. It’s fought for.

When corruption reached the Oval Office in 1974, Americans refused to look away. The truth prevailed, and a president resigned.

And when the Berlin Wall came down in 1989, the world was reminded that even the strongest walls, the ones that seem permanent, can crumble overnight. I’ve stood on the ground where that wall once divided a city, where families were torn apart for decades, and it was impossible not to feel the weight of what happens when fear wins. But standing there, seeing people laughing and walking freely where barbed wire once stood, I also felt the power of what it means when freedom returns.

History moves like that. A jagged climb. A thousand steps forward, a few painful ones back. But always, always, toward something better.

Each time, it was ordinary people who shifted the tide, not politicians, not courts, not billionaires. None of them knew if they’d win. They just knew they had to try.

That’s who we are tonight. Ordinary people, standing in the middle of history again.

The people behind Trump, the ones pushing Project 2025, the ones who want to cement their power, are probably panicking right now. They know the clock is running out. One year left to get as much destruction done as they can. Which means they’ll go all in.

And that’s where we come in.

Hope isn’t blind optimism. It’s not pretending everything’s fine. It’s standing up even when your knees shake. Our job over the next 365 days is to remind them, every single day, that corruption isn’t normal. That democracy isn’t negotiable. That free and fair elections are not theirs to steal.

Because if history teaches us anything, it’s that the people always win, eventually. It might take time, but the arc always bends back toward freedom, truth, and light.

So tonight, let’s take a moment to celebrate.

Celebrate the small wins. Celebrate feeling a little lighter. Celebrate the fact that we’re still here, still fighting, still believing that this country is worth saving.

Let yourself feel the weight lift for just a moment.

We’ve been here before, and every single time, we’ve risen higher.

I’ll see you tomorrow,
Heather