As time goes on, I genuinely want to see you succeed, not only in turning this county blue, but eventually the entire state. I hope I can offer some insight into how that can happen. Yes, in a free and fair election you are projected to win many races, but the goal isn’t just winning during this moment in the Trump era. The goal is maintaining victory and building durable support for the long term. 

We are living in a time where far-right movements and fascist ideologies are actively weaponizing every available avenue to suppress marginalized communities and silence dissenting voices. Their strategies are not random; they are calculated, systemic, and deeply embedded in cultural, economic, and religious institutions. 

The killing of Renee Good has become a catalyst. It has exposed fractures in local institutions, failures of oversight, and the deep harm inflicted on marginalized communities. But it has also revealed something else: a growing willingness among everyday people to confront these injustices directly and publicly. 

Fascism does not begin with marching boots or flags waving over conquered cities. It begins in the quiet places  in the moment a population starts to believe that their identity comes from the state rather than from one another. When people allow the nation to define who they are, when they surrender their sense of self to a political structure, the door to authoritarianism opens. Fascism thrives on this surrender. It needs people to forget that identity is something lived, not assigned. 

In early January 2026, as headlines across the country shifted toward escalating U.S. military involvement in Venezuela, a small but determined crowd gathered at the intersection of Kimberly Road and Welcome Way in Davenport, Iowa. Their message was simple, urgent, and unmistakable: No war in Venezuela. No intervention. No escalation. 

In late December 2025, as winter tightened its grip on the Midwest, roughly two dozen protesters gathered outside the CBS affiliate in Rock Island, Illinois. The air was sharp; the wind biting, and temperatures hovered near freezing, yet people still came bundled in coats, scarves, and determination. This demonstration was one node in a much larger, nationwide protest aimed at CBS after the network chose not to air a “60 Minutes” segment featuring interviews with migrants detained in El Salvador’s notorious high‑security prison, CECOT. 

Within days, the city deployed police to clear the homeless encampments surrounding the project site. Officers confiscated tents, clothing, blankets, and personal belongings with the few possessions people had left. Several unhoused residents reported to Nefesh that they lost essential documents during the sweep: IDs, birth certificates, Social Security cards, medical paperwork. These are not small losses. Without identification, people cannot apply for jobs, access services, or even enter shelters. The city did not simply remove property; it removed the tools people need to survive. 

The political landscape of the United States is shifting, but not in the way many hoped. Even as far‑right movements lose cultural ground and public approval, the left is not rising to meet the moment. Instead, it is struggling  not because its values are wrong, but because its internal capacity for collective action has weakened. The truth is uncomfortable: the left today is not failing because its ideals lack merit, but because its movements lack the resilience, discipline, and moral courage that once defined them. 

Every time new documents drop, we’re told to calm down, to accept half‑truths, to pretend the smoke doesn’t mean fire. It’s the same tiring performance: “Nothing to see here,” while the public is expected to stand in the downpour and pretend it’s sunshine. 

This critique is not about assigning blame to volunteers or local partners. It is about recognizing that national organizations cannot continue to drain energy from local movements without offering real direction, real strategy, or real support

Many of these organizers are doing real, tangible work on the ground, and I believe they deserve far better than what they are currently given. Their ideas, strategies, and long‑term visions should be heard, taken seriously, and engaged with not brushing aside, patronized, or treated as naïve. Too often, the people with the clearest understanding of material struggle are the ones whose voices are minimized in favor of those who speak the “right” academic language or who fit neatly into the organization’s preferred social norms. 

Antisemitism and Islamophobia have surged dramatically in recent years, often rising in parallel and sometimes even emerging from the same individuals or ideological networks. Scholars at Harvard note that both forms of hate have intensified since the escalation of violence in Israel–Palestine, with the Anti-Defamation League reporting a 337% increase in antisemitic incidents and CAIR documenting a 178% rise in Islamophobic complaints in the months following October 7. These spikes reveal how political crises can inflame pre-existing prejudices and create new opportunities for hate to spread. 

Saint Nicholas and Martin Luther King Jr., separated by centuries and cultures, share a common legacy: resistance against injustice, courage in the face of empire, and a vision of a world where dignity is not reserved for the powerful but extended to all. To reclaim Saint Nick is to reclaim the truth that resistance is an act of love. He is not merely a holiday figure but a timeless reminder that justice, generosity, and defiance belong at the heart of every movement. 

Funding resistance requires creativity, discipline, and sometimes uncomfortable compromises. By diversifying income streams—through trades, art, legal entities, events, and cooperative models—we can build sustainable movements that thrive despite systemic barriers.

Pueblo, Colorado was once a city defined by solidarity. Its steel mills and union halls gave birth to a working‑class culture that stood shoulder to shoulder against exploitation. Italians, Irish, and Jewish immigrants joined Indigenous families and Mexican laborers to build a community where diversity was not just tolerated but woven into the fabric of daily life. Pueblo was a place where the dignity of work was honored, where cultural traditions thrived side by side, and where collective bargaining gave ordinary people a measure of power in shaping their destiny. 

The United States is moving at a dangerous pace toward authoritarianism, and the divisions within the political left, coupled with widespread apathy, leave little chance of mounting an effective resistance. The warning signs are everywhere: voting rights are being restricted, judicial independence is under siege, and marginalized communities are being targeted simultaneously by coordinated policies designed to weaken solidarity and exhaust opposition. 

The reality across the Quad Cities is clear: corruption and neglect have eroded trust in local leadership. Every city council member and mayor has failed to fight for the people, instead prioritizing corporate interests and exclusionary policies.

What is needed now is a clean sweep of local politicians—a full accountability process that removes those who have perpetuated inequality and corruption. In their place, we must elect leaders who genuinely care about their communities, who will nurture local economic development, stand with workers, and ensure that resources and opportunities are shared equitably.

Only through bold change and collective action can the Quad Cities become a region where justice, inclusion, and prosperity are realities for all residents.

We need to talk about Jakarta Jackson. What happened on January 5, 2025, in Rock Island cannot simply be brushed aside, ignored, or placed behind us. The video released by the Rock Island Police Department shows Officer Brett Taylor pursuing Jackson, then violently smashing open the window of a moving car. Some argue this was justified that the car was in motion; that Taylor had a duty to apprehend a suspect. But this framing oversimplifies a deeply complex situation. 

Abortion and reproductive rights are about more than medicine they are about freedom, equality, and dignity. When states restrict abortion, they are not protecting life; they are controlling it. They are denying women, trans men, and others the right to make decisions about their own bodies