When I decided to run, more than a year ago now, I knew I was stepping into a new and unknown arena.
An openly socialist activist, a transgender woman, a working class suburbanite who struggles to make ends meet. I was a shy, introverted kid fighting an uphill battle the entire time, and my biggest opponent was myself.
I suspended my campaign in April. Running out of money, Covid-19, the stress of the campaign and the uncertainty of my own employment in the future, added on to existing and developing health issues, and I had to end it. I don’t regret my decision, even if it would’ve definitely gone the other way if I’d stayed in. I can’t give 110% as a representative if I don’t take care of myself, and I wouldn’t expect any other candidate or elected official to, either.
We lost this election, but got more support than I ever could’ve expected. 41% of voters *after* ending the campaign.
The fight isn’t over. Not for me, not for District 28, and not for Kentucky. We have so much more work to do. So many struggling families. So many hurting. So many dead for no good reason. And so many who just don’t care.
We have to keep going. We live in an era of unchecked police brutality, of global pandemics with no end in sight and over half a million dead. An era of unimaginable wealth being funneled into a half-dozen pockets at an alarming rate, while their workers barely scrape by. An era where millions still don’t have access to clean water, healthcare, food, or even a roof over their heads. An era where sickness is criminalized and medication is illegal. An era where “shoot them in the leg” is proposed as a reasonable alternative to murdering protestors. An era where Breonna Taylor’s killers still walk free, while peaceful protestors are incarcerated, injured, or dead.
This isn’t where we get to rest. This is a pit stop where we lick our wounds and get back out there. There is work yet to be done, and miles to go before we sleep.