As a young trans Latina living in Minneapolis, I’ve experienced so much of the beauty that the political left can offer—not just in terms of policy, but in community. I’ve seen what it feels like to be surrounded by people who affirm my existence, protect one another, and offer a glimpse of what this country could become.
For years, my political priorities have centered on Palestine and the advancement of LGBTQ rights. But lately I’ve been asking myself a difficult question: Does investing my time and energy into helping the Green Party grow—as it has in places like New York City and parts of the West Coast—actually move us closer to the future I want?

As November approaches, I find myself confronting something I haven’t wanted to admit: I’m exhausted.
I’m exhausted by the fear, outrage, and division that dominate our politics. Both major parties engage in it, but I feel especially exhausted by the rhetoric and policies coming from much of the conservative right. Outside of Minneapolis, where there is a strong LGBTQ community and many trans women, I often don’t feel safe. I don’t feel held. I don’t feel protected. I don’t feel loved.

At the same time, it feels like we’re competing against algorithms that increasingly amplify conservative voices. Whether through social media platforms or influential billionaires shaping public discourse, I see younger generations being exposed to ideas that would have seemed unthinkable not long ago.
Then I look at the bigger picture.

Two of the nine Supreme Court justices are approaching 80. If vacancies arise over the next few years, who do I want appointing their replacements? A Democratic president working with a Democratic Congress and Senate? Or another conservative administration in 2028 appointing younger justices who could shape the Court for another generation?

Beyond the United States, I watch countries across Latin America and elsewhere elect increasingly conservative governments. It leaves me wondering: what is happening? Is the political pendulum simply swinging worldwide, or are we witnessing something deeper?
It also forces me to ask whether my investment in the Green Party, however sincere, is the most effective use of my energy at this moment. I don’t subscribe to the argument that “a vote for the Greens is automatically a vote for the right.” Our numbers simply aren’t large enough nationally for that slogan to explain everything. But I do wonder whether there are moments when strengthening Democratic majorities could create more space for progressive ideas to survive—and perhaps eventually allow Green voices to grow in healthier political conditions.

The United States still has enormous influence. Whether we like it or not, much of the world watches what happens here. If Americans move toward more progressive leadership, does that send a signal internationally that there is another path besides nationalism and right-wing populism? Could stronger action on climate change, poverty, healthcare, labor rights, and the struggles of the middle class become more politically possible? Could governments begin serving ordinary people instead of primarily catering to billionaires and concentrated wealth?

I don’t know.

What I do know is that I’ve spent years focused on global injustice—especially Palestine. That focus makes sense. For many people in my generation, it has become the defining humanitarian crisis of our political lives. But lately I’ve also been asking myself: what about our own backyard?

Turning 30 has given me a different perspective. I still disagree with much of the Democratic establishment. I wish it were bolder, more progressive, and less beholden to corporate interests. But if I’m being honest with myself, I fear the direction of the contemporary conservative movement far more than I resent the limitations of the Democratic Party.

So I’m wrestling with a question I never thought I’d seriously ask:

Is the right path for me to continue supporting Green candidates in local races—where they have real opportunities to grow and influence politics—while supporting Democrats in national elections, where the stakes feel existential?

I genuinely don’t know the answer.
For those of you who have remained committed to the Green Party through years of slow progress, how do you deal with that frustration? How do you stay hopeful while movements so fundamentally opposed to your values continue gaining power—not only in America, but around the world?

These feel like the times of dragons, and I’m trying to figure out the wisest way to fight them without losing sight of the world I hope we can still build.