On Thursday, Jan. 2, with the Iowa caucuses just weeks away, former HUD Secretary Julián Castro announced that he would no longer be pursuing his bid for the presidency. I was heartbroken. For many of us Latinx folks, seeing Julián, the son of Mexican immigrants, being a righteous voice for not only our rights but the rights of those who often go voiceless in this country felt like a small gasp of air in a time when we are all struggling to breathe.
Four days later, he endorsed Sen. Elizabeth Warren and immediately hit the road to help her on the trail. I first met Sen. Warren at the She the People conference in Texas last spring. I had long admired her as a senator, never forgetting that she was the reason for the now-ubiquitous use of the phrase “Nevertheless, she persisted.” For years now, I’ve watched her take on the big banks, fight for healthcare reform, bring doughnuts to the House of Representatives when they were filibustering for gun violence prevention, and be the most visible politician talking about student debt relief. When she and I spoke, she looked me in the eyes. She touched my shoulder. She heard me and made me feel seen and hopeful in a way that no other politician ever has.
I’m 29 years old, solidly a millennial. 2019 was the first year that I’ve consistently had health insurance since I was a child. Last summer, I graduated with a master’s degree in elections and campaign management—a degree that I chose to get as a reaction to election night 2016. I have a stable job, live with a tight budget, don’t own a car, and my entire wardrobe is either discounted fast fashion or hand-me-downs from friends. It wasn’t until April of last year that I owned any piece of furniture that was bigger than a loveseat.
Due to student loan debt from putting myself through graduate school (while working full time, often multiple jobs), and some more recent medical expenses, I continue to live paycheck to paycheck with no savings. When I told Sen. Warren all of this, I wasn’t met with shock or pity; I was met with the insight of a woman who understood that this was something that plagued millions of people just like me. Good, hardworking folks who either came to America or were lucky enough to be born here, with a shared conviction to work, to be kind, and to try and leave this country a little better than how we found it.
When I read that Secretary Castro and Sen. Warren would be taking the stage together in Brooklyn, I instantly bought a $15 bus ticket from D.C. to New York. At the risk of sounding dramatic, I needed to be in the same space as the two people who I admired so much stood side by side to tell me that their vision of America is possible. I needed to be told that all the madness of the current news cycle could someday end and that if we worked hard and elected the right people, there would be hope for us as a country again.
The pair was set to take the stage together at the Kings Theatre in Brooklyn, to a full house of 3,000 people, with hundreds more supporters outside hoping for a chance to get in. I was lucky enough to secure a pass that allowed me to arrive at the theater an hour before Castro and Warren were scheduled to speak. Walking through the venue, I watched as thousands of supporters piled in. The event was beautifully staffed by the most kind, eager volunteers I’ve ever seen.
I noticed the diversity of strangers who soon became fast friends as they were seated next to each other, deep in conversation about how much they loved Elizabeth and Julián. Older women, young women, people of color, people with disabilities—there was seemingly no singular race, ethnicity, or gender expression that was not represented in the audience at the Kings Theatre. My eyes were brimming with tears the whole night.
I thought back to the endorsement video Julián had tweeted on Monday morning.
This video of endorsement, of two powerhouses sitting together at Warren’s kitchen table discussing their worries and their hopes, couldn’t help but be inspiring. Twitter users agreed, and the video quickly went viral, garnering millions of views within hours.
It means something to me to see these two candidates sitting at a kitchen table talking about what their campaigns did and continue to do for many of us who still feel unseen in the political process. It means something to me that they are unabashedly progressive, undoubtedly brilliant, and authentically themselves. It means something to me that that authenticity is calculated, not because it is a political farce, but because they are both calculating individuals. To be calculating is to think about the weight of your words, to be calculating is to understand that we do not live alone in our world but that what we do affects those around us, to be calculating means to be measured, to have taken the time to study, research, and think about what the best choice is in every given situation. I was always taught that people who made detailed plans, who took exhaustive precautions, who educated themselves were worthy of my attention and respect.
As both a woman and an immigrant Latina, I see myself deeply and fully in Julián and Elizabeth. As a woman, I’ve learned that my vulnerability is a strength and that my tenacity comes at the price of being seen as a shrew. As a Latina, I’ve learned that to survive I have to fully assimilate, I have to lean into respectability politics to get ahead; that often I must be the stern person in the room just to be heard, but that when I am heard, I must beyond any measure of doubt be fully and completely in the right, I must have all the facts, all the evidence; my arguments must be ironclad or I will be written off as just another angry woman, as just another entitled child, as just another immigrant taking up American space that I am not worthy of, for the sole crime of not having been born here.
I’m mad that these candidacies are being swept to the side. I’m livid that I am being sold this idea that it’s too late, that they were both in everyone's “top three” but that they are just “not electable enough,” “or not trustworthy enough,” “or not inspiring enough.” And I’m mad that every time I hear those arguments, at the forefront of my mind all I can hear is that they aren’t electable because they aren’t a white man, that you can’t trust them because they aren’t a white man, that you can’t see how America as a whole could be inspired by anything other than a white man seeking power.
In a primary season that shaped up to be revolutionary because of its diversity of candidates, to see that the two front-runners are just… white guys hurts me. We can debate back and forth the merits of the experience of Vice President Biden or the fact that Bernie Sanders has mainstreamed democratic socialism in America all day. But frankly, to me, their time is solidly in the past. I believe them to be good men. Men who have contributed deeply to making this country a better place, with the best of intentions, with what they knew and thought to be good for their time. But that’s just the thing: They’ve both already had their time.
On Tuesday night, Julián was met with chants of “Julián! Julián! Julián!” before he even set foot on stage. He opened the rally, with high energy and good spirits.
He almost sang with how proudly he boasted of his endorsement, one that he assured was long thought-of and enthusiastic. Julián, lightly chuckling to himself, told us all that he didn’t have to wonder what Warren would look like as a president because he already knew what a formidable force she is as a senator. He recalled the first lunch that they had together when he was heading HUD, explaining that he expected a pleasant getting-to-know-you chat, but instead, Warren walked in with a list of demands for all of the things she would accomplish that she wanted his help with. It was evident to Julián that what he respects in Warren are the same traits that he possesses, the same traits that called them both to a life of public service.
This joint rally was a natural progression in the relationship between Warren and Castro. During the early stages of the primary, they'd complimented each other, they consistently had pleasant encounters at events they both attended, and they never failed to take the opportunity to chat as friends and respected colleagues. Perhaps more importantly, they were often the first to offer detailed plans on everything from immigration, to health care, to education reform.
Their appearance together and their apparent appreciation for each other has set off running-mate buzz online. Warren acknowledged this by saying that she and Castro were poised to make history together that night … by doing the first joint selfie-line of the presidential primary race. The room burst into an appreciative laugh, followed by excited energy at the prospect of this dream team.
This coalition of progressives is not something to be shrugged off. The teams behind both the Castro and the Warren camps is nothing if not efficient, effective, and united in ideals. But beyond that, the hope that this pairing brings to this election cycle, the spirit that it inspires in me and millions like me, cannot be ignored. We’re a formidable force, we the calculating, the rehearsed, the passionate, the nerds. And we won’t go away in this primary without a fight.