Resistance: the refusal to accept or comply.

For the past 20 months, we have seen time and time again the Republican Party put forth an agenda and push for policies that harm people, exclude those different from themselves, and make our society less physically safe and less financially secure for the majority of people.

Where does that leave those of us who want to fight the corruption, the racism, and the injustice of these actions?

We must resist, or else we enable this oppression to continue.

In Georgia, we had many examples of how low conservatives will go to suppress votes and push their extreme agenda.

In each of these cases crowds of people rose up in resistance and stopped bad policy before it could be made law.

But there is more work to be done:

Either we resist or we enable.

We resist so we can expand Medicaid so no one has to go without healthcare. We resist so we can protect the voting rights of minorities. We resist so we can adequately fund public schools to provide a safe and quality education to every Georgia child. We resist so we can develop a world-class and clean energy public transportation system so our children can have a future.

We resist because we refuse to be enablers. All over the United States, in communities large and small, people are resisting, registering voters, and helping new leaders get elected. Do your part.

Donate, Volunteer, and Vote.


Reading this week’s heartbreaking headlines, I am so ashamed at how easy it is for some to dismiss the pain of innocent children, especially when they are strangers to our country.

It’s not the first time our public servants have sanctioned terrible sins against people of color. Many of us aren’t surprised to hear of yet another example of our government’s long history of racist policies and practices. Yet, we continue to be shocked by how our government seems to have a regressive mandate to openly flaunt bigoted and callous policies.

And, I’ll admit, I have trouble finding any common ground with leaders who twist the meanings of sacred texts to justify their immoral acts as Attorney General Sessions did.

It’s hard for me to want to live in community with those of my neighbors who believe that the internment of children is justified because their parents are “criminals.”

And as we watch what is happening in Texas, I realize with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that we are not far from similar policies here in Georgia. How many immigrant families here already are terrified of an ICE raid destroying the productive and peaceful lives they are trying to build? If it took weeks for Trump to agree to stop ripping families apart, what new torture could families here face?

I believe in loving my enemy as myself, and teaching forgiveness instead of hate.

And no matter who you are or whether you can vote, I believe that everyone has basic human rights that our government should never be empowered to take away from you.

Some of our nation’s greatest moral breakthroughs have happened when we choose love. Love has combined our strengths and lessened our weaknesses. Love has given us hope for a better future.

Perhaps our leaders could “make America great” if they truly learned to love our neighbors as ourselves.

It’s in the 50’s outside in Embry Hills and I’m in the produce section of the grocery store, picking up ingredients for Thanksgiving. When I see the cucumbers, I’m brought back to a scorching day in June on a south Georgia farm that had barbed wires and security gates.

Each year, my church takes a small busload of youth to this community, where they work alongside a program that provides mobile healthcare to immigrant farm workers. I’ve gone with my church twice on these journeys, and it has opened my eyes to the so-called “invisible” labor behind the sweet potatoes, cranberries, and green beans at our Thanksgiving table.

Below are a few journal entries I wrote during one of these trips.

Monday: South Georgia in the summer is hot. Ninety-five degrees with the sun blazing down, unobscured by a single cloud. Today, we visited a cucumber farm. No amount of reading or my own imagination prepared me for what I saw. It hurt my heart. A harvesting apparatus stretched across the field perpendicular to the rows of cucumber plants. Surrounding the apparatus, were about 20 men. Even in the extreme heat, their bodies were covered from head to foot in cloth to protect them from the sun, bugs, pesticides, and the prickly plants. One man, lacking a hat, had his head wrapped in a t-shirt. Another man’s face was completely covered except for his eyes. They had to pick as fast as the harvester moved, and it moved at a pretty good clip. We got to try it a bit ourselves. The plants scratched our hands. The buckets were heavy, and bending over hurt our backs. These men work from 6:30 in the morning until 8 at night, day after day. Their only “break” is when the harvester moves from row to row. Some go for months without a day off.

Tuesday: The evening clinic is held at the farm workers’ living quarters, toward the back of a 150-care field. Even though it was late, the sun still held its sizzling power. The four barracks were very simply constructed – they reminded me of a garden shed. The walls had no insulation and no air conditioning. Yet, they housed about 300 male workers. Each barrack is divided into six sections, containing enough bunk beds for roughly a dozen men, a picnic table, a counter top with cook stove and sink, an open pantry shelf for food, a refrigerator, and a few lockers — all sitting atop a hard, concrete floor. The only movement of air I felt was through the windows. The shower and bathroom facilities were located at the end. Outside sat one washing machine. The front yard was full of dusty, fine sand that was easily disturbed, made airborne, and clung to your skin and the inside of your nostrils. The “yard” was enclosed by barbed wire, which the workers used as a clothesline. A grey bus rolled in at 7:30 p.m. — the men had been in the fields since 5 a.m. When we left at 11:30 p.m., another bus rolled in — workers were still coming back “home.”.

Wednesday: Today, a young man brought his reluctant friend to see a doctor. He had been bitten by something in the field that day and his leg, from the knee down, was extremely swollen. He needed to be taken to the hospital, but the “crew leader,” who, evidently, is a profit-making middle-man, didn’t want him to go. A fight ensued, the man was put in a car, driven to the hospital, admitted, and will purportedly be in the hospital an entire week on IV antibiotics to fight a very bad infection. I was told that without medical care, this man could have died.

According to the National Agricultural Workers Survey, one in five farm workers experiences “increased depressive symptoms.” They miss their families, they face mistreatment, and discrimination, but they also experience fear that they won’t be able to meet the extraordinary challenge of the labor.

Many of us still believe that America stands as a place where, if you are willing to work hard, you can start over or start a new life. These workers, many of whom are legal and some of whom are undocumented, work harder hours than anyone I know to produce the food my family eats. I owe them more than my gratitude. I owe them justice.

As your Georgia state senator, I will work to create laws and policies that end this “invisible” labor and the human exploitation it can cause. And until then, every time I see a cucumber, I will think of heat, dust, sweat, toil, and a promise, one day, of a better life.


Last week, I suffered a medical emergency — my retina began peeling away from the back of my eye. Fortunately, my healthcare worked for me, and I am on the road to recovery. But I am well aware that this would not have been the outcome for millions of Americans in the same situation. Too many times, I hear stories of people ignoring symptoms because they are scared the care they need will cost too much, even when they have health insurance. If I had ignored my symptoms, I would have eventually become blind in that eye. And we all know that delayed medical care can have even more devastating outcomes.

As your State Senator, I will make all legislative decisions based on the idea that a strong government is necessary to counterbalance special interests, ensuring that an economy based on maximizing profits does not trample fundamental human needs.

Our healthcare industry, through maximization of profits that include multi-million dollar CEO bonuses, is trampling fundamental human rights, and it’s time we say enough is enough.

We need to stop protecting special interests and implement a solution that works for everyone, not just a lucky few. I believe a strong government is the best and most efficient way to get this done. Government is not the enemy. Government is you, me, and our neighbors.

Please speak up and fight for equal access to healthcare for every American, even if your healthcare is working for you. And help me, today, get to Georgia’s State Senate by making a contribution to my campaign. You won’t be disappointed.