This is a work of nonfiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are not the product of my imagination nor used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is intentional. This article is meant to be as accurate as possible, so if you think it is about someone in particular it probably is. But it’s also meant to be an informative resource, so don’t harp on who exactly it’s about because the central thesis is that it could be anyone. It could be me. It could be you. Unless you do your damnedest to avoid it being you — it will most certainly be.
Introduction
Karl Stomberg did an excellent job of outlining this problem and offering solutions and ideas on how we can better co-govern in a piece from 2023. He takes on the issue from his vantage point, as a member of the community and progressive organizing infrastructure, offering his insight and ideas on how the progressive ecosystem can better support candidates in their quest to be representative leaders for the communities that elected them, and to not “sell out.”
I aim to offer advice to those who wish to join the world of politics (and those already elected to office) but who want to resist the phenomenon of selling out. Like Karl, I posit that selling out is an almost inevitable reality for most elected officials due to the characteristics of the environment candidates are thrust into after winning elections and the type of people who choose to run.
Those close to me know that I often refer to selling out as the norm, and I have often comically — or, perhaps more accurately, cynically — argued that selling out is inevitable and the real goal is to prolong how quickly that inevitable outcome overtakes you. In line with C. Wright Mills’ distinction between personal troubles and social issues, I would argue that selling out is a social issue that stems from the many variables Karl outlined in his piece, in addition to other variables I offer. I do feel, however, that the timeline in which one starts to transform and how accelerated it is or is not is within one’s control. To sell out after being elected for a decade or two, I would argue, is to be expected, and more so a result of the social pressures and variables Karl has outlined.
I believe selling out is contagious, especially in politics. A contagion, “the communication of disease from one person to another by close contact,” and, better still, “the spreading of a harmful idea or practice,” is what we’re dealing with. Transmission of our virus of study, selling out, or Agent-S, occurs through contact with infected environments and hosts. It spreads quickly among cohorts, where it can become endemic, and before you know it, it’s all around you. But in 2026, in this modern age we are all living in, thanks to centuries of epidemiology, we have many ways to ward off the spread of Agent-S. Virulent and innovative as it is, it is no different from any other communicable disease. There are ways, as an elected official intent on staying true to your values and the community that elected you to represent them, for you to improve your immunity and, as the Wu-Tang Clan aptly put it: Protect ya neck.
It is my position that if you can’t even make it through a single term of elected office before forsaking your base, your volunteers, and cutting off the very people and institutions that propelled you to office that is not a social issue but rather a “personal trouble.” In that case, we are likely not even referring to a sellout but a liar; a charlatan who deceived well-meaning community members. As I near the end of my third term in elected office, I have seen a curious phenomenon of so-called progressive candidates winning elections and then selling out in record time. Some turned on their allies within a term. Others, more disappointingly, caved before the legislature broke for their very first summer recess. In each of these cases I would not label these individuals as liars, but rather ill-equipped or caught lacking. That being said, do we say it is embarrassing when someone catches a virus and complains to us of their fatigue and terrible cough? In most cases, no. In most cases, rather, we are likely to offer advice on ways to heal quickly and find oneself on the mend. “Try zinc,” we offer, and “have you tried echinacea tea?” This is what we do in most cases. In some cases, however, when an acquaintance has, let’s just say, chosen to go around town licking doorknobs? Well, in those cases, yes, it is embarrassing and that person has gotten exactly the outcome that is to be expected in such cases of haphazard behavior.
Now, you may be wondering: “Madinah — what is the ‘licking doorknobs’ of being in elected office?” I would offer that merely entering Legislative Hall, or any other political institution, for that matter, without first inoculating yourself and practicing good political hygiene is a silly endeavor rooted in naïveté or egotism. Both can be addressed for those who are willing to be inoculated. As for the anti-vaxxers? Those who feel it is not necessary or question just what it is that lies in that pesky little mRNA sequence? Hide your kids, hide your wife. They will be patient zero and I’d wear a mask around them.
The Epicenter
“If entering the campaign world is like traveling to another country, entering the legislature is like traveling to another planet. To get a sense of why so many elected officials seem to suddenly become neurotic after gaining power, it is important to understand the actual experience of taking that leap…The Legislature is not a place for normal people. It is populated by lawmakers, lobbyists, cranks, activists, bureaucrats and the media. These are the people who spend a disproportionate amount of time in the halls of government day in and day out. Many of them are perfectly fine and lovely people, many are not. More importantly, they tend to each have a very specific set of personalities and priorities that have an undue amount of influence on what happens in government. Through finesse or sheer will, they are the ones in the room.” — Karl Stomberg
Karl’s description of the environment is accurate. I’ll go a step further in painting the picture. When you arrive at the halls of power, bright-eyed and optimistic, you will park your car in a special parking spot reserved just for you. You walk up the stairs, bypassing the security rigamarole others are subjected to with a nod to the Capitol Police, who recognize you as someone who belongs in the building. You turn your attention back to the lobby ahead of you, where dozens, if not hundreds, of new-to-you-but-not-to-the-building smiling faces greet you, all welcoming, congratulating, and “looking forward to collaborating with you.” You smile back and, much like in the wonderful Emerald City of Oz or Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, the doors ahead of you seem to consistently be thrust open before you can lift a finger to open them.
As you glide over the threshold you are repeatedly referred to as “the Honorable.” No matter if it is accurate or not, the title is assigned to all of us. Most of the people you encounter in this new environment will never use your given name, many won’t even dare to use your surname, opting instead to refer to you simply as your title, as if you have somehow been transported back in time and whisked across the Pond to a Bridgerton-esque estate. “Representative,” a well-meaning secretary will utter as you enter the office, a space where only those with special badges and pre-scheduled appointments are allowed to loiter. “Senator,” another may say as a state senator walks past their cubicles, as if we needed a reminder of the hierarchy that exists in the building.
Invitations pour into your email inbox. “Please attend” this luncheon, “do us the honor” of attending this gala. All complimentary, of course. “Do let us know your guest’s name and dietary restrictions.” You arrive at the vestibule, and the red carpet is unfurled, as staff and volunteers rush to make you comfortable and at ease. No need for pesky introductions. The sign-in process is bypassed as you are shown to your table. Guests rise as you enter the room. Lines form as attendees jockey for photographs and one-on-one conversations with you.
It is dangerous to become accustomed to this special treatment.
I don’t illustrate the picture to besmirch the many nonprofits that do amazing work in the community, nor do I list them out of ingratitude, annoyance, or any other space of negativity. On the contrary; I quite enjoy every moment. In fact, it is something I noticed very early on in my tenure as an elected official. It is a wonderful feeling to be acknowledged and to be invited and to be treated — delightful even. To hear one’s name called as a distinguished guest and to rise to wave to the crowd as hundreds applaud and beam in disbelief that they are there and you are there. To be able to bring something of value to a function, to ask a question that adds to an important discussion, to solve a problem for someone who is struggling with a challenge: these are perhaps some of the most enjoyable and rewarding experiences a human being is capable of experiencing, which is precisely why the environment of politics is so dangerous. Much like the feeling you get when licking an ice cream cone from Woodside Creamery on the first day of spring, it’s delicious. It’s a rush of dopamine. If you’re not cognizant of it, you won’t even realize why it feels so good or the fact that it can be addicting.
Entering Legislative Hall should be approached like entering a nursing home, daycare, or airport in the weeks leading up to and after Thanksgiving: with extreme caution and preparation. If you don’t take certain precautions, you’re bound to catch a bug.
This is not to say that you should let your guard down when you leave the halls of power. The virus is lurking in other infected environments too; it is passed from host to host at after-hours fundraisers and at coffee dates with lobbyists or “advocates.” Agent-S is easily communicated from host to host everywhere from casual meetings to elite social circles, in the echo chambers we fashion, consciously and unconsciously, for safety and relaxed conversations where we can finally exhale and “be ourselves.”
Immunity
“We often enter government the same way we enter the world: alone, afraid, and very confused.” — Karl Stomberg
What can be done to protect yourself from catching Agent-S?
I will not pretend to be a scientist, but we all have a basic understanding of immune system health. Some people never seem to get sick despite being around germs all of the time; others seem to constantly be on the mend. When I think of people who are just naturally vigorous and resilient, the late great John Kowalko, Jr. comes to mind as the perfect example of someone who was able to withstand the toxic environment of elected office for 16 years without falling victim to Agent-S. Others are not so lucky.
Many underlying factors complicate one’s resting immunity (especially pernicious pre-existing conditions), including having low self-esteem or struggling with financial security. Craving external validation, relying on others to fill your cup, suffering from loneliness and lack of community, and having a precarious financial situation all put you at a disadvantage when it comes to fighting off Agent-S.
If you suffer from any of these pre-existing conditions you will need to work much harder to stay healthy in the environment of politics. My sincere advice would be to address issues of ego and self-esteem seriously and intentionally through therapy and accountability partnership. Dealing with financial issues is trickier. As a progressive movement, we are focused on ensuring everyone in our society has the resources they need to thrive. It is for that reason that we often recruit candidates from working-class backgrounds, but, without community support, we set candidates adrift in choppy waters. As a candidate or elected official who aims to help your community, the last thing you want is to be looking at your tax-payer funded salary as “yours” or something you must hold onto. This means if you are from a working class background you will need to work even harder to avoid ending up as a sellout. You might need to find a third job. I’m not saying it’s fair, but it may be necessary as a form of, what they call in the healthcare industry, “preventative care.”
“Madinah,” you may ask, “I have a healthy attachment style, I’m in a supportive household, and have all my material needs met. How can I boost my immune system?”
Let’s start with diet, exercise, and stress.
As an elected official you will be required to consume lots of political media. You likely are already consuming it because you are a sicko, which is why you are running in the first place. Be careful of changing your diet too much after winning your election. You may need to cut out some junk you were consuming before, for example: the comments on Facebook posts. You will likely have colleagues invite you “out” to consume terrible online content: “Have you seen what they said on First State Update?”
Here’s another exercise to practice. Ask yourself: Did you consume this media before you were elected? If you did, did you put any weight in what was said there? A strange phenomenon I’ve seen is people starting to put credence in a media source that they previously discounted and changing their behaviors to be seen in a favorable light on said media source. Fast food is fast food. It doesn’t become healthy because everyone at your job is hitting the drive-thru on the way home.
Exercise is key to being healthy. Here’s a mental exercise for you in the fight against selling out: when you see someone fall victim to the virus, don’t look at them like you’re immune. Look at them as a cautionary tale and then look to yourself for similar behaviors: symptoms. If you take this exercise seriously you will find similarities. The next step of this exercise is to actively work to arrest those behaviors. Repeat.
Finally, avoid unnecessary stress. Take criticism from the community that elected you personally, but don’t take criticism from colleagues personally, and don’t take flattery or compliments from anyone to heart. Do not go into the comment sections on your Facebook posts unless you are seriously looking to respond and clarify and offer resources. Any other intention when going into the comments will result in you becoming neurotic and often leads to poor political decisions. In this age of screenshots and screen recordings, it’s just silly business.
I’ve done it. In 2019 or 2020, my original campaign manager changed my password for my Twitter account so I couldn’t post without the team weighing in first. In my first re-election campaign, I turned my Facebook account over to my new campaign manager, who would filter the hate and silliness and only share genuine engagements with me to help me preserve my health. To this day, she will notice when a frequent flyer hater pops up, and I barely recognize the names because of her generous filtering. You may need to institute similar processes to keep from becoming deranged or posting completely ridiculous things in the heat of the moment.
Only vent when absolutely necessary and only to people you trust absolutely; do not spend excessive time harping on how something didn’t go well or as well as expected. Approach these conversations with a solutions-oriented mindset. If you must process them emotionally, put a limit on how long you will stay in that space. Ego loves to have us live in the past, rehashing losses and betrayals and “can you believe her?!”s. That is a waste of your precious energy and it is absolutely exhausting to exist in that space. If you’re not careful, you’ll expend so much energy in that space that your defenses will be down when Agent-S tries to sneak in.
Innoculation
Just as schools require certain vaccinations and annual physicals before enrolling a child, you need to inoculate yourself before running for office. Here’s some advice I received from an elected official before I ever even considered running for office: “Know what you are willing to lose an election over.” Have your red lines and set them before you enter the environment.
A state representative once told me the story of a woman who unexpectedly lost her re-election campaign and had a mental breakdown — my words, not his. He seemed a bit confused by what had happened to her. Now, as an elected official who has experienced the red carpet treatment, I understand her predicament well. The lesson I took from that story was: Don’t allow politics to become your identity. Don’t allow the dopamine rush that floods your brain when you are recognized as an elected official or when you solve a problem for a constituent to become the loudest sources of dopamine in your life. You need to institute regular hits of dopamine in your life from different, healthier, long-lasting sets of sources.
Both of these pieces of advice are easier said than done. My advice? Write to yourself. Actually put pen to paper and write down what your non-negotiables are, what you value, what you like and don’t like about yourself, what you want to work on outside of politics. Write your future self a letter. It may seem cliché, but you need to hold yourself accountable. Write down your assumptions about the place you are about to enter. Who seems untrustworthy? Why? Who seems to have the wrong motives? Why? Who seems to prioritize the wrong “stakeholders” and who do you think they should consult instead? Why? Explore these ideas on your own and with those you trust and whose values you share before you are thrown into the fire. And if you don’t know enough about the environment in advance, that’s okay.
Practice this process in real time. In every meeting and interaction you should be wondering, “what are this person’s motives,” and exploring how they coalesce or collide with yours. And yours should be those of the community. Return to these assumptions and early conclusions regularly. While it may be easy to explain away betraying those around you, betraying yourself is, and should be, harder to do. Root yourself in your community on paper and date it.
As for politics becoming your identity or your sole mode of financing your lifestyle, find other ways to bring value and purpose to your life and be very intentional about feeding those habits or activities. I have seen the change that takes over an elected official when politics becomes their world, it is painful to witness and, much like a train wreck, rarely ends well. I took up stand-up comedy and writing, others have taken up spiritual practice or the meaningful work of caregiving. What you do may change, but what must remain constant is that politics is not your sole source of purpose. This advice I share with my friends who are not in elected office as well. Logging on to BlueSky (blech! It sucks so much. It’s nothing like Twitter…) or watching MSNBC or even attending or organizing protests and rallies cannot be your only sense of purpose. It’s not healthy and it’s not sustainable.
Another important way to protect yourself is to surround yourself with like-minded people who are practicing similar exercises as you and inoculating themselves too. This is how you can start to benefit from herd immunity.
Practicing Good Political Hygiene
So you’ve taken an inventory of your immune system’s health, you’re exercising and avoiding stress, you’ve inoculated yourself: Now what? This is the fun part. Maintenance. Just like how we periodically purify ourselves in an attempt to decontaminate our bodies, you must routinely slug off the sickly sweet-smelling muck of Agent-S. Muslims perform a ritual wash before performing the five daily prayers and the first step of that wash, wudhu, is setting one’s intention. Routinely, monthly, weekly, perhaps even daily, renew your intention at the macro- and micro-levels.
Questions like why are you in elected office at the macro-level, but also in day-to-day happenings: “Why am I meeting this person for lunch?” How does it tie back to your intentions for your district or constituencies? Is it in conflict? Why or why not?
From time to time you may need to decontaminate your social circles, your calendar, etc. This is not to say that the people you were meeting are evil or the events you were attending were all sellouts; they could just be distractions from your larger goal and you have a finite amount of energy to exert in the service of your district. Choose activities and engagements wisely. Other purifying behaviors include revisiting your earliest notes to yourself, your journal entries and letters you wrote yourself, and dusting off those early motivations and finding ways to bring life back to the optimism and tenacity that fueled you.
It is easy to get into a routine where the only feedback you receive is positive. I need you to see that for what it is: disgusting. You are a public servant living through the disintegration of representative democracy, after all; you need to be exposed to some sort of diversity of opinion and perspective. That being said, as much as you may try to avoid the constant flattery and positive feedback, if you’re doing a good job it will be extremely difficult. Try to attend some events incognito so you can really hear how people feel and the issues they are dealing with. Survey friends and family to supplement your observations.
This may make me seem a bit masochistic, but I believe being yelled at by a constituent from time to time can be a sort of ethical recalibration. Picture this: The newly crowned King Humperdinck addresses the Kingdom of Florin. As he presents his beautiful, innocent new bride Buttercup an old hag suddenly emerges from the crowd of bowing subjects yelling in Queen Buttercup’s face: “Bow to the Queen of Slime! The Queen of Filth! The Queen of Putrescense! Boo! Boo! Rubbish, filth, slime, muck, boo!” Buttercup wakes in a sweat and realizes she can’t marry Humperdinck, her true love Westley/The Dread Pirate Roberts is out there. She rushes to call off the wedding. What would have happened if Princess Buttercup hadn’t had that disturbing nightmare? Sometimes you need to be yelled at by a well-intentioned stranger.
Yes, often there’s nothing you could’ve done differently, but it is still renewing and healing to sit in that discomfort and process it. What can you do? What underlying issues of social angst or economic depression are animating this frustration? What have you done about those issues, if anything? If the underlying issue behind the criticism or complaint is racism or xenophobia, how can you redouble your efforts to address those issues? Even if the person yelling at you is “wrong,” and not some old sage like in the Princess Bride, you’re not perfect. Why should you ever be led to believe that you are?
As we watched Americans become “Trumpers” and refer to themselves as “MAGA,” and as I watch people all over the world fall in love with Zohran Mamdani and his wife Rama, I’m reminded of an old quote from President Clinton: “You know the difference in Democrats and Republicans…In every presidential election, Democrats want to fall in love. Republicans just fall in line.”
What was once conventional political wisdom is now, debatably so. Democrats tend to vote party line and Republicans have found charismatic leaders with cults of personality. No matter, I’ll say that people, regardless of party affiliation, do love to find a leader they can believe in. As much as I would encourage you to aspire to be that leader, by being steadfast, earnest, hard-working, and visionary, I would caution against allowing yourself to believe in you while at the same time being wary of letting yourself off the hook. It is a difficult tightrope walk. Some may see it as a performative, almost reflexive, matter of etiquette to deflect compliments, but I believe it to be an imperative practice in defending yourself from the scourge that is the virus of selling out. It is an exhausting exercise but it must be repeated, as we say in the gym, to failure.
Personal Protective Equipment
At some point in 2023, billboards began to pop up outside of Philadelphia and other major cities across the country warning of “drug-resistant gonorrhea” and urging passersby to get STD testing. If gonorrhea is running rampant in Philadelphia, then Agent-S is running rampant in the halls of power, across the country and across the world. There are antibiotic-resistant strains of all types of political ideologies raging in almost every elected body in Delaware (no pun intended). I don’t want to get too vulgar here, but let’s just say: use protection. If a potential sexual partner informs you they have an STD, would you still throw caution to the wind? So why interact with a political actor who you know is radioactive without some protection?
In the modern dating world, women often share their locations with trusted friends before a date with a new potential partner. As bleak as it is, this practice has become commonplace. I would suggest instituting a similar pattern of behavior when meeting with people or interest groups you worry may influence your thinking. I once met with a well-known and influential business leader with whom I thought I could potentially build a collaborative relationship. Before meeting for lunch, I informed a trusted and valued friend.
She wasn’t thrilled. In fact, she initially replied by saying: “I do not know how to process this information.” I explained my reasoning briefly, and she said, “I think you always have the conversation…other people I’d be worried about being influenced into seeing the world his way. Lol. Thankfully, you’re steadfast enough😂.” Ah, a little bit of reverse psychology! Or maybe just positive reinforcement?
Regardless, my mindset going into the meeting was to prove my friend correct — to be the steadfast person she believed me to be, while also being open-minded and welcoming of possible meaningful collaboration. Informing someone who can hold you accountable is like wearing a mask or gloves. You never want to enter an environment where you are likely to have your values challenged without first preparing to defend against those microscopic attacks. The conversation I had with the businessman was fruitful. I left with new ideas on ways I could enact positive quality-of-life policies at the state level, and we each left with a better understanding of our shared values and the beginnings of a path for future collaboration.
Much like a mask is meant to filter the air you inhale, and prevent you from spewing germs all over those around you, you need to filter your interactions with many of the people you will come into contact with at the epicenter. You must protect yourself from toxic influences. No matter how hard you try, you will eventually have to meet with lobbyists. And as unpopular as it may be to say: meetings with lobbyists can be some of the most informative and productive uses of your time as a legislator. Lobbyists often have years and years of institutional knowledge, and access to research and the resources to communicate difficult concepts succinctly. Some lobbyists take on clients pro bono, spending their very, very valuable time to advocate for everything from reforming mental health practices to banning flavored tobacco products. They often have wonderful ideas and insight. They often have the latest gossip. (Don’t sleep on gossip. In the world of politics it is invaluable and has a real impact, fortunately or unfortunately, on how people operate around you.)
Despite all of this, you should still be careful when operating around them. Remember, nine times out of ten, someone is paying them to make the arguments they are making and not necessarily to give you the full picture.
Boosters
“Compromise is an unavoidable part of politics, but when it happens behind closed doors it looks a lot like selling out. When these deals and compromises are made without the input and consent of the governed, it perpetuates a cycle that ends with people not even wanting to participate in government.” — Karl Stomberg
When you become a member of the Delaware General Assembly you suddenly come into having a staff of policy and communication professionals. They are hard-working, driven, talented and the backbone of the building. As you grow in the role and expand your network, you will meet other new professionals who bring valuable perspective and expertise to deliberations. But you also had a team before you were elected. Those neighbors, friends, family, perhaps even strangers who were inspired by your campaign’s vision and platform (or who just vehemently hated your opponent) all came together to advise and support you, and they got you over the finish line with their tireless efforts. Think of your team of supporters as your boosters; set regular and periodic check-ins with them. Prioritize these check-ins and foster a space of mutual accountability and respect.
The deference elected officials are given, often without asking for it, is toxic. Don’t allow close friends and confidantes to call you by your title, and don’t allow them to treat you like you have one when it comes to being easy on you. They should always treat you like someone who can actually “do” something about the problems they see around them. And you should treat them, and members of the progressive ecosystem, as members of your team: not only deserving of being included in your inner circle, but committed volunteers who bring valuable insight to your decision-making process. Be wary of when people who used to critique you stop doing so, and interrogate why. Have they given up on it? Or have they stopped being critical because they think you can do no wrong? Both are scary realities to have set in and both must be addressed.
In the first case, you need to intentionally and genuinely work to repair that trust and may need to set norms to ensure they feel empowered to share with you freely. I once fashioned a sign from a piece of paper that said “safe space” for a friend to whip out in instances when she felt uncomfortable raising a concern with me.
It felt dramatic at the time, but since then she has whipped it out a few times and it is a reminder to me to hold myself accountable to the norms we set together in the years prior. This is not all about touchy-feely la-la feelings; it is vital that those around you with the best interests of the community have an open-door policy with you, and if they feel that no longer exists, at best, they will work to find a replacement for you (see: Team Fetterman). At worst, they will disengage from the process and begin to feel jaded about politics altogether. Whatever you do, don’t be another reason why someone stops believing in representative democracy. There’s enough of those out there already.
In the latter case, you may need to find new confidantes who can be more critical of you. You can also try to elicit this behavior by being more forthcoming with ethical or moral dilemmas you find yourself dealing with in order to message to those around you that you are open to advice and, indeed, seek their input and guidance. You can attempt to cue the behavior from those around you by saying things like: “I know I’m supposed to know how to respond, but I could really use your thoughts on this” or “Would you mind telling me your thoughts on this situation? I’m torn on what to do,” etc. In writing this I reached out to a few different advocates from various issue areas to see if they could remember examples of when I exhibited this behavior. One advocate, who preferred to not be named due to ongoing work in the Delaware Legislature, pointed to a legislative effort I led in years prior and said:
“You facilitated conversations between the stakeholders and ensured open communication rather than siloing people (which is a common tactic many of your colleagues use to limit/control information and use the explicit or implicit threat of cutting off access to the conversation/information as a way to exert power). You held meetings that included both [advocacy group] and [state agency] as well as creating email threads for [second state agency,] [first named state agency,] and the [advocacy group] to all share their feedback and thoughts openly with you and each other in order for you to make an informed decision.”
A few different advocates I questioned pointed to a different example, my vote in support of the famed Seaford LLC Voting Rights Act of 2023. They each expressed initial frustration with my support of the bill, but then eventual understanding once they realized that I had supported it with the understanding that it would fail in the Senate and that it needed to pass the House for House Republicans to support the passage of the Bond Bill. That being said, the lesson here for me was: Loop in advocates earlier in the process, instead of resorting to “trust me bro” when taking a controversial stance in the midst of chaos and emotion. In retrospect, it may have been more politically savvy for me to have voted no, and held strong with the more progressive wing of the Democratic caucus, and this would’ve been evident to me had I spoken to advocates earlier on in the decision-making process. It did, however, garner me favor amongst Democratic leadership who was at an impasse with House Republicans at the time and also took heat off of progressive members who did not vote for the measure.
After I finished this article in May of 2026, another instance of my failure to practice this behavior occurred. How’s my usage of the passive voice? I’ll try it again. I failed to perform the very behavior I thought I had learned a lesson on from the June 2023 debacle. Late in June 2026, I went “not voting” on Senate Bill 100, the first leg of a constitutional amendment to add gay marriage to the State Constitution. In the mayhem of the end of legislative session, I made a stubborn decision to make a political statement on the bill, knowing that it would not pass or fail with my vote. I intentionally did not inform any advocates or community organizers of my decision because I thought I knew how they would respond. They would tell me not to do it, or maybe just cuss me out and tell me I was being stupid or being petty…and they would have been correct. Despite writing, months prior, in the immediately preceding paragraph to “loop in advocates earlier in the process,” I allowed my emotions and stubbornness to cloud my judgement. I was frustrated that my bill to legalize marriages between first-cousins failed the year prior and I was especially pissed off that one legislator in particular who purported to be pushing the bill “for marriage equality” and “interracial marriage protection” had voted against that very bill. It was hypocritical. I also knew that she was only pushing the bill as a political device, not because she believed it would improve the quality of life for any Delawareans in same-sex or interracial marriages. I still find it dishonest and cheap how many Democrats use the Trump administration as a talking point while consistently voting against bills that would improve the quality of life for thousands of Americans, including those in same-sex and interracial marriages. That very day, for example, the same member in question voted against a measure to improve affordable housing for families across the state. I was pissed off. It was a learning lesson for me for sure. I asked advocates for the LGBTQ community to weigh in on the fallout and they said the following:
“I was upset because I saw [your] vote as unstrategic (i.e., there was no leverage you were gaining to actually pass your own bill to protect existing marriages between first cousins) and was annoyed that you didn’t try to actually do something strategic, in coalition with your caucus members, to bring back and pass your bill. I figured that, having now associated your bill with your SB100 vote, you’d condemn it to never passing.”
“Even though the bill wouldn’t change anyone’s existing rights or material conditions, I saw no cons in voting for the bill (since you wouldn’t be able to leverage your floor vote to get your bill passed). There is a legitimate and important conversation to be had about pushing our state legislature to focus on passing LGBTQ+ bills through an intersectional framework, but I felt that this vote was not the place to push back—and that there are other people more suited to lead that push through a different approach.”
“Think about how much governance is based on human connection and our ability to tolerate and get along with one another. That means we HAVE to have uncomfortable conversations of accountability and vulnerability (not just buzzwords) with our people. We need to decenter government as an abstract entity and recenter it as a living, breathing group of people who have real friends, families, social lives, and hobbies, folks who make mistakes not (always) for nefarious reasons, but because they are human.”
If I were to sum up the debacle to two traits of mine it would be laziness and arrogance. Perhaps if I had broached the topic with fellow advocates they would have discouraged me from voting “not voting”. But it is also possible they would have advised me on how to strategically leverage my vote to get my bill to pass, or how to have community advocates with me as I did so it was better received. Truthfully, I was so emotional at the time and exhausted, I did not want to have any conversations on the matter. Boy, did that backfire! The amount of time and focus I had to commit to the bill in the week after my decision dwarfed anything I can imagine would have been required if I had just told my boosters prior to making the decision. I thought I knew what I was doing and did not need them to weigh in: arrogance.
It wasn’t all negative though. Another lesson I learned was that there are many people who have seen my track record and did not jump to conclusions about my vote. One such person and member of the LGBTQ community sent me the following: “I know the last 24 hours have been hectic for you, and I am sorry you are going through this…F*** these stupid democrats and these dumb*** white people who talk all this s*** without understanding the power of a protest vote or have the privilege of never needing to do one. Stand strong, shake off the haters, and embrace all the love and support we have for you!”
I did. And despite my feelings being hurt and being frustrated by the entire charade of a bill that was little more than a political weapon, I spent time and energy convincing and encouraging my colleagues to change their votes to “yes.” Through this process, I learned another valuable lesson. The last thing some of these so-called LGBTQ advocates wanted was for the bill to pass. On two occasions, that was made crystal clear. We did it anyway.
Social Distancing, Isolation, and Quarantine
Don’t spend the majority of your social time with other elected officials. When your work life becomes your social life you are in for a world of hurt.
You need boundaries. Boundaries are healthy.
While it is necessary and, at times, enjoyable, to spend quality time with your coworkers and to connect over shared values and interests, this needs to be done thoughtfully. Set clear expectations. What is the goal of spending this quality time together? Mutual respect? A deeper connection so that you can better communicate civilly? Beautiful. Great. But, much like a romantic relationship, know your non-negotiables before going into the interaction and don’t allow the happy times to cloud your understanding of where someone is coming from. No amount of happy hours and margaritas on the rocks will make up for a mismatch in values or priorities. Getting to know your colleagues on a more personal level can lead to amazing partnerships that help thousands of Delawareans, but they can also cloud your judgement.
How do you know when this is happening? When someone who you trust and who shares your values is criticizing something you did — or something someone else did — and your best argument in defense of the action is, “but he’s so nice,” or any iteration of basically saying that this political actor is your friend. 🚩
Your constituents didn’t elect you to make friends in the Capitol, sweetie, they elected you to represent them. Your constituents are your “friends.” They are also your boss and your employers. “But how am I supposed to get anything done if no one likes me?” The same way you’re cordial at work but don’t invite everyone over for Thanksgiving dinner. You might even have some coworkers you don’t invite to lunch at the food court, because they are just a bit…strange (See: Kathy). Practice the same discernment and boundaries in the halls of power. “What if that doesn’t work?” Then dump sunlight on the darkness and represent your community unapologetically that way. It works.
There’s a saying, “Don’t get your honey where you get your money.” In this context, I’ll say: “Don’t get your honey where you get the people’s money.” That should be a no-brainer, but too many people find themselves caught up in compromising relationships in the halls of power. I know of at least three divorces, lots of infidelity, and even more drama. Don’t get caught up, which means don’t let your guard down. You may need to practice some social distancing to stay healthy in this regard.
On the flipside, it is not uncommon to find you may start to distance yourself from people you used to spend time with. A new demanding schedule, coupled with commuting, possibly juggling one or two other jobs — it could happen to any one of us. But it is important that you not do this! Do not quarantine yourself from your circle. I find some of the most quality and informative interactions are with my friends who I had in my life before I was elected. One of my best friends is anti-vaccine and thinks that they cause autism. She has a bachelor’s degree in health sciences. Another friend doesn’t eat seed oils anymore and is one of the healthiest, most physically fit people I know. Each of them offers me a unique window into the community I represent and the world around me. I strongly believe that having them in my life makes me a better legislator.
Isolating yourself from your existing network of friends and family, whether due to conflicting political views or a busy schedule, is not a good idea, especially if you want to represent the diversity of your community and attempt to understand them and where they are coming from. You don’t have to agree with them, of course. But if you can’t understand them and where they are coming from, you definitely can’t deliver solutions that will resonate with them.
Closing
You’re not immune. None of us are. The virus of selling out doesn’t discriminate based on age (yes, young people sell out), ideology, class status (sometimes being self-funded can help to insulate you), or how righteous and grassroots your initial campaign may have been. The virus spreads quietly, patiently, and persistently, and is often disguised as pragmatism, compromise, or even progress.
The good news is, now that you know you’re susceptible, you can take steps to protect yourself from falling victim. That practice must be built, maintained, and sometimes reassembled after failures. Every time you set healthy boundaries, hold yourself accountable, or allow others to hold you accountable, you build up those defenses. As the poet Dylan Thomas once wrote: “Do not go gentle into that good night…Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”
You can allow yourself to drift, slowly and comfortably, you can allow the inertia of the halls of power to take the wheel and drive. Or you can fight. Daily, imperfectly, sometimes unsuccessfully, to remain aligned with your community. It may cost you friendships, opportunities — hell, it might even cost you an election. But the alternative costs far more.
So roll up your sleeves. Wash your hands. Get the jab. And when you feel like you’re starting to come down with something, don’t hide the symptoms — treat them.