Our ancestors in the labor movement fought for bread, but they fought for roses, too. This saying means that while we desire subsistence, we also want beauty.
As a union organizer and Silicon Valley DSA co-chair, I worked non-stop in 2025. Daily local fights just to earn my bread. Like many socialists, it was a joy to get to cheer on Zohran Mamdani’s New York City Mayoral campaign. Then I had a realization: Why do so from afar? Why not give myself a rose? So I decided I would pack my bags and canvas for Mamdani. After trouncing Andrew Cuomo in the primary election, he was almost sure to win. It would be beautiful and I needed a chance to celebrate.
I felt so compelled because frankly, we don’t often win on the left: Bernie’s losses, Roe v Wade killed, and the destruction of Gaza had many feeling depleted. But every now and again? We get a long shot knockout.
So here was the tale of the tape. On one side, a young, relatively green New York Assemblyman. A Muslim. An immigrant. A friggin’ Democratic Socialist. Just reeking of unelectability. On the other side, the most establishment Democrat who ever established: former New York Governor Andrew Cuomo. Zohran shouldn’t have stood a chance. But, despite smears of antisemitism, and the fact that Andrew Cuomo, a disgraced sex pest was willing to ally with any Republican or billionaire with a check book, Zohran was able to organize a historic campaign. This campaign was built on real hope for working people and mobilizing tens of thousands of volunteers.
Back home in Santa Clara County, there was Measure A, a ballot measure to raise $330 Million for our public hospitals. I pushed for Silicon Valley DSA to endorse it. Campaigning for measure A would be a strategic opportunity to build our chapter’s local notoriety and of course winning would be hugely meaningful in our community. Since I am a co-chair and I introduced the resolution for our endorsement, I was feeling a bit selfish leaving town so close to election day. Luckily, trusted comrades encouraged me to take the trip anyway. Those talks were roses for me.
In 2010, I actually lived in Brooklyn and returning on Saturday, November 1st, 2025 was surreal. I roomed with a fascinating but cranky Russian woman named Merina, a 70-year-old immigrant who told me stories of isolation and despair, landlords who fixed nothing, and her past as an economist and poet. When I tried to talk to her about Zohran, she insisted that nothing could change and that Zohran and I were both naive. It reminded me of why his campaign, and focusing on the unvarnished details of working class life, was so empowering because so many had lost hope. But in Zohran’s New York we all matter. Meeting Merina was a rose, even if she hated giving it to me.
The first canvas was Sunday in Park Slope. I got paired up with a first-time volunteer, a nurse practitioner. In the Union, I represent similar workers and we bonded. Zohran had connected with her because she sees how affordability impacts her patients. She was non-Union and we talked about how she could change that. Our time together was a little rose.
That evening I got dinner with a DSA buddy from Portland who also made the pilgrimage. We hung with his friend, a popular drag king. While bar hopping we chatted everyone up about the election. When we hit a bar called Boobie Trap, we talked to a young couple who were making out all night. When they took a short break I interrupted to ask if they supported Zohran.The woman replied, “Do I look like I would vote for Cuomo?”
The last stop before bed was to hit the bodega. I chatted up three native Brooklynites about the election. One of them asked me, “So what exactly does it mean to freeze the rent?” Luckily, Zohran had been so detailed in explaining his platform, I felt I had the tools to explain. The guys said they would look into it. I don’t know if they did. But when I checked out, the shopkeeper confirmed he was voting for Zohran. Nice, bodega rose.
On Monday I had hopped over to New Jersey to canvas for Jake Ephros in his Jersey City City council race (he won.) I hit the doors with a 22-year-old comrade named Mei. She wore a bluetooth boombox slung around her shoulder. For someone so young, she was quite insightful and dedicated. I did have to tell her not to play her boombox at the door though.
A generous person, Mei drove me back into the city where we met up with my Portland comrade again and an old NYC friend. The four of us had a classic NYC Italian dining experience at Monte’s Trattoria and camaraderie was at an all time high. Roses and “Fuggedaboutits abounded.”
Tuesday, I had the surreal experience of canvassing in my old neighborhood, Bushwick. Last time I lived there Occupy Wall Street was happening. I did not participate at all. Times change.
While waiting in line to get my precinct list, one of the volunteers wearing a red “DSA for Zohran” shirt pointed at me and insisted he knew me from somewhere. But how? As we shuffled through the line getting materials it dawned on both of us – we had attended some parties thrown by a mutual friend in San Francisco in 2023. Small world, big roses.
Once again, I was paired with a first-time volunteer. After we canvassed our last door, we ate lunch at a Palestinian restaurant called Ayat Bushwick. While sitting down, we ran into a handful of volunteers (including the one I had met in SF) and decided to all eat together. It didn’t take long before internal DSA politics took over the conversation. Finally, after a couple minutes of what was probably unintelligible shop talk, one of the volunteers bravely stated “So, what’s DSA?” Socialist record scratch.
This brave volunteer was a 28-year-old Dominican native New Yorker who had just been laid off. This ought to be our target demographic. But she’s out here literally canvassing for Zohran and has no idea what DSA is? We’ve got so much work to do. A harsh reminder to not get lost in the red sauce. After lunch, those DSA members let me take a work call at their apartment. Rose and rose.
Finally, polls closed. There were big DSA election night parties scattered across the city. I couldn’t miss out. I went to 9 Bob Note, a wicked warehouse bar and club. Zohran felt larger than life at this point. When I finally got inside the energy was incredible. Will Menaker from Chapo Trap House was there and I got to say hello. Also there were Young Chomsky and Brace Belden from the TrueAnon podcast. Hello, DSA Hollywood after party! Plus I kept running into people I had met on the trip. The Drag king! My Portland comrade I didn’t even expect to be there! Ara, one of the NYC-DSA staff! It was like the end of Wizard of Oz and I just kept thinking, “And you were there, and you were there.”
The moment we were all waiting for was fast approaching. By now, many of us crowded tightly into the dance floor area of the event space. There were a few hosts there to get us hyped up. And then it happened: Zohran is announced the winner. The Mayor-elect sign flashes on the big screen. The building erupts. Incredible.
This felt like a peak in my socialist career. Crammed in with hundreds of other comrades, most of whom I am sure worked a lot more on this campaign than I did, cheering, crying, hugging strangers. No kidding, I did a 360° and the makeout couple from Boobie Trap was standing behind me! We high fived. Roses could have fallen from the ceiling.
Eventually a group of us mozied over to another Zohran party at Starr Bar where more comrades abounded. It really felt like you couldn’t go anywhere to escape the spectre of “Mammunism”. We laughed, we drank, we danced, and a 25-year-old told me I was “Old as fuck.” That rose was a little wilted but I still liked it.
During my final day I made an emotional visit to my old apartment from fifteen years prior. The street itself wasn’t that different, but my understanding of the world was. I sat down in a pizza shop and reflected on my experience and how far I have come.
I am fortunate I have the means for a trip like this. Most do not. Traveling introduced me to so many wonderful people all struggling for their bread and their roses. So many were generous and kind.Their faces lit up when I told them I had come all the way from California to help. And I have so many lessons to bring back to apply in Silicon Valley.
And now I think about how far we have all come. DSA, the Left, and the working-people living in this era of capitalism. More and more are waking up. More and more are hungry for change, hungry for the bread we deserve. The socialist future is ahead of us. Maybe you can’t see it yet. But close your eyes. Breathe it in. Do you smell that? The rose.