Appalachia Forward

I grew up in a holler in the coalfields of the Cumberland Mountains. Farmer and miner folk taught me to make do in struggle, find joy in community, and take care of my neighbors. These mountains, ancient and steadfast, have witnessed generations of hardworking people—folks who’ve built this country with calloused hands and open hearts. Yet, this November, as the election results rolled in, those same mountains felt heavy, shadowed in the disappointment of our papaws and daddies of a bygone union era.

This year, we, the people of Appalachia, lost. While Kamala Harris walked back progressive policies that could have energized poor and working class folks, Donald Trump boldly proclaimed a destructive agenda—one more likely to dismantle your Social Security than lower your grocery bill.

The Democratic Party can do better by us four years from now when they choose the next presidential candidate. But before that can happen, we have to reckon with our losses and the lessons they carry.

The Fault Lines Beneath Our Loss

This isn’t just about numbers or polling data. It’s about a fracture—a growing chasm between the Democratic Party and the communities we claim to champion. Our defeat was the result of three intertwined failures: an inability to confront America’s historical injustices, a neglect of working-class economic realities, and a refusal to meaningfully expand the electorate. These failures are the fault lines beneath our loss, and unless we reckon with them, they will only deepen.

The Weight of History: America’s Original Sin

Kamala Harris’s defeat and Donald Trump’s victory illuminate a grim truth: America’s unresolved history of colonialism, slavery, and systemic oppression continues to shape our present. This election didn’t create racism, sexism, or economic inequity; it revealed what already lay beneath the surface. Trump’s rhetoric tapped into fears that have simmered for generations, inflaming anxieties about identity and belonging.

Yet, acknowledging this isn’t enough. The Democratic Party must embody an unapologetic commitment to dismantling these systems. That means addressing racism not as a talking point, but as a lived reality. It means fighting for equity—not just as policy, but as practice. And above all, it means demonstrating that we, too, belong to this place and its people.

Zach Beauchamp’s analysis helps us untangle how racism showed up in this election.

Failing to Meet Material Needs

Let’s be honest: Trump speaks to people’s frustrations, even if his solutions are hollow. In a post-pandemic world defined by inflation, stagnant wages, and economic precarity, his message resonates because it’s simple. It offers someone to blame. Democrats, meanwhile, have been too busy reacting to MAGA rhetoric to craft our own message of hope and change.

We need to be the party of the paycheck-to-paycheck worker, the underpaid teacher, the struggling farmer. We must fight for livable wages, affordable housing, and a future where people can thrive in the communities they love. It’s not enough to say, “We’re not Trump.” We must boldly proclaim what we are: a party that understands and fights for working people. We must have a platform of solutions for working folk on which we boldly stand.

Elisabeth Buchwald’s peice helps us understand how material needs factored into this election, and what’s likely in the next four years.

Failure to Expand the Electorate: The Fatal Flaw

Our most glaring failure was our inability to expand the electorate. Millions of people who voted in 2020 didn’t show up this year—not because they’ve changed their minds, but because we didn’t give them a reason to believe. Gen Z, the most progressive generation in history, stayed home in alarming numbers. Why? Because we failed to speak to their disillusionment with a broken system. We all know the system is broken. We feel it in these mountains every day: at the gas pump, in the grocery store, and when we open our power bills. The Democratic Party did little to show us they had a plan to change that.

Even worse, our party’s tepid response to the genocide in Gaza alienated voters who once looked to us for moral clarity. By prioritizing cautious pragmatism over principled action, we betrayed their trust. We cannot claim to be the party of justice while turning a blind eye to oppression.

To put this simply: this was our loss, not Trump’s victory.

The Overconfidence in the Anti-MAGA Coalition

One of the biggest mistakes Democrats made was putting too much faith in what Ezra Klein calls the “anti-MAGA coalition.” After nearly winning the 2022 midterms, the Party started to believe in a simple idea: that voters were divided into two camps—those who stood with Trump and those who stood against him. They thought the anti-MAGA crowd, fired up by issues like abortion rights and the fight for democracy, would always show up to counter Trump’s base.

That idea became the backbone of the Biden-Harris campaign. They spent most of their time talking about the dangers of Trump and the threats he posed to our democracy. Biden launched his campaign with this message, and Harris closed with it. But while they were focused on those threats, they missed what a lot of folks were really worried about: paying the bills, finding steady work, and keeping food on the table.

As Ezra Klein put it, Democrats didn’t see how many voters were drifting away—not because they didn’t care about democracy, but because their lives were consumed by more immediate concerns. They weren’t thinking about Trump’s rhetoric; they were thinking about how to stretch their paycheck to cover rising grocery bills. And instead of speaking to those everyday struggles, we just kept talking about Trump.

Here’s the truth: people needed to hear what we stood for, not just what we stood against. They needed to know we were fighting for them, that we had real solutions for the things keeping them up at night. But we didn’t give them that. And so, they stayed home.

Disillusionment and Detachment

This miscalculation had real consequences. By relying on the anti-MAGA coalition to counter Trump’s base, Democrats neglected the hard work of expanding the electorate. They failed to engage a broader swath of voters, particularly those who felt left behind by a political system they see as broken. As Klein writes, this “blind spot” in the Democratic strategy allowed real-time economic anxieties to take precedence over partisan concerns for many Americans.

This disillusionment extended to Gen Z voters, who are entering a job market defined by instability and economic precarity. The system has failed them, and they know it. Democrats failed to speak to this pain, leaving an opening for the Republican Party to craft a narrative—however false—that resonated more strongly with these voters. Meanwhile, our own messaging fell flat, offering little to inspire trust or participation.

Lessons for the Future

The lesson here is clear: we cannot rely on past coalitions to carry us forward. If Democrats want to win, we must do the hard work of reaching disillusioned and economically detached voters, expanding the electorate in the process. This means crafting a message that directly addresses immediate, material concerns, while also showing moral clarity on issues of justice.

Ezra Klein’s analysis reinforces what we already know: focusing solely on MAGA threats isn’t enough. We must meet voters where they are, with bold, solutions-driven policies that offer hope and tangible change. Expanding the electorate isn’t just about winning elections; it’s about restoring faith in a system that so many have abandoned. If we fail to learn this lesson, we risk losing not just elections, but the trust and engagement of a generation.

The Stories We Tell Ourselves

If we’re going to rebuild trust, we need to start with the stories we tell about ourselves—and the stories others tell about us. In every corner of our communities, stories shape how people understand the world—and this election proved just how powerful those stories can be. Over the past few years, many of our neighbors have heard stories about the Democratic Party that paint us as out-of-touch, uncaring, or even threatening to their way of life. These stories spread quickly, shared over dinner tables, in church basements, by faux “news” hosts, and through the endless scroll of social media. They were crafted to stoke fear, division, and mistrust.

We need to confront this head-on. Not by dismissing the people who believe these stories, but by telling better ones! Stories rooted in truth, hope, and shared humanity. Stories about how we’ve fought for fair wages, healthcare, and justice for every family. Stories that remind people that we’re their neighbors, too, and that our fight is their fight. Stories that would make our papaws and daddies proud.

This is a battle for hearts and minds, and it won’t be won through flashy ads or soundbites. It will be won by sitting down with our neighbors, listening to their fears, and offering a vision of the future that feels real and achievable. We need to invest in local voices, rebuild trust, and show people—through our actions—that the Democratic Party is a home for everyone who believes in fairness, equity, and care.

A Future Worth Fighting For

Despite the heartbreak, I refuse to lose hope. Appalachia has always been a place of possibility, where people come together to do the hard work of building a better future. We can still win back the trust of our neighbors, but it will take more than words. It will take showing up—in living rooms, union halls, and community centers. It will take listening as much as we speak, and acting with courage instead of caution.

We must begin with a simple truth: we belong to each other. And if we act like it—if we lead with compassion, clarity, and a relentless commitment to justice—we can turn this loss into a foundation for something greater.

So let’s get to work. Let’s expand the electorate, speak to the needs of our communities, and tell the truth—no matter how uncomfortable it may be. The mountains are watching. Let’s show them that our strength lies not just in words, but in action, courage, and care.