‘We Got Something Wrong’: California Gears Up for Resistance, with a New Approach
The state's Democrats continue to aim to spearhead the opposition to Donald Trump, yet they are also navigating shifts within their own political landscape.
Shortly after the recent election, a group of Orange County Democrats sought the assistance of a therapist to help them navigate the emotional landscape following Donald Trump's return to power. The session covered a range of topics, from “stages of grief” to strategies for “increasing distress tolerance” and “self-soothing.”
The approach taken by the Irvine Democratic Club to manage feelings about a second Trump presidency definitely resonates with California's unique vibe — a stronghold of progressive politics that stands in stark contrast to Trump’s first term.
“This is a safe place,” the therapist, Rachel O’Neil, informed the group of about twenty Democrats while sharing her presentation. She then encouraged participants to raise their hands if they felt sad, scared, or exhausted. The discussion included concepts such as mindfulness, “micro-dosing hope,” and “radical acceptance.”
“Holding space for our feelings right now is very important,” she affirmed.
It quickly became apparent that the Democratic resistance to Trump's presidency would take a different shape compared to 2017. Nationwide, a decline in the number of Democrats preparing to protest was evident, with some opting to disconnect from the news. In Washington, Democratic lawmakers are recalibrating, with some progressives open to certain populist policy proposals from Trump while expecting him to fail.
In California, it appears that not only is the nature of the resistance changing, but the state itself is evolving. The political climate here looks different compared to when Trump was elected eight years ago — a time when Elon Musk was declaring Trump “not the right guy,” Robert F. Kennedy Jr. was relatively unknown, and Kamala Harris was just beginning her Senate career. Following the recent election, California seems to exhibit a slightly more conservative tilt. Democrats are facing what some term an identity crisis, prompting a careful reevaluation of their party’s standing in the political landscape.
Despite Harris winning California by about 20 percentage points, this outcome marked a significant shift toward Trump compared to 2020. Trump succeeded in flipping ten counties that had previously supported Joe Biden and made inroads throughout the state. Notably, he decreased his loss margin in heavily Democratic Los Angeles County by more than 11 percentage points. Meanwhile, in Orange County, which has a history as a Republican bastion before it turned blue in 2016 with Hillary Clinton, Trump lost by nearly 7 percentage points less than in the previous election.
Focusing on broader trends, former Governor Gray Davis highlighted the Democratic losses across the state.
“Look at what happened in San Francisco,” he remarked, referring to the ousting of Mayor London Breed by a moderate Democrat over issues regarding the city's homelessness and drug crises. He pointed to Oakland, where both the mayor and progressive district attorney faced recall elections with significant margins, and in Los Angeles, where a Republican-turned-independent unseated liberal district attorney George Gascón.
Ballot initiatives also demonstrated a shift in sentiment. After voters had previously chosen to lessen penalties for certain crimes, they recently approved a stricter crime initiative. The electorate rejected a measure that aimed to ban forced prison labor, declined to raise the minimum wage, and dismissed another initiative to expand rent control.
“Everyone ought to look in the mirror,” Davis said, “because they’re working for voters who are marching to a different drummer.”
Davis knows firsthand how swiftly political dynamics can change, having experienced a recall election himself that brought Arnold Schwarzenegger, California's last Republican governor, to power. While California is not turning red entirely, he noted that “the fight is never fully won,” even in a state that has seen considerable gains for the Democratic Party in recent years.
In Irvine, the Democrats did not plan to riot at the Capitol, as some Republicans did in the wake of Trump's previous election loss. Instead, they participated in a therapy session and distributed cards with resources for immigrants in distress.
After the meeting, I spoke with Florice Hoffman, Lauren Johnson-Norris, and Tammy Kim, who had recently lost a race for mayor. Standing in the parking lot, the conversation reflected a different spirit of resistance.
“In 2016, we went right to the streets,” Hoffman noted. This year, Johnson-Norris added, “we got something wrong […] I think we just missed what people care about.”
Eight years prior, a Public Policy Institute of California poll indicated that 54 percent of Californians believed the state was on the right track. This number has since plummeted to 38 percent, with two-thirds of residents expressing concern over the economy and anticipating difficult times ahead. This marked a striking reversal from 2016, when optimism prevailed.
With home values in California now more than double the national average, high rents, and an increasing homeless population, many factors have contributed to this shift. Insurance companies are also abandoning policies for homeowners in areas vulnerable to wildfires.
Despite a smooth reelection campaign in 2022, Gov. Gavin Newsom currently has an underwater approval rating, with 53 percent of Californians disapproving of his performance.
This decline in support helps to explain the disjointed approach of California Democrats leading up to Trump's anticipated second term, despite Democratic gains in the House. Concerned about potential repercussions of Trump's agenda on crucial issues, including abortion rights, immigration, and environmental protections, Newsom initiated a special legislative session to strengthen California's legal defenses. He emphasized that California “won’t sit idle,” but also expressed a desire to engage with the administration “with an open hand, not a closed fist.” His post-election jobs tour included visits to more conservative parts of the state, acknowledging the party's notable losses among working-class voters.
Elizabeth Ashford, who served as a senior adviser to two former governors and chief of staff to Harris, described Newsom's approach as exhibiting “a lot of humility.”
“Californians are miffed about the cost of living, affordability issues, and the direction the state is going,” she noted. “What it means to be a Democrat in the state is going to shift — not toward the extremist and racist views of the Trump administration, nobody is going to stop resisting those. But it definitely is going to be a time to reflect on what does it mean to be a Democrat.”
Even though Republicans struggle to become competitive in California — where Democrats hold supermajorities in both legislative houses and no Republican presidential candidate has won since George H.W. Bush in 1988 — the possibility exists that a failure to correct course could result in significant changes.
“It wouldn’t be shocking,” Ashford remarked, “if we returned to more of a purple look.”
Jerry Brown, who was enjoying a muffin during our conversation in a Sacramento coffee shop, previously held the governorship when Trump first assumed office in 2017. He had positioned California as a “beacon of hope to the rest of the world,” emphasizing the state’s role as a counterbalance to Trump’s policies.
With Trump bracing to reaffirm his climate change stance, and amid his moves to reinforce coal production, Brown noted that California could once again step forward as a leading alternative. When I inquired about preparations for a new Trump administration, he responded straightforwardly.
“Whatever he does that we don’t like, that’s the dispute,” he stated. “Just write your damn brief and get going, that’s what the attorney general does.”
However, Brown also emphasized that this time around, “Trump is more prepared … he’s going to be more extreme.”
Brown identified the election results as reflective of the challenges facing Democrats. He pointed to Imperial County, a high-unemployment agricultural region bordering Mexico, where Biden won by a substantial margin, but Trump nevertheless outperformed Harris this year.
“When you see Imperial County going for Trump and Orange County going for Harris,” he noted, it signifies that the party is succeeding among wealthier coastal Californians while losing ground with working-class families.
He advised Democrats to “get their act together,” stressing the importance of focusing on fundamental issues such as the economy and the environment. Brown also recognized that Trump’s actions might provide Democrats with an unexpected opening, particularly concerning climate change.
“If the assault on the environment is as extreme as expected,” he predicted, “then I believe the fervor for protecting the environment will increase far beyond what it is today.” Other Democrats share similar sentiments regarding various issues.
During Trump’s first term, the then-state attorney general, now Health and Human Services Secretary Xavier Becerra, initiated over 100 lawsuits on matters ranging from immigration to healthcare and environmental policies. Presently, some lawmakers and activist groups are advocating for enhanced funding beyond Newsom’s requests to gear up for potential legal battles against the incoming administration.
It seems probable that when Trump resumes office, California will assert itself yet again as a prominent alternative to his presidency. With ambitions for the future, Newsom and Harris are both potential contenders for the 2028 presidential race. In her initial major address since conceding the election, Harris called on Americans to “stay in the fight.” As Trump implements policies that many in California vehemently oppose, especially regarding immigration and climate change, a strong backlash can be anticipated.
California Democrats are not simply waiting anxiously for direction. During a recent Sunday morning meeting at the First African Methodist Episcopal Church of Los Angeles, Rev. Robert Shaw II called for a new wave of civil rights leaders inspired by figures like Booker T. Washington and W.E.B. Du Bois. He emphasized civil action by encouraging congregants to boycott corporations like Amazon and Tesla, following controversies surrounding them.
“We were looking for America the beautiful, but instead we got the explicit version,” he proclaimed. “Not A-M-E-R-I-C-A. But we got A-M-E-R-I-KKK-A.”
“It’s time for us to stand up and do something,” he urged.
Simultaneously, a gathering of advocacy groups in South Los Angeles focused on California’s role in the forthcoming Trump era. They, too, engaged in breathing exercises, but discussions also centered around “going on the offensive” and finding ways to “protect each other.” Community organizer Daniel Jimenez expressed urgency regarding upcoming challenges, aiming to “ignite the movement.” Labor icon Dolores Huerta referred to the activists as “Marines in the struggle.” As the sound of an airplane from nearby Los Angeles International Airport resonated overhead, activist Agustin Cabrera asserted, “Today is about expressing the real California, the ones who want more progressive policies. That’s the real California.”
This core identity has been prominent in the past and remains significant today, but recent changes complicate that narrative.
The day the California legislature convened its special session, I met with Anthony Rendon, the former Assembly speaker, in suburban Los Angeles. Upon hearing about the therapist in Orange County, he rolled his eyes.
“That’s so us,” he quipped, labeling it “new age crap.”
Rendon expressed his concerns, noting that “it seems like all we do is preach to the choir.”
He acknowledged that political analysts might be drawing too many conclusions from minor electoral shifts. After all, Trump captured the national popular vote by a slim margin of less than 2 percentage points. Yet, he cautioned, “If you don’t realize now that there’s a huge part of this country who doesn’t care about democracy, dedicated to a strongman model, whether you call that fascism or whatever, that wouldn’t have changed if Kamala Harris had won.”
As we discussed the current climate in California, Rendon reflected on his past beliefs and acknowledged a change in perspective regarding the nation’s direction. He humorously noted that by the time his children are eligible to vote, “Maybe California won’t be part of the republic.”
He elaborated on the evolving concept of nation-states and questioned their geographic relevance. The collective identity within a vast nation feels increasingly tenuous to him.
“My wife and I will go to Tokyo or Mexico City and we’ll wander into a cool craft bar scene and feel like we have more in common with those people than we do with some NASCAR, evangelical kid from Mississippi,” he explained. “We’ve gotten sort of nostalgic in and around ideas of the U.S. I mean, the country started as a small little thing and now it’s 300 million people.”
While Rendon dismissed the notion of secession, he acknowledged an ongoing dialogue surrounding separation and connectivity, pondering the relevance of traditional national identity. He selected Idaho as an example, expressing uncertainty about whether it shares common ground with Californians.
“I was in Idaho recently,” he shared. “I don’t know that they want to be with us any more than we want to be with them.”
Alejandro Jose Martinez contributed to this report for TROIB News