The American left has a Texas problem.
Really, it’s a problem of Red vs. Blue. I’m not talking about the problem with treating decisions about how we govern society as if it was a horse race, or between teams at a sporting event. What I’m thinking about today — in the spirit of deescalating every conflict that isn’t with our true enemies (thank you, Margaret Killjoy) — is the way misconceptions about who lives in Texas, and how we vote, encourage an attitude of disposability and dehumanization.
As a Texas journalist, one cornerstone of my work has been making people understand that what happens in this state is relevant to them, even if they live outside of it. Southern states like Texas have been a laboratory for so much of the Republican policy that’s now being implemented nationwide by the Trump regime. More so, the lives of people here matter a great deal to me, and they should matter to you too.
So why do I see liberals from other states who are willing, even eager, to abandon the people who live here? Oh, right, because of assumptions about how you think we vote. (This is part of why I, as a journalist, never talk about how I vote.)
I still run the social media for the Texas Observer, a part-time gig I’m grateful to have both for the income it provides but also because I appreciate the work that TXO does in reaching people outside our state and convincing them that Texas matters. I know their reporting is read by grateful folks all over the world, some of the same people who read me.
You’re not “supposed” to read the comments, but it’s part of the work to keep an eye on social media replies, and block obvious trolls and bigots. Some days though, I’m more bothered by the toxic comments that come from folks that are seemingly left of center … or at least they voted Democrat, which I know is often not the same thing.
Here’s one example. Last month, in their March/April 2025 magazine, the Observer published an article about the crisis of mental health in rural towns, sensitively reported by Daniel Carter, who focused on one of many regions with very little safety net and lots of poverty. And the replies to social posts about the story were full of crap like this:
![Screenshot from Bsky of some very rude jerks: "People in Texas with mental illness is not news." and "You know their [sic] fucked in the head it's Texas and there [sic] asshole Republicans"](https://kitoconnell.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/04/Screenshot_20250413_175935_Bluesky-1024x909.jpg)
(I’m censoring the image here so you can’t see anyone’s name, and I’m not asking you to harass anyone. This is a sample of the kind of stuff that comes in daily. And I want to note this comes from Bsky, where so many fled to escape from X.com’s toxicity.)
I shouldn’t need to elaborate why this attitude is terrible.
4.8 million people voted for Kamala Harris in Texas. That’s about half as many as voted for Harris in a “blue” state like California (where 6 million people voted for Trump! — those are your neighbors too).
But there’s something that matters more than elections, and that’s our common humanity and our spirit of defiance. Yes, conservatism has long dominated the state’s politics, but Texas has also created successful movements for change. Roe v. Wade and Lawrence v. Texas are two landmark Supreme Court rulings that enabled bodily autonomy and expanded human rights under the law. Neither of these rulings came out of thin air, nor did they happen because of people that parachuted in from “blue” states. They were born of decades of political activism, direct action and movement building, right here in Texas.
A key thesis of Rebecca Solnit’s A Paradise Built In Hell is that, during natural disasters and other catastrophes, many of the artificial barriers we create between each other fall away. She argues that, during times of great need, we’re better able to see each other’s common humanity. I’ve experienced this during mutual aid efforts after floods in Austin. We fed our neighbors and helped them tear out moldy drywall; we didn’t ask them who they voted for.
Right now, we’re living through multiple near apocalyptic emergencies, from the climate to the president disappearing people into concentration camps. Simultaneously, our enemies are arguing that empathy itself is a kind of fatal malfunction in the human species. I think it’s the opposite: that empathy is at the core of being human. The fact that we can bond with pets, with neighbors, with strangers across the world, sometimes even inanimate objects is, on the whole, a beautiful part of being alive.
I understand why sometimes it’s funny to laugh when the “leopard’s eat people’s faces” but the reality is most people don’t deserve to have their faces eaten by leopards. It’s absolutely a problem that we’re encouraged to vote against our own interests and those of humanity … and I’ll never break bread with a fascist. Still, I believe we must embrace our righteous anger at the state of the world without becoming as meanspirited and inhuman as our enemies.
For my readers outside of Texas and other Southern states, I imagine a lot of you already understand all this. Even so, I’m asking you to work a little harder to call in the people around you when you hear them throwing folks in the South under the bus.
Read this: How to start a mask bloc
The “How to Start A Mask Bloc” zine was created by Mask Up Pittsburgh in collaboration with numerous other mask blocs around the country, and it was cited as an inspiration by the groups in my recent article about Texas mask blocs. This zine is incredibly thorough, covering topics from group organization to how to dispense and display masks. Even if you’re offering other types of mutual aid, I think it has useful tips for supporting your community.
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