I wanted to take a moment to share my story with you and how I got here. They say that there are two important days in your life; the day you're born and the day you find out why. On Tuesday, November 8th, 2016, I found out why.

Born and raised in Southern California, I lived in a bubble. Being white made that bubble more insular. I’m a glass half full kinda gal and firmly believed that we were all equal and if we worked hard enough, we could do anything; be anything.

 One time, my husband, Andy, and I were driving through Frederick, Maryland with his sister who lives there. As we were passing a graveyard, she said “that is where Francis Scott Key is buried.” I said, “who is that?” Andy slammed on the brakes in reaction to the horror he felt for my alarming lack of knowledge about American history. I mean, this is coming from a guy who would have political debates at the bus stop in Falls Church, Virginia when he was eight years old. 

 Once he explained who Francis Scott Key was, I wasn’t embarrassed, I was ashamed; not because of Andy but because “how do I not know this?”. I have to say, Andy has a very patient demeanor in the way he explains things and can take any subject and turn it into a teachable moment; no matter how simple or complex the subject is. That’s his gift. 

 Any time there was an election, I would lean on Andy for who/what to vote for. One time, we got into a discussion about state politics and when he mentioned California’s Congress, I quickly got on my soapbox with pointed finger and corrected him; “Congress is in Washington D.C. Everyone knows this.” He was adamant when he argued that California indeed does have its own Congress and in fact, every state has its own Congress. An argument ensued, at least on my end. When I finally conceded, Andy said “my god, please don’t tell anyone that you don’t know that.” So, I tell everyone because I think the context is important. I think there are a lot of people like me who might be embarrassed to admit that, they too, don’t know how our government works, the importance of voting, and the difference they can make.

 That November in 2016 I was confident we would watch the first woman be elected president of the United States and I was there for it. When the former guy was elected instead, terror struck me to my core. I couldn’t move or breathe. It was at that exact moment that I said to myself, “Oh my god; this is how people of color have felt forever and I have failed as a citizen.” For, at least, the next month I cried every day. Any person of color I saw, I would hug and apologize. One hundred percent of them I did not know. I was a mess and trying to navigate my way to come to terms with our brutal history and how it continues only to morph under another, “more acceptable” name. I was not ok. 

My professional background is in marketing and advertising and during this time, I was working in corporate America. As each day passed after the election, I wasn’t getting better. I was getting worse and the weight of despair was heavy. Then I heard about The Women’s March in D.C. and I bought a plane ticket for Andy and me. “We’re going all the way,” I told him. He was completely onboard and supported me without question. I asked him if he would make me a sign and I told him that I wanted it to say “Feminist as Fuck;” he didn’t waiver and made the sign. 

Andy couldn’t get off work that Friday, so he took the red eye to get there in time for the March on Saturday. I flew in that Thursday. I was there alone and I didn’t feel safe. Everyone I looked at, I questioned and thought to myself “Are you a friendly? Do you hate me? Will you hurt me?” And then there were people whipping out their red MAGA hats, proudly putting them on their heads with their chests puffed out and white supremacy on their sleeves. I mostly kept to myself. 

Saturday morning, I went downstairs for breakfast and one by one people started pulling out and putting on their pink hats. Those pink hats. Suddenly I could breathe a little. I felt hopeful for the first time since that dark day in November. 

Andy texted me that he just landed and was on his way to our hotel in Foggy Bottom. The next thing he

knew he was in a line several hours long just to get on the subway. It took him longer to get from Dulles airport to Foggy Bottom (about 27 miles) than it did to fly from Los Angeles to D.C. By the time he made it to the hotel, the March was starting. Poor guy hadn’t slept all night but he rallied and off we went. As we blended into the sea of pink hats, I felt the most hopeful; hope, that if we keep going, we can fix this tragedy. There is a path.

I knew that we couldn’t fix this with one march but with a series of actions sustained over time. I had no idea what those actions could possibly be. Then came the guide - "Indivisible: A Practical Guide to Resisting the Trump Agenda" - that changed the trajectory of everything. And Indivisible was born. 

A couple of weeks after the Women’s March, I advertised a community Women’s March Huddle as a next step; and when, what seemed like fifty women with eyes like saucers, showed up on my doorstep - we started building a movement which morphed into Northridge Indivisible shortly thereafter, and is under the umbrella of Indivisible. I ended up leaving corporate America to become a full-time activist with a focus on racial justice.

Remember, at the beginning of my story I said that I knew nothing about politics before the former guy was elected? At the time we had our first community meeting, three months later, I didn’t know much more; other than I was willing to get in the arena and learn on the way.

Right now, there is someone in Congress who is willingly hurting people (one of many in Congress, we realize - but we’re focused on this one, in particular) to help advance his own thirst for money and power. He is MAGA Trump Republican Rep. Mike Garcia. He won the seat after Katie Hill resigned a few years ago. 

When people suffer, Black and brown communities feel it even worse and we can’t have that. We won’t stand for it. Congressional District 27 deserves a representative who will serve in the peoples’ interests, not in their self-interest and that person is Christy Smith.

Residents in CD27, who work hard to support their families to make ends meet, are unaware of the insurmountable damage that MAGA Mike is causing and it’s past time to expose him for the extremist he is. That is why we have set an ambitious goal to raise $20,000 to plaster the Antelope Valley with billboards, explaining exactly who MAGA Mike is and we need your help to do it.

Here is an example of a graphic:

While the goal is $20,000 for maximum exposure, we have budget options and here are the breakdowns:

• Option 1: $5,000 gets us a 14' x 48' digital billboard on 14 fwy for 4 weeks

• Option 2: $10,500 gets us 14' x 48' digital billboard on 14 fwy for 8 weeks and 2 days

• Option 3: $4,625 gets us five 10.6' x 22.8' billboards in Antelope Valley on local surface streets

• Option 4: $9,500 gets us ten 10.6' x 22.8' billboards in Antelope Valley on local surface streets

Our goal is both Option 2 and 4 = $20,000 to fully saturate the Antelope Valley - with weekly impressions totally nearly 1 million!

We can’t sit by and watch extremist MAGA Mike repeatedly and purposely misinform the people who believe or willfully ignore his lies. Meanwhile it’s the disenfranchised people who suffer the most. Instead of acting in the best interest of all his constituents, MAGA Mike is caught up in a dangerous game that can not only lead to violence, but death, illness, homelessness, bankruptcy, and more. 

MAGA Mike continues to fleece, deny, oppress, and sacrifice the people of CD27 for money and power.

Because the foundation of America is racism and is embedded in everything - it makes it nearly impossible for Black and brown people to be on a level playing field with white people. I know that I have white privilege and I feel strongly that I must use it to uplift Black and brown voices and stand shoulder to shoulder with them to help tear down systemic racism so we all thrive. 

We know that when we come together, no matter where we’re from, what we look like, who we love, or what religion we may or may not practice, we can do anything. We’ve done it twice before. Once in 2018 and again in 2020. Personally, we like things in threes.

Can we count on you to make a contribution right now and share this story with three of your friends with the same ask for a contribution? 

Leaving no stone unturned, Mrs. Smith is going to Washington.

In solidarity, 

Michelle
Founder and Chair of Northridge Indivisible

P.S. Francis Scott Key wrote The Star-Spangled Banner, which was inspired by the poem he wrote in 1814 after watching the British bombard Fort McHenry during the War of 1812. When he noticed that our flag was still flying over the fort at dawn, he wrote the poem. Also, let’s not ignore this: Racism, Rhetoric, and Research: Francis Scott Key and Our National Anthem