Day 74 — February 13, 2025
The US Senate continues to be complicit in Trump’s most disturbing nominees. The anti-vax conspiracy theorist RFK Jr. (who also displayed a stunning ignorance of basic elements of America’s health care system in his confirmation hearings) was confirmed as the new leader of HHS by the Senate, with the only Republican “No” vote being that of Mitch McConnell, who said:
"I'm a survivor of childhood polio. In my lifetime, I've watched vaccines save millions of lives from devastating diseases across America and around the world. I will not condone the re-litigation of proven cures, and neither will millions of Americans who credit their survival and quality of life to scientific miracles….[A] record of trafficking in dangerous conspiracy theories and eroding trust in public health institutions does not entitle Mr. Kennedy to lead [HHS].”
FBI Director nominee Kash Patel also advanced to the Senate on a party-line committee vote, even as evidence emerged that he lied under oath about not being part of firings that are already taking place at the FBI.
In the meantime, a major scandal is already erupting in the newly politicized DOJ, with the resignations of career anti-corruption prosecutors amid what appears to be a “quid pro quo” that led to the dropping of sweeping corruption charges against NYC’s mayor, in exchange for actions he undertook on immigration enforcement. Read all about it HERE.
Patriots of the Week: Ohio students and an activist leader
While battles rage in DC over so many issues, never lose sight that so much of the attack on democracy happens at the state level. In fact, the deepest damage—to public education, to voting rights and democracy, to reproductive freedom and equality—often happens at the state level more than federal.
And that still is the case today.
Here in Ohio, that’s played out in recent weeks in yet another attack against the higher ed institutions in this state—both the curriculum, and the rights of professors themselves.
As historian David Blight wrote this week, the Ohio legislation (SB1/HB6) “introduces government controls over the topics university professors may discuss in the classroom, banning such “controversial” topics as electoral politics, immigration policy, and marriage….This kind of government control over university faculty is more appropriate for authoritarian regimes, such as the Soviet Union, than a mature democracy like the United States, which is committed to the free exchange of ideas.”
Professors like Blight passionately spoke out against the bill in Columbus. Other groups did as well.
But in recent days, one group truly stood out in their presence and activism. Hundreds of students showed up at the statehouse, day after day, to speak out against this bill. They held vigils, silent protests, submitted testimony, testified directly, and—at times—endured being kicked out of various locations in the statehouse .
Yet, they persisted.
While these students were most prominent and visible, far more Ohioans made phone calls to state senators and state representatives, registering our collective opposition to this draconian law.
And amid all this activity, while many have been involved, one leader has led this charge in so many ways. Her name is Rachel Coyle. And she is a one-woman, pro-democracy machine.
While her leadership has been instrumental in raising awareness on and mounting opposition to this awful bill…
….she does the same tireless work on issue after issue, informing activists and groups on the lay of the land and guiding them on how to be most effective in their advocacy.
And like those students, she NEVER gives up—she uses every tool imaginable to get the word out and prod people to see what is happening, then take action to stop it.
To follow Rachel, which I highly recommend, here are her socials:
Facebook: @HowThingsWorkOH
Twitter: @HowThingsWorkOH
Bluesky: @HowThingsWorkOH.bsky.social
TikTok: @RachelCoyleOhio
YouTube: @RachelCoyleOhio
"How Things Work at the Statehouse" email list, sign-up HERE.
Thank you to the students and Rachel for your brave and relentless activism in the face of this assault on higher Ed.
Rachel is such an effective champion, I dedicated a whole chapter of “Saving Democracy” to sharing her advice on how to be most effective.
If you or a group you are in is looking for ways to make a difference, I highly recommend listening to what she tells us all below:
After Donald Trump was elected, countless Americans decided to do something.
In January 2017, millions of women marched in Washington, DC. More than one hundred thousand Americans returned months later for the March for Science. Others protested immigration crackdowns at airports across the nation. Folks joined or formed local grassroots groups around the country, protesting their members of Congress on a weekly basis. Some ran for office for the first time; still others collected signatures to reform state constitutions. And so much more.
In those months, Toledo native Rachel Coyle decided that she, too, would do something. But her choice of what to do was different than most.
Before the Trump presidency, in her early twenties, Rachel had worked both at the Ohio Statehouse and on campaigns. So she learned up close of the immense power that legislatures have over issues everyday Ohioans care about, and over democracy itself. But she also learned something else: too few people understand that state legislative power, or how legislatures work day to day.
So when Rachel decided to “do something” after Trump won, it was to address that problem. She and a friend and colleague told themselves: “Hey—we could teach people about the statehouse. That’s a skill we have.” Specifically, watching political angst boil up all around in early 2017, they designed a simple training program to help. They called it “How Things Work at the Statehouse.” Given how few people paid attention to statehouse activity, they booked a meeting space next to a Columbus bar— capacity, fifty people. They then advertised the session through activist circles and via social media.
Within days, one thousand people signed up.
They kept the original location for that first session, while scheduling the next 950 people to attend sessions in larger locations in the weeks that followed. And from there, the original idea of a one-time training evolved into a roving series of sessions all over Ohio. The first takers were the same activist groups that had sprouted up in response to Trump. Word spread, and more requests from those groups came in. Then traditional county party organizations and clubs reached out, followed by other organizations with a variety of public and civic agendas— the ACLU, Moms Demand Action, Junior League chapters,and others. Rachel has now led hundreds of trainings across the state. Until recently, she did this all as a “hobby,” scheduled around her paid political jobs.
Her training sessions not only explained how Ohio’s legislature operates, but how individuals and groups can most effectively advocate there. Along the way, Rachel started a Facebook group—which now boasts more than ten thousand members— expanded her Twitter account, and opened new Instagram and TikTok accounts. In time, the initial concept of training blossomed into a permanent advocacy infrastructure aimed squarely at the long-ignored Ohio legislature.
Needless to say, Rachel provides an inspiring example of one person using her footprint to mount a major-league fight for democracy. And what she has built occupies critical but often overlooked turf in that fight—turf we need to claim in every state in the country.
Why is Rachel’s statehouse advocacy so important? First, she’s drawing desperately needed attention to a level of politics where so much of the attack on democracy is taking place, under the radar. Second, she’s bringing the voice of everyday people to an institution that too rarely hears that voice. And third, she’s bringing some measure of direct accountability to an otherwise gerrymandered and unaccountable world.
Rachel’s Takeaways
What Rachel told me she’s learned along the way is helpful to every American concerned about the state of our democracy:
First—“You are more POWERFUL than you think. Your voice is a lot louder than you think it is at the state legislature.”
Why?
Most statehouses rarely hear from everyday citizens. Rachel recalls her days as a staff member: “I saw how few people called our offices. Our phones would sit silent for hours. But I also saw how one person who got angry and called a lot could get something done, because so few people contacted us. And when people did make noise, they often got what they wanted.”
State legislative offices are far smaller than those in Congress— for the most part, one or two staff members answer calls, open emails, and check messages. A savvy advocate can get to know those staffers on an individual basis (Rachel’s advice—be polite), which can make them far more effective.
Then throw in the fact that these are politicians who rarely face opposition back home, or critical media coverage (if there’s coverage at all). Which means “they’re very uncomfortable with public pushback.”
Add it all up, and even as an individual advocate, YOU can make a difference when you advocate at the state legislative level. Make it an organized effort, even more so. “It doesn’t take many voices to have them feel like the whole state is calling.” Like they’ve stepped into something big. Something viral.
And for those of you who feel outnumbered in red districts, know that your voice carries special weight in state-level advocacy. Legislators from conservative areas don’t expect calls from their own districts. “They always tell themselves that all the pushback is from liberals from the big cities.” When you and your neighbors show up from a red district, you disrupt that comfort.
Second—“They don’t like the attention. So bring it to them.”
Done right, unwanted attention can kill bad bills.
Despite being outnumbered in the legislature, Rachel can point to numerous bills that died in part from powerful advocacy efforts.
Remember that awful Ohio bill from Chapter 5 requiring genital inspections of young athletes? Spirited advocacy and media scrutiny stirred up national headlines as the bill emerged from the House. So much so, state senators didn’t want to touch it, and it died. Numerous attacks on public education, along with book bans and right-wing school curriculum bills, have suffered similar fates, abandoned after loud protests and widespread, well-covered controversy.
Bills impacting the economic well-being of everyday Americans can also die quickly if exposed. One Ohio legislator—himself a landlord—introduced a bill allowing tenant evictions on weekends and holidays. Rachel and her team flagged it early, smartly labelled it “The Scrooge Act,” and defeated both attempts to get it passed—once in the House, once in the Senate.
But these moments don’t happen on their own. It takes energized, well-executed advocacy to push a controversial issue or bill into the public spotlight. Phone calls. In-person testimony. Press conferences. Rallies. Letters to the editor back in districts, then amplified on social media. Even direct citizen responses to legislators’ tweets, or comments on posts legislators make on social media (“they are very conscious of those”), can make a difference. Add it all up, and “they feel like the whole state is watching.” And that negative attention can make the difference.
One lesson: pushed to defend bad bills by the media, legislators (again, not used to criticism) often make things far worse when forced to defend their handiwork. A young Ohio legislator tried to defend her school curriculum bill by suggesting to a local reporter that “both sides” of the Holocaust would be taught— and the days of national scrutiny that followed killed that bill. A state senator tried to defend slashing rural broadband by saying Ohioans in rural areas didn’t know how to use computers. . . and that was the end of that bill.
Of course, Rachel and other advocates did what they could to make these blunders go viral, knowing every other legislator would see the scrutiny and run for cover. But to put them on defense in the first place takes proactive advocacy. Silence at the front end usually means there’s no story at all.
One of Rachel’s tips to doing all this well is that “early awareness is key.” So, keep an eye on committee agendas, and sign up to receive them automatically if your statehouse provides for that. The earlier you can frame an issue and start planning your response, the better.
Third—“If you don’t, someone else will”—Advocacy Shapes the Narrative
Savvy advocacy at the legislature—where the statewide press corps is camped out—can shape the broader narrative of the state, far beyond individual pieces of legislation. And if you’re not doing that narrative-shaping, Rachel warns, someone else will.
The pandemic provided a clear example of this. In early 2020, Ohio was cruising along with a bipartisan response to COVID, led by a Republican governor and a popular health director. Ohioans were glued to their television sets for daily briefings, paying close attention to every new health order and heeding advice on how to stay safe. Legislators were largely muted in their criticism of that proactive, science-driven response. Ohio—the people and its politicians—felt united.
Then one day in mid-April, seventy-five protesters rallied outside the statehouse, protesting masks. Footage of them angrily banging on statehouse doors and windows quickly went viral. Several more protests followed. At most, they numbered in the low hundreds. But they, too, generated coverage across the state. “It made it seem like the whole state was anti-mask when really, only a few dozen people originally showed up,” Rachel told me. “And then it became the whole narrative.”
And once that became the narrative, the politics and policy at the legislature flipped. Legislators pushed back hard on the governor, with some even threatening to impeach him. The governor’s tone changed, as did the strictness of his policies.
Soon, anti-vax, anti-mask hyper-ventilating predominated the statehouse conversation, and Ohio’s health director was protested—even threatened.
Ironically, a poll months after these protests showed that more than 60 percent of Ohioans still supported a mask mandate in the state.67 But that small group of protesters flipped the overall narrative and shaped all that followed.
The lesson is clear. Advocacy by even a small group of people can set the overall narrative on critical issues. This presents huge opportunities to shape the narrative through advocacy at statehouses. But also presents huge risks if you leave that shaping to an extreme minority, which is too often what happens today.
Fourth—“A lot of bills come from citizen ideas”
In addition to stopping bad bills, citizen advocacy can generate and support positive legislation that lifts people and advances mainstream values. In Ohio, citizen advocates don’t have to write bills directly—they can call the legislative office, suggest the idea, and that office can then request that a bill be drafted up. Citizen suggestions become law more often than people would think.
Fifth—“If you can’t stop the bad thing, you need to make them look bad while they’re doing the bad thing.”
Rachel’s trainings prepared attendees for disappointment. Terrible bills will pass despite loud voices speaking out against them. It happens far too often.
But even then, the advocacy work matters: “If you can’t stop the bad thing, you need to make them look bad while they’re doing the bad thing.”
Silence is their ally. It breeds the broader atmosphere of zero accountability and zero transparency. So even when extreme bills pass, loud opposition still makes a difference. In the state capital, and potentially back home. Even in defeat, advocates can shape the narrative.
Sixth—“You Aren’t Alone”
Advocacy through groups is uplifting for the advocates themselves. Especially if you feel outnumbered in a gerrymandered district, you realize that “you aren’t alone. There are thousands of people who agree with you.” And on so many issues, when you speak up at the statehouse, you are actually speaking for the majority of your state against a loud but vocal minority. You are performing invaluable public service by providing that voice.
Tip 1 from Chapter 7 was that the majority needs to stop getting bullied into thinking it’s in the minority. Collective and public advocacy is a key part of doing this.
If you are part of a political group at any level, or an institution involved in public issues, public service and/or advocacy at any level, add state legislative advocacy as an element of that work.
“Every single issue that these organizations care about is being impacted at the statehouse,” Rachel cautions. But many still aren’t focused there.
Then keep up with that legislative activity: “Have at least one person in the group or organization monitoring statehouse committees. Have that person report back to their organization at regular meetings.”
Then advocate whenever necessary.
