The astonishing blue tsunami that swept across the country in last week’s midterm elections was undeniable proof that democracy is still, overwhelmingly, the preferred form of government in the United States. It was a total repudiation of Trump and Trumpism. We didn’t just run the table; we ran the chairs, the plates, the glasses, and the silverware.
Our votes — cast not just against cruelty and corruption but for accountability and affordability — delivered the same message in every region of the country, providing herd immunity for the whole population. We should all be inoculated against MSMD (Mad Stephen Miller Disease), which had infected about 30 percent of U.S. adults for a decade. MSMD is a virulent strain of the cruelty-and-meanness virus once thought to have been eradicated in Germany in 1945. Fired CDC researchers reminded health departments across the country to stay vigilant, noting that mutations of the virus have survived in small pockets around the globe for decades.
Researchers are still puzzling over one unexpected development. Once enough people were inoculated against MSMD, a positive side effect emerged: a resurgence of healthy diversity, equity, and inclusion antibodies, which had been threatened with eradication since January 2025.
While President Trump wasn’t actually on the ballot, since he kept telling crowds at his sparsely attended rallies to “pretend I’m on the ballot,” everyone — Republicans, Democrats, independents — took him at his word. Although Trump insisted the devastating results weren’t “a hit on me,” the voters’ rebuke pierced his thin skin. Even handing the reins of government to Stephen Miller can’t protect a weakened, fragile 80-year-old from the self-inflicted wounds of hubris. Nor can he count on sycophants like outgoing House Speaker Mike Johnson to prescribe the placebo of a rubber-stamp Congress.
Every tsunami recedes. When the waters pulled back last Wednesday morning, those who came ashore resembled the inhabitants of Noah’s ark, except this time they didn’t come two by two. They came by the dozens, in every color and hue. They looked like America.
Here are some of those disembarking — people MAGA derided as “DEI hires.” Voters had another name for them: winners.
Keisha Lance Bottoms, governor-elect of Georgia, the first Black woman elected governor in U.S. history. New Mexico elected Deb Haaland, the first Native American woman to lead a state. (On election night, she reminded the country that Native people are still here, despite generations of federal efforts to erase their languages and cultures.) Minnesota is sending Peggy Flanagan, a citizen of the White Earth Band of Ojibwe, to Washington as the first Native American woman in the U.S. Senate. Michigan elected Abdul El-Sayed, the first Muslim American senator. Texas (yes, Texas) elected Gina Hinojosa, its first Latina governor, and sent James Talarico to the Senate, the first Democrat to win a Texas Senate race since 1988. While there is opposition to him, Hakeem Jeffries is on track to become the first Black Speaker of the House, picking up the gavel Mike Johnson just dropped.
In Genesis, the flood ends with a dove, an olive branch, a rainbow — and a promise that the earth can begin again. It’s hard to think of a better symbol for this election than a rainbow: every color distinct, all of them arched across the same sky. A new beginning.
As for “woke,” the word the right tried to weaponize as a slur: it turns out the country wasn’t woke as much as it was waking up. On the morning after the midterms, many of us woke up feeling something we hadn’t felt in a long time: joy.
Joy isn’t a luxury. It’s fuel, fuel we’ll need for the work ahead: rebuilding what was gutted, restoring what was erased, maybe even reviving USAID. All of this is work we can now do, standing on dry land.
Rob Okun (robokun50@gmail.com), a regular contributor, syndicated by PeaceVoice, is editor emeritus of Voice Male magazine, which has long chronicled the profeminist men’s movement. The magazine is now published by Next Gen Men. He lives in Amherst.
