Senator Webb awarded by SUNY for dedication to equal opportunity

ALBANY, N.Y. (WIVT/WBGH) – Senator Lea Webb was recognized as an advocate for higher education during an award ceremony over the weekend.
Webb was honored with the Educational Opportunity Program (EOP) Champion Award during the 2nd Annual Alumni Reception at the New York State Association of Black, Puerto Rican, Hispanic & Asian Legislators Caucus Weekend.
The award was presented by the State University of New York's Office of Opportunity Programs. Webb was given the award for her dedication to the Educational Opportunity Program.
'As a member of the Senate's Higher Education Committee, I am deeply honored to receive the EOP Champion Award, especially as an EOP alumnus,' said Webb. 'This program gave me the opportunity to succeed and it's a privilege to give back by advocating for others who are pursuing higher education. I remain committed to ensuring that all students, particularly those from underserved communities, have access to the resources and support they need to achieve their dreams.'
During the event, distinguished alumni of the New York State Legislature were recognized for their contributions to higher education as they celebrated the future leaders of tomorrow.
Senator Webb awarded by SUNY for dedication to equal opportunity
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Politico

7 hours ago

• Politico

Why the New York Mayor's Race Matters

NEW YORK — How on earth are voters in America's largest city choosing between a 33-year-old socialist and a sex pest for mayor? OK, that's a bit unfair: Assemblymember Zohran Mamdani would be 34 by the time he'd be sworn in to lead New York City. But seriously, these are the choices Democrats here have before them when they go to the polls Tuesday in the most revealing primary election since the party's debacle last year. There's Mamdani, a proud member of the Democratic Socialists of America by way of a noted workers' paradise, Bowdoin, who's calling for city-owned grocery stores and offending the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum by trying to rationalize calls to 'globalize the intifada.' Then there's former Gov. Andrew Cuomo, who was forced out of office less than four years ago after multiple women accused him of sexual harassment, now says he regrets resigning and has expressed little contrition about his personal conduct or his deadly mishandling of Covid-19. Cuomo is despised by much of the city, including some of his biggest benefactors, and is the favorite to win. Oh, and if either Mamdani or Cuomo falls short in New York's ranked-choice Democratic primary, each already has secured a separate ballot line in the general election; if they win, they'll get to use it in addition to the Democratic party line, and if they lose, they'll still get the chance to run as independents. Neither ruled out remaining in the race when I asked them if they'd run on a third-party line this fall. Mayor Eric Adams, who avoided corruption charges after cozying up to the Trump administration in an apparent arrangement that would have some Philly ward bosses blush, will also be on the ballot on his own line. The Republican standard bearer is Guardian Angels leader Curtis Sliwa, who was wearing a red hat (beret, to be exact) before it was cool and is ageless in that Dick Clark sort of way. It doesn't quite portend a replay of John Lindsay jousting with Abe Beame and William F. Buckley Jr. in 1965. However, the outcome should not be minimized. Suburban moderate women with national security experience were handily nominated this month to lead the Democratic ticket in state races this year in Virginia and New Jersey, which may itself say something about the appetite of the party's primary voters. But in New York, there is a real internecine clash — and it carries profound implications. Can a young leftist appeal to the party's traditional base of older Black voters? Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez is watching. Has the backlash to so-called wokeness that sanitized Trump last year reached into Democratic ranks so voters will reluctantly vote for the S.O.B.-we-know? And would Cuomo take such support as a vote of confidence and quickly begin running for president himself in 2028? He repeatedly refused to rule out such a run when I asked him. This being New York, it's not exactly difficult to find voters exasperated with their choices or shy about articulating their frustrations. Including in front of the candidates themselves. Last Sunday afternoon, walking up a closed-to-traffic Columbus Avenue on the Upper West Side, I came across city comptroller Brad Lander, who's polling in third place in the mayor's race. Lander — an affable, middle-aged official fittingly called 'Dad Lander' by his 20-something daughter — was passing out his brochures to shoppers strolling through the streetside market. It was one of those great moments of municipal politics serendipity — running into a candidate in the wild — and I used the opportunity to ask Lander why New Yorkers were left with two options so many found wanting. 'What I'm doing is presenting an option which is neither of those,' Lander began before a voice beside us interjected. 'I wish you or Scott Stringer had actually run as a moderate Democrat instead of trying to be all things to all people,' said the voice, carrying an unmistakable New York accent and citing another lagging candidate. 'Because the last thing this country needs is the left wing of the party dragging us down again and electing people like Trump.' The voter's name was Robert, he wouldn't offer his last name, and he wasn't finished. 'If you'd actually run as a moderate, you'd be the top of my ticket,' he told Lander, explaining: 'I'd rather have an asshole than a progressive.' In what may have been one of the most dutiful and unnecessary follow-ups in my career, I confirmed that, yes, Robert did have Cuomo in mind when he cited 'an asshole.' Lander was patient, arguing that he doesn't think it's wishy-washy 'to want government to run better and to be ambitious about what it can deliver.' Robert became friendlier and presented a peace offering by way of vowing to still rank Lander. Then I asked Lander directly, well, are you a progressive or a moderate? 'See, he won't answer the question!' Robert butted in before Lander could even respond. The candidate called himself 'a pragmatic progressive,' which prompted Robert to walk away. The Upper West Sider said he was a committed Democrat and retired lawyer who also worked in IT and finance, but he was more interested in venting his frustrations than discussing himself. In short: He's 'really pissed off' at MAGA and progressives, the latter, he said, for paving Trump's return. Which gets to the heart of the frustration so many New Yorkers have, not just over this race but from the long shadow of 2024. Moderates believe the party's drift to the left on culture and identity doomed them last year, and progressives can't believe Democrats haven't learned from ceding populism to the right. Yet just as the party sleepwalked into Armageddon by not speaking up about Joe Biden sooner, New York Democrats find themselves with a stark choice today as much as through omission as commission. Most major institutions have either remained silent or enabled Cuomo's comeback. That starts with elected officials who disdain him, most significantly Gov. Kathy Hochul and Senators Chuck Schumer and Kirsten Gillibrand. The silence of Schumer, his party's Senate leader and a New York senator for more than a quarter-century, is particularly deafening. Imagine Harry Reid or Nancy Pelosi letting an old home-state rival waltz back to office. Organized labor, the closest thing that exists to New York's old Democratic machines, has also for the most part stayed out of the race or backed Cuomo. And then there's The New York Times editorial page, which has a proven record of influencing local elections. The dominant local daily initially declined to offer an endorsement. Instead, they empaneled a group of local citizens to offer their preferences — Lander was the most popular — and eventually ran an unsigned editorial denouncing Mamdani and urging New Yorkers not to rank him. To be fair, it has been difficult for any candidate to get much attention when so much of traditional and social media is drenched in national coverage and namely the return of another rampaging son of Queens. Perhaps the most important non-event took place before the campaign even got fully underway. That was when Trump won last year and Attorney General Letitia James decided not to run for mayor. James may never have ultimately entered the race, but multiple New York Democrats told me there was a backstage campaign to nudge her into the race. A Black woman from Brooklyn who ran the inquiry into Cuomo's sexual harassment, James would've been the obvious Stop Andrew candidate. 'If Tish James had run, it would have been no race — she would have won hands down,' the Rev. Al Sharpton told me. 'And I think that is why we ended up where we are.' Sharpton, speaking in the back of his National Action Network's Harlem headquarters just minutes after hosting Cuomo there, said: 'I would have wanted to see Tish James run.' With James out and Adams cutting his deal with Trump, Cuomo was emboldened. Some Democrats, including Hochul and most crucially James, cast about for an alternative and landed on City Council Speaker Adrienne Adams, also a Black woman. However, Adams got in late, had little name ID and wasn't able to raise much money. And by then, many New York Democrats knew, and feared, Cuomo well enough to jump on board with him or at least stay out of his way. 'The only people with 'rizz' are the anti-establishment socialists who can't win citywide,' complained Lis Smith, a Democratic strategist and still-deciding New York voter. It may be the largest city in the country, but the talent is either average, blocked by aging incumbents or simply happy to wait for a future gubernatorial or Senate run and avoid a job that not only may be the country's second-hardest but also ends rather than launches careers. Look no further than the last three former mayors — Rudy Giuliani, Michael Bloomberg and Bill de Blasio — and the current incumbent. The former mayors all ran for president and found about as much success as the Jets have in reaching the playoffs. And Adams called himself 'the future' and 'the face' of the Democratic Party upon winning in 2021, only to face federal charges three years later. The city's current mayor and the leading hopefuls to replace him converged earlier this month at the funeral for longtime Rep. Charlie Rangel, a homegoing that amounted to a state funeral in New York. The service was held in St. Patrick's, the city's grandest cathedral. Cardinal Timothy Dolan, New York's Archbishop, presided. Dignitaries filled the pews and took to the pulpit to remember the long-serving House member and 'Lion of Lenox Avenue,' who 'thought the 'H' in Heaven stood for Harlem,' as one of his eulogists said. It was a grand mix of the Black church and the Catholic church, and it was exquisitely timed in the political calendar in a way I think Rangel would have loved. 'What a scene!' he may have said in that gravelly, 'New Yawk' voice, eyes twinkling and bow tie knotted smartly. The mayoral candidates played to type. Adams arrived at the front of the church, with most people already seated, at 9:54 for a 9:45 service. He's only the second Black mayor in the city's history, but he didn't speak and was scarcely mentioned, fitting for someone who's become a non-person in the minds of political New York. Mamdani zipped around the pews before the service, offering a hand to people he recognized, being greeted by some he didn't and generally playing the role of both outsider and young man in a hurry. He sat behind a massive marble pillar that had a wheelchair stuffed between it and the pew, 11 rows back from the front of the sanctuary. Cuomo sat in the fourth row and acted as though he were still in high office. He chatted with Nancy Pelosi, an old family friend, before the service and visited with other current and former officials, but notably avoided his former nemesis, de Blasio, who was inches away. When Mamdani finally mustered the courage to walk to the front rows and greet the VIPs before the service, none stood except for de Blasio. It was great theater, an allegory for the campaign, but the politicking in such an august setting was also something else: a reminder that there's always been a thin line separating the hacks and the statesmen of New York. The Roosevelts didn't have clean hands when it came to Tammany Hall, and their highbrow heirs also did what it took to win. One of my favorite New York artifacts is the letter an on-the-make professor named Daniel Patrick Moynihan wrote to Tammany boss Carmine De Sapio in 1971. Addressing his note to De Sapio in the 'United States Prison Facility' of Allendale, Pennsylvania, Moynihan recalls his 11th Avenue upbringing ('George Washington Plunkitt's old district'), laments that De Sapio was denied parole and offers regret that he 'never got to know you fellows very well' before assuring the boss that he has 'a friend on the Harvard faculty.' It's redolent of reformers and regulars, the 20th century New York of the 'Three Is' — when Democrats would strive to nominate a ticket that could reflect Ireland, Italy and Israel. But for Cuomo, the past is never dead — it's not even past. Speaking to closely huddled reporters avoiding a summer drizzle outside of Sharpton's Harlem headquarters, Cuomo reminded a young journalist that he had worked on his father's losing mayoral race, a formative campaign in the life of both Cuomos. He had been asked about the biggest surprise in this contest. 'Nothing,' he said with a shrug. 'My father ran for mayor before you were born, 1977,' Cuomo recalled, boasting: 'I know this city like the back of my hand.' Cuomo has long lived in the suburbs and, as governor, in Albany, and he's sensitive about criticisms over his residency. Which may be part of the reason he insists on driving himself around the city in a black Dodge Charger. Yet I didn't think about it again until the following day, which happened to be both Father's Day and what would have been Mario Cuomo's 93rd birthday. Andrew was at his second Black church of the day, and this one was in Jamaica, Queens, his father's hometown. Speaking during the service, and at another one in Brooklyn earlier in the morning, Cuomo said matter-of-factly that he still talks to his deceased father, and in fact his father talks back, and at times they argue. So when I caught up with Cuomo in Queens, I asked what his father would think of his candidacy today. 'Oh, he would think it's exactly right,' said the younger Cuomo. Then he was off to the races in ways that made clear he, too, was still consumed by 2024 and was interested in leading his party's recovery. 'Donald Trump, we lost to Donald Trump, 500,000 fewer Democrats turned out' in New York, he said by way of explaining why his dad would approve of his bid. The party, Cuomo said, had lost too much of its working-class base. ''What are you going to do for me?' It has to be real, it has to be tangible,' he said, articulating what those voters expect and arguing he fits the bill because of his record of results. A record, he argued, which includes his performance on Covid-19. Cuomo said the idea that his effort on the pandemic is a blemish is '100 percent wrong' and called the coverage of deaths in nursing homes 'all created for New York Post readers.' He was full of swagger, even insisting on going off the record a couple of times as though he was still in Albany telephoning the tabloids to steer their coverage. The previous night, at a rally in Manhattan, Ocasio-Cortez had said Cuomo was only running for mayor to run for president in 2028. What say you, I asked. 'I'm doing this for this,' he said of the mayor's race. He then talked about the importance of focusing on the here and now, but in the process unfurled his resume, recalling his service as HUD secretary and even claiming, without mentioning the election, that he had been 'on the short list for vice-president.' Sounding like a Queens Sun Tzu, Cuomo said: 'If you are watching the step ahead, you'll trip on this step, I believe that.' It was all a non-answer that pointed at his obvious ambition, quest for redemption and, perhaps, the chance to succeed at what his father never dared to try. 'You think you're going to get a different answer?' when I tried once more. 'You think this is my first rodeo?' I was reminded that it's very much not a bit later, after Cuomo was reunited with all three of his daughters that Father's Day Sunday. They stood behind him outside the church in Queens, and their dad's mood brightened with their presence as he addressed a handful of reporters and photographers. Were they happy he was back in the political fray, I asked? Each of them took their turn speaking with pride about their father, and Cuomo beamed. He also recognized something else: This was a moment that should be captured. He gestured to an aide, but the staffer didn't initially get the message. So the aide walked over to the former governor as the girls spoke. The staffer leaned in and Cuomo whispered: 'Film it.' Forty-eight years later, he still thought like the operative he had been on his dad's mayoral campaign. I should talk a bit about the state of the city. This is one of those moments when perception is at odds with the statistics. As with so many American cities, New York has entered what I call the post-post-Covid moment. While it didn't suffer the spike in carjackings as other parts of the country did — the city's geographic and population density is a natural prophylactic — New York had its troubles during and immediately after the pandemic. There were abhorrent crimes on the subway and there are still nuisance matters, such as the toothpaste and shampoo being behind a locked window at the drugstore. Still, Adams is going to preside over a historic plunge in violent crime. The first five months of this year brought the lowest number of shootings and homicides in recorded New York City history. There's a noticeably increased police presence, particularly on the subways, where Hochul has state authority and intervened. Coming out of the Washington Square station one afternoon this month, I counted six uniformed city cops underground. Much of Manhattan feels like a summer playground, downtown for those under 40 (or under 40 at heart) and the Upper East and West sides for those middle-aged (or still so at heart). 'As for people who are like, 'the city is crumbling,' try getting into a restaurant,' de Blasio told me over a pesto bagel near his Brooklyn home. And yet the most recent Marist survey of the city's voters found that 77 percent believed New York is headed in the wrong direction. Part of that can be attributed to embarrassment over Adams' saga in addition to lingering quality-of-life concerns, less fear of being shot and more unease with the mentally ill homeless person muttering to you. Recalling what police commissioner Bill Bratton once told him, de Blasio said: 'We have to separate crime and order, but the public doesn't.' However, the city's discontents also center on something else, which has been the heartbeat of Mamdani's campaign — affordability. For all his nifty videos and quick-on-the-draw wit, Mamdani wouldn't be giving Cuomo such a race had the assemblymember not harnessed such a galvanizing issue. His calls for a rent freeze and broader lament about the costs of living in New York are what vaulted him into contention and have made him a progressive phenomenon, particularly with young voters. 'Mamdani understood that he was never going to own the crime issue. He was for defund, but he could own affordability, and that's where he planted his flag early,' said Howard Wolfson, a longtime Bloomberg adviser and shrewd student of the city's politics. 'And as crime has come down, the issue of affordability has risen and it turns out it was the smart play.' Odd as it may sound, affordability was a luxury issue that became more resonant once people feared less for their personal safety. In the weeks leading up to the mayoral primary, one could be forgiven for thinking that Mamdani was the only candidate in the race, at least away from a TV set where Cuomo and his allies are carpet-bombing their young rival. To walk around the city is to see mostly Mamdani signs, pamphlets and canvassers. Strolling from Sharpton's 145th St. office 35 blocks down to Central Park North, I ran into three sets of Mamdani volunteers, all of them clearly under 50. Along the way, I popped into the Frederick E. Samuel Community Democratic Club, one of Harlem's old Black clubhouses, and the conversation quickly turned to Mamdani's appeal with young voters. Maurice Cummings, who's an aide to a Democratic assemblymember, recalled a recent gathering Mamdani had in Harlem. 'The thing that I find interesting is that he's crossing racial lines, the place was filled with Black, white, Indian, Puerto Rican,' said Cummings, who's 52. 'I would probably have been one of the oldest folks there.' I caught a glimpse of this dynamic on the corner of 155th and Broadway in Washington Heights, where Mamdani held a press conference on Father's Day afternoon. While he addressed the cameras, a small group of New Yorkers reflecting his base gathered to greet him and offer their support. There was the post-collegiate white guy, still wearing his backpack with a Notre Dame logo, a trans person thanking him for supporting trans rights, a fellow graduate of the Bronx High School of Science and a young Jewish voter lamenting the line of questioning Mamdani, who's Muslim, had received on Jewish-related issues. What there wasn't was any older Black people (except for the one who drove by, leaned out the window and told Mamdani to take his campaign 'to the projects'). It was a similar demographic the previous night, when Mamdani held a packed rally at an event space in one of Manhattan's old piers. One of the loudest cheers of the night was when a city councilor called to 'Free Palestine,' electrifying an audience more bougie than Bronx. The only Black people there over 40 I could find were working security. Walking with Mamdani down Broadway after his press conference the next day, I asked how he could avoid the fate of other progressive candidates in Democratic primaries who couldn't expand their coalition beyond young and non-Black voters. He said he was heartened by how far he had come — he had been in two Black churches himself that morning — but it was easy to pick up traces of wishing he had more time. 'One of the greatest challenges has been having to introduce myself, because when we started this race, one percent of New Yorkers knew who I was,' Mamdani told me, adding that he believes his affordability message 'resonates' but 'the question is whether we can share it with as many people as possible.' As with Cuomo, though for far less time, Mamdani worked in politics a bit before taking the plunge himself as a candidate. So for all his progressive proposals, there's also a hunger to win and an inevitable tension between principle and politics. Some of Mamdani's own advisers are eager for him to assure more moderate New Yorkers that he won't revert to his defund-the-police calls from the Black Lives Matter era. The easiest way to do that would be to signal he'd retain Jessica Tisch, the popular police commissioner, heiress and good news story of the otherwise cringey Adams administration. 'I would consider doing so,' he said, praising Tisch's efforts to root out corruption. Mamdani wouldn't go any further, though, saying 'these conversations are ones that I will engage in after the primary.' Of course, that may be too late. He had said at his rally the night before that 'the days of moral victories are over,' but Mamdani is self-aware enough to know how far he's come in his first citywide race — and that this won't be his last campaign. 'As a Muslim democratic socialist, I am no stranger to bad PR,' he joked. And after I asked him about the three rings he wears and wondered where he was hiding his Bowdoin class ring, he shot back: 'That's for the re-elect.'

San Francisco Chronicle​

8 hours ago

• San Francisco Chronicle​

Newsom challenges JD Vance to debate after he calls Sen. Alex Padilla ‘Jose'

Gov. Gavin Newsom challenged Vice President JD Vance to a debate after Vance attacked the governor and maligned Sen. Alex Padilla, referring to him by 'Jose,' during a press conference in Los Angeles Friday. Vance, who was in the city to meet with federal officials after weeks of protests of immigration raids and detentions, repeatedly slammed Newsom and Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass during the press conference for their stances on immigration and pushback against the administration of President Donald Trump ordering the National Guard and U.S. Marines into the city. When asked about the Trump administration cracking down on Democrats, Vance referenced Padilla's detention in handcuffs last Thursday. 'I was hoping Jose Padilla would be here to ask a question. But unfortunately I guess he decided to not show up because there wasn't the theater,' Vance said. 'It's pure political theater.' Padilla, who is California's first Hispanic senator, was forcibly removed from Homeland Security Secretary Kristi Noem's press conference last week after identifying himself as a senator asking a question — though she later claimed she did not know he was a senator — and was handcuffed before being released. 'JD Vance served with Alex Padilla in the United States Senate. Calling him 'Jose Padilla' is not an accident,' Newsom wrote. The Associated Press reported that Taylor Van Kirk, a JD Vance spokesperson, responded by saying of Vance: 'He must have mixed up two people who have broken the law.' Newsom also posted to Vance that it was 'nice of you to finally make it out to California.' 'Since you're so eager to talk about me, how about saying it to my face? Let's debate. Time and place?' Newsom wrote. The governor's press office X account also responded Friday evening, posting an altered photo of Vance at the press conference with a cartoonish version of his face and saying: 'Donald, you should send @JDVance out to California more often. He's absolutely crushing it!' Vance claimed Newsom and Bass 'actively encouraged illegal migration into this community, have strained public services, have strained law enforcement and, really, have offered generous benefits, not to American citizens, but to illegal immigrants to break the law.' Vance also claimed Newsom and Bass 'egged on' violent 'rioters' including encouraging them to harm federal and local law enforcement, which he called 'disgraceful.' Vance said during the press conference that National Guard and military members will stay in the city in case protests 'flare back up.' 'These people need to be stopped,' Vance said of demonstrators. Staff writer Tara Duggan contributed reporting.

Miami Herald

8 hours ago

• Miami Herald

Florida Democrats look to stop the bleeding during annual political conference

A question loomed over Democratic party leaders and volunteers on Saturday as they pumped hip hop through the speakers at the Seminole Hard Rock Hotel and Casino Hollywood: can Florida Democrats find a way to win next election season? Democrats in Florida have faced stinging losses on the ballot, especially over the past six years. Some point to fundraising issues as the cause. Others point to shrinking voter registration numbers. At Leadership Blue, an annual Democratic conference, several elected officials and party leaders agreed on one thing: they have a messaging problem, and President Donald Trump might help them solve it. Democrats mentioned immigration, tariffs and potential cuts to healthcare as issues that have caused division in Florida districts that voted Republican. Deportations in South Florida were central to the discussion, with issues like revoking Temporary Protected Status, instating travel bans and targeting immigrants who have not committed crimes roiling Hispanic communities. 'I think what's happening from the federal government being compounded by the state government, in terms of immigration, gives us an opening,' said Samuel Vilchez Santiago, chairman of the Orange County Democrats. Last year, Trump and Florida Republicans put a message out that they were for the working class, said Santiago, who is Venezuelan-American. He said Hispanic communities in Florida, many of which helped the Republican Party win competitive districts in Miami-Dade County, believed Trump would deliver on promises to lower the cost of living. But Democrats say Trump has failed to deliver, and they plan to take advantage of it. Those unfulfilled promises, combined with growing negative sentiment toward immigration enforcement, may give them an edge during next year's midterms, Santiago said. Kentucky Gov. Andy Beshear, who paid a visit to Leadership Blue, felt the same. Beshear, a Democratic governor in a red state, thinks Florida Democrats have a way to portray themselves as people that can bring change. 'What you'll start seeing is people who don't just feel regret, but they feel betrayal,' Beshear said, speaking about Trump's campaign promises. 'Because someone who told them they were focused on them is now telling them their kids have too many toys.' As a whole, though, some admit they could have done better with reaching out this past election cycle. Millie Herrera, a longtime Democrat and part of the party's budget and finance committee, thinks the party could improve in reaching out to every Hispanic community in Florida. Herrera, who is Cuban-American, thinks it's time to organize locally and year-round, rather than just during election season. In her Hialeah community where she runs a small business, she said she often hears Hispanic people say that Trump had promised to only deport criminals. The Democrats knew that wasn't true, she said, but failed to communicate that. This time, she is confident they will do better. 'We have always been for working people,' Herrera said. 'We have always been for immigrant communities. Maybe what we need to concentrate in our message is reminding them who has been there for us.' Present at Leadership Blue and handing out blue jolly ranchers to attendees, David Jolly, the former Republican congressman who announced his run for governor of Florida as a Democrat on June 5, said Florida is ready for a change and ready to build a coalition that leads with democratic values. While previously acknowledging Democrats have failed voters in the past, Jolly is hopeful Florida is ready for a change: A Democrat governor. 'This is a Democratic party that is united, and united to win,' Jolly said. Recent ups and downs Wins have been hard to come by for Florida Democrats. In April, Democrats witnessed defeats in two special elections for Florida congressional seats despite creating a stir by outraising Republican candidates. But even in defeat, Democrats celebrated because they outdid their previous numbers in both districts, viewed as deep-red and won in November by Trump by over 30 points. Josh Weil and Gay Valimont, running to representdistricts on the eastern coast of Florida and Pensacola, respectively, narrowed the gap to under 20 points each in their races. At the time, Republican Party of Florida Chairman Evan Power likened the Democrats' campaigns to 'setting millions of dollars on fire.' But Democrats see it differently. Because they overperformed, Santiago said, it's a sign that grassroots fundraising is the right path for the party. Weil raised around $15 million, with the majority of it coming from donations that were $200 or less. Weil, who launched his campaign for the U.S. Senate last week, said the last couple of years have been tough. As a public school teacher and single father navigating the rising costs of living, he said Floridians are unsatisfied. 'People are really disappointed in what they have right now, particularly in our red districts here in Florida,' Weil said. But becoming competitive again in Florida will be a challenge. Florida Democrats have increasingly lost ground in a state that was once considered purple. Over the past six years, Republicans have won by wider and wider margins in elections for both state and national office. The 2018 midterms were the last to deliver something resembling success for the Florida Democrats. They gained two Congressional seats, seven Florida Legislature seats and one statewide seat — with current party Chairwoman Nikki Fried winning the race for commissioner of agriculture. Since then, Republicans have surged in the state, securing super-majorities in the Florida Legislature, expanding GOP dominance in the Florida congressional delegation and ending the days when Florida was known as the nation's largest swing state. Trump and Gov. Ron DeSantis — who likes to compare the Florida Democratic Party to roadkill — both won their most recent races in the state by double digits. In November, Miami-Dade County voted Republican for the first time in a presidential election since 1988. Alongside Miami-Dade, other left-leaning metro areas in the state swung red as well: Hillsborough County, Pinellas County, Duval County and Osceola County. Pouring salt on the wound, state Sen. Jason Pizzo, who served as the Senate Democratic leader in the Florida Legislature, told his colleagues earlier this year that he was changing his party affiliation, saying the Democratic Party is 'dead' in Florida. Pizzo now says he'll run for governor as an independent candidate. Still, Fried — who said Pizzo's resignation as party leader was 'one of the best things to happen to the party in years' — said Democrats in Florida are united and the party's message is succinct. She said she wants people to know that the Democrats are not giving up on them. Despite disdain or criticism from former members of the party, Fried said the party embraces a culture of respect where everyone is welcome, feels seen, is listened to and has a say. 'We talk with one voice, and we really have created a coalition in our state that people feel like you don't have to always agree with everybody inside the party,' Fried said. 'That's what the benefit of being a Democrat is — we are a big tent, which means there's going to be different sides of the spectrum.'