Hot Earnestness Summer

On Zohran Mamdani and how I bet your neighbors would love to build something together

I’m very much a Zohran Mamdani fan, though this essay isn’t really about him. As much as I (as a son of Flyover Country) try not to calibrate my emotions too closely to the ebbs and flows of NYC, boy howdy did Mamdani’s surprise victory in the New York Democratic Mayoral Primary get me hyped. I almost called my corner store a bodega in tribute. That’s how you know it’s for real. New York, for at least one night, I loved you and you did not bring me down.

I’m not here to convince you to share my fervency. Maybe you’re not a Mamdani fan. Maybe you don’t agree with his politics— you don’t swing as far left as he and I do, or you worry that he doesn’t have the experience necessary to lead a global hub.¹ Maybe you’re cynical about the capacity for any big city mayor to delight rather than disappoint, given the clear constraints of the job (placating developers and cops, it would seem). And listen. You very well might be right about the guy. I might have stars in my eyes. I’m a true romantic, and therefore frequently wrong.

But even if you are a Mamdani skeptic, I hope that you still paid attention to what happened in New York these past few months.

You all, 33-year-old Muslim Socialist State Assemblymen don’t typically beat all-comers in a crowded, high profile Democratic primary. They definitely don’t defeat the prohibitive front runner— not when the opponent in question is a former Governor with one of the most recognizable names in New York State, all the Super PAC money in the world, and a whole slate of individual and organizational endorsements.

And yes, Andrew Cuomo was “scandal ridden,” as they say (a term simultaneously accurate and euphemistic). Yes, no doubt, plenty of Mamdani’s votes were against Cuomo as much as they were for free MTA buses. That’s good news, by the way, and immense credit is due to the thirteen survivors and activists, especially Lindsey Boylan, who refused to abide by Cuomo’s attempts to push a history of predation under the rug.

But the fact remains. The narrative, since November, has been that sexual harassment accusations (to say nothing of criminal levels of Covid mismanagement) are no longer an electoral liability, not if you possess an inflated reputation as a strongman who stands on business. How many think pieces have been foisted on us since the general election about how New Yorkers slouched towards MAGAland in 2024? Trump is the ultimate bully, and he won, so it only follows that a bully like Cuomo would be NYC’s choice to meet this Trumpian moment. The devil you know, as they say.

Mamdani’s victory was absolutely remarkable. And I hope that it is not solely celebrated by people like me— millennial socialists who pay too much attention to politics. Because as much as it sounds like acceptance speech pablum, the lesson of this moment isn’t about one candidate. Again, speaking personally, I hope Mamdani wins the general election. Even more than that, I hope he’s an incredible mayor for New Yorkers. Gotham friends, you deserve a non-embarrassing mayor. Holy cow do you ever.

But let’s say that Zohran isn’t the hero New York deserves. Even then, he’s already given us a tremendous gift. The lesson of his campaign lives in 40,000 volunteers knocking on a million doors. On whose behalf? A relative political neophyte with a limited track record in Albany. Again, that doesn’t just happen.

How did it, then? Was it because, this past November, thousands of MAGA-scarred New Yorkers all simultaneously woke up and said “we will lie down in front of a potentially free bus for Zohran Mamdani specifically?”

Of course not.

It happened because the candidate and his campaign recognized, quite correctly, that so many New Yorkers (and so many more of us across the country) weren’t ready to accept the message of preemptive despair being delivered from so many bully pulpits.

Oh jeez, the drum beats were so loud. And dour. We were told that we weren’t allowed to feel political hope or optimism anymore. Those feelings belonged to a pre-Covid, pre-George Floyd moment. Did you hear about the vibe shift? Everybody was talking about the vibe shift. Empathy was cringe now. “The Resistance” was an embarrassing relic. Wokeness was dead. The only choices available to us now were fear, triangulation and podcasts where tough guys say the r-word. Somebody, we were lectured, needed to be thrown under the bus.

The funny thing about stress, anxiety and capitulation is that it isn’t motivating, actually. Cynicism is such a cool pose, but so empty. We all know the truth behind it, right? That it’s just a mask for fear, that it takes a real strength and confidence to be vulnerable, to be sappy, to be earnest.

There’s such freedom in earnestness, you all. When we see it in the wild, we might scoff at first, but eventually we too are tempted to let our guard down. If another human being can present like that—so nakedly, so guilelessly— perhaps we too can drop the icy front. No matter how much we pretend not to, we all dream, deep down, of a hot earnestness summer. What’s cooler than being cool? Hosting a potluck.

Returning to Zohran, my God, what a heart on its sleeve campaign. I mean, come on.

I could have picked a million videos like this. What a joyous, goofy sapball of a candidate. Is it any surprise that he formed a political alliance with Brad Lander— a young Muslim activist clasping hands with a veteran Jewish leader at a time when those identities are often pitted in opposition to one another? Have you ever listened to Brad Lander? Bleeding hearts unite.

Perhaps the best bud Zohran thing is an act (I’m told, by people who know Mamdani well, that it isn’t, but still— politics is theater, and you don’t win in New York without learning to play your part). Even if so, it's notable that it worked, that so many have been energized by a politician who exudes such clear “hey kids, turn those frowns upside down… let’s put on a show!” energy.

Because that’s the difference, you see. It’s not just that my guy smiled a bunch and oozed Sophomore dorm RA charisma. It’s the message underneath the sappy visage. Mamdani has been criticized for the simplicity and pithiness of his big ideas, but they had an internal consistency. He didn’t wish casting random fantasies. He talked about community-centered infrastructure and collective care. Free buses. Child care. Rent freezes. City-run grocery stores. His promise, essentially, was “we’re going to build something great for the city.” And his ask? Please meet your neighbors, in real life, and spread the word. You do your part, he’ll do his, and maybe, together, something magical will come from all the trying.

My friends, that’s it. That’s the gift. The political victory that nobody saw coming occurred because a political upstart helped a critical mass of New Yorkers look out at their atomized and austeried-to-death city and imagine it as a web of interconnection.

We aren’t victims of Trump, the candidate said. We can care for each other and dream big and grin goofy grins and meet each other in the streets and, no really, we really will pull off this show! Believe!

Wherever you live, and whatever your politics, I have a hunch that both you and your neighbors would like to feel something other than despair right now. It feels audacious to knock on a stranger’s door and say “hey, come to a potluck” or “did you know we’re trying to stop the poison plant next door?” or “I’m running for office, and I’d like to hear what’s on your mind.” Lord knows I don’t possess a magic set of words to make doing so any less scary. I bet you wish somebody would do it for you. Somebody bolder. Somebody braver. Somebody with a deeper wellspring of optimism.

All I can say, in response, is that somebody around you would love to feel some hope. They’d like an invitation. And they’ll forgive you if you’re not perfect, or you don’t know what you’re doing. They don’t need a savior. They just want to feel something, to create something, to share something. They’re not waiting for Zohran. They’re waiting for you.

End notes:

1. Would you like to learn how to build something with your neighbors? I offer free trainings on that. And though I’m midway through my current Barnraisers classes (they’re going great, by the way— if any of the current crew is reading this you’re the best), I’ll announce the next cycle soon. The interest list is here, if you’re, well, interested.

2. I can only offer free trainings (and write these newsletters) because of the support of paid subscribers. I know that I say this every week, but if I didn’t keep asking I wouldn’t be able to make a living wage doing this work. Thanks for putting your hand in and being part of the community that keeps this space going.

3. Electoral politics isn’t everything, but it can be a really cool way of bringing your community together. A few groups I respect that can give you a hand if you’re interested include Run For Something (for younger candidates), the Democratic Socialists of America (if that’s how you lean) and Dirtroad Organizing (for rural pals).

4. Song of the week! Let’s do this. There are so many New York anthems, but is this the most big grinning, heart-on-your-sleeve one of the bunch? For my money, hell yeah. We’re back. So back. Where? In the New York Groove.

   The full song of the week playlist is on Apple Music and Spotify.

5. An important message here:

1. I also want to acknowledge that, over the course of the campaign, there were frequent insinuations (including ones by Cuomo allies that veered dangerously Islamophobic) that Mamdani’s criticisms of Israel constitute antisemitism. Now, personally, I worry deeply about rhetoric that automatically conflates the two, particularly during a time when antisemitism is legitimately on the rise. But I also recognize the limits of how I experience this debate as a non-Jewish person. I’ve been compelled, though, by coverage from Jewish publications like Forward about Mamdani’s active outreach to New York’s diverse Jewish communities, as well as the personal statements of both Jewish supporters of his candidacy as well as organizers- such as Jews For Racial and Economic Justice- whom I respect deeply.

Update: I also found this essay (by the always incredible Bess Kalb ) is a masterwork of vulnerability and empathy-building. Whether you’re Jewish or not, I promise you’ll feel welcomed, with grace and generosity, into a wise, complicated heart.