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Yesterday was my mother’s birthday. It would have been her 80th.
One of the things I learned from my mother is that no obstacle is insurmountable. Her example is much of why I’ve always dreamed big.
We lost her to illness in 2016, just a few weeks before a federal election that—had the cancer not gotten her first—would have crushed her spirit.
I learned what that’s like four years later.
What I learned from my mom
My mother spent the months before she passed away glued to cable news and the political party conventions, raging at Trump while prematurely celebrating the first woman in the White House. Mercifully, she died at peace, surrounded by her loved ones.
Her spirit was thankfully spared the future that she never had to witness.
Her illness took her from us within months of her diagnosis, and forced me to grapple with mortality. Her path to finding peace in spite of it inspired “A Poem for Mom,” [ [link removed] ]which I shared with her before she passed.
The poem has brought me solace when contemplating (not only her, but also my own future) death, and I’ve had the privilege of sharing it with others mourning the passing of loves ones.
[An audio recording of me reading it appears at the very end of this message. It is accessible to paid subscribers.]
Ultimately, my mother’s transition beyond this life has felt like it brought us only closer together. When I cook, when I garden, when I dream, when I write, and whenever I teach, I feel her spirit moving through my hands.
One lesson I learned from my mother is that no obstacle is insurmountable. Her example is much of why I’ve always dreamed big.
She was not only a teacher, a gardener, an immigrant, a writer, and a grandmother, but also a visionary entrepreneur whose business ideas—including a novel approach to addressing indoor air pollution—emerged a generation before their time.
I take some inspiration from her ambitions, as well as her resilience in the face of her disappointments and frustrations. Her example makes the bitter pill of my neighbors’ ignorance easier to swallow, and reminds me of the timeless importance of vision, whether or not it is recognized in its own time.
The path she followed, the example she set, and the lessons my mother shared with me each inspire me to speak truth, whether or not anyone’s listening.
Following her lessons
While my mother was thankfully able to find peace before she passed away, I have found it unfortunately elusive in the time since then. My awareness of the future has always loomed too heavily for me to lose sight of it in the present. 
My own spirit—and faith in democracy—were crushed in 2020 by the corruption that I ran for office to confront.
My mother’s death was among the inspirations for my political campaigns. When I ran for office, my goal was to force change from within Congress favoring the values that she taught me to care about, like human rights, global peace, and the future that my nephews & nieces will inherit.
In 2020, with the support of 30,000 contributors and ultimately over 80,000 voters, I won the jungle primary in California’s 12th congressional district alongside the Speaker of the House, becoming the only Democrat since 1987 to offer San Francisco a choice in November.
I overcame the challenges facing immigrants and working people: I overcame being unhoused in the early 90s; earned my degree after a decade in night school; worked my way to the top of the national non-profit community over a 20 year legal career; and set a generational record running for office against an intergenerational oligarch.
Then, just over three months before the election—in the ironic midst of a mass uprising across the world calling out the racism that pervades America’s criminal injustice system—I become the target of a public character assassination [ [link removed] ] enabled by the institutional racism of journalists across the country. The San Francisco Bayview, a national Black newspaper, later described my experience as “a civic lynching [ [link removed] ]” witnessed by millions of people.
Every one of the many journalists who published disinformation about me between July and September 2020 betrayed their ethical commitments by silencing whistleblowers (including an elected Democratic Party official who stands among Black San Francisco’s most stalwart voices), indulging the lies of unapologetic climbers seeking career opportunities in the Democratic Party, and ultimately, insulated the continuing self-serving corruption of a warmongering, insider trading tycoon.
Democrats who claim to care about democracy, human rights, or climate justice have no answer for the documented [ [link removed] ] and continuing [ [link removed] ] role of their party in actively [ [link removed] ] undermining each of those values. They opportunistically reject the demagoguery of the GOP, while outrageously parroting [ [link removed] ] it in broad daylight, relying on the ignorance of voters—and complicity [ [link removed] ] of journalists—to get away with it.
Remaining unbowed
While my mother taught me to speak the truth whether anyone else is listening or not, I’m grateful that you have been—and that we’ve stood together. My attempts to challenge corruption through a formal public process may have proved unsuccessful, but by bringing tens of thousands of us together, our collaborations shifted national policy, exposed a suppressed critique of bipartisan corruption, and created a chance for us to keep informing and inspiring each other going forward.
I’m also grateful for many other things: the tools to bring people together not only through politics but also through music and dance, the opportunity to escape electoral politics and leave that quagmire to others, and the one arrow left in the proverbial quiver of my congressional campaigns.
Last week, we filed our amended complaint [ [link removed] ] in my continuing federal lawsuit against the San Francisco Chronicle [ [link removed] ]. The suit seeks accountability for the Chronicle’s malicious and reckless publication of racist election disinformation fabricated to insulate continuing corruption in Washington.
I’ll share more about the lawsuit—and how you can help support the racial justice, election integrity, and press accountability goals that it aims to advance—in a future message.
In the meantime, my next message will focus on a few creative projects, including some original music fusing documentary poetry, 4-on-the-floor house beats, and a rhyming analysis of international state violence and oppression.
Stay tuned!
Thank you for reading!
Getting off the political field has been a blessing. That transition has created space for me to further develop my creative voice, but leaves me no less committed to speaking truth to power, and no less grateful for all your help and support. Thanks for being part of my community!
Your friend,
Shahid
PS — Got any thoughts or concerns to share? Whether you want to address my poetry and music, my critique of bipartisan political corruption, or our lawsuit guarding election integrity from racist journalism, I’m eager to invite your ideas! Just reply to this email to reach me directly. I’m also happy to share upcoming events where we can connect in person if you’re in the Bay Area, or plan to visit Black Rock City at the end of this month.
PPS — Below (accessible to paid subscribers) is an audio recording of “A Poem for Mom [ [link removed] ].” Whether you’re mourning the loss of a loved one, or instead meditating on the fate we are all destined to share, I hope it might offer you some solace...

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