I'm up for "Best Activist" in Austin
Here's who I'm voting for instead of myself
On May 8 when the first round of results from the Austin Chronicle’s “Best of Austin” readers poll came out and I saw my name as a finalist for “Best Activist,” I gasped in genuine shock. Hours before the nomination deadline, I had made a half-hearted suggestion via my Instagram stories that maybe folks could nominate me as a best “Media & Politics Wildcard” because I feel like Democrasexy is nothing if not a wildcard.
So when I saw my name instead under the “Activist” category, I felt several competing surges — validation (wow, maybe deciding to become a full-time activist wasn’t the stupidest decision I ever made after all), imposter syndrome (this must be a mistake! am I even a REAL activist??), gratitude (I feel so seen and acknowledged by my community), astonishment (I can’t believe so many people nominated me that I’m a *finalist*!).
I also felt a little weird, because activism is never about one single person. It’s about many of us coming together for collective action, standing in solidarity with those who are most marginalized. Over the past week and a half since nominations came out, I haven’t been able to bring myself to encourage people to vote for me.
In fact, I’ve decided to not even vote for myself.
Though everyone on this list is incredible in their own right and absolutely deserving of their flowers, there is one person I’m personally feeling moved to vote for.
When I got involved in local organizing as a precinct chair with the Travis County Democratic Party back in 2017, I saw for the first time the politics behind the politics. That is, the way some folks maneuvering through the party system were making calculations and alliances and moves with their own political aspirations in mind. I decided right away that if ever I started to notice that I was putting my own self-interest above the greater good of my community, then it was time for me to get out of politics. I never wanted to validate the cynics’ view that everyone involved in our political systems is a “bad” “self-centered” “disgusting” “corrupt” “sh-t.” (And by the way the majority of America is politically cynical.)
Luckily, there was one fellow precinct chair who quickly became a role model to me. No matter how hot others’ tempers flared, no matter which big-named political icon was pressuring us to vote a certain way on a thing, no matter how frequently within the same meeting someone misgendered them, Ash Hall was ALWAYS the calmest energy in the room.
If Ash was sharing an opinion, I could be 100% certain that it was deeply considered, had taken into account inequities in the system, was focused on long-term outcomes, and was completely selfless. If ever there were an instance when I was tempted to take a different stance than Ash, I knew I probably had some soul-searching to do. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who was gut-checking with Ash on the regular.
I’m no longer a precinct chair so I don’t work with Ash in that capacity anymore, but they remain my north star for how I want to operate in the world of politics and advocacy and activism. I live by a total “WWAD” ethos — “what would Ash do?”
As I see it, one of the most difficult battles there is right now is the fight to change the system from within the system, specifically within the Democratic Party. Ash serves on the State Democratic Executive Committee, which is the body that guides the state Democratic Party and carries out party business. As an openly trans person who’s given selflessly to push the state party forward for YEARS, I can only imagine the pain of having the leader of that party throw your community under the bus, which is what happened after the 2024 election.
Nevertheless, Ash persists.
Ash is also the policy and advocacy strategist on LGBTQIA+ rights for the ACLU of Texas, and I have literally never been to the Capitol without running into Ash there. This past week when I ran into them outside the Texas Senate where we were waiting for some bad bills to be heard, I complimented their adorable coyote bolo tie. Ash said that bolo tie comes out when they are testifying against bills that would hurt trans kids — they want to send a signal to the kids that there’s someone in that room who’s in their corner. I’m sure this wasn’t the first time Ash made me cry tender tears.
There are a lot of differences between my experiences inside the Texas Capitol and Ash’s experiences in that building — for one, I’m sure I’ve only clocked a fraction of the number of hours they’ve spent there. But more importantly, Ash is walking into that building day after day to make an argument for their own valid existence as a trans person to a bunch of people who are trying to legislate that existence away.
Nevertheless, Ash exists.
Ash Hall is my hero, my north star, and my friend. I hope you’ll vote for Ash Hall for Best Activist in Austin. The deadline is 11:59pm on Monday, May 19.
P.S. A GIANT THANK YOU to everyone who told me they already voted for me. It honestly means more than you know to have that validation from you. Please know that my endorsement of Ash is not meant to diminish my gratitude for those of you who’ve supported me AT ALL!
P.P.S There are SO MANY incredible folks nominated in all the categories, I wish I had time to write a flowery endorsement post for each of them. Go vote in all the categories here!
Sorry to say that I just voted for YOU!