In 2015, I was working for a labor union and as an LGBTQ+ rights advocate in New York City. On June 26 of that year, I celebrated with friends and colleagues in front of the historic Stonewall Inn as the Supreme Court’s marriage decision was announced.
We were overjoyed to the point of tears at the reality of this decision: we could finally marry the person we loved. We knew this was the first step towards full equity for our community.
If you are an LGBTQ+ person or ally, you remember where you were the day marriage was decided by the Supreme Court. You remember the elation. The desperately needed recognition from our nation’s highest court that we were seen as equals under the law.
In the months that followed, we witnessed greater achievements for our community. The momentum of change was building – and then it was abruptly halted and reversed by the election of Donald Trump and an anti-LGBTQ+ Republican House and Senate majority.
In the months that followed, we quickly saw the appointment of anti-LGBTQ+ Supreme Court justices, rights stripped from LGBTQ+ students, the erasure of LGBTQ+ history and more. I was moved to join our fight for justice back home.
In early 2017, I returned to Tampa Bay. Despite all odds, the LGBTQ+ community here was alive, thriving and growing. St. Petersburg has held the title as one of the largest Pride celebrations in the country. Several additional cities in the area also had perfect scores for equality from the Human Rights Campaign.
It was also clear many local elected leaders were actively working to make our cities even more inclusive. There was hope. Yet, it was readily apparent that our fight was far from over.
In the years that followed, voter turnout dipped and murmurs began: extremists in office were coming for our lives. In Florida, the attack on LGBTQ+ people, specifically children, reached its tipping point this past legislative session in Tallahassee.
This year, amidst a housing crisis, small businesses reeling from the effects of the pandemic, poorly paid educators leaving our public schools, and other issues, Ron DeSantis and the Republican-led legislature decided it was more timely to focus on passing legislation that discriminated against the LGBTQ+ community, legislation that erased Black, Latino, and API history in our schools, and banning critical healthcare for those who are pregnant. They’ve done everything in their power to break our momentum.
The “Don’t Say Gay or Trans” bill, the attacks on trans youth and the erasure of lifesaving trans healthcare are the result of a slow, but deliberate plan by anti-equality elected officials. Florida has long been the testing ground for how far extreme conservative Republicans can take their anti-equality fight, and in this past session they showed us they are willing to go to any lengths.
Every year, including this November, LGBTQ+ people’s lives are on the ballot. Whom we elect to office at every level has a direct effect on our daily lives. If we take 10 minutes from our day to turn out en masse and vote, we will see what our collective power can do for our community.
It is easy to feel dejected and like our vote has done little to affect change, but remember this. If our vote didn’t matter, then Republican leadership wouldn’t be working so hard to take our vote away.
The hope of a better tomorrow for my home state and my community is the reason I am running for office in my hometown. I am running for Florida State Senate, District 18, which covers a majority of Pinellas County – from Clearwater to most of St. Petersburg and Gulfport. We don’t need more elected leaders who will waste time on politicking for their party for national coverage and rubber-stamping legislation for the ultra-wealthy few.
We need advocates for our whole community, not just select parts. Leaders who care more about your rising homeowner’s insurance than fighting with Disney. I care that your streets flood after a summer rainstorm; I care that your public school has a staffing shortage; I care about local governments being allowed to make critical decisions for our local communities instead of an authoritarian government taking away that power.
We deserve leaders that will be bold enough to do the work to continue our road to full equity. I am that leader.
It is not lost on me the significance of what my election to the Florida State Senate could mean; especially in this moment. My Puerto Rican heritage and lesbian identity represent everything extremists are attempting to erase from our history and lives. My run for office and my election will send a clear message: LGBTQ+ people are here and we will not be erased.
All of us, regardless of our race, gender identity, who we love, or our zip code, deserve representation at every level of government. Those in elected office that continue to work against us should know that their time in office is short-lived.
Every year we say that this election is the most critical – and we are on the precipice. Depending on how we vote this November, our country – our state – will determine the direction of our momentum towards equity.
This election is about our personal freedoms. This November, our lives are on the ballot. Let’s vote like it.
Eunic Ortiz is an adjunct professor and longtime activist. She could become the first openly gay woman elected to the Florida State Senate this November. Learn more at EunicForFlorida.com.
