Blue City Blues
(Reprinted from Globus Journal) San Francisco was quiet—unusual for this compact 7×7 square-mile city. There were no noisemakers, cheers, or fireworks. Watching televised election results in my mother’s SF apartment, with only my elder beagle, Sunday, by my side, I didn’t hear a peep of celebration following Donald Trump’s 2024 re-election. I wondered if the Democratic stronghold of San Francisco, where over 80% of voters backed Kamala Harris, was quietly processing fear, anger, and sadness. That night, I wished I could see into my neighbor’s homes.
In my mother’s neighborhood, Noe Valley, French is commonly spoken, and strollers fill the sidewalks. Just over a steep hill lies the Castro District, one of the first LGBTQ+ neighborhoods in the United States. A 10-minute walk east will land you in the Mission District, home to a vibrant Latino community. Not only did our diverse, Democratic-majority city have much to lose with the return of Trump. SF also has a special connection to the opposing candidate: Born in nearby Oakland and raised in Berkeley, Harris served two terms as San Francisco’s district attorney—the first woman and person of Black and South Asian heritage to hold the position. She went on to serve as California’s attorney general, then senator, and, after a failed presidential campaign in 2020, as vice president of the United States.
When it became clear that Harris would lose her presidential bid, I wondered, “How are people reacting? How are people feeling? Are people scared of how this returned administration might impact them?” To find out, I spent the week after the election joining gatherings where San Franciscans processed the results.
Picturesque Setting, Dark Political Landscape
In Alamo Square Park that Sunday, five days after the election, there was a San Francisco Women’s Political Committee event called the “Empower & Unwind Breakfast Picnic.” The park was peaceful—with minimal tourists, dogs, and families—which was rare, as the skyline view behind the Painted Ladies, a picturesque row of Victorian homes, offers one of the most photographed spots in the city. A banner with the political committee’s name hung on a white table holding champagne, orange juice, and baked goods. About 10 casually dressed twentysomethings, a mix of men and women, sat on blankets spread across the park’s grassy hill. It was late autumn in San Francisco, and while the city’s weather is usually mild this time of year, there was a chill to that morning’s air. Damp residue stuck on the blankets, made by low-hanging clouds that we locals affectionately call Karl the Fog. I heard a murmur of voices as people leaned into soft two-on-two conversations.
It was here that I met Angelina Polselli. A San Francisco organizer in her mid-20s, she wore light-wash jeans with painted pastel swirls. Polselli has a degree in political science from the University of San Francisco, where I’m also a student. Polselli recently joined the newly elected SF mayor’s Daniel Lurie transition team. Before this, she was the chief operating officer at Manny’s, a social-justice-minded San Francisco café with a venue for civic engagement and educational events. Our conversation began tentatively as if we were mourning at a funeral. When asked about the results of 150 million votes (and 90 million eligible voters who sat out), Polselli paused, frustration evident in her voice, before saying, “I think we need a third party, actually.” She said the current political system felt increasingly out of touch with the needs of the people, both locally and nationally.
Then Polselli described the shock of Tuesday’s election night and the days that followed. “I had friends at my house for a couple of hours for breakfast on Wednesday,” she said. “And that evening, we went out to get drinks,” which she described as “a lot of talking and getting out our feelings.”
“I think there’s a community in that we’re all exhausted and heartbroken”
As we spoke, Polselli reflected on the divide within her circles. “I think there’s a community in that we’re all exhausted and heartbroken,” she said, her voice softening, “but a lot of divides on why we lost.” Within her sphere of the political world, Polselli explained that some people blamed the quick turnaround of the campaign–Harris stepped in after President Joe Biden ended his campaign in July 2024. Polselli had heard others critique Harris’s ability to mobilize.
I thought back to almost three months before election day when I had attended August’s Democratic National Convention in Chicago as a delegate. There seemed to be party unity. When the time came for the hastily named presidential candidate Harris’s speech, the room went up in a roar of supportive cheers and shouts. I had never seen such raw and genuine support up close. But like Polselli, after Nov. 5’s results, I found myself wondering, “What went wrong?” For me, her, and many others in San Francisco, that question seemed unanswerable.
A Campus Comes to Grips
Two days after election day, students, faculty, and community members met at the University of San Francisco for an event titled “Post-Election Community Reaction, Dialogue, and Debrief.” The Politics Department and Law School panelists welcomed roughly 40 attendees in an event room on USF’s Lone Mountain campus. The setting itself carries historical significance, as Lone Mountain was once home to San Francisco College for Women, a Catholic women’s college founded in 1932. This history can still be felt in its preserved Spanish Gothic Architecture, which remained even after USF acquired the campus in 1978. In line with the architecture’s intention to provoke contemplation, the atmosphere was heavy with frustration and uncertainty. Some people held tissues to wipe tears and runny noses, while many leaned on one another for support. As both an attendee and an undergraduate at USF, I watched the first speaker, Angie Vuong, organizer and leader of USF Votes, approach the stage with tears in her eyes. “Oh god,” Vuong began.
“It’s okay, take your time,” a middle-aged man said from the audience.
Another chimed in, “We got you.” It felt like the room was in solidarity as Vuong collected herself.
Vuong is the McCarthy Center’s Assistant Director of Community Engagement and Public Service Programs. I work within its reading and tutoring program, Engage San Francisco Literacy, which aligns with the center’s goal of promoting civic engagement, public service, and connecting USF students with policy, advocacy, and social justice opportunities. I’ve only formally worked with her once during the 2024 bi-annual Leo T. McCarthy Award for Public Service, in which I saw her running around the venue, attending to all aspects of the event.
With a background as a lobbyist, researcher, and consultant, Vuong has worked across local, state, federal, and non-government sectors, including UNICEF, the Center for American Progress, and the ACLU. Currently, she leads USFVotes, a campus initiative to institutionalize voter engagement. In the 2020 general election, 75.1 percent of eligible USF students showed up and voted.
“Like many of you, I am heartbroken,” she began, her voice shaky as she tried to swallow her tears. “Things for me are as expected. As a woman of color, an Asian woman, and the daughter of Vietnamese immigrants, I know the work ahead will be hard.” I thought I caught a subtle reference to Harris, a daughter of immigrant parents and a woman of color.
Then Vuong passionately discussed the need to trust our community leaders and the importance of fighting to build a new, equitable society. Vuong radiated vulnerability and resilience as someone deeply committed to democracy and civic empowerment. She wasn’t just a voter in the 2024 election; she was a mobilizer and a leader for others to vote as well. “How do we make lifelong voters?” She asked before sharing a poignant story about a student who helped translate their grandmother’s ballot this election.
Read Isabella’s full blog “Blue City Blues” here.
fsantillansandoval • June 5, 2025