Subject to Change
Clarity, stability, and maybe even love—all in one month.
Welcome to Signals from Earth, essays on culture, life, and the questions that keep us restless. Sometimes sharp, sometimes tender—always searching for meaning in the mess.
A few weeks ago, I flew to Philly for the 2nd Congress of the Revolutionary Communists of America. It was the largest gathering of our party in history, held in a hotel ballroom that was, somehow, both metaphorically and literally on fire. I’ve never been to a hotel ballroom that wasn’t freezing, but this one radiated heat. You could feel it from the hallway. The kind of heat that comes from hundreds of people showing up to try and change the world.
At one point, I was talking to a comrade who said, “I’ve never felt like a party has ever represented my interests before.” And I felt that in my bones. Over the weekend, we discussed and voted unanimously on three major documents. In a moment where the left feels deeply confused—about Trump, about the economy, about how to fight—it gave me clarity. No one else is saying what we’re saying. No one else has a program of unflinching class independence. After that weekend, I felt more confident than ever that our international and our party have the strategy and perspective we need, not just to fight back, but to win.
Two weeks later, I got a job.
I won’t say where exactly, but it’s a worker-owned grocery store. That means better wages and actual benefits—rare things in a country where having a job at all can feel like a miracle. I’d been looking for over a year. I applied to jobs every single day. Most of the time, I didn’t even get interviews.
When the offer came in, I jumped up and threw my fists in the air like I’d just won gold at the Olympics. Because honestly? That’s what it felt like. Unemployment is misery. It’s not just financially terrifying, it’s humiliating. I wanted to work. I wanted to contribute. And for a long time, I felt like I was begging to be let back in. I haven’t started yet, and I’m sure there will be moments I hate it, because that’s life under capitalism. But I’m happy to have a win. I feel like I can breathe again. This job will let me go to school, show up for political work, and slowly rebuild the life I want.
And in the middle of all that, there’s her.
We met on Hinge, but didn’t go out for two weeks because she came down with a cold. When we finally had our first date, I brought her lavender daisies. I’ve never bought flowers for a first date before, so that should tell you something.
We went to an aquarium, and I was already smitten by the time we got to the stingrays. She’s funny, quirky, and strange in the best possible ways. She asked me a series of first-date questions that somehow felt both playful and piercing, and I remember thinking, oh no, I’m in trouble. Our physical connection is electric, but what really gets me is the way she makes me feel hot and seen. There’s something so refreshing about it.
I don’t know what it’ll turn into, but I’m excited. I think it could be something special.
In the span of a few weeks, I got more political clarity, a job, and the beginnings of something that might be love. It feels like I’m stepping out of a long, hard chapter and into something new. Not perfect. Not easy. But real. And for now, that’s enough.