It is the middle of the night, and I am too emotional to sleep.

Texas actually turned blue.

Gina Hinojosa has been elected governor. James Talarico has won a United States Senate seat and so much more up and down the ballot.

I keep looking at the results, overwhelmed with joy for people I have known, people I have loved, and people who spent decades believing this moment was possible.

Some are celebrating tonight. Some are no longer with us.

And I wish they could all be here.

The Road Back to Texas

In May 1999, I packed everything I owned into my brand-new, silver, two-door Chevy Blazer.

My best friend and I drove eighteen hours straight from Michigan to Houston after I finished graduate school at the University of Michigan.

I thought I was beginning a new life. In some ways, I was returning to my family’s past.

Family lore says my great-great-great-grandfather was a blacksmith in San Marcos. My grandmother was from Luling, Texas. Her family migrated north to Michigan in search of industrial jobs.

But Grandma never stopped loving Texas.

Never.

Even after building a life in Michigan, Texas remained in her heart. She let me hear about it all the time.

Tonight, I wish I could hear her stories again.

Maybe that eighteen-hour drive wasn’t just about finding my future. Maybe I was finding my way back to something.

We Were Young, and We Believed

In Houston, I began working in the Houston Independent School District’s Department of Research and Accountability.

But after work, another education was happening.

I walked neighborhoods, volunteered for campaigns, and helped register more than 1,000 Latino voters.

In 2000, I was honored to represent Texas as an Al Gore delegate at the Democratic National Convention in Los Angeles.

That grassroots work brought life-changing opportunities, including dinner with President Bill Clinton and breakfast with Vice President Al Gore.

But tonight, those aren’t the memories bringing tears to my eyes.

It’s the people.

I remember block-walking for Representative Joe Moreno. Joe was always so friendly, so welcoming. His life was tragically cut short in an automobile accident. He deserved so many more years, so many more nights like this one.

I remember evenings with Carol Alvarado, Armando Walle, and Ana Hernandez. Today, they are important figures in Texas politics.

But back then, we were young activists together.

We laughed, talked politics, dreamed about our communities, and believed we could make a difference. What a privilege it was to share those years with them.

And I miss Frumencio Reyes, that extraordinary Tejano Democrat, elder, and defense attorney whose wisdom helped guide a generation of activists.

Joe and Frumencio aren’t here tonight.

That hurts.

Some people spend their lives planting seeds for a future they never get to see. Tonight, I wish I could hug a few of those people.

Tonight, I’m Celebrating My Friends

My heart is especially full for my old University of Michigan friend, Representative Diego Bernal.

Diego and I go back to our college days in Ann Arbor.

I’ve watched him face uphill battles in the Texas Legislature, especially fighting for public education and the children who depend on it.

I know how much those battles have demanded.

Diego deserves every bit of the joy that tonight brings him.

I wish I could give my old friend a hug.

And I think about thousands of Texans who worked endlessly for a different Texas whose names will never appear in election-night headlines.

The people who stayed late.

Who organized.

Made an extra call.

Who kept showing up when victory seemed impossible.

Tonight, I hope they are laughing, crying, hugging their families, and feeling the extraordinary joy of seeing decades of work bear fruit.

Because this moment belongs to them.

For Everything Texas Gave Me

Texas shaped my life in ways I could never have imagined during that drive to Houston.

It gave me my professional start, lifelong friendships, political mentors, and communities that challenged me to become a better scholar and leader.

During eight years as a professor at the University of Texas at Austin, I studied education policies that sometimes harmed the children they were meant to help.

Some of that research was critical. But Texas taught me that loving a place means caring enough to ask difficult questions.

Last week, I wrote about in the blog Will the Midterm Elections Actually Change Anything ? what new leadership might mean for the Texas Education Agency, school accountability, teachers, and local communities.

Tonight, those possibilities feel much closer.

And in the middle of the night, unable to sleep, I just sent an email to a longtime Texas colleague expressing something deeply personal.

For everything Texas has given me, I am ready to give back in any way I can.

Out of gratitude.

Texas invested in me long before I had much to offer in return. I would be honored to repay even a small part of that debt.

Tonight is about what might become possible for millions of Texas children, their teachers, and their families.

I Wish They Could All See This

I keep thinking about my Grandma Vasquez.

About Joe Moreno and Frumencio Reyes.

About those evenings with Carol, Armando, and Ana.

About Diego, who deserves this happiness.

About the thousands of Texans who refused to stop believing.

What an honor to have known some of them.

What a privilege to have shared even a small part of their journey.

And what overwhelming joy to see this night arrive.

My grandmother never stopped loving Texas.

Neither did I.

Tonight, I wish everyone who planted these seeds could see what has grown.

Texas, this night belongs to you.

My heart is full.

And tonight, I just can’t sleep.

Please share.

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