By Sophia Pu, 2026 CLA Intern
Feet: hurting. Makeup: sweating off. Mouth: tired of talking. And yet, there was a nightmare scenario on repeat in my head that kept me campaigning: someone telling me they didn’t vote for my candidate because no one reached out to them.
The time for hesitating to talk to people had passed hours ago. Whether it was reconnecting with people I hadn’t seen in months or forging entirely new relationships, I didn’t go five minutes without giving a spiel for my candidate, Gabriel Molina-Kong. When I got anxious over ensuring we spoke to each voter, I was comforted by seeing my team’s bright yellow leis scattered throughout the crowd and knowing each of them was giving their all. We didn’t stop until almost everyone at the event was wearing one of the yellow plumeria clips attached to our brochures.
The whirl of campaigning was exhilarating because I truly believed in the vision we were putting forward and I was confident that our ideas were well-researched. We spent dozens of hours wrapping our heads around county governance and crafting our platform. I laid out an hour-by-hour plan of where we would be, what we would be talking about, and how we were going to execute on election day. Of course, our plan went out the window as soon as we stepped into the AAPI LEAD Summit. As Dwight D. Eisenhower once said, plans are worthless, but planning is everything.
Not all of the campaign process was energizing. It was a struggle to approach people to network, let alone invite them to a fake election for a position that doesn’t exist yet. Where I expected to strike natural conversations at the AAPI LEAD Summit, I instead felt like a shark circling the lunch area, looking for prey. Gabriel faced detailed questions about positions he never actually held, while other members of my team overcame hostile confrontations.
What made it all worth it was the realization that “network” is just another word for community. I met leaders at the Summit who were fighting for AAPI representation in Alaska and Tennessee, reminding me that a seat at the table cannot be taken for granted. When I needed a break from pitching people who were only half listening, I took refuge in conversations with old friends like Alton Wang, PCC trustee, and new allies like staff in Assemblymember Al Maratsuchi’s office. At the reception, I got to see Kari Okubo, Karen Umemoto, and Chancee Martorell, the pillars of an Asian American studies class I took at UCLA. Seeing the strength of my network, or community, reminded me of Nancy’s lessons on networking being a team sport. I was surrounded by people I could lean on because they had paved the way before me and are walking alongside me now.
The highlight of election night for me was after Gabriel won and I ran to the other team with arms outstretched. We ended up in a giant group hug, jumping in a circle to Kendrick Lamar’s “Alright”. After all the blood, sweat, and tears we put in together, it was the perfect moment of catharsis.