It's Monday, May 18, 2026. The day before the Georgia Democratic primary. And I just got back from driving around DeKalb County, placing signs for State Representative Derrick Jackson.

I've been doing this for weeks. Putting up signs. Taking them down when they get vandalized. Putting them back up. This is the work. This is what it means to be a campaign manager for a candidate who is the most qualified but "not palatable enough."

But today was different. Today, something happened that I can't shake.

I saw the signs as bodies.

I drove through predominantly white neighborhoods in DeKalb County. And I saw signs for Miracle Rankin and Jen Jordan, two women running for statewide office, ripped out of the ground. Thrown on the sidewalks. Laying under trees.

And I got an eerie feeling. A feeling I can't quite name. A feeling that connected me to something deeper than this election, deeper than this campaign, deeper than this moment.

It took me back, as if I were my own ancestor, watching in horror as they hung from trees.