Progressive Political News

A federal judge has ordered Rümeysa Öztürk to be transferred to Vermont as she seeks to challenge what her lawyers call her “unconstitutional detention” in an ICE detention center in Louisiana. Öztürk is a Turkish national and a Tufts University Ph.D. student whose abduction off the streets by plainclothes U.S. agents was caught on camera,…

In middle school, I was consumed by my anger and fear about the climate crisis, craving an outlet to channel my frustration into action. Every Friday, my sister and I stood on the sidewalk with our “School Strike for Climate” signs, trying desperately to harness hope and start some kind of change. Without the skills or support to build something impactful at the time, my efforts dissipated each day as the cars passed by. By the end of eighth grade, I was exhausted from wanting to change the world but not knowing how. I read books about youth activism and searched for organizations to join. I went to countless events and took action with different groups, but I was still left craving more. I wanted to feel empowered and supported.

About three years later, I found the Sunrise Movement, a home for young people who are ready to bring big and bold change to their communities. Now, I am a senior in high school in Boulder, Colorado, where I lead a local Sunrise Movement hub. As part of a national movement of young people demanding bold action to stop the climate crisis, I work to ensure that Black, brown, and working-class communities receive the investments they need to thrive while pushing for millions of well-paying, green, union jobs. I have built a network of seventy students across my school district, mobilizing them to take statewide action in our fight for climate justice.

Young people have always been at the forefront of change. From the Civil Rights Movement to anti-war protests, students and youth hold a crucial role in bringing about political shifts.

To harness the power of youth organizing, Sunrise is equipping thousands of young people with the skills and resources to build power and win real, legislative changes. Our support network keeps members from across the country connected to one another, providing training on how to run a hub, financial support for hubs and working-class Sunrisers, and the tools needed to sustain long-term organizing.

But beyond these resources, what makes Sunrise truly powerful is our bold and honest vision of how we will transform every aspect of society to face the climate crisis. The Green New Deal isn’t just policy; it’s a blueprint for transforming our society. It envisions a United States powered by 100 percent renewable energy, where our government invests in racial and economic justice, and where people are prioritized over profit.

As a community organizer, I have spoken with hundreds of young people, both in my local communities and communities across the country. One thing is clear: Our generation has a desire to be at the forefront of change and the courage to try. Yet too often, we become lost and discouraged, wondering where to channel our energy. We are told that individual actions—recycling, turning off lights—are the solution. But these steps are frankly not nearly enough to address the crises we face. In fact, they are exactly the kind of distractions that the fossil fuel industry wants us to focus on rather than dismantling the oppressive systems that pollute our communities and sow division. When young people are taught how to make change, we are always told to start small and to take simple actions that take little time or effort. However, creating change requires massive amounts of time and effort. This is not about doing what is easy; this is about doing what is necessary.

That is why Sunrise activates young people nationwide to organize in their own communities, building mass movements to push for governmental action and shift the public narrative. Our generation will be the most impacted by the climate crisis, and we have the unique energy and perspective to drive political change. Youth organizing is crucial to political progress on this front because we have a singular understanding of the urgency, growing up in the midst of climate chaos with most of our lives ahead of us at risk.

While the political world is often disillusioning, taking action can be a remedy to apathy. In my experience working with young people, getting involved with campaigns and community organizing has turned many of my peers from feeling hopeless to feeling powerful. This is not to say that engaging in activism breeds optimism. I still feel pessimistic about many issues that we face. The difference is that as an organizer, I choose to turn toward these issues. It is an active decision I make every day to fight for the world we deserve. In doing so, I have learned that I hold the power to transform the people and places around me. I have chosen bravery over apathy.

A few years ago, I started a Green New Deal for Schools campaign in my school district. The nationwide effort by the Sunrise Movement is a bold vision to transform our schools to face the climate crisis by installing solar panels on school buildings, electrifying school buses, teaching a comprehensive climate justice curriculum, and providing students with pathways to green jobs. After months of campaigning in our district, collecting petition signatures, giving public comment at school board meetings, and galvanizing hundreds of students at meetings and events to support our vision, we won a Green New Deal for Schools resolution. What started with just two other students and me became a district-wide policy. Now, we are working to win similar changes for the entirety of Colorado through our state legislature and state board of education.

In this turbulent political climate, youth organizing is more important than ever. Tens of thousands of federal employees have been let go or put on leave by Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency, after another 75,000 workers took the offered buyouts. Critical programs and agencies like the U.S. Agency for International Development, the National Science Foundation, the National Park Service, and the Department of Education are facing the loss of millions of dollars in funding, all in the name of allegedly decreasing the federal deficit. Meanwhile, the Trump Administration is approving billions of dollars to fund mass deportations, which attempt to turn us against our neighbors and classmates. The programs and agencies being defunded are not only popular but also critical to U.S. public life. In 2023, the Department of Education provided $18 billion for Title I, a program funding schools in low-income areas, and, in 2024, it distributed another $15 billion to serve students with disabilities through the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act. Along with these programs, the Department of Education manages $1.6 trillion in student loans and oversees the Free Application for Federal Student Aid (FAFSA) program. Lastly, it provides schools with resources for climate disaster recovery, which are especially critical when dealing with disasters like the recent fires in Los Angeles.

Mass federal layoffs and budget cuts demonstrate the current administration’s lack of concern for young people, working-class people, the environment, and public education. It is essential that our generation stands up for what we deserve. Protests have erupted in response nationwide—including youth protests.

In February, I organized a rally at the Colorado State Capitol in Denver for climate justice and public education, specifically to support four bills we are advocating for this legislative session. Students and teachers from around the state mobilized in response to the recent attacks on public education and in support of our vision for our schools. The rally was coordinated entirely by high school students; its success in energizing our community and signaling Coloradans’ priorities to legislators reinforced my belief in student organizing.

Even amid political chaos federally, movements for change can thrive. While opposing national decisions, we can achieve local success and absorb hundreds of new members. We are demonstrating every day that young people will not sit back and let our futures be taken from us. No matter who is in power, our fight will continue.

Young people are capable of so much more than we are taught to believe. There is often an assumption that youth should let adults lead the way and wait to get involved in structures of power. Yet when it comes to so many political issues, young people are disproportionately bearing the impact of policy, and our viewpoints must be prioritized.

History shows that when young people organize, we don’t just participate; we make change. We have the power to shape the world around us right now. That’s why despite the seemingly insurmountable challenges, the hopelessness, and being seventeen years old, I won’t stop fighting for my community, the people I love, and the places I call home. And I want you to join me. 

After President Donald Trump announced sweeping new tariffs earlier this month, the White House released a list of more than a thousand products that would be exempted. One item that made the list is polyethylene terephthalate, more commonly known as PET resin, the thermoplastic used to make plastic bottles. Why it was spared is unclear,…

In ancient Rome, Emperor Elagabalus defied gender norms and became a lightning rod for outrage as a result. His persecution and assassination served a political purpose: to divert attention from a crumbling, corrupt empire. 

Centuries later, from 1940 to 1960, the “Lavender Scare” saw thousands of federal employees purged for being gay. Once again, fear triumphed over reason, and the true sources of instability were ignored.

We like to think we’ve grown more sophisticated, and that with knowledge comes empathy. But in Iowa—my home state, once a national leader in civil rights—the same cynical playbook is being dusted off and weaponized against transgender people.

On February 28, Iowa became the first U.S. state to remove gender identity from its civil rights code. This stripped transgender Iowans of legal protection in employment, housing, education, and public life. Lawmakers framed the bill as an effort to “protect girls”—a rhetorical move designed to pit one group of children against another. Opponents of the bill have called it a rollback of civil rights protections in Iowa.

As a child and adolescent psychiatrist practicing in Iowa, I see the fallout firsthand. Transgender youth already face higher rates of depression, anxiety, and suicide. And national data shows that LGBTQ+ youth who have even a single accepting adult in their lives are 40 percent less likely to report a suicide attempt in the past year. 

Even though Iowa’s gender-affirming care ban does not take effect until July 1, many of my patients are already feeling its impact. Families are scrambling to secure care across state lines, with some traveling five hours or more. The result is a logistical and emotional crisis—especially for those with limited financial means.

In addition to this care ban, Iowa and other states have also passed laws removing books from school libraries, further isolating LGBTQ+ students and sending a chilling message about who belongs.

This is no longer about policy disagreements. It’s about exploiting fear to win power. It’s about provoking emotional responses for political gain, regardless of the real-world consequences.

Why pick on transgender youth? Because they are politically convenient targets. They are misunderstood by many, and easy to frame as threats rather than kids simply trying to exist. Politicians understand this. They are using our evolutionary biology against us. The amygdala—the brain’s fear center—responds strongly to the unfamiliar, stirring emotional momentum even when there’s no logical reason to be afraid.

Real problems, including climate change, school shootings, health care, and poverty, are difficult to address. They demand complex solutions and long-term commitment. It’s easier to redirect public anxiety toward a vulnerable group than to confront those systemic failures. That redirection is not leadership. It is cowardice.

Many of these same politicians market themselves as champions of “family values” or “mental health,” but there is nothing mentally healthy about dehumanizing children. There is no family value in forcing parents to flee their home state to protect their kids. 

We must stop pretending this is a debate between equals. It is not. This is a test of moral clarity.  Either we believe that all children deserve safety, dignity, and access to care, or we don’t. 

Real strength doesn’t look like cruelty. It looks like listening to families. It looks like being willing to evolve. It looks like standing up when it’s hard, not piling on when it’s easy. 

This moment is not just about Iowa. It’s about whether we are willing to name cruelty when we see it. Whether we’re brave enough to remember that what’s popular isn’t always what’s right—and what’s right is rarely easy.

If we want to preserve anything good about this country, it will require more than slogans. It will require action and discernment. Most of all, it will require people who have the courage to protect those who cannot protect themselves. 

This column was produced for Progressive Perspectives, a project of The Progressive magazine, and distributed by Tribune News Service.

In early January, wildfires erupted on the outskirts of Los Angeles, California, and, fueled by especially dry conditions, a diminished fire department, and rapacious Santa Ana winds, quickly spread into out-of-control blazes that would burn more than 40,000 acres and rank among the deadliest and most destructive fires in the state’s history.

Amid these tragic events—which killed at least twenty-nine people, destroyed more than 16,000 homes and other structures, upended lives and ecosystems, and spewed toxins into the air—the city’s large unsheltered population was left exposed to the elements, exacerbating an ongoing humanitarian crisis.

Miles away from the epicenter of the fires, the hurricane-strength winds that coincided with the start of the blazes ravaged tents and makeshift structures in Skid Row in downtown Los Angeles, one of the nation’s largest unhoused communities, leaving many without even basic cover. In the days that followed, ash blanketed the streets and sidewalks, and some of the worst air quality index measurements were recorded in the downtown area.

Studies have shown this kind of air quality can increase immediate and long-term cardiovascular and respiratory risk, a particular concern in a community already rife with underlying health issues and little opportunity to escape the smoke.

With much of the county’s focus centered on the areas directly hit by the fires, grassroots mutual aid efforts led the way in responding to the far-flung impact of the crisis on the unsheltered individuals of Skid Row—the extent of which we will likely not understand for years.

The organization I work with, Blue Hollywood Street Sanctuary (BHSS), a community-building and harm-reduction program led by people with lived homelessness experience, and our partner organization, The Sidewalk Project, were among those on the front lines of this community care.