I spent last night with Arizona dems as their world fell apart

The problem with holding a election-night watch party in the mountain time zone is that by the time people start to roll in, the night will have already taken a turn. After racking up historic wins during the Trump era, Arizona Democrats entered the 2024 election hoping to keep the positive results coming. But at the party’s official celebration at an upscale hotel and conference center in north Phoenix on Tuesday, the mood started off anxious.

When I asked Mary Kuckertz, a mental-health professional from Tempe, how she was feeling, she used a term that to seemed to capture the spirit of the Democratic electorate: “Nauseously optimistic.”

At that point in the night, Vice President Kamala Harris’ path to victory was narrowing but still possible, and Kuckertz, a mental-health researcher, was thinking about what a second Trump term would mean. “So much funding got cut when Trump was president—all of these really phenomenal programs that we’re bringing these mental health services to children and families who really needed it, so many of those services have totally gone by the wayside,” she said. “I can’t handle more trans kids not getting access to basic human care.”

Arizona was the epicenter for the popular front against Donald Trump and his allies, and the people in the room were a reminder of what this coalition of moderate Republicans, Native Americans, Black and Latino voters, and college-educated whites had accomplished over the last eight years. Attendees heard from Gov. Katie Hobbs, who defeated election-denier Kari Lake two years ago; and Secretary of State Adrian Fontes, who defeated election denier Mark Finchem that same year; and Sen. Mark Kelly, who defeated Peter Thiel acolyte Blake Masters in 2022 and Trump-backed Rep. Martha McSally two years before that. The volunteers and organizers in the room had flipped a Senate seat in 2018 and knocked Sheriff Joe Arpaio from office in 2016. And on Tuesday, when almost everything else was looking grim, they had delivered a historic policy win—passing Prop 139, a constitutional amendment that guarantees the right to an abortion in the state to the point of viability. It wasn’t particularly close.

These were major accomplishments—the product of years or organizing and tactical ticket-splitting. There was another possible silver lining, too: Lake could lose again, this time to Democratic Rep. Ruben Gallego, who predicted victory in a speech last night, but cautioned supporters that it might take time for the race to be called. (It still hasn’t been.) Gallego, a Marine veteran who was raised by a single mother, would be the state’s first Latino senator, and he ran well ahead of the presidential ticket—particularly among Latino men. He succeeded less through any sort of anti-Trump messaging than through an aspirational pitch for the American Dream and working-class economic priorities.

The longer things went on, though, the more dissonant it seemed to hear Harry Styles and “Mr. Brightside” blaring over the speakers while Steve Kornacki pointed at an increasingly crimson map. (Pick a state—it didn’t seem to matter.) The crowd dwindled, and people started to hit the cash bar with a bit more purpose. 

When I asked Denise Deubery, who was watching the MSNBC feed, how she was feeling, she told me “the best way to put it is nauseously optimistic.”

The phrase was apparently catching on. But the meaning was a little different. The nauseous part was obvious, of course, but as the networks prepared to call more states that would narrow Harris’ path to victory even more, why was Deubery optimistic? It wasn’t about Harris’ chances, she said, but about the work that had brought them all there.

“I’ve never been amongst more encouraging individuals that I’ll probably never meet again in my life,” she said. She’d been volunteering since September. The fight gave her hope. It was the type of thing you could build on. “I’ve never been more of a proud American.”

By the time Fontes spoke, to officially wind the ceremonies down, there were more photographers than partisans on floor. “Wipe that frigging sourpuss face off of your face,” he implored anyone listening. Determined to put a positive spin on things, he noted the high number of outstanding ballots to count in Maricopa, and asked Democrats to be patient as results trickled in over the coming days.

“The last thing in the world I want to see out of my Democratic Party is a lot of pearl-clutching, a lot of hand-wringing, and a lot of naysaying,” he said. He wanted them to “continue moving forward with joy, whether or not you feel good about what Jake Tapper and the rest of those folks are saying on TV tonight.” Come morning, it was time to start curing ballots.

But there was no point in denying the obvious. 

“Lastly let me say this: If you’re going to drink: good—get an Uber or Lyft when you go home,” he said. “I want y’all to be safe, because we got a lot of work to still do.”