An Archipelago of Hope

Hope is not passive—it’s a choice, and we’re making it together.

I just got back from the opening kickoff of the Principles First Summit, and my heart is full.

Walking into that room tonight, I saw a sea of familiar faces—friends I’ve been in the trenches with for years. People who have been fighting for democracy, for character in leadership, for the rule of law—not just in theory, but in the real, messy, daily work of shaping the future of this country.

I also met a ton of new people. And that’s what made it even more powerful.

When we started gathering six years ago, Principles First was just a handful of people meeting in mom-and-pop diners, looking for a place to belong in an era where it felt like our political home had lost its moral compass. We were small but determined. Now, we are over 1,000 strong, gathering in the heart of Washington, D.C.—just steps from the White House.

The ranks have grown. The fight has expanded. And the energy is contagious.

Why Are We So Joyful?

To the outside observer, it might be puzzling. After all, we fought with everything we had to defeat Donald Trump, and we lost. By conventional wisdom, this should be a time for finger-pointing, for second-guessing, for mourning what could have been.

But that’s not what tonight was.

We didn’t gather for a funeral. We didn’t come together to wallow in despair or bicker over what went wrong. We came together because, as frustrating as this moment is, the work isn’t over. It never was.

We gathered to learn. To challenge ourselves. To pick up the pieces, sharpen our focus, and prepare for what comes next. And yes—to laugh. To celebrate the bonds of friendship that have carried us through these fights. To remind ourselves that while our opponents want us exhausted and demoralized, joy is its own form of defiance.

Because here’s the truth: we aren’t just in this to stop something bad. We are in this to build something better.

Hope as an Orientation of the Heart

In moments like these, I think about hope—not as wishful thinking, but as something deeper and more enduring.

Václav Havel once wrote, “Hope, in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously heading for success, but rather an ability to work for something because it is good.”

Hope, real hope, is not dependent on the odds being in our favor. It is not a mere prediction of success. It is not contingent on whether the fight is easy or whether victory is near. Hope is an orientation of the spirit, a decision to keep going even when the road is long and the path uncertain.

We are not gathering this weekend because everything is going well. We are gathering because what we are doing is good. Because this work matters. Because even when we lose, even when we struggle, we refuse to abandon the principles that guide us.

That is why there was joy in the room tonight. Not because the battle is over, but because we are still here.

An Archipelago of Hope

Some of us have been standing together in this fight for six years now. In that time, we’ve seen one another grow—new jobs, new homes, new families, new chapters of life unfolding. We’ve weathered losses, setbacks, and tough seasons. But we’re still here. And when we come together, the fire reignites, the hope swells, and the purpose strengthens.

It’s easy to feel isolated in this work. To believe that you’re shouting into the void. But nights like tonight remind me that we are not a lone island in an endless sea. We are an archipelago of hope.

Across this country, in ways large and small, people are doing the work. They’re speaking up in their communities. They’re pushing back against extremism. They’re building institutions of integrity. They’re running for office, writing, organizing, leading. And when we come together, we strengthen each other for the road ahead.

What We’re Fighting For

The Principles First movement is grounded in, well, principles. And tonight, I was reminded that these principles are not just a list of abstract ideals—they are the foundation for a vision of America that is worth fighting for.

• Integrity, character, and virtue matter. If we elect leaders without moral conviction, we erode the character of the country itself.

• Every person has dignity, equality, and worth. No American is more American than any other.

• Truth, honesty, rationality, and facts are non-negotiable. No one is entitled to their own facts—regardless of party.

• The Constitution and the rule of law must be defended. No leader is above it.

• Limited government, free markets, and equal opportunity empower people to thrive.

• Strong families, strong communities, and civic associations—not the state—should be the primary engines of culture.

• America’s role in the world is unique and important. We must wield our influence with wisdom and purpose.

But more than anything, what struck me tonight was that this movement is not about what we’re against. It’s about what we’re for.

We Believe In Something Positive

There is an energy that comes from fighting against something. It can sustain you for a while. But it is nothing compared to the energy that comes from fighting for something.

What unites us is not just opposition to authoritarianism, dishonesty, and corruption. It’s a belief in the alternative. A belief in a country that can be better than this moment. A belief in a democracy that is resilient and strong. A belief that leadership can be about service, not self-interest. A belief that freedom is best protected when people of good faith refuse to surrender to fear or cynicism.

That is why, despite everything, I walked out of that room tonight feeling lighter than when I walked in. Because hope isn’t passive. Hope isn’t naïve. Hope is a choice. And tonight, I saw people choosing it.

We have work to do. But we are not alone. And we are not done.

This is just the beginning.