OBWV 2026 goals: Identify political problems, vote carefully
The DIY light switch project that made me realize losing my temper was getting me nowhere
The following post is part of my former Substack publication “One Black Woman’s Vote” that is now in “I Do See Color.” To see more OBWV posts from 2026, click here. For 2025 OBWV posts, click here. For 2021-2024 OBWV posts, click here. New OBWV posts will be published on the second Saturday of each month.
“Procrastinator” is not a word that describes me 99% of the time. In school, I would do all of my homework at my desk whenever I had a long-winded teacher. That way, I could go home empty-handed while the rest of my class had a pile of work to do. As an adult, when given a report to write, I’d rather send out 20 pitches to see if one person responds than to wait multiple days for one person to respond to an interview. If any of the other 19 reply back, even better! I can start scheduling back-to-back interviews.
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But there was one time when I was procrastinating for several weeks solely because I didn’t know how to do something: fix a light switch. When you own a home, there is no landlord to call to fix things. It’s on you. And I didn’t have the $200 that local electricians required to come out and fix my bathroom light switch. One lady at an electrical company suggested I fix it myself since their electrician was booked all week, and she claimed she fixed her own light switches. I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t doing that! Drywall repairs were one thing, but the risk of getting electrocuted was another. Instead, I spent $20 on motion detector lights all over my bathroom and used those as an alternative for three weeks.
By the end of the month, a light bulb went off in my head. If the maintenance guy for my prior condo rental helped me install an over-the-range microwave and laughed while helping me troubleshoot installing an electric bidet (before I returned it for a non-electric bidet), he probably knew something about light switches. I called him, he came over and only charged me $50. But for the third time in a row, he insisted I be his assistant. I sighed. If I didn’t want to watch my grandfather fix stuff, why would I want to watch him? Putting up wallpaper was enough DIY work for me. I half-heartedly observed him, realizing just how easy this job was and why the electrician employee suggested I do it on my own.
Several months later, my bedroom light switch died. I smiled because I already knew what to do. I fixed the switch in less than an hour (if that) and moved on with my day.
Fast forward about five years. When my kitchen light went out a month ago, I groaned. This light switch was already in a very stupid spot behind a cabinet, and I was constantly accidentally turning off my lights whenever I cooked a big meal. (That’s where my slow cooker, pots and pans were.) And it was popping sideways from being banged on so many times.
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After several years since I replaced the last light switch, I was foggy on the process. After watching YouTube videos to refresh my memory — and buying my own voltage detector pen instead of just turning the power off and assuming there were no live wires — I went to work. To my surprise, changing the light switch was like riding a bike. I did it as quickly and successfully the third time as I did the second time on my own. I was damn near smug by the time I positioned my LED flashlight to put the cover back on the wall. The problem? Twenty minutes later, I couldn’t do it.
I flipped the power on to make sure the new light switch worked, counted off the screws, checked my toolbox and sighed. I turned the power off again, used the voltage detector pen a second time and stared at the wall. By this time, I’d mumbled every curse word, knew I couldn’t leave this light switch hanging off the wall, considered yelling at my annoying upstairs neighbor pacing back and forth, and glanced at my fridge knowing my cold food was thawing. I was growing irritated at how easy it was to remove this light switch and how difficult it was to put it back on. I breathed in and out a few times to calm down at the 40-minute mark while my dog (who I crated) was looking at me like I didn’t pay the light bill.
I went through my smartphone, looking at the photographs I took during disassembly so I didn’t mix up the wires. I still didn’t see where I went wrong. To make matters worse, my dog vomited. I cleaned that up, gave her FortiFlora (which always settles her stomach on the rare occasion she gets ill) and watched her happily lick up the powder. That was the easy part, but I still hadn’t figured out the bigger problem.
I sat on a bar stool and stared at the hanging light switch, trying to figure out what I missed. That’s when I noticed a screw hole I’d been ignoring. As soon as I screwed the light switch into that specific hole, the switch easily fastened in place and the light switch cover finally fit correctly. I turned on the lights and smiled.
Don’t just complain, figure out a solution to 2026 problems
This is how I plan to approach “One Black Woman’s Vote,” “BlackTechLogy” and “I Do See Color” in 2026. Instead of just ranting about the problem (because Trump has created an astounding amount), my goal is to try to figure out the best steps for a solution. Notably, more than half of my most popular IDSC posts are about identifying a problem and empathizing with those who are going through the same thing I was (or am), but half of them don't share what I did after explaining what went awry.
I’ve started the year by “looking at the light switch” to see potential fixes. Politics is one of those fixes.
Recommended Read: “Chicago, can we get a Zohran Mamdani or Jasmine Crockett to run for the House or Senate? ~ Senator Dick Durbin and Rep. Jan Schakowsky are retiring, but is a social media enthusiast like Kat Abughazaleh the answer?”
On my regular route while walking my dog, I see yard signs everywhere from people running for Senate and other open Illinois political rolls. The problem is that the same people putting yard signs in my neighborhood or setting up campaign offices nearby aren’t doing much to engage within the community besides clogging up our mailboxes.
I’ve looked at their websites. Solely saying they’re Democrats, sitting outside of buildings chanting anti-Trump sayings and attending no-Kings rallies could make you a solid voter. However, that doesn’t make them equipped to be a member of Congress. Browse around for anything related to diversity, equity and inclusion or the rights of Black people in general, and it’s tumbleweed on some campaign sites. Look for these same campaigners in Black, Asian and left-leaning Hispanic communities or frequenting Black, Asian and left-leaning Hispanic businesses. Nowhere to be found. But they still want Black, Asian and left-leaning Hispanic people to vote for them. I'm not impressed.
Immigration laws are important. They absolutely should be discussed. However, the ICE-related death of Keith Porter Jr. matters as much to me as the horrendous ICE-related death of Renee Good. More than 600,000 Black women facing unemployment matters as much to me as Hispanic people getting snatched away from makeshift vending stations. And I don’t want to hear a word from any politician who voted in support of National Remembrance Day of Charlie Kirk. If they were too scared to vote no or just voted present (read: Jesus “Chuy” Garcia and Jan Schakowsky) for this remembrance day, they won’t get my vote come Election Day.
I’m paying attention to how many local, state and federal politicians easily won their way to office in prior elections. I’m dissecting what went wrong once things were disassembled. And I’m voting based on who can properly put the U.S. back together again so it’s working properly.
Why would local election mailers matter?
When I got the first flood of election mailers in my mailbox, I sorted through each one, read it front to back, and then pulled out a pen.