What does it mean to lose an election by 55 votes? Does it mean you tried and failed? That all your efforts were wasted? Or is it a testament to the work that you put in — a monument to your commitment?

Tiffany Cabán was a 31-year-old public defender when she got five short text messages that would change her life. Her friend Alana had just heard that the 86-year-old Queens District Attorney wouldn't be seeking reelection. She thought her friend Tiffany would be perfect for the job.

A week later, they got together at a bar in Tribeca, and set about doing the impossible.

First, they filled out a candidate questionnaire from the Democratic Socialists. With no money, experience, or political connections, the grassroots were their only path to victory.

Just a year prior, they'd watched as a young bartender in Queens defeated a 10-term Congressman, using nothing but grassroots energy and support. They wondered: What if that model could work for a progressive D.A.?

This is a story of a grassroots movement that came up short. It's the story of an election loss — but it's not about a setback. It isn't a recitation of wasted energy, or wasted time. This is a story about the things we earn from the effort we give.

It's about how much we can gain from loss.

As long as we're willing to try.

Bay Ridge in 2018 looked like Astoria had twenty years earlier. Same working-class enclaves. Same immigrant families living entire lives within ten blocks. Same subway ride to Manhattan getting shorter as the rent got higher. But separated by twelve miles, two months, and other distances that were harder to measure.

In November 2018, Jimmy Van Bramer gets a phone call that will define his career. Amazon has just chosen Long Island City for their new headquarters. A backroom deal with the mayor and governor. Three billion dollars in tax breaks. And local politicians like Jimmy? They weren't even informed.

Meanwhile, twelve miles south in Bay Ridge, a 26-year-old campaign manager named Zohran Mamdani has just watched his candidate lose a primary election. It's his second loss in Bay Ridge. But he's learning something crucial about organizing, about neighborhoods, and about what it takes to actually win.

This is a story about two campaigns and two neighborhoods at different stages of the same transformation. It's about taking on the richest company in the world. And it's about the distance between watching history happen and being a part of it.

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Jimmy Van Bramer grew up in 1970s Astoria. Eight kids. Working-class family. Phone getting shut off. A closeted gay kid, watching his babysitter's son get called slurs on the street.

By 2018, he's a city councilman representing the district where he grew up. He's witnessed the neighborhood change, firsthand. He's also built coalitions, and learned how power really works. So when Amazon announces their plan for Long Island City, Jimmy makes a decision: he's gonna fight. Even though it means taking on the mayor, the governor, real estate developers, and some of the most powerful forces in New York. Even though “billionaires don't ****ing lose,” as Jimmy put it.

Meanwhile, down in Bay Ridge, Ross Barkan is running for State Senate with Zohran Mamdani as his campaign manager. They're knocking thousands of doors. Building grassroots energy. Mobilizing communities traditionally left out of politics.

They'll get 42% of the vote. They'll lose.

But Zohran is soaking it all in. Learning. Seeing what works and what doesn't. And he’s realizing that Bay Ridge in 2018 is akin to Astoria of twenty years ago — on the cusp of change, but not quite there.

Through grassroots organizing, a broad coalition of local groups and labor unions, brutal city council hearings, and one devastating question about union neutrality, Jimmy and his allies will do the impossible. They'll make Amazon back out.

On Valentine's Day 2019, sitting in his mother's apartment on 44th Street, Jimmy's phone explodes. Amazon is leaving. The richest company in the world is taking their toys and going home.

And Tim? He was there that cold November morning when Jimmy held his first press conference. Camera in hand. He took a picture, considered writing something, too. But he never did. Went back to the sideline, instead.

And the space between where Jimmy stood and where Tim watched? It was just a few feet on that cold November morning. But it was a distance that felt impossible to cross.

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One door knock at a time, one phone call at a time, one volunteer shift at a time, Tim’s neighbors were building something. A grassroots movement. Mutual aid networks. A community.

In just seven years, they'd reshape their neighborhood. They'd form nonprofits to give away free food, and create outdoor spaces that everyone can enjoy. They'd elect democratic socialists to nearly every local office, and then help build a movement large enough to put a 33-year-old organizer and State Assemblyman named Zohran Mamdani on the cusp of being elected the next mayor of New York.

In seven short years, a movement would grow. Thousands upon thousands would get involved. And in Astoria, Shawna Morlock and nine perfect strangers standing in the park would blossom into fifty thousand volunteers knocking on doors across the city.

While they were building all that, Tim Donovan had retreated from politics entirely. A former freelance journalist who covered progressive causes for national outlets, in 2016 he left that world behind. For the next nine years, he'd mix cocktails in his neighborhood of Astoria, Queens.

This is the story of the people who built those movements — but it’s the story of people like Tim, too. Because it’s not just about the people who knock on doors three nights a week. It's not just about people who organize nonprofits.

It’s about the rest of us.

It’s about the choices we make.

And sometimes, the ones that we don’t