Redrawing the Future: Reflection from John Lewis Way
- Felicia Baxter
- May 5
- 5 min read
Today is Tuesday, May 5, 2026. It’s a morning that feels simultaneously like every other Tuesday and like no other day in recent history. I just stepped back from the polls, the adhesive of my “I Voted” sticker still fresh against my jacket, and I’m sitting here trying to process the weight of it all.
There is a specific kind of quiet that follows a vote. It’s the silence of a choice made, a voice recorded, and the subsequent waiting for the echoes to return. But here in Tennessee, that silence is being filled by the hum of a special legislative session, one that has many of us holding our breath.
The Walk Down John Lewis Way
I am not in Nashville, and I am definitely not physically walking anywhere near the state building this morning. But knowing the session is happening there, on a street named after John Lewis, lands with a particular kind of force even from a distance. For anyone who knows the history of the Civil Rights Movement, that name isn't just a label for a stretch of asphalt; it is a mandate. It represents "Good Trouble." It represents the bridge in Selma. It represents the literal blood shed to ensure that every person, regardless of the color of their skin, could walk into a booth and have their say in how they are governed.
The irony, however, is still thick enough to taste.
Inside that very building, the one situated on a street named after a man who nearly died for voting rights, a special session has been called. The goal? To redraw our congressional maps. The urgency is palpable, but so is the concern. When we talk about "redrawing the future," we aren't just talking about lines on a map or new district numbers. We are talking about the dilution of power. We are talking about the voices of minority communities and whether they will still have a seat at the table once the ink on these new maps dries.

Why the Mid-Terms Feel Different This Time
We are staring down the mid-terms, and the stakes feel higher than usual. For those of us in the 25-64 age bracket, the folks who are working the jobs, raising the kids, and trying to build a sustainable future, the map-drawing process can feel like something happening in a vacuum. But it’s not.
Redistricting is the foundation upon which everything else is built. If the foundation is tilted, the whole house leans. Critics of this special session are worried that the proposed maps will split communities of interest, making it harder for socially conscious voters to see their values reflected in Washington. When minority voting power is diluted, the very essence of the democracy John Lewis fought for is put at risk.
It’s exhausting. It’s the kind of political "heavy lifting" that can leave you feeling drained before the workday has even truly begun. We’re told it’s about "efficiency" and "population shifts," but when you’re standing on John Lewis Way, you can’t help but wonder if we’re moving backward or forward.
Finding a Moment of Grounding
In times like these, when the headlines are fast and the legislative sessions are "special" and urgent, I find I have to lean into the things that keep me grounded. You know me, I can’t get through a crisis of democracy without a solid cup of coffee and a book that puts things into perspective.
Before I headed out to vote, I brewed a fresh pot of the Latin American Blend from FB Roasters. It’s nutty, it’s bright, and it has just enough of a cocoa finish to remind you that even when things are bitter, there’s a bit of sweetness to be found if you look for it. It’s the kind of brew that helps you clear the morning fog so you can actually read the fine print on a ballot.
If you’re feeling the same weight I am today, maybe take a second to breathe. Put the kettle on. Let the aroma of a good roast fill the kitchen. It’s a small act of self-care, but when the world is redrawing your future without your input, reclaiming your morning is a win.

Reading Between the Lines
While I was waiting for the results of the early tallies to start trickling in, I found myself reaching for a book from our Far From Beale Street collection. There’s something about holding a physical book, the weight of it, the smell of the paper, that feels more permanent than a digital map that can be erased and redrawn at the whim of a committee.
I’ve been revisiting some of the classics, but I’m also looking forward to the new releases that challenge how we see the world. We just added I, Medusa by Ayana Gray to the shop, and honestly, the themes of reclamation and power feel incredibly relevant right now. You can check it out here. Sometimes, seeing a familiar myth redrawn gives you the courage to look at your own reality and say, "No, this isn't right. We can do better."

The Urgency of May 5, 2026
The reason this session is so urgent is that these maps will dictate the political landscape for years to come. We aren't just voting for 2026; we are voting for 2030 and beyond. The decisions made on John Lewis Way this week will influence everything from environmental policy to healthcare access.
For our community: those who have a little bit of disposable income to invest in the causes they care about: it is vital that we don't just "vote and ghost." We have to stay engaged with the process. We have to watch the sessions, read the analyses, and make sure that the irony of that street name doesn't become a permanent fixture of our state's history.
John Lewis famously said, "The vote is precious. It is almost sacred. It is the most powerful non-violent tool we have in a democratic society."
If we allow that tool to be blunted by gerrymandering and map-redrawing that ignores the people, we lose more than just an election. We lose a piece of our collective soul.
Compassion in the Chaos
At Dale's Angels Inc., we talk a lot about compassion. Usually, that’s in the context of a great meal or a perfect cup of coffee. But compassion also applies to how we look at our neighbors. When we see maps that threaten to silence a specific part of our community, the compassionate response is to stand up and speak out.
It’s about making sure the "Future" we are redrawing is one where everyone has a seat. It’s about making sure John Lewis Way stands as a point of pride, not a symbol of irony.
So, as I finish this cup of Latin American Blend, I’m making a promise to stay vocal. I hope you’ll join me. Whether it’s by supporting local bookstores that keep our history alive or by calling your representatives to voice your concerns about the special session, every action counts.
Let’s keep the conversation going. Let’s keep the coffee hot and the books open. And let’s never stop getting into "Good Trouble."
Digital Realism & Aesthetic Direction. Rendered by our team. Orchestrated by Felicia. Section 31, TN Chapter.
AI assisted.
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