Hanging on by a Thread of Hope

By Heide Lambert, Mayor of Waldport, Oregon

In a small coastal town of 2,000 people, you wouldn’t expect to see the forces tearing apart our democracy so clearly. And yet, Waldport, Oregon has become a case study in how power, fear, and disinformation corrode civic life—at the local level and far beyond.

Since being elected to a two-year volunteer term as mayor, our town has made national news more than once. First, when the city manager and council unconstitutionally expelled me less than three months into my term. Then, when residents united to stop ICE from housing agents in a rundown hotel. Most recently, we mourned the loss of County Commissioner Claire Hall, whose body succumbed after enduring relentless bullying tied to a recall effort.

I write because the misdirected hate in my county mirrors a much larger crisis—and it has shaken my faith in the systems meant to protect us.

Since becoming an elected official, I have encountered hostility I never imagined would accompany public service. A smear campaign, driven by city leadership, made me question whether running for office was worth the cost. What I have learned is this: it doesn’t take a mob to undermine democracy. It takes a few people with power and no accountability.

As I watch national news of war initiated by the directive of a single man, I recognize the same pattern playing out locally and across the country. Corruption is no longer treated as a crime. Norms once considered foundational—truth, restraint, decency—are dismissed as inconveniences. This is not what freedom looks like, nor what our Constitution was written to allow.

Because I was not the mayor city staff and council wanted, my leadership has faced ongoing resistance. For over a year, they have refused to recognize my role and have used their authority to undermine my credibility, promoting narratives presented as truth regardless of fact.

The democracy I was raised to believe in depended on checks and balances, due process, and ethical leadership. Those values feel eroded. The worst behavior is no longer condemned—it is rewarded. We openly shame one another over politics, religion, race, gender, and sexuality, while the influence of money tightens its grip from the smallest towns to the highest offices.

I never expected this level of scrutiny for volunteering to serve my community. I ran to contribute years of experience managing complex projects with limited resources and collaborating across differences. I currently work with specialists in trauma and neurobiology, helping train justice system professionals across Oregon to recognize trauma so they do not cause further harm. The irony is painful: my civic role has placed me in a constant state of being targeted.

I use every coping skill I have ever taught to stay steady while city leadership uses my existence as a distraction from their own misconduct. Appeals for oversight have gone nowhere. Those with authority prefer the status quo—and in doing so, allow harm to continue.

I once believed my candidacy could show others that anyone could step into leadership. Now I am less certain. Fear of losing power and money has silenced residents and intimidated those who ask questions. We live in a media desert, without local journalism to verify facts, leaving social media distortions to fill the void.

Each month I wait for clarity, yet things continue to worsen. It feels like a witch hunt, as my brown, queer, and trans community lives in fear. The strain of never knowing if you are safe seeps into bodies, minds, and relationships. Sitting with loved ones in that space takes quiet strength.

I was elected not because I sought power, but because a majority of voters asked me to serve. Although a recall effort is underway, I refuse to let a small, disgruntled group dictate how I show up. I will continue to serve with integrity, transparency, and a commitment to the whole community.

Democracy does not collapse all at once. It erodes through silence, intimidation, and our willingness to accept what we know is wrong. We are being harmed together—and only together will we overcome it.

We are all hanging on by a thread of hope. And the more we keep showing up for one another, the stronger that thread becomes.