Pete Buttigieg kissing his husband Chasten before suspending his campaign for the Democratic nomination.

When a YouTube algorithm served me Pete Buttigieg’s announcement speech I was lazily sunbathing on the Tuscan coast. It was late August and I had been watching yet another Italian government crumble to its feet. By that time I only knew Pete as one of the twenty-something candidates in the Democratic primary. I had not even bothered to research him because I didn’t think he would stand a chance. There was no way a no-name guy could make it through the political fire of congressmen, senators and a former vice president. But as soon as I heard him speak, everything changed. It was not a political awakening — I had already campaigned and volunteered for my mayor and for my party in Italy. It was something more profound. All of a sudden I realized that I didn’t need to settle for the lesser evil anymore: I had found someone who embodied my vision of politics, one that I had been mocked and belittled for believing in. Pete resurrected a conception of politics that had been left for dead — politics as serving others, politics as putting the good of the country before your own, politics as soulcraft.

Pete’s campaign proved that you don’t have to shout to make yourself heard; it proved that kindness and compassion go a long way, a much longer way than violence and hatred; it proved that there is still space for values like the Rules Of The Road. The Rules Of The Road are one of the reasons that propelled me to get involved with Pete For America. One in particular struck me deeper that the others: belonging. We live in times defined by identity politics, and my political formation itself was shaped and characterized by the rejection of this vision. Identity politics is being used by people around the world to mark other human beings as «less than», to exclude, to otherize. The fact that a politician had the guts to say to his country and to the world that «we could also see in our identity the beginning of a new form of […] solidarity» made it clear to me that that politician was not like the others.

Pete is not like the others. To those who still hadn’t understood it, it became evident the night he dropped out, the night he decided to sacrifice his campaign by putting country over party and party over self. It was a selfless choice, one that — let’s be honest — arguably nobody else would have made. On March 1st 2020, Pete Buttigieg saved the Democratic party from a let’s-burn-everything-down revolution and America from the certain re-election of Donald Trump. He could have waited. He could have played the delegates game until the end but he understood that it was time to step aside and save the day. The youngest candidate once again proved to be the only adult in the room, hence making the most mature decision in the name of the «greater good». The youngest candidate once again proved to be a true leader.

«Leadership is about what you draw out of people. It’s about how you inspire people to act», said Pete Buttigieg during the Nevada Democratic debate, and in every aspect of his campaign he has drawn the best out of his supporters. When I started text banking for Pete I was compelled to strive to be my best self, to never judge too fast and to respond to insults with kindness. As the true leader he is, Pete elicited the best from me. In addition to dealing with die hard Trump supporters, I had the chance to witness how the campaign had changed people’s lives. The stories of Team Pete are stories of different people coming together to fight for a new era defined by belonging. They are the stories of kids coming out of the closet just because Pete was there, just because Pete was running; they are the stories of black women who saw in the Douglass plan a hope for the future of their children; they are the stories of war veterans whose struggles had been dismissed and overlooked for years. They are our stories. The way Pete embraced and changed these stories in making them part of his campaign shows the sheer power of a message and the extent to which it can impact our lives.

Pete Buttigieg hugs his husband Chasten after winning the Iowa Caucuses. It was the first victory for an openly gay man in a primary contest.

This is the kind of politics I believe in, this is the kind of politics I am willing to fight for. Because of Pete’s 2020 presidential bid, a new generation of kind, compassionate politicians of integrity will arise. A new generation of voters will go to the polls knowing that there is someone out there who is telling them «I see you, you belong here». A new generation of LGBTQ kids will grow up looking up to Pete and Chasten and to their trailblazing courage. Yes, Pete and Chasten have been — are — a historic first. Their picture on the cover of Time, their hugs on stage, their kiss before the concession speech, Pete’s struggles with his sexuality, Chasten’s painful story, their mutual and endless shoutouts, have forever broken an invisible barrier.

I am beyond grateful that on a summer day I took the time to watch that 40-minute video. I am beyond grateful that I was able to help the campaign even from thousands of miles away. I am beyond grateful for the wounderful people I met along the way, especially the amazing International Team Pete. I am beyond grateful for every sleepless night spent watching town halls and debates, for every text I sent, for every discussion I had on Twitter. When Pete announced he was suspending his campaign, I cried. I was genuinely heartbroken for the thousands of supporters, volunteers, staffers, for Pete and Chasten. But as the concession speech ended and Pete and Chasten hugged to thunderous applause, I looked at the Rules Of The Road pinned to my wall. That moment I knew that Pete’s message would survive the end of this campaign and shape politics for decades to come. If (or, more likely, when) he runs again, I will fly to the United States to text every person, make every call, knock on ever door. Having people like Pete and Chasten Buttigieg in the White House would truly change the world for the better. Until then, let’s all try to be a little more like Pete and Chasten. This is their legacy. This is what happens when politics becomes soulcraft.