Brutally honest keynote lays out path for demoralized Democrats
"I'm not here to give some rah rah speech"
This original reporting and analysis first appeared at Bleeding Heartland and is shared here as part of the Iowa Writers Collaborative. For regular emails linking to all recent Bleeding Heartland articles and commentary, subscribe to the free Evening Heartland newsletter.
“A lot of you all know who I am because I experienced the worst day of my life on national TV,” former Capitol Police officer Harry Dunn told around 350 Democrats in Clear Lake on August 14.
The keynote speaker typically rallies the crowd at the Iowa Democratic Wing Ding, an annual fundraiser for county party organizations across northern Iowa. Dunn held the room’s attention for more than 30 minutes, drawing plenty of applause—as well as laughs with zingers about President Donald Trump, U.S. Senators Joni Ernst and Chuck Grassley, and Republicans in general.
But Dunn warned his audience early on, “I’m not here to give some rah rah speech.” He delivered some of his most powerful lines in a subdued voice.
By speaking candidly about his own struggles and doubts, Dunn offered a path forward—not only for Democrats who are ready to fight back, but for those still trying to pick themselves up off the floor.
“THINK ABOUT YOUR WORST DAY OF YOUR LIFE”
Speaking out for holding the January 6 insurrectionists accountable has made Dunn a target for MAGA fanatics. Soon after taking the stage at the historic Surf Ballroom, he alluded to his lingering trauma from the attack on the U.S. Capitol and its aftermath. Music helps him cope, so he read some inspiring lyrics from Whitney Houston’s song “The Greatest Love of All.” (“I decided long ago never to walk in anyone’s shadows. If I fail, if I succeed, at least I lived as I believe. No matter what they take from me, they can’t take away my dignity.”)
Mimicking the posture and intonation of a candidate, Dunn then declared, “I am here in Iowa at the Wing Ding to announce—that I am still pissed off.”
“Like I said, I experienced the worst day of my life on national TV,” he repeated. “Think about your worst day of your life,” he suggested. “Now, that worst day of your life—imagine somebody telling you it didn’t exist. ‘Hey, you’re overreacting, it wasn’t that bad.'”
Adding to the insult, those who stormed the Capitol have since received a blanket pardon. Some have landed jobs in the Justice Department.
“I wish that y’all didn’t know who I am,” Dunn said. He would rather not have the notoriety. And while he came to the Wing Ding “to provide a message of hope and resiliency,” he didn’t pretend to have left his anger behind.
“WE ARE NOT IN NORMAL DAYS RIGHT NOW”
Dunn was a Capitol Police officer for more than fifteen years before the January 6 events prompted him to quit, four years short of a full pension. (Reacting to gasps and “ooohs” from the audience, he joked, “Y’all should have heard my mom: ‘You did what?'”)
I’ve never heard a speaker drop so many f-bombs at an Iowa Democratic event. Dunn knew the obscenities might cause offense: “I’m sorry for the four-letter words. I’m upset.”
I didn’t perceive that the outbursts bothered the Wing Ding crowd. Trump’s lies about the 2020 election have lost their capacity to shock. But when you think about it, we should remain outraged that a president and his followers tried to subvert the peaceful transfer of power after a free and fair election.
Many politicians talk about bringing people together to heal our political divides. Dunn made clear he’s not about being “joyful” or “kumbaya”: “I don’t want to reach across the aisle.”
He acknowledged we need that approach “in normal times,” but “We are not in normal days right now.” I saw many in the room nodding or agreeing out loud.
Dunn is convinced the country needs politicians willing to “stand up and fight for people,” because our institutions—and voters—have let us down.
“AMERICA SHOWED US WHO WE REALLY ARE”
Dunn has long believed in public service, which influenced his decision to become a police officer. After January 6, he thought Trump would not be able to return to power. But he learned our institutions “are only as strong as the people who make them up.”
The House of Representatives did its job by impeaching Trump for a second time, but “the institution of the Senate failed us.” To be more precise: “They failed me. I deserved better. We all did, let’s be clear, we all did. But I’m talking about me right now.”
The U.S. Supreme Court—”a f*cking failed institution right there”—then made the president “a king” by saying Trump has immunity for all of his official acts as president.
Even after that immunity ruling, Dunn believed Americans would “hold Donald Trump accountable at the ballot box.” He campaigned “my ass off” for Democratic presidential nominee Kamala Harris, making multiple stops in all of the swing states.
The election result was a shock to the system. “I’ve struggled with saying this,” Dunn admitted. “November the fifth, America showed us who we really are. Tough pill to swallow.”
My own conversations with Democrats have convinced me of what many other commentators have observed: Trump’s popular vote victory and sweep of the 2024 swing states were much more depressing than his 2016 win, which could be viewed as a fluke of our electoral college system.
Although the presidential election result left Dunn feeling that in some ways, “America sucks,” he’s not giving into despair. “We as a nation showed who we were by electing him. I believe we can do so much better.”
At that point, I expected to hear the keynote speaker’s take on how Trump won over so many voters, and how Democrats can turn things around before the next election.
Instead, Dunn turned inward.
“I DON’T WANT TO HEAL”
Political speakers often tell us what they believe, what they know, what they think. But they rarely reflect on why they feel a certain way.
“I talk about mental health a lot, because I’m f*cked up,” Dunn told the crowd. “It’s funny, right? But it’s real.” (“We all are,” a voice rang out.)
“I am miserable,” Dunn went on. “I am miserable. I am injured, but not defeated. We’re all a little bit injured right now, but we’re not defeated.” (Audible sounds of agreement.)
A moment later, he shared a deeper insight. “I told my therapist, ‘I don’t want to heal.’ Crazy, right? Who the hell doesn’t want to get better? The fire, the passion that I have right now is strictly tied to what I went through on January 6, and it continues to be fueled by what is continuing to happen right now.”
I can’t recall hearing any public figure demonstrate such self-awareness. There was more: “And I am afraid—can I be vulnerable with y’all? I’m afraid that if I heal, I’ll lose this passion, this fire that I have. I’ll say no, I don’t want to come to Iowa. I’m good, I’m going to sit on my couch.”
The ballroom was quiet.
More than anything else, that part of Dunn’s remarks hit home for me. My work “documenting the atrocities” of Iowa politics sometimes leaves me feeling overwhelmed, especially during the legislative session. I’ve wondered: should I try to put more mental space between myself and these devastating stories? If I could get more emotional distance, would I be as motivated to cover life-ruining bills and their impact on Iowans?
Having talked with Democratic activists across the state this year, I sense that many are feeling burned out or struggling to strike a balance.
“WE NEED EVERYBODY TO DO SOMETHING”
Dunn had concrete advice for those seeking to preserve their mental health while staying in the fight.
“We need everybody to do something. The world, the Earth is on fire right now, and I’m not talking about climate change,” he said, before making the crowd laugh at Trump’s weird hostility to wind turbines. Getting back on track: “The world’s on fire right now, and that’s kind of what they want. They want everybody to be all over the place.”
He gave the audience a “call to action” by reminding them of the many communities “under attack right now”: LGBTQ people, immigrants, Black people, those who depend on safety net programs, veterans, homeless people, educators, “the list goes on and on.”
Dunn urged Democrats to “Find one thing, one thing that you’re passionate about, that you can be helpful in doing. Give that your effort, give that your energy. Don’t try to fix everything.”
I found it refreshing that Dunn didn’t offer false certainty we can fix the mess our country is in: “I’m not here to gaslight people and tell you everything is going to be OK. I don’t know.” On the other hand, “if we do nothing, it won’t be OK.”
While lot of communities in the U.S. “are under attack right now,” Dunn closed out his speech with thoughts about people facing more visible deadly threats on a daily basis.
“WE COULD LEARN A LOT” FROM UKRAINIANS
In May, Dunn spent a week in Kyiv, the Ukrainian capital. He was part of a convoy delivering vehicles, drone components, laptops, and money. He even donated blood.
Despite being a “pretty tough guy,” he found the air raid sirens terrifying. Meanwhile, Ukrainians were walking around, going about their business. “Are y’all just used to it?” he asked. People told him, “No no no, you never get used to it. We are defiant.”
Seeing people eating in restaurants or kids walking to school, Dunn was amazed. “We’re in a war zone, y’all. Do you all not know what’s going on?”
He was told, “We refuse to let this person dictate how we are going to live our lives.”
Dunn found that message “so strong and powerful,” and believes “We could learn a lot” from Ukrainians’ example.
Politicians may not always stand up when they know something’s wrong—”I’m looking at you, Joni Ernst.” But at the Wing Ding, Dunn saw “a room full of people that will stand up for what’s right.” We may not be perfect, but “we care about each other. We care about people.”
I would guess Dunn’s keynote inspired many attendees to follow their passion and find one way to make a difference.
Final note: You can watch all of the August 14 speeches on the Iowa Democratic Wing Ding’s YouTube channel. I’ve cued up this video to the beginning of Harry Dunn’s remarks.
Inspirational in that it ISN’t Rah Rah—yes? It seems honest and raw. A doable call to action.
Thanks, Laura. I need to tell you, and others who write to report on what is happening, how much it is appreciated. It is hard for me to read on many days because it is so disturbing. I can only imagine being present and doing the writing. What you do is a great service. Thank you.
Laura, your one thing is downright amazing. Keep telling these powerful stories and doing your incredible research. Proud to be a paid supporter of Bleeding Heartland.