The streets were barely empty after May Day—and already, the machinery shifted gears. Far-left nonprofits didn’t pause for breath. They turned from protest to power, from marches to ballots, with a single target in mind: the November midterms.
Behind closed digital doors, a coalition called “May Day Strong” hosted a webinar that felt less like a rally and more like a war room. The message was clear: push the Democratic Party further left—or push past it entirely.
Front and center stood the Working Families Party. This isn’t some fringe club. It’s a political beast with a $2 billion network of 600 groups, orchestrating thousands of events across the country. And it’s not shy about its ambitions.
In 730 races across 19 states, the party has stamped its endorsements—from U.S. Senate seats down to the Wauwatosa School Board in Wisconsin. No office is too small, no battlefield too local.
During that Tuesday night webinar, Maurice “Moe” Mitchell, the party’s national director, didn’t mince words. “We’re going to organize our communities and build working class power at the ballot box,” he declared. The phrase “ballot box” echoed like a battle cry through every speaker’s lips.
The call featured movement strategists, union presidents, and activists—all walking a legal tightrope. Many represented nonprofits that face strict limits on political work. Yet the conversation was drenched in electoral strategy: voting rights, redistricting, canvassing, candidate support.
“This election cannot be stolen,” insisted one moderator, Ash-Lee Woodard Henderson. Not because of lawsuits or protests—but because of overwhelming support at the polls. The plan, she explained, was to organize toward an “expansion of democracy.”
Outside the room, alarms are ringing. Jon Reid, a Republican who lost a Virginia race to a Working Families-backed candidate, warned that this isn’t college kids reading Marx anymore. “There are organized groups with a plan to execute a takeover of America, city by city,” he said.
The Working Families Party doesn’t wear a socialist label—it calls itself “a multiracial party of the working class.” But its platform reads like a socialist wish list: free universal healthcare, higher minimum wages, free college, and relentless attacks on “the rich” and capitalism. It endorses openly socialist candidates.
Bernie Sanders, a Democratic Socialist himself, once called the Working Families Party “the closest thing there is to a political party that believes in my vision of democratic socialism.”
New York dominates the endorsement map—393 candidates deep, including Zohran Mamdani for mayor, Letitia James for attorney general, and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez for Congress. California follows with 89 endorsements, Oregon with 48, Wisconsin with 38, Colorado with 35.
The party claims to have elected “progressive champions” like Maxwell Frost and Greg Casar. And in late April, Mitchell stood beside those same congressmembers in front of the U.S. Capitol, cameras flashing, alliances clear.
But here’s the twist: the Working Families Party uses the Democratic Party as a vehicle while openly attacking it. “The Democratic Party is trying to tank a Working Families Party candidate,” the group posted online, calling the establishment’s moves “shenanigans.”
This isn’t just advocacy—it’s a political machine with serious money. Between January and March 2025 alone, the party raised over $12.5 million. Its sister 501(c)(4) nonprofit pulled in $54.3 million in 2024. And it funnels donations through ActBlue, currently under Justice Department investigation for alleged improprieties.
The structure is strategic. Unlike single-issue nonprofits, the Working Families Party is built for elections—campaigns, candidates, and control. It can donate directly, endorse officially, and push its agenda without breaking the law.
Mitchell closed the webinar with a promise that felt more like a warning: “May Day wasn't the end. This is just the beginning. We’re getting started.”
