Tucson’s Democratic Shift: A Grijalva’s Legacy vs. New Blood

For years, the 70-year-old Tucson resident faithfully supported Representative Raúl M. Grijalva, an unwavering progressive from Arizona. Even as he battled lung cancer, she backed him for a 12th term in Congress last November. Sadly, Mr. Grijalva passed away in March, becoming the second of three House Democrats to die this year—an unfortunate turn that further tightened the Republican Party’s already narrow grip on the House.

Now, just months after his passing, another Grijalva is on the ballot: his eldest daughter, Adelita Grijalva. She’s hoping to fill the congressional seat her father left behind, and she’s personally asked Ms. Torres for her vote in the Democratic primary on July 15.

But Ms. Torres isn’t convinced. “It’s like no one hears us anymore,” she said, visibly frustrated as she sat in her modest living room in Tucson’s south side, shielding herself from the intense desert sun.

Although Adelita Grijalva appears to have a solid chance of winning in a district that leans heavily Democratic—boasting endorsements from both of Arizona’s Democratic U.S. senators—she’s facing a growing wave of opposition. Several rivals are contending that it’s time for Arizona to embrace new leadership and fresh perspectives, rather than continuing a family legacy.

The special election in Arizona’s Seventh Congressional District is now shaping up to be more than just a local race. It’s a reflection of a national debate about the direction of the Democratic Party in the wake of its 2024 losses. The primary pits political continuity against generational change, and long-standing experience against rising energy.

At the heart of it all lies a deeper frustration—one aimed at aging Democratic leaders, including President Joe Biden and the late Representative Grijalva, who, critics argue, remained in power too long despite declining health. “What we need now is real change,” Ms. Torres insisted.

Adelita Grijalva, 54, is no newcomer to politics. She has served for years in local government in Tucson. Yet, to many voters like Ms. Torres, her candidacy symbolizes the stagnation of the Democratic establishment.

On the other end of the spectrum is Deja Foxx, a 25-year-old activist and online influencer known for her unapologetic calls for transformation. Foxx is using every opportunity to champion generational change and challenge the status quo. Another contender, Daniel Hernandez, a 35-year-old former state legislator, represents a centrist approach. He argues that in order to reclaim support from Hispanic men who backed Donald Trump in 2024, Democrats need to return to more moderate, relatable messaging.

Both challengers are hoping to tap into the same grassroots enthusiasm that helped outsider Zohran Mamdani pull off a surprising win in New York City’s Democratic primary earlier this year. “It’s time for a new kind of Democrat,” Foxx declared at a campaign stop, wrapping up a tour she named “Crashout or Congress,” a nod to her generation’s slang for burnout and breakdown.

Foxx’s campaign has become a social media phenomenon, driven by young, online-savvy supporters and viral TikTok videos. In them, she recounts her story of growing up on government assistance and working gas station jobs to get by—stories that have struck a chord with many voters.

Meanwhile, Hernandez critiques his party’s messaging, claiming Democrats have alienated Latino communities by focusing too much on cultural debates rather than addressing bread-and-butter economic concerns. He believes the party must move away from career politicians and familiar names if it hopes to rebuild its influence and credibility.

In 2011, Hernandez gained national attention for helping Representative Gabrielle Giffords after she was shot in a mass shooting in Tucson. However, he isn’t relying on that experience in his campaign. Instead, as he knocked on doors with his mother, he delivered a blunt message: “The same old thing isn’t going to work anymore.”

Despite these compelling narratives, the comparison to Mamdani’s campaign in New York has its limits. While Adelita Grijalva has a long record of public service—spanning roles on the school board and as a county supervisor—she’s no moderate placeholder like former New York Governor Andrew Cuomo. Instead, she’s campaigning as a proud progressive, boasting endorsements from left-wing heavyweights such as Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.

Her advantage also lies in long-established relationships. Labor unions and progressive organizations are working on her behalf, knocking on doors and phone banking for a race that’s likely to hinge on turnout in the middle of Arizona’s sweltering summer. And with the University of Arizona mostly empty for summer break, younger voters—Foxx’s core base—may be harder to mobilize.

Little public polling exists in the race, and political analysts in Arizona say turnout will likely determine the outcome. Still, they note a surprising level of anti-establishment sentiment among voters who’ve routinely supported the Grijalva name for over two decades.

Adelita is leaning into her father’s legacy, running her campaign from an office filled with personal tributes to him. His drawings, campaign memorabilia, and even custom bobbleheads with his distinctive facial hair fill the space. A weathered campaign sign bearing Raúl Grijalva’s name still hangs on the wall next to hers. “I haven’t been able to take it down,” she said softly.

According to Adelita, her father genuinely believed he would beat cancer and continue serving. His political journey began in the 1970s, advocating for underserved Latino communities in Tucson. Before his death, the two discussed the idea of her one day running for office—a common practice in American politics, where family members often inherit the mantle of public service.

She said calls urging her to run began pouring in even before her father’s funeral had been planned.

To critics who label her a product of nepotism, she pushes back firmly. Over the years, she says, she has worked diligently to address public safety, affordable housing, and education in Tucson. She only missed three school board meetings—and those were to give birth to her children.

“I’ve earned everything I have,” she said. “Nothing was handed to me.”

She also emphasized that her family’s progressive stance often put them at odds with establishment Democrats. Her father, as head of the Congressional Progressive Caucus, was known for his liberal positions and was one of the first in Congress to call on President Biden to step aside during the 2024 race.

“We’re not some elite dynasty,” she said. “We’re the Grijalvas.”

Still, challengers like Deja Foxx are gaining traction. David Garcia, a landscaper who leads a local community group called Barrio Restoration, says he supports Adelita because of her longstanding involvement. He first met her at a neighborhood cleanup and trusts her commitment.

“She shows up. She’s been raised by a leader, and she gets it,” he said. “As for those other candidates? Never heard of them.”

But that’s starting to change. Deja Foxx’s story has resonated deeply with people like Victoria Gonzalez, 26, who discovered Foxx’s campaign through TikTok. Foxx’s account has over 386,000 followers, and her videos, detailing her life of hardship and resilience, have reached millions.

Gonzalez, who juggles two jobs as a home health aide and sometimes relies on food donations, said she sees herself in Foxx. “She understands what it’s like to struggle,” Gonzalez said. “She’s young, she’s different, and she’s real.”

Last week, over a hundred enthusiastic supporters gathered in a Tucson cafe to hear Foxx speak. They shouted “Foxx for AZ!” as she livestreamed the event, energized by a flood of last-minute endorsements from young Democratic figures.

Still, supporters like Elizabeth Cohen, a nonprofit consultant, acknowledge the odds. “It’s an uphill battle,” she said. “But it’s also a wake-up call to Democratic leaders. The party needs new energy. It’s time for fresh blood.”