It's Time to Make Our Party Their Party

In 1984, as a South Philadelphia native and junior at St. Joseph’s University, I cast my first ballot for president – enthusiastically – for Ronald Reagan. My parents voted for him, too. Reagan was the first Republican presidential candidate for whom they had ever voted. My father was the son of Italian immigrants, and my mother was the granddaughter of Irish and German immigrants. They had always been Democrats.

My middle-class Catholic parents and their neighbors were not exactly the backbone of the GOP back in 1984. My parents remained registered Democrats. My father died in 1989 as a Democrat. My mother wouldn’t formally switch to the GOP until the 1990s.

Their resistance to registering as Republicans had less to do with policy differences than with a sense that they just weren’t Republicans. They didn’t fit in; they felt unwelcome.

My parents worked tirelessly so that I would be the first in our family to go to college. They believed in faith, family, hard work, and law and order, and they wanted their kids to be successful and to do better than they had.

I share my story to remind Republicans how our party grew under Reagan. To let our children’s generation know that college students were once the heart and soul of the GOP. To point out to GOP leaders that the effectiveness of our policies matters – but so does making sure that they apply to real people. We need to welcome new voters into our party. Elections are not a high school debate or a jury trial, with arguments and evidence presented and a verdict rendered. Voters want to know that elected officials and candidates care about people like them.

Many first- and second-generation Hispanic, Chinese, and Indian Americans think like Republicans and share Republican values, but they are not yet Republicans. Like my parents back in the day, many don’t see themselves as Republicans. Worse, many think that the GOP doesn’t want people like them. Democrats and the legacy media help reinforce that impression. Republicans have their work cut out for them to turn around this narrative.

In 2022, I ran for Congress in suburban Philadelphia. A cornerstone of my campaign was to go to almost every ethnic event – not just to win votes but to listen and learn. And learn I did.

I was invited to a “meet and greet” with Chinese Americans along Philadelphia’s Main Line. These people wanted me to understand the dangers of the government monitoring speech and punishing someone for his views. They wanted me to reassure them that I understood the importance of the First Amendment. One woman kept challenging me: “Do you really understand?” Would I fight for America? This is what they wanted to know.

I was invited to a Hindu service in northern Chester County. While waiting for its temple to be built, the congregation gathered and broke bread together in what seemed to be a retrofitted commercial building. Hundreds of Indian Americans – three and four generations – invited me to listen, learn, and share. It was both overwhelming and humbling. They invited me to speak: I talked about who I was and what motivated me to run. I was presented with gifts, prayers, and well wishes. After the service, I enjoyed a wonderful meal, and several among them asked to talk and take photos with me. They told me they were “honored” that a candidate for Congress came out to meet with them. Many shared with me – candidly, sheepishly – that they didn’t think that the GOP wanted them in our party. This was very troubling to them, and to me.

One Sunday afternoon when I was out knocking on doors in Reading with volunteers, one volunteer called and asked me to meet her at a storefront Christian church. The pastor had seen them canvassing and asked if I – the candidate – was in the area. I drove to the location, and the pastor “checked me over” while standing on the sidewalk.

He asked me about my views on education, family, and faith. He then invited me into his church, where nearly 100 people were singing and worshipping in Spanish. At the conclusion of the song, the pastor introduced me and explained who I was and that I was a “good family man.” (Some of my bilingual volunteers translated for me.)

The pastor then prayed over me – and invited the congregation to do the same. He hugged me, and they sang as I left their church. Again, I was deeply humbled by the visit.

Allow me to underscore what these events from my 2022 campaign taught me. I’m a middle-class white man who had taken leave from his Chester County Chamber position to run for Congress against an incumbent in a district with more Democrats than Republicans. I wasn’t a celebrity or a household name, especially in communities where English isn’t the primary language.

That these new Americans would welcome me underscores not merely their hospitality and civility but also their hunger for change – and perhaps, openness to becoming Republicans.

Many Pennsylvanians feel as though the American Dream is moving out of reach. That our children may not do better than we did. That we may not give them an America that is better, stronger, and safer than we found it.

First- and second-generation Americans from India, Pakistan, China, Vietnam, Mexico, and the Dominican Republic risked everything to come here. They want their children to do better. They feel the same anxiousness that we do.

They embody the Republican platform. They could provide the margin of victory for the GOP in 2024. But, like my parents in the 1980s, many don’t see themselves as Republicans. Worse, they don’t think that they’re welcome in the party.

We’ve won their minds with our ideas. “America” did that. Now it’s up to the GOP to open our hearts – and doors – and invite them in. In the suburbs, it’s the best path forward. If Republicans don’t do it, we’re committing political malpractice.

It’s time to make our party their party.

Guy Ciarrocchi is a senior fellow with the Commonwealth Foundation. He writes for RealClearPennsylvania and Broad+Liberty. Follow him at @PaSuburbsGuy.