A STUDENT'S VIEW - I am young enough to have grown up hearing that my generation should care about government, get involved, speak up, and believe that public service makes a difference. But watching California politics has taught me a hard truth: participation is only half of democracy. The other half is accountability.
As a young Jewish student, I was raised to understand that true leadership isn't measured by the size of your office, the title on your door, or how many people stand when you enter a room. Leadership is measured solely by responsibility.
That is the standard Californians must apply to Senate President Pro Tem Monique Limón and to every official entrusted with power in Sacramento.
Limón holds one of the most consequential seats in state government. As leader of the Senate, she controls which ideas advance, which compromises survive, and how one of the world's largest economies responds to nearly 40 million citizens. Yet her tenure raises a broader, urgent question: What should we actually demand from those who govern us?
We should expect leaders who listen, challenge powerful interests, break rank with their own party when necessary, and remember that behind every bill number, budget line, and late-night Capitol deal are real people forced to live with the consequences.
Human Realities in the Policy Machine
Consider California’s recurring wildfire debate. In Sacramento committee rooms, wildfire liability boils down to cold metrics: utilities, insurance subrogation, legal standards, and billions in exposure. But to a family watching their home burn, it means something entirely different.
It is the irreplaceable family photo, the bedroom reduced to ash, the neighborhood lost forever, and years of bureaucratic warfare to rebuild a life.
When Senate negotiators under Limón resisted proposed liability changes that wildfire survivors feared would undermine their recovery, the compromise stalled. That outcome highlights an uncomfortable reality about governance: legislation fails, negotiations collapse, and leaders walk away empty-handed. When the dust settles, the only metric that matters is which principles survived the fight.
That struggle reflects a cornerstone of my Jewish upbringing: tzedek, tzedek tirdof “Justice, justice, shall you pursue.” The repetition is intentional. Justice cannot simply be proclaimed in a press release; it must be pursued, questioned, and fought for again and again.
That principle becomes critical when government confronts historical trauma. In debates over extending statutes of limitations for survivors of child sexual abuse, public institutions faced crippling financial liabilities. Survivors argued that capping damages reduced their trauma to a figure arbitrarily chosen by the state.
Governments must protect taxpayer dollars, keep schools open, and maintain public services. But victims deserve to be heard. Serious leadership never pretends one side of that equation does not exist.
Beyond the Hashtags
This balance touches another fundamental principle: tikkun olam the obligation to repair the world. It is a phrase used frequently, often far too loosely.
Repairing the world is not accomplished through hashtags, speeches, or staged photo opportunities. True repair demands hard work:
· Confronting flawed programs: Asking whether state initiatives actually deliver results on the ground.
· Demanding financial transparency: Calling out key initiatives when billions are spent without moving the needle.
· Defending the vulnerable: Standing beside victims while demanding rigorous oversight of the institutions meant to protect them.
· Prioritizing public duty over partisan loyalty: Refusing to let party discipline override the public interest.
With single-party dominance in Sacramento where Governor Gavin Newsom, Limón, and legislative supermajorities share the same party banner internal independence is vital. A Legislature should never function as a rubber stamp for the executive branch. The Governor proposes, the Legislature scrutinizes, and the public judges. That tension isn't dysfunction; it is the core mechanism of a working republic.
A Standard for the Next Generation
Neither independence nor party alignment substitutes for tangible results. My generation is inheriting a state endowed with tremendous wealth, yet crippled by generational crises:
· Housing costs continue to price working families out of the state.
· Ranks of unhoused residents remain visible in every major community.
· Climate-driven wildfires threaten whole regions every single year.
· Essential public institutions face compounding fiscal strain.
Young Californians shouldn't be asked to trust government on faith. We should be invited to audit it. Show us where the money went. Show us what changed. Show us who benefited, who was overlooked, and what failed. And when a policy fails, tell us exactly what will be done differently next time.
That isn't cynicism. That is citizenship.
We don't need political heroes, and we don't need to be told that power makes someone important. We need to see that power makes someone accountable. In Jewish tradition, authority never eliminates obligation it increases it. The more power you possess, the greater your burden to use it justly.
Sacramento already has plenty of power. What California must demand is responsibility.
(Shoshannah Kalaydjian is a young Jewish student who writes about education, identity, and the challenges facing the next generation. Growing up in today’s climate, she has witnessed firsthand how rising antisemitism affects young people in classrooms and on college campuses. Shoshannah is committed to sharing the perspectives of Jewish youth, amplifying student voices, and encouraging leaders to create safer, more inclusive environments for all students.)
