Anna Ryon is an attorney from Iowa who currently lives in Washington, D.C.

I live in Washington, D.C., and I don’t feel safe. Every time I leave home, I wonder if I’ll make it back. Before leaving, I turn off Face ID on my phone so no one can open it if they take it from me, write phone numbers in ink somewhere on my body, and make sure to turn on live location tracking so someone knows where I am at all times. Saturday afternoon before my husband and I went out, he texted his parents to tell them where we were going in case anything happened.

I got my first job in D.C. in 2007 and have lived and worked in D.C. on and off since then, so I feel pretty familiar with life in D.C. This level of fear is new. For most of my time in D.C., my safety concerns were the same basic safety concerns I’d have in any city, including Des Moines. I felt comfortable wearing earbuds while walking alone and openly carrying my iPhone. The extra fear I now feel for my safety has a specific starting date: Monday, August 11, 2025. 

Anna Ryon is a Des Moines attorney who practices in the field of utility consumer advocacy. Her experience includes nearly nine years of service at the Iowa Office of Consumer Advocate.

When Brenna Bird was elected attorney general, she took an oath to faithfully and impartially discharge the duties of her office, as state law requires. The official website of the Iowa Department of Justice describes the attorney general as “the state’s chief legal officer.” In that capacity, it is reasonable for Bird to know what duties she is required by law to discharge.

However, Bird’s record suggests she either does not understand all the duties the law requires her to discharge or has simply chosen not to fulfill some of those duties. Her failure to discharge the duties required by law has left Iowa landowners subject to unconstitutional eminent domain and their neighbors subject to the dangers of hazardous carbon dioxide pipelines without the legal representation they deserve.

Anna Ryon is a Democratic candidate for Congress in Iowa’s third district. -promoted by desmoinesdem

In the twenty years since I graduated from college, I’ve seen a lot more progress in the struggle for LGBTQ rights than I expected to see in such a short time. When I was young, I believed that I would see same-sex marriage become legal at some point in my lifetime, but I was thrilled, and very proud of my home state of Iowa, when in 2009 I was able to marry the woman with whom I had spent the previous ten years of my life.

Since then, many Pride events have felt like celebrations of what often seemed like an inevitable march forward on the path to full equality. But in the last couple of years things have changed.

Inspired by a recent profile focusing on demographics and election outcomes, a guest author with family roots in the area tells us more about the smallest Iowa county by population. -promoted by desmoinesdem

How do I explain Adams County to outsiders? It’s a place that is suspended between the past and the future. It’s a place where you are so close to your history that you can literally reach out and touch it, while simultaneously watching that legacy disappear. It’s a place filled with innovation yet steeped in tradition. It’s a place that’s excited about the future while mourning the past.

My experience in Adams County is pretty typical. When I go “home,” it’s to my grandparents’ house in Brooks. My grandparents have lived in the same house for 62 years. The old outhouse is still there. There is a propane tank next to the house for winter heat. As a child, I learned to turn off the water when shampooing and soaping during my shower, only using water to rinse off, in order to keep the well from running dry.