Between inflation and federal cuts, the working class is being squeezed, and Washington’s regressive tax structure isn’t helping.

It's clear no one is coming to save us. But you know who can? Us.

My name is Dusti Arab, and I'm running for Clark County Council, District 1. 

As a Millenial who graduated straight into the Great Recession, the moment we’re in now rhymes with what I experienced back then.

I grew up experiencing housing instability, left home at 16, and pieced together college as a young single parent on SNAP, Pell Grants, and WIC while leaving a domestic violence situation. Couldn't find a job that paid enough to live on, couldn't afford childcare, couldn’t find the stability I dreamed of no matter how hard I worked or pulled on those secondhand bootstraps.

Now, my oldest is getting ready to graduate, and they’re looking at worse conditions than I was back when they were born.

I know what it's like to struggle in the face of circumstances you can't control and an economy that seems to never be on your side. I know what it feels like to make impossible trade-offs. 

And I know how many families are being forced to make those trade-offs right now.

How I got here

From the moment Trump was re-elected, I could see the writing on the wall. Project 2025 was clear and awful, and I knew people would go hungry. But I kept thinking about something I picked up while I was still on SNAP - the fact that you can use your benefits to buy seeds and edible plant starts.

And I wondered who else didn't know that. I thought about my great-grandparents, who grew and preserved enough food to feed our entire extended family for years after they were gone - who left behind boxes of notes from grateful neighbors who'd gotten produce from their free farm stand.

On the heels of a heavy December and the depression that came with it came the inauguration, and with it a clarity that wouldn't let me go: plant something.

So I found the biggest greenhouse I could fit in my backyard and started planting every seed I could get my hands on.

That impulse became Hearth & Hollow, my micronursery in SE Vancouver, where I grow edible plant starts and sell them at the Vancouver Farmers Market specifically because it means I can accept SNAP benefits.

It was a step in the right direction. I was feeling my way into what Hearth & Hollow could be, teaching classes to help people get started growing food, moving out of my 15-year career in digital marketing into this new direction, determined to create an impact in the community.

But I still had this nagging question in the back of my head: am I doing enough?

I was contributing to free fridges, volunteering with organizations that fed people, doing the mutual aid work I believe in. I even created a food access guide for Clark County before SNAP temporarily lost funding last fall.

But with national news becoming increasingly dire and what was unfolding in Minneapolis, it felt like I was being pulled to do more, even though I wasn't quite sure what that looked like.

I'd been getting more involved with the local farming community, and while I met so many people doing incredible things, the picture I was getting was grim. Federal cuts were already hitting small farms hard: USDA slashed funding, eliminated the local food programs that had connected small farms to schools and food banks, and made inputs more expensive through tariffs. 

That's what made the 2045 Comprehensive Plan so critical. It's Clark County's long-term roadmap for land use and growth, and for farmers already dealing with federal cuts and rising costs, it was the one local decision that could either offer some protection or make everything worse.

In April 2026, I watched the county council vote 3-2 to expand the Urban Growth Boundary by a thousand acres, overriding their own environmental studies, dismissing the Agricultural Advisory Commission, and ignoring overwhelming public testimony to pave over hundreds of acres of prime farmland. The deciding vote? My district’s representative - a developer working for developers.

It was the last straw.

For a long time, I told myself I could have more of an impact outside of government than in it. I no longer believe that.

Since that vote, I've had the privilege of becoming more deeply woven into this community than I ever expected, and I am so grateful for everyone who has welcomed me in.

There is so much worth fighting for in Clark County, and it’s going to take all of us. With your help, I know we can create a community where all of us are safe, welcome, and have what we need.

Thank you for being here, and I hope you’ll consider voting for me.