Nominated by: Chris Smalls, co-founder of the Amazon Labor Union
Age: 30
Location: San Diego
As a full-time political organizer for Service Employees International Union-United Healthcare Workers West (SEIU-UHW), Leila Khader helps represent more than 120,000 healthcare workers and patients in California, a fight she took international with the outbreak of war in Gaza.
“I’m proud to nominate Leila Khader, the daughter of immigrants from Iran and Palestine, who leads with both discipline and heart. In California, she has helped deliver real wins for working people, from raising wages for healthcare workers to protecting abortion rights and the fundamental right to marry. Her work sits at the intersection of labor rights and human rights, from California to Gaza, she brings a global understanding of solidarity into every campaign she touches.
What sets her apart is not just the victories. It is how she organizes when the pressure is real. When leadership told her to pull back, she leaned in. She built coalitions, educated members, counted votes, and stayed steady when it would have been easier to stay quiet. That kind of courage does not come from ego. It comes from conviction. She understands that solidarity cannot be selective and that local labor does not need permission to stand on principle. Our movement is stronger because of organizers like her.” —Chris Smalls
Chris Smalls: You organize at the intersection of labor rights, electoral politics, and international human rights. How do you decide when to move inside institutions and when to challenge them?
Leila Khader: I think about that choice strategically. Institutions, whether unions, governments, or international bodies, are tools. I work inside institutions when there is a real pathway to shift policy or resources, when allies are in place, and when their legitimacy depends on public trust, using that leverage to push policies to reflect societal values. I challenge institutions when they are unresponsive, captured by powerful interests, or when staying quiet would mean key voices aren’t at the table. In practice, I’ve seen the two approaches work together. External organizing, whether it is workers, voters, or communities, creates pressure that makes institutional engagement meaningful. Institutional wins, from strong contracts to minimum wage increases, can reinforce movements by delivering real services and support.
Smalls: You have been willing to publicly challenge leadership when you believed the moment required it. How do you prepare members to withstand institutional pressure without fracturing unity?
Khader: Pressure from leadership only fractures unity when members aren’t prepared for it. Preparation starts with political education and a shared understanding of why the work matters. When people see how their struggles are connected, solidarity becomes real. In the labor movement, we say, “An injury to one is an injury to all,” and that principle guides how we organize. Members learn that defending each other strengthens the movement not just in their own chapters, but across unions, and ideally, across borders.
I try to build that sense of ownership early, so people see themselves not just as participants, but as leaders. When solidarity is real, and leadership is shared, institutions have a much harder time dividing us. History shows that the most powerful movements grow from the bottom up, and it’s that shared ownership that helps movements stay united and resilient under pressure.
Smalls: In the effort to pass the resolution supporting healthcare workers in Gaza, what shifted members from sympathy to disciplined action?
Khader: What shifted members from sympathy to disciplined action was a collective understanding of the severity of the healthcare crisis in Gaza. Our members already know the reality of overworked healthcare workers in their own hospitals and fight every day for better conditions. I was the first in our organization to vocalize the connection between what we fight for locally and what healthcare workers in Gaza were facing. Once that connection was made, members began to see that the struggle for safe patient care does not stop at borders.
When they learned that hospitals in Gaza were being bombed, patients were dying without access to care, and healthcare workers were being killed while trying to treat the wounded, the crisis became immediate and undeniable. They understood that forced evacuations placed vulnerable patients at immediate risk, effectively a death sentence for those needing intensive and lifesaving care. For healthcare workers, empathy has never been enough to meet the moment. Their commitment to patient care and their belief in collective action made it clear that remaining empathetic was not enough. They had a responsibility to act.
Smalls: As the daughter of immigrants from Iran and Palestine, how has your background shaped the way you understand solidarity and responsibility inside the labor movement?
Khader: As a young girl visiting the West Bank to meet relatives and see my Baba’s home, I also had my first glimpse of the realities of occupation. Watching Palestinians stand strong together, even under unimaginable conditions, showed me that resilience is in my bloodline. I saw my Iranian mother advocate for Palestinians to soldiers directly, and though she was met with a gun pointed at her head, she did not waver. Risking her life, she taught me solidarity is about more than words—it is about resilience, mutual responsibility, and persistence.
Being the child of immigrants also meant growing up without extended family nearby, so community was something we had to build intentionally. In many ways, we created our own. In the labor movement, I see this same principle at work when workers organize not just for themselves, but for the collective well-being of their colleagues and communities. My background offers a constant reminder that our struggles and freedoms are deeply connected.
Smalls: Many people say solidarity is important, but you argue it cannot be conditional. What does unconditional solidarity look like in practice?
Khader: For me, unconditional solidarity means stepping beyond the comfort of focusing on a single issue. When we care about something, it is easy to feel like an expert in our own understanding, and often our solidarity only extends as far as that issue. The uncomfortable part is reaching beyond it, uncovering the intersections between struggles. That work is risky, new, and requires learning, growing, and listening. It evolves into collective understanding, power, and ultimately unconditional solidarity. In practice, it means putting the needs of others on equal footing with our own, even when it is inconvenient or challenging.
Though I am not a healthcare worker myself, I represent them and know firsthand how vital their work is. I understood I could not build support for healthcare workers at home without also speaking out about the healthcare crisis in Gaza, where hospitals, workers, and systems were intentionally destroyed. That is what unconditional solidarity looks like, not just acting locally but extending support globally and across issues. I recognize my own privilege and step in to amplify struggles everywhere, even when they are not my own.
This feature is part of CULTURED’s 2026 Young Activists list, spotlighting those around the country working to champion the causes closest to them. Each is nominated and interviewed by a leader in their field. You can read their features here.
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