Yesterday was a mix of emotions.

As I parked to join a “pre-game” rally in my small town, people gathering to take the train into Philly, I heard the noise before I saw it. Rounding the corner, the size of the crowd struck me. Over 600 people (a very rough estimate) were lining the main street and courtyard, cheering, chanting. People of all kinds: Black, brown, white, old, young, disabled, LGBTQIA+.

Tears welled up in my eyes.

I’ve been living in survival mode during this administration. People close to me are being targeted, denied their existence. Research that could help loved ones has been canceled. My immigrant students are afraid. It’s personal. So to see this crowd, to feel the energy of people showing up to protect democracy? It was beautiful. It was energizing.

Protests, rallies, and awareness marches aren’t new to me. My first was the AIDS Walk in 1993, when I was a junior in high school. Back then, AIDS was still widely stigmatized as “that gay disease,” and queerness was far more “othered” than it is today. Every step of that walk felt purposeful—a balance between hope and mourning. I participated for years, and it always felt the same: brutally sad, yet somehow hopeful.

Yesterday felt like that.

I cried tears of joy when I saw the crowd out of pure optimism. And I cried tears of sadness and fear when I heard about the political assassinations in Minnesota.

Every step felt like an oxymoron: pride in what we were demonstrating, in our numbers, in using our voices against madness, and also profound sorrow. Sorrow that we’re slipping toward totalitarianism. Sorrow for those close to me who didn’t come out to demonstrate with me, for understandable, legitimate fear. Sorrow for those living a brutal nightmare under this government.

I was devastated. And I was hopeful.

And then I learned we did it: 12.1 million people participated. That’s 3.5% of the U.S. population. This is the threshold researchers say is needed for a government to be forced to respond.

The message is clear: people are standing up for our Constitution, for democracy, and against the very real threats facing both. People are rising. I spoke with conservatives at our small-town rally, people who’ve never protested before, but showed up because what’s happening is too dangerous to ignore.

And yet…

If you know me, you know I actively seek out criticism of both myself and of movements I’m part of. I listen. I don’t get defensive (unless it’s wildly off-base or hypocritical). Growth comes from grappling with discomfort. We can take what’s useful, discard what isn’t, and clarify our values.

So a few days before No Kings Day, I started reading critiques:

That this wasn’t really a protest, but a rally.
That real protests disrupt. They inconvenience, they’re not permitted, they’re reactive and organic, they interrupt the flow of money.

Rallies and demonstrations have value in community, visibility, a show of numbers—but they’re not disruption.

And then I saw the man at No Kings Day. Standing still in a moving crowd, holding a sign he flipped back and forth. One side read, “Mass protests don’t work.” The other: “Until you disrupt the flow of money.”

These criticisms are valid. Like it or not, we live in a capitalist system. Money talks. Without general strikes, without halting commerce, without disrupting the money pipeline into politics, change is slow.

There’s another critique: that this was just another example of our influencer culture. That our clever signs were designed for Instagram. That this was performative, whitewashed. That while fascism is on the march, while people are dying and losing their freedoms, we’re marching and feeling good about ourselves. That the demonstration yesterday lacked the seriousness to really meet the reality of the situation.

And I wrestle with that, too.

Much of this doesn’t feel like enough. The crowd came together out of shared anger and concern, but the march itself felt… celebratory. Lighter than the moment demands.

But there was value in it. No Kings Day got people engaged. People showed up. Many overcame fear, especially those participating for the first time. They took that step, even as warnings about ICE, police, counter-protesters swirled.

That matters.

Still, the criticism is necessary. We need to become more nimble. We need to act quickly in response to shifting conditions. We can’t rely solely on weeks-long planning for permitted actions.

We need to escalate. To disrupt, not with violence, but by halting the flow of money and business as usual. That’s what puts pressure on those in power, from corporations to elected officials.

We have a choice right now.

We can celebrate that we did it. Or we can say: this was step one.

We will fail if we stay in this moment. If most of us don’t stay involved. If we don’t evolve. If we don’t push ourselves to do the next uncomfortable thing this moment demands.

Because fascism is on the rise.
People’s lives are being upended.
Political assassinations and attempts are happening.
Rights are being stripped.

Stay involved.
Stay angry.
Stay engaged.
Get comfortable being uncomfortable.

The future depends on it.

(More on actions you can take in a future post.)

This past week I have been ruminating on how to meet the moment, how to begin to begin. This past month, like many of us, I have been sitting wide-eyed, mouth agape, in anxiety, in concern, even fear. But for those that know me in person, you know that I can’t sit in that space for long. I shift my focus from focusing on what is out of my control, to what is in my control.

And to be honest, not knowing how to begin never stopped me. All I need is the audacity to start, and I figure it out along the way.

We could ask alot of questions: What is the point of the chaos? How in the world does *insert decision here* serve them? Is cruelty the point? How did we get here? Why?

They have sown enough fear to leave the majority of us in a perpetual state of paralysis. That is the point. To make us feel like this is happening to us, to make us feel like we have no control, to make us victims, ostracized, oppressed, helpless.

But we are not victims.

We are not helpless.

We have the power to create a new reality in our day to day.

Even if we are at the mercy of policies meant to divide, oppress, and create fear that those that are different are the real enemy, we can take daily actions, create community, change the narrative.

So, let’s change the narrative.

One of the biggest problems we are facing is the slow, insidious erosion of our communities. The idea that we have rugged individualism divides us. We can change that.

So, I have a few ideas on how I can start in my own community by starting a mutual aid network. But I am going to need feedback and perspective to get this started (and hopefully you can use the same ideas in your own communities). While I have never truly done something like this before, as I have said, I have never let that stop me from starting and finding success. All I need is the audacity and resolve.

All we all need is audacity and resolve.

Sometimes this dull ache is a good feeling, as strange as that sounds. It can be a feeling of relief, the post-stress/ trauma response one has when the danger is over….for now. It is a comfort, in a way. A signal to let go, hibernate, find comfort in blankets and pillows, in hammocks, sunlight, puppies. I have dealt with various individual traumas, collective traumas, and numerous severe crisis situations in my lifetime. I have alot of practice of what to do in a crisis. I become calm, and jump into action. But the post-crisis ache, as much as it can offer a sense of relief from active danger, can be a delicate time and dangerous time. A time where the seeking comfort in the pain, can lead to deep depression and anxiety if you are not careful.

This is where I find myself currently, the familiar soreness, exhaustion, the potential looming depression that comes after times of stress. Some of the stress I have experienced recently is good stress: a move, graduating with my Masters, husband finding a new job where he is happier, child about to graduate from high school. But some of it? Some of it has to do with teaching, a profession I was called to do.

Teachers are not ok. Administrators are not ok. Our children, students, are not ok.

Today, in the aftermath of yet another school shooting, I find myself in a unique place. While I am feeling that post-stress pain as the toughest year I have experienced in my 11 years of teaching closes, I am also feeling that heightened sense of awareness that comes in times of crisis, simultaneously. The pain that I experience post-crisis rolled right into another crisis. This is especially true since I had a minor tenuous situation occur in my own classroom last week, one that I realized as news poured in last night, affected me more than I thought. So the overall feeling that I am experiencing is one of profound exhaustion. One where I am hyper-aware of my surroundings, yet numb. I am experiencing a resigned acceptance that this is…. what? Reality? The job?

No. It cannot be. This cannot be our sustained reality.

Today, I experience this resigned acceptance, but I cannot survive here. Today, I nurse this mixed state of crisis and post-crisis. I wrap myself in sunlight, and fresh air, and tend to my mind and body in the attempt to heal, sweep away the jaded feelings, the depression creeping in.

I am not sure where I was going with this post when I started. There is no distinct end to this post. Honestly, it feels like the job right now. No distinct end, moving from semi-crisis to semi-crisis, to looming full-blown crisis. I don’t have anything poignant or inspirational or call to action to insert here, as much as I want to. I don’t have it to give right now.

Just know, fellow teachers, you are not alone. Reach out if you need, and care for yourself. Nurse your feelings.

And rest.

The Supreme Court of the United States

This week, women everywhere felt simultaneously angered and leveled by the confirmation of Brett Kavanaugh to the highest court in the land.

Women are angry.

Women feel worthless.

Women are devastated.

Women want to light it all up.

The past week, I have had a very visceral reaction to the hearings and the news of his subsequent confirmation. I physically hurt. My mood was affected. I wanted to scream. I wanted to see women anchors on TV let the facade slip and let everyone have it. I wanted to see Republican women senators vote for America. I wanted to see conservative women express their support for themselves.

And I too wanted to light it all up.

But, rarely does this make for a good movement. Organizing will reclaim our time. The gut reaction is to take it all by storm. But rarely has this won any ground. Instead, we must recognize the strength of strategic planning, strong leaders, and coordinated efforts. We must remain steadfast in the face of adversity. We must organize.

Things to consider when planning group action:

1. Be strategic. Know the who, what, when, why, and how.
2. Define your mission. What is it that you want to accomplish? Be specific for each action.
3. Define your message. What do you want to say? What do you want your lawmakers to understand?
4. Coordinate efforts with other groups. There are alot of efforts out there. We can accomplish more together. If a group does not share your mission, you can at least share their efforts among your members.
5. Promote women of color. Ensure they have leadership roles within your group, and that their roles are not just token roles so you can say you have women of color represented.  Amplify their voices. These are women who are disproportionately affected by policy and need to have their voices heard.
6. Practice self-care and care of those around you. Take the time you need to heal. This is a hard road, long, winding with many starts and stops. We need you, so take care of you.
7. Talk to those people who don’t want to talk politics, who think it is “uncooth.” It is time to tear down the idea that there are niceties when it comes to this. Peoples lives are on the line, their safety, their physical and mental wellbeing. This is for everyone, and everyone needs to make informed decisions.

Women can win this. Women are not going away. But we must go beyond the outrage and develop a smart strategy with strong leaders and a defined goal. It is our time. Reclaim it.

Movements need strategic planning.

Activists are working overtime. The common person is becoming an activist. In these times, when tides are changing and many are feeling the onslaught of consistent attacks on human rights, it is easy to become overwhelmed. This is energizing work for many. But it is also demoralizing, hard heart work at the same time. We all need a roadmap to deal with this dichotomy. The last few days, I felt like I haven’t been able to come up for air, that I was hit by one large wave, and each subsequent wave had me washed up in the turbulent, with sand and salt water stinging my eyes. I needed clarity. So, I went back to my roots, to what worked for me in the past.

How to have the most impact

1. Get strategic. Develop a daily, weekly, or monthly action plan. Write it down.
2. Be deliberate. Don’t shoot in the dark at whatever social media is going crazy about that day even though you will want (and should) to address some of that. Decide what you are going to do each day and what organizations matter to you. Figure out where you can have the most impact. Do that.
3. Watch the news, but be careful of the source.It is easy to become saturated with rehashed news. The facts are important. Get them, analyze the facts, develop your opinion based on the facts, and act. Don’t let the constant analysis derail you from the action.
4. Check two to three organizations you trust for updates on their progress each week.Support the grassroots work by donating or by spreading the word. If you cannot donate, promote their work. There is more work needed to be done with less resources. Help them do their work.
5.  Call senators, congresspeople, school board members, council people, and state reps to address your concerns. Better yet, show up at their meetings with constituents or request a meeting.Remember, you hired them. They work for you. Writing them helps, but it is known that they respond better to calls.  Save their numbers in your phone. Don’t waste your time looking their number up each time. Then send a contact card to a friend so he or she can call as well. The work was done, share it with others doing the work. Time is valuable. It really only takes a minute to call, I promise. But before you know it, your name will be in their mouth. You want it there. Use scripts if you want. Many organizations have them posted.
6. Schedule time for this work. Add it to your planner.Try to use only the time allotted for this work. Sometimes, life will get in the way. You won’t be able to get it done and you will feel defeated. Other times, a topic will come up that needs immediate attention and you will need to add more allotted time. By having it your time scheduled, you are less likely to get off track in either direction.  It is easy to see the depth and breadth of the work and have it take over your life. This is why we work in teams. No one person can do it all.
7. Set aside time to learn about issues, policies, process, and yourself.Schedule this too. Read a book. Read neutral media. Read the mission of an organization. Review what the data says. Take time read the language of a bill or proposal. Learn the process. Then follow the process towards action.
8. Engage others in their views, but don’t get stuck in an argument.Learning from others is crucial. Understanding other viewpoints is crucial. Expressing your viewpoints and providing evidence to back up your views is crucial.  However, also crucial to abandon dialogue that is causing you stress. harm, or is simply going nowhere. Make your point, move on. Don’t let it personally derail you. Don’t get sucked down into a spiraling argument. Detractors are just detractors. We can have civil conversations where real change can happen or we can just get sucked into an unwinnable war where we get upset. Don’t give up the time you have to do the work by spending it arguing and draining your emotional resources. Accountability work can be done on the flip side.
9. Remember the concrete work.When you get discouraged dive back into the concrete work. It means you have been spending too much time around the rhetoric and arguments, and not enough time taking concrete action. Concrete action will always calm your nerves.
10. Step out of your comfort zone.If someone engages you and tells you their struggle, listen. If someone tells you that you are not helping like you thought you were and you feel discouraged or personally offended, listen harder. I have been called out on more than one occasion, (even if not directly) for having the right leaning, idea or motivation, but going about it a completely wrong way. And sometimes that realization stings, because I disappoint myself. But that is not on the other person to fix.  It is on me to fix. Don’t lash out at the messenger when they tell you their story. Sometimes this work requires growth. We may think we are helping and sometimes we really aren’t. While that may really hurt to hear and we might just want to defend ourselves, don’t. Listen, learn, grow.
11. For every global or national action you take, take one in your community.Work in your community will have a direct impact. It will also come back to you alot faster.
12. For every local action you take, take a bit of self care.True self care. Something that will nourish you. Time with family. Fresh air. Sunlight. Time alone. Something spiritual. Time with a friend.  It is essential to continue the work.
13. Join an organization where there are physical meetings to attend.Virtual meetings are beneficial to attend, but face to face is better. It is important to surround yourself with others working on a common mission. You will feel inspired by those around you. Do not isolate your work. Consider becoming a board or committee member. Attend a meeting. Serve. We need you.

This work can be draining. With laser focus and applying some of the steps above, I have been able to avoid some (not all) of the fatigue that comes with the territory. Use these tips to inform your work so that you can have the greatest impact possible.

Year 1:  I can stand on my own two feet.

Year 2: Some days you will run away from the need to get dressed and face the day.

Year 3: You never know how your life may change when someone new comes into your life.

Year 4:  Sharing is a gift when it means you have a friend.

Year 5: Books are the best award.

Year 6: Sometimes the kindest looking person is the creepiest and the creepiest looking person is the kindest. Never judge by looks alone.

Year 7: When a door is locked, find an open window and crawl through.

Year 8: Change can be stressful and still good.

Year 9:  You don’t always realize what you were missing until it comes into your life.

Year 10: Some people you meet will expand your world-view and understanding exponentially, if you are willing to listen.

Year 11:  Some days, the only way to express yourself is through movement.

Year 12: Sometimes you need to accept that the only way to get where you are going is to get in the clown car.

Year 13: Life takes Grace.

Year 14: A fierce look, a stand, a turn, and a walk away are valid ways to deal with a slap in the face. In fact, it might be the only way.

Year 15:  Sometimes, regardless what physics may tell us, taking the stairs is more efficient than taking the elevator. And more rewarding.

Year 16: The true meaning of a gift does not always make itself apparent. Sometimes you miss it the first time,  but you cherish it always, especially if it made you realize you weren’t alone after all.

Year 17: When opportunity shows up in a tux looking Fine, sit up and pay attention.

Year 18:  Failure can lead you to where you should be.

Year 19: The quality of the furniture does not make itself a home.

Year 20: One foot in front of the other leads you to your future.

Year 21: Sometimes sitting in silence together for hours on end is the only way to get through it.

Year 22: The good teacher is ever the student.

Year 23: Let science make your argument for you.

Year 24: You will find your passion if you are open to opportunities.

Year 25: Sometimes you need someone to carry you.

Year 26: Moving on is sometimes your best option.

Year 27: There is only one type of love that should bring you physical pain, and you will embrace it.

Year 28: When life delivers earth-shattering news,  the floor, the ground, the dirt, and  gravity itself, will support you. From there, ever so slowly, you will rebuild, even if the air never feels quite the same.

Year 29: Living simply makes moves easier.

Year 30: Sometimes, everything in your life is screaming at you to stop, take stock, remember what is important, and care for yourself.  Listen.

Year 31: Your capacity to love is endless.

Year 32:  People make a house a home.

Year 33: Don’t let circumstances and disappointments destroy you.  Turn within and to those that are steadfast in your life and know.

Year 34: Friends. They become family.

Year 35:  You are capable.

Year 36: Know where your line is. Don’t let people treat you less than.  You know your worth. Stand for it.

Year 37:  When you set a goal, see it through.

Year 38:  Sometimes life lessons will be devastating. Sometimes you pick the wrong battle to fight, the wrong thing to back. This can come close to destroying you. Don’t let it. You will come through the other side. I promise.

Year 39: You are not ready. You never may be ready. That does not matter. Do it anyway. You will surprise yourself. You have passion in spades and people will recognize that and join you.

Year 40: The family you have made for yourself? They make you see you are living your best life ever.