What matters to us are all the things you fear: whatever might mock you, whatever you don’t understand, whatever is not explicitly about money or your penis, whatever shames your behavior, whatever contradicts you, whatever denies you what you want whether others want it or not:
Women having the right to say “fuck off” to you and your grabby hands and laws. Artists making art you don’t understand. The free practice of a religion you don’t subscribe to or no religion at all. Welcoming arms at the borders for those fleeing in fear or just wanting another chance. Wilderness uncolonized by golf courses and hotels. The free exchange of ideas. The preeminence of facts. Drugs that don’t bankrupt or maim us. An education that doesn’t leave us enslaved to banks or corporations for the rest of our lives, and teaches us to question everything, especially authority, especially your authority. Air and water that don’t poison us. A climate that won’t kill us. A future for those not born yet.
–President’s Day, 2017, Harlem, NY
Posting for the following meme:
From Linda Kennedy via Marcia Morgan.
I would like to start a little ripple of resistance today. Tomorrow is February 20th, and Mr. Trump will have been in office for one month.
“One bullet stops a lot of thuggery.” –Dan Adamini, secretary of the Marquette County, Michigan, GOP, calling for "another Kent State" for protesters
But whose, sir?
If we shout down the verbal thuggery of a white immigrant who thinks he belongs here but others don’t, are we the thugs, then? Is our violence, which leaves him shaken but not stirred, somehow worse, than stirring others to ropes and guns, fists and knives? Is a bullet in my brain for saying we are all one better than tea tossed into the harbor and a small fire that hurt no one? Do you hear yourself? How is it calling for “an end to violence” to propose shooting someone for demanding that bigots shut the hell up?
A white man stands in a public square and starts to make a “statement” about Black people. A Black man gets right up in his face and roars “No!” in a long, sustained note, drowning him out until the racist gives up, shuts up.
That one Black man struck the note for us. Pick it up. Harmonize. Riff. Compose inventions. Take it off into a wild solo of indignation, then bring it back home to that one word of collective resistance.
We are a vast choir of righteous voices. If a few of us pause to breathe, it's all good. The “No!”—like an “Om”— will continue until the world rings with it like a great bell tolling “Victory!”
You know we’re going to lose at least at first. The system is already entrenched, the corridors of power full of irritating, grasping, little empire builders whose duty they feel it is to silence uppity women and folks of all colors not their own, who see this moment as their opportunity to seize power.
Let them have it.
First, we will let them wallow a bit, while we find our weapons and let our leaders find themselves, until we have plans, maps, contingencies accounted for. For a while, they will seem invincible. There were will be crowing and barnyard strutting. This is the last gasp of the Old White Men. Let them enjoy it.
But not for too long. Once we’ve gathered our strength and our millions, we will roll over them, inevitable as weather, unstoppable as the deluge, a tide of women owning their own bodies, Black bodies unafraid to walk by a cop, brown bodies bringing their families to a better place, all the beautiful spectrum of people being their bad selves, covering for each other when life gets tough, making sure we all have what a whole human life deserves, standing up for one another, making the world how it ought to be.
Stop waiting for orders and start giving them instead. “Not just” trumps “not legal.” Step forward raise your hand not in question but in a fist. Take up whatever banner you choose but take one and march for as long as you can. Acknowledge no impediment but your own physical limitations, Then take up the pen which is already mightier than the delusional representatives who think they are our overlords or commanders. The Continental Army were only rabble like you.
The perfidy won’t stop but you have to at least for a day. Exhaustion is our enemy as much as lies and treason and voter suppression. Go see a movie even if it is “Rogue One.” Read a magazine that’s not political like GQ or Teen Vogue. Let yourself be distracted by the flowers and wildlife, the national parks that we may not have this time next year.
Sleep in until you hear the sound of the drones hovering at your window.