A love letter to my worried ones

You are remembered. You are powerful. You are not alone.

Photo by Edward Howell on Unsplash

Dear Soulful Revolutionary,

I want you to know that you are powerful.

I know it likely doesn’t feel that way. I get it.

I felt frozen, helpless and sick when I saw this video from the White House Facebook page shamefully showcasing the deportation of our neighbors as an act of entertainment.

This kind of cruelty is a sucker punch to the soul.

Its absurd obscenity is meant to leave us despairing of what to do.

If you are despairing right now, I need you to know:

Your grief is your connection to the beating heart of humanity.

Your pain is telling you that you are empathically alive to the suffering of others.

Yes, this is achingly hard.

If you are experiencing the weight of this moment, it is good that you are feeling. We need you to keep feeling. Our collective humanity depends on the preservation of people with keen emotional intelligence. Take courage: you are not alone.

If you are numb, this is understandable. This is nothing to be ashamed of. Your body is trying to help you cope with the soul-crushing weight of the world.

I bless your beautiful body, so full of love.

This is me, giving you a hug, if you would like one.

I bless your exquisite soul, so intent on surviving, on thriving, in spite of all the forces that attempt to crush it.

Perhaps you would prefer to simply be held in a soft-eyed gaze:

“Hello. I see you. You are magnificent.”

Let’s get unstuck together. Let’s thaw out slowly from this terrible cold, warming up in the company of people who want nothing more than the healing of the whole world. (Is that so much to ask?)

Our sense of agency is being systematically stripped from us. But we can reclaim our agency by remembering our collective power:

It only takes 3.5% of a population consistently engaging in tactics of noncooperation and intervention to nonviolently overthrow a dictatorship. There are so many of us. And there are many, many ways to participate in this movement.

Opting out and dropping in

There are things we can choose not to do.

We can remove our consent from the status quo through actions like boycotts, strikes, slowdowns, and disobeying orders from the regime.

• Specifically, we can buy nothing on Feb. 28, the national day of economic blackout. If you must shop, do it at locally owned businesses. Spread word to your neighbors. Support people who wait to buy essentials on their Friday-pay day by helping them get what they need the day prior. Let’s work together to make participating in this boycott a possibility for as many people as possible. (Plus this is good practice for a general strike coming down the pipe).

And there are things we can do.

• Don’t be a bystander — intervene. Stand up against bullies. Interrupt racist incidents. Be like the woman in Washington D.C., who spotted a police officer looking for delivery people to deport them, and urged an immigrant man making deliveries by scooter to come into her home for safety.

• Hand out red cards to immigrant friends to help them know their rights.

• Find out what provisions are needed by area immigrant-advocacy organizations to support families scared to leave their homes, and organize a food drive.

• Reach out to local LGBTQIA organizations to find out what support they would welcome. Some groups are looking for help with suicide hotlines or community meet-ups, some need legal or psychological support folks.

• Financially support groups like the ACLU that are working to stop the onslaught of executive orders.

• If you’re not yet connected with local groups organizing political education and protest, do the research and reach out. Grab coffee with an organizer. Show up at a protest. Ask leaders what they need. Get curious about where your gifts might aline.

We’re building for the longterm here. As organizing efforts coalesce, there will be more focused and strategic ways to apply our energies. (I know so much of our response feels ad hoc and reactive right now given the chaos being orchestrated).

In the meantime, know that exercising your agency in small ways is hugely important. This is how we stay connected, hopeful, and in touch with our collective power, which lies in many, many people remembering that we are not powerless. Our small acts of resistance can add up to consequential pressure.

Don’t give into despair. You’re not alone. We’ve got us.

I believe in you.

Love,

Lauren