How We Show Up
Last Monday night, on Presidents Day, I met with a group of strangers about how to resist the president of the United States. We sat in a circle, surrounded by paintings of garden tools, which made me think of a country grange meeting, except our community space — in a gentrified part of Oakland, California — had an espresso machine, a rack of zines, and a “cell phone motel” for locking away digital devices. This was my initiation into a neighborhood “pod” of Bay Resistance, a network of community, faith, and worker groups mobilizing to defend racial, economic, climate, and gender justice in the face of growing authoritarianism. “I tried to think about what I’d be doing if I were in Minneapolis, or LA, or Chicago,” said one of the group organizers. “I didn’t have an answer.” She wasn’t alone. Many in the room expressed similar feelings of horror, paired with a desire to help. I shared these sentiments, too. But I also showed up for a different reason: the power of simply connecting with strangers around a common cause. You see, long before the US was hurtling toward fascism, the country was already deeply divided and disconnected. I’ve been listening to podcasts and reading books on the subject, and I’ve become convinced that one solution lies in learning how to meet and see one another and work together at the local level. The good news is this is happening. In response to growing hate, we’re seeing growing care, and people in places like Minneapolis are reporting feeling more connected as a result. “There’s something really heartwarming about looking a complete stranger in the eye and saying, ‘I’m here for you,’” one Minneapolis business owner told The New York Times. Toward the end of our meeting in Oakland, we split into small groups to explore actions we could take ourselves, from setting up a farmers market stall to joining foot patrols around sites where ICE might invade. New activities and events were added on the spot — a craft night ahead of the farmers market, a book club to read Mutual Aid, an upcoming emergency response training to prepare ourselves for a climate disaster. I didn’t know anything about these people; I hardly learned their names. But they were my neighbors, and they were showing up. I wanted to keep showing up too.
|
