Think small

And choose rage

Your rage is essential. Here is mine.

Some of it is futile: The rage I feel toward the strategists who assumed Dick and Liz Cheney would mobilize a blue wave is boundless. The rage I feel at the campaign’s hard pivot to centrism when a revolution was at our fingertips. The rage at Biden for not stepping down until July and the now-obvious fumble to anoint a candidate from outside his beleaguered and catastrophically unpopular administration. We understand Obama’s six-day pause after Biden’s endorsement of Harris. When the numbers came in on election night, I felt his head in his hands. No matter what she did, she was set up to poll neck-and-neck to a rapist felon until election day.

The rage at the men who voted for a rapist felon because they couldn’t stomach voting for a woman, and certainly not a woman of color.

The rage I feel at the white women who voted for him despite their own lived experience.

The rage that JD Vance grifted his way to the Oval Office.

The rage that my 93-year-old grandparents have to live through another one of Donald Trump’s inaugurations.

The rage that my niece will have fewer rights than my mother.

The rage is vital because it clarifies exactly where we need to be right now.

The rage is what we have. We need to use it. I could lift a car and throw it when I see Instagram posts about holding hands with Trump voters and finding common ground.

I would spit on the hands of Trump voters before I held them. If they wanted to hold our hands, they could have sat on their own on election day. They could have voted not to let women die in hospital parking lots. They could have voted to protect trans kids. They could have voted against putting a felonious rapist in the White House.

There is no common ground with people who are trying to kill the people I love. Ignore their pleas for niceness. Remember your rage.

Politics is personal. It is about our bodies. It is about our bedrooms. It is about the water we drink and the air we breathe.

And our survival over these next four years depends on thinking small.

This is a time for mutual care. For turning to our immediate communities and organizing. For reaching out to people in pain and offering support.

The next four years will be an exercise in using this rage as a pilot light. Of letting it fuel the way you show up to help. Change will be local. Countermanding the Trump agenda will be local.

Let this rage be everything you need to make sure Project 2025 cannot infiltrate where you live. This starts in your home. In your circle of friends. In your neighborhood. And in your town. Where can your rage be useful?

The time to look to your community is now.

This is the time to join your school board. To volunteer as a guardian at your nearest abortion clinic. To fight the shuttering of a community garden. To fight book bans and censorship in libraries. To get to work at your local food pantry. To volunteer at local LGBTQ organizations. To organize donations for migrant families in your nearest city. To read about down-ballot progressive candidates and volunteer for their campaigns. To BECOME a down-ballot progressive candidate.

If enough of us were to commit to thinking small, the change would be seismic.

We have four years. See how small you can get.

Meanwhile, I’m here. I’m grateful you’re here, too. See you in the comments section with your own ideas and resources.