Are you ready to join the resistance but don’t know where to sign up?
Are you ready to join the resistance but don’t know where to sign up? Has Trump and Bannon’s assault on social justice, human rights, the environment, and the rule of law galvanized you to get involved, but you don’t know how?
On Wednesday, March 15, Find Your Lane presents an activism fair. Hear some inspirational words from lifelong activist and former Seattle City Councilman Nick Licata and Randy Engstrom, Director of Seattle’s Office of Arts & Cultural Affairs, then meet with up to twenty organizations on hand to describe what they do and how they do it, answer your questions and recruit you!
Whether it’s helping refugees, fighting racism and intolerance, or reclaiming the electoral landscape, there are people working on it, and they need your help. Find your lane and get active!
Protesters outside the White House on Sunday. (photo: Jim Lo Scalzo / European Pressphoto Agency)
What a difference a week makes.
By Charles M. Blow / The New York Times
January 30, 2017
Trump’s America is not America: not today’s or tomorrow’s, but yesterday’s. Trump’s America is brutal, perverse, regressive, insular and afraid. There is no hope in it; there is no light in it. It is a vast expanse of darkness and desolation.
When Barack Obama was in office — remember the good old days, just over a week ago, when we didn’t wake up every morning and wonder what new atrocity was emanating from the White House — Republicans were apoplectic about his use of executive orders. They called them “unilateral edicts” and “power grabs.” As Iowa Senator Charles Grassley once said in a floor speech: “The president looks more and more like a king that the Constitution was designed to replace.”
What a difference a week makes.
Now many of those Republicans are as quiet as church mice as Donald Trump pumps out executive orders at a fevered pitch, doing exactly what he said he’d do during the campaign, for all of those who were paying attention: advancing a white nationalist agenda and vision of America, whether that be by demonizing blacks in the “inner city,” Mexicans at the border or Muslims from the Middle East.
Trump’s America is not America: not today’s or tomorrow’s, but yesterday’s.
Trump’s America is brutal, perverse, regressive, insular and afraid. There is no hope in it; there is no light in it. It is a vast expanse of darkness and desolation.
Photo: Livio Mancini / Redux
. . . What we are actually talking about.
By Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie / The New Yorker
December 2, 2016
Now is the time to resist the slightest extension in the boundaries of what is right and just. Now is the time to speak up and to wear as a badge of honor the opprobrium of bigots.
America has always been aspirational to me. Even when I chafed at its hypocrisies, it somehow always seemed sure, a nation that knew what it was doing, refreshingly free of that anything-can-happen existential uncertainty so familiar to developing nations. But no longer. The election of Donald Trump has flattened the poetry in America’s founding philosophy: the country born from an idea of freedom is to be governed by an unstable, stubbornly uninformed, authoritarian demagogue. And in response to this there are people living in visceral fear, people anxiously trying to discern policy from bluster, and people kowtowing as though to a new king. Things that were recently pushed to the corners of America’s political space — overt racism, glaring misogyny, anti-intellectualism — are once again creeping to the center.
Now is the time to resist the slightest extension in the boundaries of what is right and just. Now is the time to speak up and to wear as a badge of honor the opprobrium of bigots. Now is the time to confront the weak core at the heart of America’s addiction to optimism; it allows too little room for resilience, and too much for fragility. Hazy visions of “healing” and “not becoming the hate we hate” sound dangerously like appeasement. The responsibility to forge unity belongs not to the denigrated but to the denigrators. The premise for empathy has to be equal humanity; it is an injustice to demand that the maligned identify with those who question their humanity.