When I used to ask “What can I do?” in response to the world’s terrible events, I’d imagine marching in the streets and all the dramatic scenarios which spin out from there. At that point, it’s a troubling question of constitution, and integrity. “Am I willing to risk my life – or more realistically, my job – for what I claim to believe in?” During the first Trump administration, though, I saw how much the real fight happens in courtrooms, by organizations like the ACLU and the SPLC. The best I can do there is donate money. For the more dramatic end, I’m not a frontline guy. At least, so far, I haven’t been called upon. ICE invaded my hometown (and in doing so, made national headlines) but hasn’t occupied where I currently live. I assume that if I were to join one of those protests against a horde of ICE agents and be detained, it would be for so long that I’d lose my job and, judging by how things are going, my citizenship. Whether or not I’m willing to give up my livelihood and back up my convictions with courage – as so many have elsewhere in the country – is something I have to decide, especially as the situation tilts ever toward state violence.
In the meantime, I’ve contained my thinking to the community level. I’ve always dreamed of living in other places, no matter where I am, so it’s not been my instinct to consider my immediate surroundings as more than a station. But people live here, including people in need. At some point, I realized you can donate three things – your money, your time, and your blood (if you don’t have a needle issue) – and that I can’t donate my time. At least where I live, they incentivize the hell out of blood donations. I’ve had to refuse prizes, and have still walked away with a sweatshirt and countless gift cards. And then money-wise, while it’s orgs like the ACLU and Planned Parenthood, the government shutdown had me seek out the local food pantry which, up until now, I did not know about. Fortunately, mine takes PayPal, as I just know that, realistically, I’m not gonna be delivering groceries to this place in person. “Where am I gonna find the time for that?” “Do I really want to talk to people?” I figure they know how to spend the money better. But the lesson was: pay attention to the news for exactly this reason, even if it’s your town’s newsletter.
Is this enough? Of course, there’s no upper limit – think Tom Hanks’s line, “Our mission is to win the war” – but is it enough for me to sleep at night? Apparently so, but I know it shouldn’t be. A big part of my pessimism in this country stems from within, how someone so idealistic can consistently do the bare minimum during these fluttering pages of history. The blood, really, has nothing to do with politics; it’s more for me (and I try not to talk about it but for the possibility it reminds someone that that’s indeed a thing, as I needed to be reminded). I wish I had a useful skill set but also, more than anything, the desire to get more involved. One of the scary things about living in such precarious times is imagining myself “at the other end.” Whenever I’ve driven past a panhandler or a homeless encampment and simply looked away – if I didn’t care enough about those people, who’s gonna care about me when it’s my turn?
And during the first administration, I went up and down on protests. That was back when I felt like I, individually, had to make a difference, when the point of a protest is to make a mass of people even larger. But I sat out all the BLM protests due to safety concerns and still regret it. No Kings has been easier, and truly nothing unites people like their hatred of the president. As my mom has gotten way more involved in politics and her community than I have, protests like that have become an opportunity to visit family. And if you’re despairing, they make you feel a lot better, to be surrounded by likeminded people. Also, as we discovered with that recent Jimmy Kimmel fiasco, voting with your dollar is actually very effective. Over the past few years, I’ve been working to divest myself of, for example, Adobe and Amazon, and like with Twitter, once I’ve disconnected, I see how little I actually “needed” those things to begin with. It doesn’t hurt, anyway, to be a little needy in a time of such widespread need (and I would not even begin to describe myself as needy). I’ve also avoided Target all year, though I put a bit less stock in boycotting businesses over bad PR moves or racist ownership. That’s everyone, after a fashion. Long ago, I made a point to use Lyft and not Uber, and I do not remember why.
Finally, my last recommendation is: don’t take recommendations from me. If you don’t have more experienced, authoritative guidance in your life when it comes to being a good citizen, definitely find it. And if you have recommendations for me, please let me know.
With Eyes East 