Get a load of all these stickers

Collective action, even on the tiniest scale, is still pretty damn terrific

Many of you know the backstory here, but stick with me. It’s unremarkable on its face, but that’s how metaphors work.

For the last couple weeks, I’ve been the joyful recipient of a steady stream of pictures. They’re all of the same sticker, one that I designed and ordered and likely should have made bigger than I did (I’ve received feedback). The sticker says “Trump and Musk don’t care about you.” There are a couple QR codes— links to learn more and take action— but not much else. It was an extremely simple project, just one of thousands that have been launched across the country since Trump was inaugurated. It will, I’m sure, not bring down a government or prevent a deportation or stop a bomb from falling.

I adore these stickers. They are tiny, on more than one level, but that’s how all impactful things start. Designing them wasn’t hard, nor was tossing off a few messages asking others if they wanted one as well. I said, in essence, “hey you all, this is a thing that I’m doing” And then, when hundreds of people across the country indicated that they would, in fact, like a sticker, they added their voice to mine. "This is a thing I can do as well,” they said, a chorus of beating hearts and frayed nerves. They shouted their reply from tiny towns and large cities, from places where they struggled to find a location that wouldn’t just preach to the choir, as well as places where Trump is worshipped like a God.

They answered, and I felt less alone in hearing their reply.

And then, because this is how trust is built, we kept our promises to one another. I sent out the stickers and they put them up and snapped a picture and then… well, we’ll see. I have no proof whatsoever if the chain will continue, if a teenager playing baseball or a mom returning her cart at Target or a trucker taking a rest break after a long day on the road will see them and be reminded that they too can do something, but if we limited our political imagination to actions whose ripples we could foresee without a shadow of the doubt, we would do so very little.

I have made a number of challenges to myself since Trump’s inauguration. I have challenged myself to counter the false faith of isolation and inhumanity with one of connection and care. I have challenged myself to remember every day how in love I am, how grateful I am, how much I believe in the beautiful counterpoints we have already shouted and the even more beautiful world we will build.

I don’t think I’ve answered any of those challenges in profound ways, but I am trying. And since I am trying, if my heart beams every time I receive another picture of a sticker out in the world, then the least I can do is to share that feeling with you as well.

Do you want to see some of the stickers? I hope so, because if they are out there, that means that we are out there, even when it feels like we aren’t, even if we convince ourselves so frequently that being out there isn’t enough, even when we don’t yet understand why or how our being out there adds up to the world we want to live in together.

So, my friends, here are a few of them…

…on top of a carrot in Sacramento.

..preparing to play ball in a West Virginia County that gave 78% of its vote to Trump in November.

…remembering the Alamo.

…as well as another complicated American icon (in Iowa).

…welcoming visitors to a farm bureau in Illinois.

…and what I’m assured is a “surprisingly scenic” Costco parking lot in Fort Oglethorpe, Georgia.

… in bathrooms (in South Carolina and Phoenix).

…and on signs that, if you read them the right way, also feature messages of opposition (in Des Moines, Iowa and Springfield, Illinois).

…on campus (at Cornell and the University of Tennessee).

…and rivers (the Fox, in Wisconsin).

…and rails (in Chicago).

…and roads (in rural Florida).

As of this writing, there are hundreds of stickers, but millions of American places. A drop in the bucket if ever there was one. But there they are, proclaiming that we’re still here. Connected to each other. Shouting out, “I am doing something. We are doing something. We are here today and we will be here tomorrow.”

I love them, because I love us.

End notes:

1. I’m letting most of the siblinghood of stickering remain blessedly anonymous, but I hope you read this lovely reflection from

   Lyndsey Medford
   (esteemed stickerer of Costco parking lots and one hell of a writer to boot).

2. It isn’t just stickering, of course. I truly believe that my inbox is one of the most hope-giving spaces on the planet, because it’s full of people telling me about how damn amazing it felt going to one of those (massive) Bernie-AOC rallies or how their Tesla protest tripled in size week to week or how they never expected to find such a powerful political home when they moved to East Tennessee. You all, get a load of us! Trying! Building!

3. Yes, I have a few more stickers left (though please be patient, I’m away from home this week so will send them out when I get back).

4. And yes, I don’t just send stickers. I also run trainings (free and virtual!) on how to organize and build community in your part of the world, and next week I’ll be announcing dates and times for the next round so if you’re not on the interest list please get there.

5. Finally, I know I have said this before but it’s the truth: I can do all these things for free, not requiring compensation in a tit for tat way, because every week a few more of you raise your hands and say “Garrett, I can chip in to help out.” If you’re in a position to do so but haven’t yet, oh jeez it helps a ton. Thanks in advance for considering a paid subscription.