It is important to remember that we are winning

It's not about clinging to false hope; it's about not giving up

Milwaukee May Day Protest, 2026 (Photo credit: Isiah Holmes, Wisconsin Examiner)

It does not feel like it, but January of 2025 wasn’t very long ago. I have beaten this drum before, but it is still insane to remember the discursive fatalism of that cursed month. So much was declared to us, about us. Wokeness? Dead. Past eras of anti-Trump resistance? Cringe. The vibes? Shifted. This second era of Trump? Your fault, on account of your deeply embarrassing concern for others’ well-being.

January, 2026 definitely wasn’t that long ago. And by that point, it wasn’t pundits sowing fear. Minnesota wasn’t just being rhetorically terrorized. Government forces murdered human beings in the streets. Goon squads terrorized schools. Cars were left abandoned on the sides of the road, their occupants disappeared to God knows where.

Across the country, a million panicked Signal groups sprung into action. Rumor networks worked overtime. What town would be next? Yours, most likely. Surely, this was just life now. Ours would no longer be a world where powerful people made life worse for the most vulnerable quietly, and with a mask of plausible deniability. Now, the subtext would be text and the terror would escalate without limit.

And since then?

You could argue that nothing has changed. Donald Trump is still President. We are literally at war. ICE may be more circumspect, but it hasn’t disappeared. The U.S. continues to afford only a small slice of the population safety and dignity. And this administration, aided by its apparatchiks in the Republican Party and on the Supreme Court, are currently speed running through an Orbán-meets-Jim-Crow style mass gerrymander.

And yet here I am talking about how we’re winning. I promise I’m not being brusque, though it is important to define our terms. By we, I mean those of us who wish for a country and planet where everybody is safe and loved.¹ And by winning, I’m not inferring that we have fully defeated this or any empire of cruelty. Ours remains a world that worships money and hierarchy far more than care and dignity. That was true before Trump, and remains particularly true under his watch.

Readers, I understand if nothing about this moment feels victorious. This gerrymandering apostasy, to take just one example, is disempowering by nature. Powerful people in suits and robes are picking and choosing whose votes matter and whose votes don’t. Red State Republicans? Deserving of enfranchisement. Black voters? This is America, so you know how that story goes.

If you feel like the fix is in, that no matter how unpopular Trump becomes, we’ll wake up in November to find that dirty tricks and duct tape were enough to manufacture another MAGA victory, you’re not being hysterical. That’s the game. Disenfranchisement isn’t just a structural reality, it’s a spiritual state.

But we are winning. Through collective action and agitation, we continue to reveal that this Emperor is as naked as they come. Even the most callous dictators require a popular base for their dirty tricks. Every strongman’s hope is that, over time, their opposition will become more demoralized and less willing to take to the streets. It matters then that Trump is historically unpopular. It matters that Republicans keep losing elections. It matters not only that anti-Trump protests continue to grow larger, but that the thousands of actions on May Day showcased an increased tactical sophistication.

We are better at countering fascism than we were even a year ago. Yes, they have the guns, but the guns only work if every time you fire them, they’re met primarily by cheers, apathy and cowardice. How incredible that, up to this point, we’ve robbed this administration of that depraved, humanity-destroying luxury.

Nothing proves this better than Minneapolis in January. For all the attention given to the miracle of Minnesotan solidarity, we somehow haven’t adequately celebrated what was accomplished on those snowy streets this winter. Once again, I say this carefully, as somebody who talked to Minneapolis activists on a daily basis during the height of that crisis. On the ground, nothing about Operation Metro Surge felt like a victory. The trauma was and remains immense. Every family that couldn’t be protected was internalized as a collective defeat, and rightfully so. That’s what being a neighbor is all about. Bearing the full pain, together. I know that Minnesotans don’t want shallow praise from gobsmacked outsiders, especially when their community’s wounds are still so fresh.

But it is also true that there’s a reason why ICE has not attempted a redux of Operation Metro Surge in your community. There’s a reason why, after being given the full run of the White House, Steven Miller is finally being sidelined. There is a reason why men with longarms and masks are not parading down the street of every major American city. The administration thought they’d win in Minnesota, not just in terms of arrest numbers, but in the court of public opinion. The regime bet that the opposition would be tepid and easily demonized. Minnesota should have been the model. But they weren’t ready for the grocery deliveries. They weren’t ready for the families taking shelter in each other’s homes. They weren’t ready for the crowds to grow larger and more in love with each other. So they retreated.

And again, I’m sure many of you have cynical rejoinders. “Just wait— they’re just holding out until after the midterms, that’s when there’ll be another surge.” And yes, that could very well be true. But if they were winning, there’d be no need to wait.

You’ll notice that I’m being careful about my tenses here. I’m not guaranteeing that we will win permanently, though I very much believe that we can. I am merely stating that what those of us who oppose Trump have been building— both on the community level and through mass protest– has accomplished far more than we often acknowledge.

We are winning, and I’d very much like us to keep winning.

To give up the game here, I didn’t write this essay because I believe in celebration for celebration’s sake, particularly preemptively. I too am absolutely terrified, but not primarily at what Trump might do. I’m terrified that we’ll give up. I fear that those of us not under daily threat will fall into complacence. We won’t host that organizing meeting we dreamed up a few months ago. We won’t go to the next protest. We will disengage from our workplace’s unionization drive. We’ll let life take over.

I fear that we’ll check the headlines, see that another GOP-run state has passed a racist, crooked map, and we’ll give into the narcotizing spell of nihilism. I fear that we’ll put too much of our faith in electoral politics, and that when we do engage on political campaigns we’ll do so out of fear rather than hope. I fear that we’ll believe, implicitly if not explicitly, that we no longer have to meet our neighbors because ICE isn’t metro surging through our particular town.

I need you to know we’re winning, not for smugness sake, but so that we don’t quit. So that we believe in each other. So that we cultivate short, medium, and long term communities of resistance. So that we win elections, but also so that we remember that electoral politics alone isn’t where democracy is built and practiced. So that we keep an eye on this regime, but recognize that the rot at the heart of empire goes far beyond one politician.

We are not a perfect opposition, but whatever we’ve been doing has mattered, and will keep mattering, more than we can even imagine.

But not if we buy the lie that they have us on the ropes.

End notes:

1. The 50 state relay of community gathering continues to be the most hope-giving thing imaginable and I’d love for you to join us. TWO EVENTS THIS WEEK, LET’S GO! I’LL BE AT BOTH OF THEM!

   1. This Thursday, May 14th in San Francisco— An everybody’s welcome at the table party at Fog City Community Fitness (1649 Valencia). 6:30-9:30.. We’re potlucking (of course) and then, for anybody interested, there’ll be an actual relay race (you know, in honor of the broader relay). RSVP here, please.

   2. Saturday, May 16th in Kalāheo (Kauai)— Yellow House invites you to a celebration of neighbors (complete with fire dancing). 4:00-9:00 at the corner of Papalino and Alelo.

2. If you go to our website over the next few days, you’ll see a few exciting updates, one that’s already live, one that will be soon.

   1. LIVE NOW: The full report from our Portland event! I wasn’t at this one, but working with the organizers on the recap made me cry in the best way (and also wish so badly that I was there). I think all of you will enjoy this recap, but particularly those of you involved in faith communities who are trying to be more welcoming.

   2. COMING SOON: Our official hosts/dates for AZ, NM, UT, CO and ID. There are some cool ones, you all.

3. NOW IS THE TIME TO APPLY FOR OUR NEXT ROUND OF STATES: Montana, Wyoming, North and South Dakota, Nebraska, Kansas. YOU’RE UP. Deadline is May 31st, As I’ve mentioned in previous weeks, Applying is not hard! And we’ll give you a lot of support and celebrate your event in so many ways and also give you a hosting stipend. Whoa.

4. Last week, I offered hang out hours for my Bay Area trip (on Thursday during the day at Kinfolx Coffee in Oakland). As of this writing, all the slots are filled, but sometimes there are cancellations so it never hurts to check. And of course, a good place to hang out is the event that evening.

5. As you know, I always make a regular request to consider supporting The White Pages with a paid subscription (it remains one of the best deal in media, I’d argue, both because there are so many free perks, I keep the price as cheap as it ever was, and you’re supporting not just this writing but all my work training and supporting community builders across the country). It would be very cool if you’d do so. AND…

6. … last week, I also made a broader pitch to support, well, any newsletter authors you love (because it’s a pretty brutal time in our broader field right now). I also promised to choose two new newsletter writers to support myself (because I believe in this work, I already have dozens of subscriptions, which I include in my family’s budget for mutual aid/causes I believe in). First, I chose the single writer whom I’ve been most grateful for these past couple years (Rebecca Solnit, not a surprising choice, but unsurprising choices still deserve support). I then asked paid subscribers for ideas on my second new sub. Thanks to a great rec, I’m now supporting Molly Knight ‘s thoughtful writing about both baseball and the broader world around it. I’m so glad I asked, because my kids and I are in a deep baseball-following moment and I do want to enjoy smart writing about that sport, but I wouldn’t have made that connection on my own.

7. It’s been a while since I’ve written about movies but holy cow if any of you want to talk about The Drama, I’m all in (I hope this doesn’t spoil anything but I was NOT expecting it to hit on so many of this newsletter’s major themes!).

1. You’ll notice that I often write of a “we” inclusive of both self-identified liberals and leftists. That’s a pretty big tent, I know. I do so not to paper over our ideological differences, but because, as a leftist, I’ve legitimately seen important and crucial activism in this moment both from “more radical” activists and more moderate ones. I’m grateful for anarchists keeping mutual aid networks alive and liberals organizing fundraising drives for statehouse races. I sincerely believe we won’t get past this moment without all of it, so if you find yourself at any point in that “we” spectrum, thank you.