Twenty questions for big-hearted, anxious builders (for when principled opposition to Trump is growing, but we're still worried that it won't be enough)...

Questions about what you need, questions about where to focus your energy, questions I hope you don't answer alone

Elizabeth Hurley Flynn addressing I.W.W. workers on her Western tour, 1909

This is a fascinating moment for those of us who love justice and care and people. There is something being born. A movement? That’s ambitious, but maybe. Either way, it’s still so nascent that you could imagine it disappearing into the ether. There is a tiny bit of hope in the air, but with hope comes the burden of expectations and fresh reasons to preemptively declare defeat. Hope is hard, hope is cringe, hope leaves you open for critique from somebody cooler and more jaded. It’s easier to proclaim that none of this will amount to anything, that we aren’t made of sufficiently dictator-toppling stuff.

I insist on referring to all those currently standing up to Trump as “us,” but truth be told, we are a motley bunch. At the protests this weekend, there were radicals and moderates, old hats and newcomers, people who dream of revolution and people who still want life to go back to normal. If you are the kind of person who– when the doubts seep in as to whether you’re doing enough–  finds comfort in pointing the fingers at others (for their inefficacy and timidity? or their unreasonableness and brashness? the game works in both directions), no doubt you can find plenty of targets for your righteousness.

A few months ago, it was an open question as to whether anybody would or could stop Trump. The headlines were all about inevitability and mandates. Back then I offered a list of thirty things to do. I wrote it for myself, but I sensed that others were also searching for that first handhold to pull ourselves up out of entropy and despair.

Now, thank goodness, we’re seeing plenty of examples of people doing something. And because I remember the very real fear that there would be no meaningful opposition at all, I am grateful.

But the “keep going” moment is trickier than the “get started” moment. We are even more tired than we were a few months ago. Now that we have other people’s actions to analyze, it’s easy to be seduced into the religion of reaction and pontification. The calculus hasn’t changed, though. If we are to survive this moment, we still have to focus on the same three tasks that revealed themselves in January:

• Make life harder for this administration: protest, raise ruckuses, gum up the works, in a million different ways.

• Keep our arms open and focused on outreach— we still don’t have the sustained numbers we need, and we should be grateful for all who choose to join us. 

• Build and deeper networks of community care (the attacks will continue, the federal safety net has been ripped to shreds, and we already needed each other desperately long before Trump took power). 

Of course, the way we pursue those three tasks don’t have to be perfectly aligned. It’s ok if the projects that animate your heart are different than those that others take on. And yes, we can offer feedback and critique. That’s valuable, but only if we too are building. We’re well past the moment when bragging about our own unimpeachable politics mattered more than creating and sustaining spaces that boost each other up.

My last list, the one with the actions, was to help us get started. We’re in a keep going moment now, though, one that benefits more from principled reflection than a quick jump start.

So, with that in mind, here are some questions. See where they lead you. Share your answers with friends. Or better yet, invite some friends to answer them together.

In this moment (of anger and sorrow and opposition and building)...

1. What have you learned about the kind of world we all deserve (and what it’ll take to build that world)?

2. Who is somebody (or a group of somebodies) who has made your life easier in the last three months?

3. How can you show gratitude to those blessed somebodies?

4. What is a relationship (either to an individual or a community or people) that you’ve built or deepened in the last three months? 

5. When was the last time you asked for the kind of help that would actually make a meaningful difference in your life? What makes that sort of request hard?

6. When, in the last three months, have you felt something other than rage/grief/fear/numbness? What were you doing that enabled that feeling? What were others doing?

7. What was a moment, in the last three months, where your rage/grief/fear/numbness was catalytic rather than debilitating? What contributed to that moment?

8. What was the bravest thing you saw somebody else do recently?

9. What is the bravest thing you’ve wanted to do but haven’t? What/who would you need in your life to make the leap?

10. Where do you still want to push…

    1. Your political imagination?

    2. The depth and breadth of your connections?

    3. Your awareness of how we got here and the interconnectedness of struggles for your justice?

    4. Your creativity, boldness, humility, heart?

11. When, in the last three months, did you feel the most loved?

12. When did you feel the most alone?

13. When you’ve been at your lowest (emotionally, spiritually, tangibly, materially), what kind of community did you wish you had around you?

14. With whom can you share that wish? Who can you call or text and say “hey, would you like to offer ______ space with me, because I sure could use it?”

15. Who haven’t you checked in on in a while?

16. When was a moment that you tried to do something these past few months but you aren’t sure if it helped or mattered? What does that make you think?

17. What do you wish somebody else was doing right now?

18. What if you were the person who somebody else was waiting for?

19. What would help you take that next right step?

20. Where could we be a year from now if you did?

End notes:

1. Registration is still open for the two bonus Barnraisers Project “How To Actually Build Community” classes (it’s the same class that I ran earlier this year, but I added a couple of sessions because of super high demand). Thursday, April 24th at 9:30 AM CT and Sunday, April 27th at 3:00 PM CT. Both classes are free, virtual and two hours long. REGISTER HERE!

2. It is such a gift to be able to offer all of this (the writing and the classes) free of charge. How can I do it? Because, as you likely know by now, every week I put a little note at the bottom here about how this work is possible because paid subscribers chip in for everybody’s benefit, and every week a few more folks raise their hand and say “hey, that can be me.” Thanks, as always, for being one of those rad (and profoundly appreciated) hand raisers.

3. Here’s this week’s “Musk and Trump don’t care about you” sticker in the wild, right outside the iconic Bulls Athletic Park in Durham, North Carolina. Since receiving this picture, I’ve been thinking about how the characters in the 1988 motion picture Bull Durham would respond to this political moment. Do you think Tim Robbins’ character (Ebby Calvin “Nuke” Laloosh) would stand up to fascism? Let’s say yes.

   Also, do you want a sticker? Can you commit to putting it up in a public place (ideally where it’ll be seen by people who don’t already share your politics)? I’m still sending them out (once again, for free!) but I’ve got a big backlog so it might be a minute.