One month post-inauguration: searching for salvation

The bad news is the good news: we are the ones we've been waiting for

Lago Atitlán, from a trip earlier this month: beauty born of destruction (a lake in a volcanic caldera)

Today marks one month since the inauguration: it feels like an eternity. I feel many things watching the spectacle of an unelected billionaire take an axe to pillars of our already-fragile democracy: targeting the civil service, trans people and immigrants, diplomats and health professionals… with wanton disregard for the impact on the lives and livelihoods of human beings.

For me perhaps the most jarring feature of this moment is the yawning chasm between the brutality of the Trump Musk Administration’s actions… and the response. Or more accurately, the stunning absence of one. In the very moment when we need it most, the Democratic Party has utterly abdicated responsibility.

Each day brings a new outrage, a new shattering of democratic norms, a new Rubicon crossed: elevating a vaccine denier to the head of Health and Human Services; inviting the neo-fascist AfD to the table in Germany; elevating someone with virtually no relevant credentials to Secretary of Defense; blaming Ukraine for Russia’s invasion… and still, crickets from Washington. It feels like everyone is looking for the adult in the room, and slowly realizing that help isn’t coming. Those that got us into this mess (the “liberal” Democratic establishment) will not get us out.

We desperately need a vision people can rally behind, a sense of solidarity to encourage us in the face of this existential threat, and strategies and tactics that can give us a sense of a agency and efficacy that feels adequate to the moment.

So today I want to write about what we can do. I feel a version of what I felt on January 6th, 2021. The bad news: this is who we are. This is where we are. This is happening. The good news: this isn’t who we want to be. This isn’t where we want to be. We don’t want this to be happening.

What might a coordinated response commensurate to the gravity of this moment look like? The good news: I actually think that there is a quiet consensus emerging among movement leaders and strategists about the vision, principles, and practices that will help us navigate these turbulent waters. It’s wider and deeper than I’ve ever seen it… even if it’s not yet visible in the way it needs to be. I want to try to illuminate some of what I’m seeing, and invite others to bring their own sensemaking and visions to the table.

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1. Vive la résistance!

In 2016 we had a unifying narrative frame, a giant umbrella that served as the identity for our coordinated actions: the Resistance.

In 2024 the vibe is different; resistance isn’t it. I think that’s a good thing: it speaks to maturity and lessons learned from eight years of struggle.

To me what resistance got right was the idea that we won’t go along with the pillaging of our country: it was a powerful cry of “no” in the face of intolerable behavior. That’s incredibly important, and we need to hold on to that instinct.

Yet I think it missed three things:

1. As Carl Jung reminds us: what you resist, persists. The idea of resistance metaphorically centers our imagination on what we are resisting. It’s not enough to be against something; we have to be FOR something.

2. It accepts that we have less power. After all, the term originated in France as the cry of the oppressed against Nazi occupation. As Michelle Alexander beautifully wrote: we are the majority. Trump and his ilk are the authoritarian outliers.

3. The idea of resistance imagines that the problem lies outside of us. In fact, the reason the Trump phenomenon is so pernicious is because most of us are complicit with it in different and complicated ways.

And yet we do need something into which we can channel our energies, a vehicle for solidarity. A unifying narrative.

My own sense is the answer has something to do with refusing to be complicit. Withdrawing or withholding consent. The worst insult during WWII was to be a collaborator: to go along with the Nazis. We need to encourage people to refuse to go along. This is a powerful place where we all have agency: we always have the choice not to cooperate. Musk and Trump are fashioning themselves as kings. Yet kingdoms always depend on people going along… as the French revolution demonstrated. Ultimately all systems depend on the consent of the governed. It is incumbent upon us NOT to consent.

I resonated recently in a conversation with Bridgit Antoinette Evans about the notion of “cycle breakers”: people who refuse to be complicit any longer with systems of supremacy and oppression. The buck stops here.

We need to support people who make that choice… in the face of risks to their livelihoods.

2. Time to take to the streets! March 1st?

In the wake of the 2016 election we had the Women’s March: an immediate nationwide (and indeed global) mass demonstration of solidarity, putting the incoming administration on notice that a vocal majority of the population would push back against his vision. This provided the first concrete expression of our new identity in solidarity… and importantly, offered a tangible visible symbol of resistance in the form of the pink pussy hats.

What’s missing thus far from 2025 is this visible sense of national and international solidarity. It’s essential. Public demonstrations alone don’t usually change policy. But they do provide us with a sense of solidarity, mutuality, and courage. To know that we are part of a broader movement emboldens us to do the right thing when the time comes; to know that we aren’t alone.

We need to do it again. We need a nationwide gathering, one that can resonate beyond our national borders—we are not alone in facing down the rising specter of authoritarianism—and one that allows us to wear a tangible/visible symbol of solidarity. It has to be radically inclusive and not based on identity. I also think the gathering has to be fun: it has to find that balance between acknowledging the gravity/brutality of the moment… and offering a different way to be in relationship to it. We need hope; we need courage; we need joy.

And we need a symbol. Ideally everything is fractally consistent and reinforcing the identities and behaviors we want… and inviting others to join us. I’m not an expert in this stuff, but I personally find myself drawn to the polyamory symbol: the infinity heart (my newest tattoo!) Or unicorns. Ideally something that can be a bumper sticker, a wrist-band, a hat, a pin: something we can easily wear/brandish to signal solidarity and that can resonate across countries and cultures. Something widely available, that speaks for our values, and evokes positivity.

As for action, my instinct is to start small: a 15 minute walkout during the work week. A precursor to a general strike, or to a more targeted action. Everyone just stops what they’re doing and walks out. Into the streets. Maybe banging pots and pans. Maybe singing… who doesn’t love a good protest song? Signaling loudly and proudly: we will not go quietly into the night! I’d love to get students involved too: I’d like my kids to walk out (and their teachers too)… so important to do something small/manageable during the workweek.

It turns out that March 1st is Zero Discrimination Day: how about that as a place to start? Noon Pacific, 1pm Mountain, 2pm Central, 3pm Eastern, March 1st. A 15-minute walkout. To demonstrate our strength, our solidarity, our commitment, to let each other know that the resistance is alive and well… and smarter, deeper. Ready to meet this moment.

Also: I just learned of an emergent mobilization group called 50501 (50 protests, 50 states, 1 day)… doesn’t appear connected to any social justice movement infrastructure, but bless them for proposing something. They are advocating for March 4th (March Forth Against Monarchy). Still seems narrowly coordinated against this administration… which to me misses the broader point that Trump is a symptom of a deeper cause… but sounds like they’re doing some coordination to get the word out, and offer people a vehicle to express solidarity, which is hugely important. (The next step is to connect it to a broader vision/strategy so we don’t burn out).

3. We need a policy win: birthright citizenship?

Demonstrations of solidarity are necessary but insufficient: we also have to achieve tangible wins that affect people’s material lives. In 2016 we had No Ban No Wall: a spontaneous and coordinated inside/outside game to thwart the President’s most outrageous first initiative (inside being civil servants who refused to go along with flagrantly unconstitutional executive actions; outside being those in the streets signaling that the public is on the side of justice). Thousands of people swarming to airports to stand in solidarity with Muslims and immigrants… and succeeding in notching a key early win: the first tangible victory of the Resistance. It also showed very clearly that we wouldn’t stand idly by while the most vulnerable among us were targeted.

Ideally this is something that shows our values, that appeals to a broad swath of the country, and that we can win on. I am not an expert on this either, but my sense is birthright citizenship is probably the place to start: something absolutely foundational to our country, and a key pillar in pushing back against the ethno-nationalist agenda. A place to echo our core message: we belong here. We all belong, and refuse to be divided. United we stand.

We already have a preliminary success: so far appeals courts have blocked the order, and it could escalate to the Supreme Court in a matter of days. This is a time/place for us to make a public stand about what we stand for as a country… and even if we lose (if the Supreme Court were to overturn a century of established case law) it’s a powerful opportunity to state our values clearly to our fellow residents and the rest of the world.

4. A blueprint for organizing at national scale… locally

In 2016 we had Indivisible: a blueprint for organizing and sustaining ongoing activity. It was the first effort to build enduring infrastructure—outside the Democratic Party!—to maintain the momentum of the Resistance and channel it into effective political action over time. This built on the success of the Tea Party, and became a key pillar in efforts to retake the House in the 2018 midterm elections.

We have rightly grown skeptical of betting on electoral politics, and rightly distrustful of the Democratic Party as capable of advocating for or protecting our interests. After all, the Indivisible effort alongside powerful social movements ushered in the Squad in 2018… only to be thwarted, stifled, and isolated at every turn by the plutocratic gerontocracy at the top of the Party.

But the broader lesson holds: we need to offer people a place-based and community-centered opportunity to take collective action. The most tangible and important thing people can do: build community, and gather with others. To have the felt experience of belonging to something larger than ourselves, united in common purpose with kindred spirits around the country.

I don’t see an obvious heir-apparent at the moment, though my initial sense is that the most effective and smart group with national scale at the moment is SURJ: Showing up for Racial Justice. The positive: politically savvy, clear-eyed about the authoritarian threat, a loose chapter/franchise model with easy national uptake, broadly inclusive values. Room for improvement: primarily targeting White folks (not the vehicle for multiracial organizing); still adopts a “fight” frame; and uses win/lose logic… which I think keeps us trapped in the current oppositional paradigm.

I still long for a political home that can invite people into the practice of building belonging where they live. I don’t see it yet… but the need remains urgent, and it has to bootstrap on existing infrastructure to respond rapidly to the moment.

5. Follow the movements!

My own reading of human history is that broad-based social movements are the single best vehicles for large-scale social transformation. So my attention will always be drawn to them (as one piece of a broader puzzle, which necessarily must also include institutions, electoral politics, etc.)

In 2016 we had the Fight Back Table: a movement-led coalition of progressive groups to coordinate strategy and tactics, centering BIPOC leadership and with broad support from core philanthropic partners.

Unfortunately, the progressive coalition has fractured. In 2016 the Left had a broad (but fragile) alliance against the incoming Trump administration between what I think of as money, politicos, and movement: Silicon Valley and the managerial elites; the DC/NY political/journalist/philanthropic class; and BIPOC-led social justice movements. It was this alliance that enabled the effective Resistance.

In 2024 only social justice movements have stayed the course in combatting the rise of authoritarianism. The money has split: Silicon Valley has turned largely for Trump, East Coast technocratic elites bet on the Biden/Harris ticket… and lost. Meanwhile the political establishment is wandering in the wilderness, lost with only themselves to blame.

While the headwinds we face are more formidable, the answer remains the same: follow the movements. The same folks who organized Fight Back are more deeply rooted, more interconnected, and more savvy than in 2016… and in my view they still offer the most promising avenue to collective action commensurate to the challenge.

Per everything else I’ve said here, it can’t be about “fight back” this time. Rather, it must be about what we’re building… inviting people into the hard but rewarding work of creating a country worthy of our aspirations. Indeed, this is where I take my cues: looking to those leaders who have consistently been right about both the threat we face and the antidote to it.

And it’s also my source of courage and hope: the people I am fortunate enough to learn from and be in relationship with are doing incredible work at different levels of scale to respond to this moment. The task before us: to make that work more visible in a way that can invite a larger movement… without putting a target on the backs of those most threatened by this administration.

There is a particular role for those of us insulated by some privilege from the worst ravages of this administration. We need to be the ones more on the front lines… a buffer to provide space and breathing room to the organizers and activists who we need to support in navigating us through this darkness.

Block, Bridge, Build: Refuse, Repair… Create?

We need a framework to help us orient to this moment: something that we can apply in whatever way suits our particular gifts, social location, and callings. The good folks at the Horizons Project—in my view one of the sharpest organizations about how to respond to the rise of authoritarianism—offer a framework called Block, Bridge, Build that I think can be a helpful starting point.

I love me some alliteration :-) and can get behind the framework as a useful heuristic. In particular I love that it helps us see our different roles in the broader movement: some of us are called to the front lines to oppose a particularly draconian action (block); others are called to build bridges across difference and bring new people into the movement (bridge); still others are called to build the new world we long for (build).

And: I find myself yearning for a bit more nuance. In particular a framework that acknowledges our own complicity, because I actually think it points to our greatest potential for transformation. As Dan Savage reminds us: where there is dissonance, there is hope.

Block Bridge Build implicitly assumes that we are “right” and have the answers, and that the task is to transform the “other side.” I think that’s half-right. Yes we do need to transform the other side… but I actually think the most effective way to do that is by transforming ourselves.

This is why I don’t talk about “smashing” the patriarchy: I think it’s the wrong metaphor, and misunderstands how patriarchy operates. It’s not out there: it’s inside us. To me this subtle shift is actually hugely important. I find myself called in a slightly different direction (I’m not wedded to these words, just trying to capture the idea/connotation… this is how I might implement the Block Bridge Build framework):

1. Refuse. This is the part about withholding consent, declining to cooperate with injustice. It’s taking responsibility for ourselves and our own integrity, and doesn’t require anyone else to change. It simply says: no. I will not. This is about breaking the cycle: refusing to perpetuate systems of supremacy and domination.

2. Repair. This feels increasingly central to everything. It’s about healing, but healing runs the risk of feeling like an internal job: repair reminds us that healing is relational, that it takes place interpersonally. We have all been traumatized by living in these systems, and we have all hurt each other. Repair asks that as we bridge across difference (which we do need to do!) that we are attentive to repairing the ruptures that have kept us separate.

3. Create. It bothers me that this isn’t alliterative, but I don’t think this moment calls for “re” anything. It’s not rebuild, renew, recreate. That’s what repair is about. No, this moment is calling for us to build and create something we’ve never had: a global community that embraces difference without allowing that difference to be a source of domination/subjugation… at global scale. Yes indigenous communities—especially in the pre-patriarchal era—found ways to cooperate across difference… but never at the scale this globalized moment requires.

Gesturing toward… a world where everyone belongs

(Borrowing this title from the Gesturing Toward Decolonial Futures collective… a source of inspiration).

I want to be so bold as to offer my own answers/intuitions here… and invite others to riff/play/nuance/co-create.

1. Belonging. No surprise to readers that I think this is the most compelling north star/vision, and it can’t be human-centric either: we are trying to create a world where we live in interdependent right relationship with all beings. This means EVERYONE: we cannot use “othering” in our movements; those are the master’s tools, and we won’t wield them. This is what I see as the biggest mistake social justice movements made in the Trump era: they assumed that people with privilege already belong (white people, men, etc.) But here’s the reality of living under systems of oppression (whether as oppressor or oppressed, and most of us hold both roles concurrently): none of us belong. Which means we all have something to gain.

2. We are liberationists. I want to offer this as the new identity, beyond liberal, progressive, radical, etc. A liberationist is a person committed to building a world where everyone belongs. One who commits to the three steps above: breaking the cycle of supremacy in themselves and their relationships, repairing the rupture, and co-creating the new world we long for.

3. Fractal integrity: our core principles. We are doing something bold: we are trying to create a new culture. New norms for how we behave and how we treat each other. We need principles to guide us on how to orient to this world. I would offer the principles of Building Belonging as a place to start, a way to put our values into actionable practice. These are drawn from my own experience distilling best practices from successful social movements around the world (I wish I had a handy graphic here to circulate… anyone with skills out there?). If I had to put one stamp on it, I’d call it “fractal integrity” (a coinage from Kai Cheng Thom at our Belonging @ Scale convening in Borikén last month). Everything we do must be consistent with the world we are trying to create.

4. Principles into practice: building capacity for transformation. Ah yes: learning by doing. Practicing the world we want to create. Ideally this is the work of political home: communities of liberatory practice. Places where we can learn how to remain centered and grounded in our nervous systems amid conflict; where we can practice naming our needs and setting loving boundaries; where we can practice giving free rein to our imaginations to construct the worlds we long for. Crucially: we need more multiracial spaces to do this work. Yes there is still a need for caucus spaces, for the sense of relaxation and somatic safety that comes among people with shared cultural identities. And: we risk missing the deeper lesson here, that somatic safety and shared identity need not be a function of race or gender or class. Belonging is possible across difference… and we need more embodied experience feeling that truth.

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I intended this post to be a short riff on what this moment is calling for, born out of my own anger at the Democratic Party’s abdication of responsibility, my inspiration from being in dialogue with folks doing essential movement strategy and narrative work, and my felt sense of the hunger and desperation so many people are feeling for a sense of agency in the face of an existential threat.

I’d love to hear what others are seeing, emergent frameworks to help coordinate collective action, and narrative responses commensurate to the gravity of this moment. In the meantime: build community and connection where you live. We get through this together.

In community and solidarity,

Brian