The Irony of this Urgent Moment

Real resolve requires space and time to grow.

Years ago, in a fitness class I took with my colleagues, the instructor, who was petite and preternaturally bendy, would demonstrate a floor exercise she wanted us all to do. She’d then look at me, tall and decidedly unbendy, and say to no one in particular: “If this is not available to you, you can do it this way,” before showing us an alternate, easier move.

I thought of this a few weeks into the madness of the new administration when many of my friends and family were deliberately turning away from politics, tuning out the news and muttering, “This too shall pass.” In this case, that’s the easier posture — but for some reason, it just wasn’t available to me.

Before our very eyes, the rule of law was being trampled. Sensitive databases were being breached. The political order of the past 80 years was being upended. And of course the thing that has felt most urgent: real people were—are!—experiencing real harms. Civil servants, veterans, scientists, immigrants, journalists, educators, trans friends—and that’s just the U.S.-based groups targeted by the administration’s sweeping orders.

In the face of all that, I felt compelled to do something, especially since I have advantages (good health and at least a bit of free time) that many do not.

That said, the past 67 days of operating in high gear have been instructive:

First, the scale of the challenge has become clearer: this power grab has been in the works for decades. Major damage has already been done. And while they’ve made many unforced errors, the administration still has formidable advantages: a detailed operating manual, the richest man on earth, a vast propaganda machine, captive government agencies, immense firepower, and—perhaps most dangerously—unlimited reserves of shamelessness.

Adding to the challenge: there’s still no cohesive opposition; join one group of Democrats and you’ll likely end up fighting other Democrats, while the administration continues its devastating work unfazed.

What all this means: there are no quick fixes. Marches matter, but the work ahead involves way more: collectively, we have to arrive at a clear vision, build a strong coalition, and fight, day in and day out, for a new reality. Much of this painstaking work will be done in bit parts by millions of people operating in complete obscurity. Most days will be a total grind. There will be victories for sure, but there will also be setbacks…and those of us engaged in this fight, whether full-time or part-time, will need to remain engaged in some capacity not just through the next election cycle but (brace yourself) for the rest of our lives.

Personally, what I need if I’m going to do something hard for a long time is resolve. And I’m ornery: I don’t develop conviction being bossed around by organizers.

Working on the 2024 campaign last year, I had some dark days. Because I thought Biden should step down, I was a traitor? I was being exhorted to text my fellow Americans when I myself hate getting texts from strangers? Knocking on doors in Pennsylvania last fall, the overwhelming message from residents was: “Go away. Our lives don’t work, and we no longer trust politicians of any kind.” Nevertheless the assignment was to share stories about how effective canvassing was?

The near-constant cognitive dissonance left me with a strained expression—and that was before we lost.

What I’ve found in the months since is what on some level I’ve always known: I find resolve only after I dig deep and start to see the shape of a problem myself. Only after I become convinced that certain actions will be effective—or are at least worth trying and learning from.

So, here’s where I’ve landed:
The irony of this urgent moment is that many of us need to slow down and give ourselves time to think, even as we feel compelled to take action.

One place I’ll be doing this is live on Zoom—hopefully in conversation with some of you.

If you would like to join me and others who are thinking hard about this political moment, please send me a message. As soon as we settle on a good timeslot,* I’ll send you the link.

Hesitant? I promise you won’t be given assignments. This monthly gathering will simply be a space to think out loud, judgment-free. A space to explore your options and see where you land. Perhaps you will find conviction around a particular plan. Perhaps you won’t. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from a similar group I participate in (that one’s all about grappling with AI), it’s this: there’s no better way to find one’s way forward than in the company of other thoughtful humans.

Thanks for reading,
Kate

*I’m thinking of going with the first Monday of the month from 5-6 pm PT (8-9 pm ET), starting next week on April 7th. If this timeslot works for you, please let me know: kategacewalton@gmail.com If it doesn’t, but you’d like to participate, please email me with a few alternate times that would work for you. I’m anticipating that this group will be small, and I’ll do my level best to accommodate everyone who wants to join.