by Adam East, reprinted from Medium |
Tuesday night’s election results devastated Helen and her fellow resistors. For two long years, they had pinned their hopes of stopping Trump and Pence on the 2018 midterm elections. Despite clear signs of election tampering and the obvious, and successful, attempts of voter suppression that had been accumulating even before Trump, they still believed in the system. Now, gathered in Helen and her partner Meredith’s apartment,the group had watched the house and senate results come in. Congress still belonged to the Republicans. Any hope of removing Trump and Pence through legislative branch would have to wait until 2020.
How could this have happened again? She had registered people to vote, canvassed, and even driven people to polling stations earlier in the day. And yet Trump, Pence, and the whole corrupt Republican establishment still held on to power. In fact, they even picked up some seats in the senate.
“So, is our democracy dead?” Meredith asked.
“There’s always 2020.” Helen replied.
“I think it’s too late.” Meredith said.
“We have to hold on to hope.”
“I’m going to bed.”
Helen said tearful good nights to her friends. They looked dazed as they left the small apartment.
As she made her way to bed, Helen thought back to the election night back in 2016, watching the results with many of the same people who had just left her apartment. She remembered how the cheerful, self-assured joy had slowly turned to dread as the totals changed from blue to red. How could such a vile, racist, monster win the presidency? She remembered clutching tight to Meredith, both sobbing. The next night, the couple had joined thousands of people who marched through the streets, shutting down the Congress Street bridge with chants of “No Trump, No KKK, No Racist USA.” The spontaneous demonstration had made Helen feel powerful, but the next night after work she was in her apartment, alone with Meredith. It would be two months before she attended another demonstration.
In the two years since that night, Helen and her friends had attended multiple protests. That first spring it seemed that every other weekend they were at the capitol. The women’s march, the tax march, the march for the climate, the march for immigrants, the march for science, the no ban no wall march. Each march had varied in size, but surrounding herself with fellow resistors had made Helen feel connected. She felt like she was really standing up to the administration she vehemently opposed.
After the summer the protests dwindled. The one-year anniversary of the women’s march brought Helen back to the streets, first to city hall and then marching down congress to the capitol. The crowd was smaller, and the message was more focused on voting in the coming elections. Still, Helen felt like she was part of something fighting the horrible man in office. She marched again with the March for Our Lives. She remembered feeling hope at all the young faces demanding change. While she and her friends had been attending occasional protests, Trump and his allies had marched on with their attacks on immigrants, refugees, women, the poor, and the environment. There were occasional setbacks, but the regime pushed on with their agenda of returning the United States to a ruthless imperial power controlled by white men. Two conservative white men had already been appointed to the supreme court, positions they would hold for life.
Now, Helen felt an even heavier sense of dread.
* * *
The next morning Helen woke up late. Meredith had already left for work, but as Helen walked into the kitchen, she saw a note.
“When one door closes, another one opens. Love you and stay strong. -M”
Helen smiled at the gesture, although she didn’t know if Meredith agreed with the sentiment or was being cheeky. As she quickly ate breakfast and drank her coffee, Helen tuned in and out to the familiar voices from the radio.
“Reports of Possible election hacking.”
“Alleged voter intimidation.”
“A recount in the race in Texas.”
On her walk to work, Helen lost herself in her music. Before she knew it, she had arrived at the school. The day passed in a blur. She found some comfort in the smiles of her students. She noticed that they seemed less impacted by this election than when Trump had won two years ago. That Wednesday in 2016, her students had entered in a somber mood. Carrying the weight of the then President-Elects racist rants that targeted their families, some cried and many expressed fears for their parents’ safety. Today, they seemed blissfully unaware of the previous night’s elections.
After her last student had been picked up Helen rushed back to her room, eager to get home, away from her coworkers. She quickly packed her things and headed to the door. As she left the school, her eyes wandered to the sky to watch the clouds. She took a moment to breathe and calm down. Her school had been pushing mindfulness practices and Helen had actually taken a liking to them. After a minute of deep breaths and stillness, Helen started her journey home. She lived about a half mile from the school. As she neared the light at Lansing, she saw a small group of people wearing black shirts and holding clipboards and signs. Helen quickly read one of the black and white posters.
“DRIVE OUT THE TRUMP PENCE REGIME.”
As Helen neared the trio, she made eye contact with one of the organizers.
“Hey there, are you ready to end this nightmare of a presidency?” The woman asked.
“What do you mean? We lost the elections.”
“So we continue the fight. Elections don’t give Trump the right terrorize people. It’s up to us to denounce and put an end to his awful policies. I’m Sandy, what’s your name?”
“Helen.”
“Well, Helen, I’m with Refuse Fascism, a nationwide movement working to get Trump and Pence to step down, like they did in South Korea in 2016.”
“I didn’t know that happened,” Helen said
“For months, the people of South Korea held rallies to get their corrupt President to step down and they won! President Park Geun-hye stepped down and new elections were held. We can do the same thing here. We’re having a kick-off Rally this Saturday at 10 at the capitol.”
“I think I could make it. I haven’t been to a march in awhile. That might make me feel better.”
“Here take some fliers, tell your friends.”
“Sure.”
“Hope to see you Saturday!”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Helen skimmed the flier as she continued the walk home.
“In the name of humanity we refuse to accept a fascist America.”
Helen wondered about the word fascism. She saw images of Nazis and concentration camps, then started thinking about the detention centers that still housed children separated from their parents. Helen decided to ask Meredith what she thought of the comparison.
As Helen approached their apartment, she saw Meredith’s car out front. She felt anxious to discuss the flier and the rally. Even if the goal seemed unattainable, perhaps this could work. It had in South Korea, or so Sandy had said. And at this point, any action felt better than nothing. Helen took out her keys as she arrived at the door. She gently unlocked the door and pushed it open.
“Hey love,” Helen said as she walked into the apartment.
“Hello dear,” Meredith responded.
“How’d your day go?”
“Exhausting. I felt like I was walking through a dream. A nightmare, really. What about you?”
“Mine started off pretty similar but it just turned around. Have you heard of a group called Refuse Fascism?” Helen asked.
“No. Why?” Meredith said.
“I ran into some people organizing for them. They’re having a rally this Saturday calling on Trump and Pence to step down from power.”
“Are they really trying to claim that Trump and Pence are fascists?”
“I guess so. You don’t think that term fits?”
“Well we just had elections so I would say we’re still a democracy. Even if our side didn’t win.”
“Yeah, but what about the accusations of election interference, or his attacks on journalists?”
“Honey, they haven’t proved anything. Besides, Hitler killed over 6 million people. Even if we abhor Trump, we can’t claim that he’s that bad.”
“I suppose. It made me think of the detention centers. Aren’t there still children who haven’t been reunited with their families? Do you really think Trump cares about them?”
“Obviously he doesn’t, but there aren’t gas chambers at those camps. And we the people were able to get him to stop the family separations, remember?”
“Are you sure? I’ve read rumors that they are still doing it. And ICE just got increased funding, remember? Also, what do you think of this quote from their flier. ‘Even as the Trump/Pence Regime is moving fast, they have not yet fully consolidated their power, or, as yet, been able to implement their full program. But, this is their objective and it is very possible. It might only take a single serious crisis — international or domestic — for this regime to drop the hammer. We do not have much time.’ If he stays in power, what if he does start killing people?”
“Oh Helen, they sound like Alex Jones or something.”
“Well, even if that’s too alarmist, they were talking about South Korea. Did you know they were able to get their president to step down through protesting back in 2016?”
“I think I remember that. And they think they can do that to Trump?”
“That’s what their goal is.”
“That seems so daunting.”
“That doesn’t make it impossible. It’s like I’m always telling my students. You gotta have a growth mindset.”
“Well, at least it’s got you all worked up. I thought for sure you’d be in a funk after last night.”
“I was. But this feels right. I’m gonna go to their rally on Saturday. Will you come with?
“If it makes you happy, sure.”
“It definitely would, baby.”
Helen hugged Meredith and laughed. They stayed there in each other’s embrace for a few seconds, enjoying the warmth and love they shared.
The next two days passed quickly. At school, Helen tried to recruit a few of her like-minded colleagues, although not all of them were willing to come. After work, she also reached out to friends, many of whom were eager to send a message of defiance. Friday night after work, Helen and Meredith hosted a small sign-making party. The group drank wine, listened to resistance music, and compared puns and slogans. They laughed and talked through most of the evening, sometimes even breaking out into song. Around ten, their friends left, and Helen and Meredith made their way to the bedroom. They changed into their pajamas and brushed their teeth. As they crawled into bed, Helen asked,
“Are you nervous?”
“A little. But I know I’ll be with you and other people I love.” Meredith responded.
“Also, I’m excited to take a stand after Tuesday night. I can’t believe he’s been in power for two whole years.”
“Ugh, me either. I am so ready to wake up and not dread turning on the news. This really feels like we’re taking matters into our own hands.”
* * *
Helen and Meredith took the bus downtown with their friends. A few other groups sat on the bus holding signs. The driver looked at them and asked,
“Is there some sort of rally?”
“Yeah, we’re calling on Trump to step down from office. We are no longer willing to put up with his racist nonsense.” Meredith replied.
“Well good luck to you,” she said.
“Thanks”
The bus dropped them off a few blocks from city hall. As they got off, Helen introduced herself to another group of protesters. They had also heard about the rally from an organizer on the street. The two groups joined forces and made the short walk to the rally. As they approached, Helen could see a relatively large group of people already gathered, maybe a few hundred people. She had been to protests with less people in the past two years. As the group found a place to stand, multiple large banners drew Helen’s attention.
One read “Climate Change is Happening. Keep it in the ground.” Another included a scene of an ICE agent tearing a child from her family, with the slogan “Families Belong Together.” Her favorite banner consisted of an assortment of Rosie the Riveter look-alikes with the tagline “A Woman’s Place is in the Revolution.”
The newly formed group discussed their various interpretations of the Call issued by Refuse Fascism. Some felt strongly that the threats described in the document should be heeded to the letter. Others decried the use of the word fascism, but did agree with the goal of removing Trump and Pence from office. Helen found the discussion interesting, but thought of the Shakespeare quote “A rose by any other name.” No matter what word, if any, could accurately describe Trump and Pence, she still felt deep in her heart they were a threat to so many lives, and needed to be removed from office.
Once the speakers started, Helen decided she didn’t want to stand in one place. Instead, she chose to walk around and observe the crowd. The sheer variety of people represented in the group moved Helen to tears. Children, high school students, men, women, people of all colors. She also saw numerous signs that brought a smile to her face. One of her favorites said “Don’t Let Trump Normalize Hate.”
After the speakers finished, Helen worked her way back to the group. Even though she hadn’t listened to the speeches, she felt very motivated and engaged. When she got within earshot of her friends, she could hear they had also been inspired by the rally. Helen walked up to Meredith, grinning from ear to ear, and gave her a big hug. The group planned ways to get more people to the next rally. Meredith had also arranged to host another sign-making party with a new friend named Javier. Throughout the journey home, Helen was bursting with an overwhelming sense of power, solidarity, and connection.
* * *
In the three weeks since that first Saturday, the protests had grown to all 50 states. With the hope of resolving the crisis through winning the midterms no longer on the table, support for sustained protests grew exponentially. At the most recent weekend, the crowds swelled to over 10 million people nationwide. The upcoming Saturday, there were projections of even bigger crowds, and a rumor The Dixie Chicks would be performing at the Austin protest. Helen couldn’t wait. She had started protesting daily with another protest group she had met at the rallies, “Stand on Every Corner.” They had also been organizing protests around the country since the summer. The two groups had both grown in size, growing the number of protests across the country.
Each evening, Helen and Meredith had stood on the street with a group of about ten to twenty people, holding signs and urging people to join the growing movement. So many people honked and waved in support. People walking by would engage in debate, many even signing up to protest. A small number of people yelled, or flipped them off, but the group stayed strong and continued advocating against Trump. There were media reports that Trump was holding a big press conference Saturday afternoon. Helen and other organizers thought this might be the day he finally admitted defeat.
* * *
Saturday morning, Helen woke feeling lighthearted, yet powerful. She could feel Meredith still sleeping next to her. Helen took a few minutes to just enjoy the peace in their bed, with her lover breathing calmly beside her. Eventually, she put her arm around Meredith and gently squeezed her.
“Honey, you ready to wake up?” She said softly.
“Mmm what time is it?”
“Time to go make history.” Helen laughed
“Oh really” Meredith chuckled, turning to face her partner.
“Yeah really.” Helen smiled.
The two lovers held tightly to each other, feeling each others chest rise and fall with their breaths.
“I’m gonna get ready.” Helen said.
“I’ll make the coffee,” Meredith replied.
The two women quickly made breakfast and prepared their packs for the day. Water, snacks, sunscreen, fliers, a first aid kit, sharpies, a battery charger for their phones, all the necessities for the rally. When they finished, they made their way to the bus stop, meeting up with a few new friends from the neighborhood. The bus stop was crowded, and when the bus finally showed up, there was barely any room for them all. Once they boarded, they could hear people on the bus happily engaged in conversations describing their own experiences at previous rallies.
As the bus neared the capitol, Helen, Meredith and their small group picked up their backpacks and readied themselves. As they made their way toward the exit, the entire bus got off along with them.
“Give ’em hell” The busdriver shouted, raising a fist in the air.
After walking a few blocks to city hall, the group found a spot to sit and watch the speakers. Since that first Saturday, there had been a rotating queue of faith leaders, union leaders, activists, scientists, teachers, musicians, poets, students, and politicians all sharing encouraging words, poems, songs, and advice to the growing crowd. Meredith had even gone up at one point to describe her own reasons for opposing the whole regime. One of Helen’s favorite moments had been a Zumba instructor leading the demonstrators in dances to a few songs.
Today’s rally felt more charged than usual. Everywhere she looked, Helen could see people smiling, laughing, or talking excitedly with those around them. Helen decided again to walk around the crowd, although the size of the rally today made it more difficult to traverse. She could feel the energy of the crowd, excited to take in all the different people and signs. As she slowly made her way through the crowd, Helen could hear the various speakers describing how different communities had come together, how people of all backgrounds had decided they could no longer wait for the politicians to do what needed to be done.
As always, there were chants of
“Show me what democracy looks like! This is what Democracy looks like.”
After a few of the speakers, the time for Trump’s announcement had arrived. A hush grew over the crowd, as they eagerly awaited the relaying of Trump’s press conference. Helen felt a rush of excitement. The speaker at the podium shared a summary of the announcement.
“Trump and Pence have stepped down. A special election is going to be held in the coming weeks with paper ballots. We did it.” The crowd at city hall erupted in cheers. Helen and Meredith grabbed hands and started jumping and shouting with the crowd. Helen felt a wave of disbelief sweep over her entire being. They’d done it. Her disbelief turned to joy and she turned and hugged Meredith.
“We won.”
“Now we can get back to brunch.”