you are not alone

It’s lonely here.

Not the loneliness of solitude, but the loneliness of a crowd.

And this, of course, is worse. Because it requires more than changing one’s surroundings. Requires no less than changing the direction of the crowd.

And these days, the odds of doing so seem pretty bleak.

For this crowd does not seem to change course—indeed, does not seem to stop—for anything.

Not for the hundreds of thousands of migrants crossing oceans and walking sixty miles of desert.

Not for the tens of thousands of government workers laid off and clearing offices in thirty minutes.

Not for myriad conflicts of interest.

Not for ignored court decrees.

Not for ignored Congressional budgets.

Not for the banning of words like diversity and climate.

Not for the spurning of global aid to Guyana and Chad.

Not for the naked colonization in Gaza and Ukraine.

Not for the renewed imperialism in Greenland and Panama.

Not for the dissolution of independent agencies.

Not for the attacks on anyone who disagrees.

The crowd claims that this is democracy in action, that Trump’s securing of nearly 32% of the electorate—which translated into slightly less than 50% of those who cast a ballot—gave him a mandate to deliver on campaign promises.

Perhaps one could say this is true.

Except that this has entailed ignoring the budget and dismantling the independent agencies approved by Congress.

Except that this has entailed ignoring and attacking court rulings, leading the American Bar Association to write that these statements by the Trump Administration “threaten the very foundation of our constitutional system.”

Except that the means matter.

The end does not justify the means—the means are inherently connected to the ends. The means are the ends.

That’s the difference between living in something resembling a democracy and watching our country slip into—perhaps even hurtle toward—an autocracy.

In the face of this crowd, an assortment of people, acting as individuals, proclaims “over my dead body.” These individuals place signs outside their homes. They write their op-eds. They call their supposed representatives.

And the crowd steps over their bodies without a moment’s hesitation.

In this dying light, the choice before us begins to take on a sort of existential quality.

Of whether to submit to this scared stampede or become a martyr in its midst.

The problem is that each of these involves putting our heads down. Closing our eyes. Acting alone.

What makes a democracy worth having is the belief that we are not alone in this. The conviction that we are not alone in this and a willingness to act accordingly.

Today, I feel angry. Frustrated. Saddened. Burdened. And yes, lonely.

But I also feel this glimmer of possibility.

Because I look across this crowd, this churning mass of individuals, and see glimpses of all these feelings and so many more reflected back. And a whisper, perhaps an echo, rises from somewhere across the crowd and finds its way to me,

you are not alone.

And I will move heaven and earth - find a different way than this ceaseless crowd - to find the person who uttered these words to me.

Was it you?