The Overwhelmed Feminist Mother’s 20 Stages of Activism: The First 3 Weeks


1. Dread Inauguration Day for weeks; hope like hell that there are enough (or any?) faithless electors to stop the reality of President Trump. Call, email, and postcard them all, begging for faithless votes.

2. Hope failed. Drink too much on Inauguration Day.

3. Become egregiously outraged by every single thing taking place in American politics as of Jan 20th, 2017.

4. Attend Women’s March on Jan 21st, 2017. Feel inspired! Feel motivated! There’s hope! Send postcards to Paul Ryan and state Senators! Sign up for Black Lives Matter march in April! Sign all the petitions!

5. Read the news. Lose will to live. Make a few phone calls to Senators and send a few emails to state reps. Feel less inspired and motivated.

6. Read the news every day for the next week. Lose all the hope.

7. Drink too much for the next week.

8. Stop reading news.

9. Stop checking Facebook as frequently.

10. Hear about DeVos and become egregiously outraged once again. Rant to everyone within earshot that a woman who doesn’t know the difference between growth and proficiency CANNOT BE IN CHARGE OF SCHOOLS. Join NEA activist list.

11. Call and email Senators relentlessly until they confirm that they will vote No on DeVos.

12. Discover that it worked! My Senators will vote no! Feel vindicated! Celebrate! Hope has returned!

13. Muslim ban. What year is it? Begin cataloguing dystopian novels and films to begin preparing for apocalypse. Feel panic build.

14. Watch protests in airports within 12 hours. Lawyers stationed at airports to help. There are good people out there. Begin to believe that maybe we’re not all awful garbage people.

15. Watch Democrats host 24-hour marathon to protest DeVos! They are taking a stand! This can’t be in vain! Hope springs eternal!

16. Pence votes in DeVos. Woman who believes guns are okay in schools because grizzlies is now in charge of United States Education system. Fuck. Sense of impending doom solidifies.

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17. Stop looking at news, social media, and any television that isn’t escapist entirely. Stop showering. Stop, for the most part, speaking to people.

18. Fall down extensive online window-shopping hole. Consider piercing nose? Wonder why all the things I wanted to do at 19 are suddenly intriguing again. Resolve to start wearing a lot more eyeliner and black.

19. Realize that paralysis is not helping anything. Continue avoiding social media and human interaction, but shower. Consider small ways to help and make a tiny list of doable actions. Open curtains.

20. Take deep breathe. Read this. Re-read my own post-holiday self-care tips. Make plans to meet a human friend for lunch. Schedule first haircut in a year and a half. Cross one thing of tiny list of actions. Resolve to do the same tomorrow.

* * *

This sucks, you guys. It sucks for pretty much all of us in a variety of different ways. Because while the suck-fest that is the United States Government continues to mow us all down, we also have to go about life and, you know, keep our kids fed and alive. And that's hard enough already. We're tired.

But I'm learning (and re-learning, and re-learning) that it sucks a WHOLE LOT LESS if we do this stuff together. So, join the Women's March 100 Days of Action, or create a group for activism (like via Solidarity Sundays as Christina has, HOLLA Kate Schatz), or just meet a friend for coffee and discuss how you can pay off some local students' reduced lunch debt at a nearby school or donate time or money to your local immigration law office.

Just - let's do this together, Smarties. Because we can't change the world all by ourselves. Remember? IT TAKES A DAMN VILLAGE. Tiny, measurable baby steps.

Now. When are we meeting at the tattoo and piercing parlor?

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About Shannon

© Designed by J. Terriq   ue in 2015

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