Very early in the morning of Jan. 20, a lot of us woke to the sound of the loudest thunder. Then, the sky opened up and it rained, hard. The rain hit sideways against our windows, maybe guided by the forces of Eolo, the Greek god of the winds. The goddess Oyá, representing the Afro Cuban Orishas, was also certainly present, since she reigns over lightning, thunder, winds… life and death. It was not a long outburst, but long enough to interrupt our sleep. These gods and goddesses have a way to screw around with us mere mortals.
Once rudely awakened, my first thoughts were about the impending coronation of our Pussy-Grabber President. Somehow, I felt as if the heavens had swung open its doors and their wild cacophony previewed protests that took place in the next 48 hours, all over the nation.
In the air, since Nov. 8, feelings of gloom and disappointment have been the norm. To be truthful, the election of Trump has made many people happy, especially in rural areas and mainly among white voters representing a large portion of the poor working (or not) class, who fell for Trump’s populist appeal.
Nevertheless, many others—most likely the majority—are unhappy… and afraid. What is he going to do? What can we do? Is this a preamble to the end of it all? The apocalypse now?
I am not here to join some gloomy predictions. On the contrary, I feel that this election presents us with an opportunity to reignite the engines of progressive and radical activism, long dormant after eight years of a rather mute acceptance of contradictory policies set up by the government of Barack Obama.
There is no doubt that the Obamas were charming, fun and good looking. Drones were not. Massive deportation was not. Eight ongoing wars are not. Banks too big to fail are not. Guantanamo prison is definitely not. “Obamacare” was a good beginning, but sorely lacking. A thin gauze for a deep wound. Let us be clear on that. All of the above were (and remain) unacceptable realities of the recent eight years.
In a way, the fact that Obama was the first African American president was important, especially considering the skin-deep nature of this country. Yet, the fact that he was black (and white, really) and a Democrat, kept his administration quite protected from liberal, progressive and/or radical criticism. Confusion reigned. People held back their punches, bit their lips, looked the other way and acquiesced.
Awakened by the thunder, I thought that now an opportunity had also awaken: The chance to build a strong wall. I am not talking about a wall that separates us from our neighbors, but a wall-to-wall gathering of common goals and reasons to confront this new version of plutocracy, personified by Trump and the obscenely rich men and women that he will hide behind, the members of his cabinet.
Later on that day, following the thunder and lightning show, I was tuned in to KPFA Radio, where I heard an interview with Tim Paulsen, president of the San Francisco Labor Council. Something he said, repeatedly caught my attention: “The best organizer for the workers is a bad boss. With Trump, we’ve got the worst boss!” Thus, Paulsen predicted that the workers of this country, not just those from the Bay Area, will be inspired to act, to resist, perhaps to create the wall I speak of?
As a teacher, I try to instill in my students the belief that, if we are clear about what we are fighting for, it is possible to succeed, every day. If we embrace a body of ideas—an ideology—with which we wake up in the morning and with which we go to bed at night, we will be fine.
Once we have connected to this body of ideas, recognizing that we have made a conscious decision to adopt and defend them, just about everything we do will be colored by that ideology. But do we must! We must act! It is not a question of embracing an ideology and then rest, immobile, inactive. We must join the daily fracas!
We must help to build this wall of resistance to whatever disagreeable policies are aimed at us. There will be many, but we can win, every day, if we follow our beliefs. In the process, by our actions, we will help to raise our personal and our collective consciousness.
I will quote one of my favorite writers, the Portuguese José Saramago, Nobel Prize in Literature, 1998:
“Words were not given to us in order to conceal our thoughts… If I’m sincere today, what does it matter if I regret it tomorrow?”
So, let us write, speak, or scream our truths. That wall will be born through our daily actions. Even our apparently small acts of resistance are helpful and necessary.
Confident on our collective strength, we will challenge the evil winds of Trumpism and scream back, like King Lear does to a raging storm: “Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage! Blow!”
Our wall will resist. It will not be brought down by a big bad bawdy bag of hot wind!