I was born in 1967. Growing up in the 70’s and 80’s, I had the enormous good fortune to live in an America that still believed its own myths. My family had its struggles, but I look back on those days now with a strange sort of guilt. Despite the litany of ugly things that could be said about the era of my youth, in comparison to 2025 America, it was a wonderful, innocent time. Of course, society then was structured to keep it that way for straight, white, cisgender boys like me. The Civil Rights movement had changed the nation (to a certain degree). The Vietnam War was over. The 70’s were all about “Have a Nice Day” and smiley faces. The Catholic church of my youth was one of folk music and inclusion. I grew up believing that the moral arc of the universe really did bend toward justice, and that my country would continue to evolve toward true equality for all people.
For a long time, I believed we were moving in that direction. It’s true that for every two steps forward we took a step backward, but laws were made, one after another, to help level the playing field, and to protect people who were not made in the image of what the worst of humanity perceives as the “factory default.” Marriage equality became the law of the land. American society seemed to embrace the truth, that sexuality was not a choice. Our culture embraced the truth that diversity is healthy and desirable, that each of us deserves to share in the freedom promised by our founders: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. There were factions who pushed back, hatred still simmered, but I believed we were on the road to fulfilling the only aspirations that truly matter as a nation. Growing up, I never would have imagined how many trans people I would know, and call my friends. When I imagined how tortured they must have been by confining themselves inside identities that could only feel like costumes, or prisons, I was elated to see them embrace their true selves, and show them to the world. This was a promise that we were on the way to being the America I’d always believed we would one day become. The kind of society I was always taught—both in church and in school—that we all believed in.
I was such a fool.
The first election of Barack Obama to the Oval Office was the pinnacle of my faith in the future of the United States of America. It’s been all downhill from there. Generations of spoiled white boys who’d been told they were special—that they were better and more important than anyone who wasn’t white, straight, or male—raged with bitterness and resentment. Their parents and grandparents raised them to feel entitled to power, and to believe that any deprivation in their lives was because the things to which they were entitled had been stolen by “others.” Society had been carefully constructed to continue the illusion that they were better and more deserving, and any effort to shatter that illusion they could only see as an attack on the societal position they saw as rightfully theirs.
Now, here we are. Petulant, raging white men accumulated unimaginable wealth, manipulated ignorant, also raging white men without a pot to piss in, so they believe that the reason they are not as wealthy as their idols is because of women, or Black people, or immigrants, or LGBTQ+ people. Rich or poor, these hideous men are full of spite and resentment and cruelty, and they want to hurt anyone whose existence ever made them feel like maybe they weren’t as special as mommy and daddy promised.
They are desperately trying to put the genie back into the bottle. They’ll go to any lengths to make that happen. If they have to jail people, they will happily do that. If they have to hurt people—and, let’s be honest, even if they have to kill people—they will rejoice in the pain and sorrow that ensue.
It’s no surprise that the people who are their immediate targets are out there protesting, are speaking out online and in public spaces, are gathering, are committing acts of civil disobedience. LGBTQ+ folks, BIPOC people, immigrants, women, Native Americans...they raise their voices to say there is no putting the genie back into the bottle. Our society is diverse. These putrid fascists can’t erase that fact. The fantasy these men have about living inside an episode of Mad Men is just that, a fantasy. But standing up to that fantasy is going to be difficult and painful and costly in so many ways.
I could avoid all of that. If you’re a straight, white, cisgender man like me, you could avoid it, too. You could stay silent and turn away. If you do that, you’ll still suffer the economic hardships that will come, but maybe you won’t be targeted. You’ll still have to live in the oppressive fascist state these men envision, but they won’t single you out. You could keep your head down and your tongue silent.
But then you’d be a Nazi, too.
I want the nation I was taught we were building toward. I want each of us to be treated with dignity and allowed the rights the founders promised—life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I want equality and justice. If I were to stay silent when others are being attacked and oppressed, when the bastards are trying to shove the genie back into the bottle, I’d be just as bad as they are. Hell, I’d be worse.
There are no superheroes. Nobody is coming to save us, to build the nation we’re meant to be striving for. There’s just us. Me, and you. The fascist oligarchy is depending on you to let it happen. They’re doing everything they can to make you feel like there’s nothing you can do, but they’re lying to you. The most important thing for you to do is be vocal, and be seen. Oppose them loudly and publicly. When there’s a gathering in protest, get out there.
I attended a protest a few days ago with a dear friend. In a sea of more colorful faces, with more colorful clothing and colorful flags, with much more experience at these things and greater comfort with the usual chants, I’m sure we looked quite unexciting. We are, after all, that mythical “factory default.” But we were far from alone. There were plenty of others like us who aren’t among the fascists’ immediate targets, and it lifted my heart to see. It’s vital that the cameras recording these events show the true diversity of those who stand against cruelty and tyranny. But they only way to do that is for you to be there. Show others that you won’t be silent, in hopes that you will inspire them to also raise their voices, to open their eyes, to come out and protest.
Simply put, either you believe in equality and justice for all, or you don’t believe in equality and justice. If you do, then stand up. Speak out. Fight for love and kindness and empathy, and against hatred and cruelty and greed.
Silence truly is complicity.
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