Greetings from the Resistance!


Just a note to let you know I’m still here! Instead of writing blog posts, I’ve spent the last month writing postcards to public officials, protest slogans on signs and Facebook posts for the newly-formed Indivisible Oldham County, where we work together to “hold members of Congress accountable to the promises they make and the principles of democracy – advocating for healthcare, education, justice and equity for all.”

For a nonpartisan group in a mostly red state (and even redder county), Indivisible Oldham County is an impressive little group, averaging 25 active participants at our monthly meetings and more than 100 folks interacting on our Facebook page. We may never turn our county or state blue, but we will remind our elected officials that not all of their constituents are content with what’s happening on their watch.

At the opening of our last meeting, group leaders asked participants to share one way they resisted in the last month. It reminded me of conversations I have with friends who upcycle, recycle, or are simply creative in how they approach their life and/or art. It’s not about bragging or competing when we share what we’ve done, but about sharing some simple, everyday ways we can walk our talk. I especially like it when I can find something that feeds both my maker and my resister sides – for example, supporting more artists and businesses that invest part of their profits in causes that matter to me.

I bought the pile of postcards featured at the top of this post from peacesupplies.org and the artist Buck Down Designs. They were union-printed in Tucson, Arizona, by CWA Local 7026, and Peace Supplies is committed to using fair trade, sweat-free, and environmentally friendly materials. Plus, isn’t the art awesome? So awesome, in fact, I decided they shouldn’t only be sent to people who will groan when they receive one.

So, this week I’m sending postcards to folks who deserve a “thank you.” Sometimes it feels a bit like sending a message in a bottle – casting it into the sea, knowing there’s not much chance I’ll know its impact or get a response, at the same time knowing the chance is greater than if I do nothing at all.