My brain is a hive of bees. I fear to let them out because the bees are angry. Sure, it would be a cathartic release for a moment, but what does an angry hive of bees do but drive people away? And so, I’m trying to stay soft and, in the words of Kristen LaValley, “fighting my own radicalization”.1

The following post is not me providing some prescriptive plan for others to follow. This is me getting vulnerable and sharing how I am personally choosing to navigate this moment in history. I will not get everything right. I will likely disappoint someone who reads this. You will probably read something you disagree with or makes you uncomfortable. That’s ok.

I’m not asking for a cheerleading squad or pats on the head or throwing down the gauntlet to battle it out in the comment section. I’m just sharing where I’m at. Maybe people will be challenged. Maybe someone will feel less alone. This is just me stumbling forward while recognizing you’re probably doing the same thing. 

The “Dangerous” Other

I grew up under a highly structured, legalistic system of evangelical Christian theology. You had to abide by a strict set of rules or you were rebelling against “God-ordained authority” and incurring His holy wrath on your life. Every day was a tightrope walk with the fear of being kicked out if you didn’t get it right. This meant my environment was highly controlled. There were strict rules about who I could hang out with, what I was allowed to wear, what music I could listen to, which movies I was allowed to watch. If people weren’t like us, they were “other” and “dangerous”.  

I’ve experienced firsthand the damage of seeing anyone who is different from me as a “dangerous other”. It doesn’t breed understanding and nuance. It kills empathy. It dries up and withers the ground where growth should happen. In light of that, I don’t want to bring that same tight-fisted approach I was raised with into how I talk about the state of American politics. Namely, because the steps I took to leave legalism and the harmful views about others who live differently than me were paved by people gently (and firmly) educating me away from them. I’m trying not to let the bees out, but I can’t ignore the hum of the story—my story—I feel compelled to tell. 

Anxiety + Superiority Complex

When my husband and I were dating, I proudly argued with him that the real cause of the Civil War wasn’t slavery, it was state’s rights. I stood my ground, had (inaccurate) sources for my claims and looked down my nose at anyone who didn’t have access to this information yet.

Picture me as a combination of ignorance, immaturity, and gracelessness. You can imagine my tone and perspective when talking about other things like abortion, LGBTQIA+ rights, race, immigration or any other intense, important issue our country has had to navigate. I was an arrogant little homeschooled 18 year old with anxiety and a superiority complex. 

What changed? Besides the anxiety, a lot. 

Years later, I moved out into my own home and started listening, really listening, to people who didn’t believe, look, or think like I did. I wasn’t in my little echo chamber bubble anymore. I owned up to how ignorant, sheltered and privileged I’d been my whole life. I learned things. I unlearned things. I fact checked the education I received in regard to my country’s history and changed my mind based on new information. I hope that process never stops. 

But now, when I speak up and say things like, “Hey Christains, the way you take your stance is just as important as the stance you take.” I get a passive-aggressive DM from someone with, “I love Jesus” in their bio lecturing me on how I’m leading people astray. And then 15 people unfollow me and cancel their subscriptions. 

Since growing up into my own adult views, I realize that I am firmly for treating people like the actual humans they are. People are not talking points. People are not caricatures or some bogeyman version of them you’ve heard about on the internet. People are just humans. Real living, breathing, humans that God has intentionally made in His image. Every single one of them.

A World Off-Kilter

Years ago, when I watched the conservative party tilt towards Donald J. Trump’s vision for America, it felt like my world was off-kilter. This can’t be right. This won’t be good. What I didn’t know how to articulate then but do now is: I don’t want my country to only work and be a safe space for people that believe and act and look like I do. Every person in this country has the right to live their life—as long as it's not actively harming another person—in the ways they see fit. Is that so radical? Is that so wild of a take that you would question my belief in Jesus and unfollow me over it?

I still remember the vitriol that Beth Moore endured when she spoke out publicly against Donald Trump the first time he ran for office. Her books were scrapped from Christian bookstore shelves. The dinner table was filled with conversations about how “lukewarm and liberal” she’d gotten. I just keep thinking now: maybe if more people would’ve had the courage of Beth Moore the American Evangelical Church wouldn’t be where it is today. Maybe it wouldn’t have felt so comfortable throwing its weight in support of a candidate who proclaims he’s fighting to protect our faith while simultaneously making a mockery of it.2

“But have you fed them?”

Jesus didn’t control people. He didn’t force his gospel on them. He invited them in and respected them when they declined his teachings. Jesus made sure people were emotionally and physically safe first before he invited them to change their life. See also: the Pharisees bringing a woman before Jesus they believed needed to be stoned to death (John 8:2-11)

We’re living in a time where people think the nation is “turning back to God” because the 10 Commandments are being put back in classrooms. Those same people are simultaneously voting in people who, in the name of efficiency, are working to cut programs for free lunches in underprivileged schools.

In my county alone, 65% of the students in the public school system are economically disadvantaged. Our county gets 23% of the district’s budget for federal funding for school that provides things like school meals, special education services for kids with disabilities, teacher training, mental health support and arts and music programs. We homeschool our kids, but I don’t know how anyone with an ounce of empathy couldn’t see how the potential of losing that is devastating to think about. I don’t just want my kids to be safe and fed, I want their kids to be safe and fed too.

More and more, I think Jesus would look at the 10 commandments hanging in children’s classrooms and ask us, “But have you fed them?”

I’ve never voted for Donald Trump. Maybe, based on the circles I usually land in because of my upbringing, this is a shock to you. Ever since he came onto the political scene, I could not bring myself to vote for someone who is that brash, intentionally divisive and uncaring of people he disagrees with (to name a few of the things that deeply trouble me about him).

Watching him claim to be the candidate for the “Christian” party—and be supported and cheered on for seemingly doing so—hasn’t shaken the foundations of my faith, it shattered them. And Jesus is patiently helping me rebuild them on Him alone. 

We Don’t Need a Brash Businessman

Ever since Trump announced his candidacy, I’ve heard people defend him by saying, “Trump is a businessman, a real estate mogul. He’ll run our country like he runs his ventures. We didn’t need another corrupt, career politician!” To that I say, “Do you not think there’s such a thing as a corrupt, career businessman?”

And furthermore, a country is not a business. The two are not equivalent. If you choose (“choose” being the opportune word here) to work for someone who is actively causing you harm, stress and publicly degrading you anytime you disagree with him, you can choose to leave. Yes, it would be incredibly difficult to leave your job. You might lose money. You might have to start over. Things might be tight for a long time, but you could eventually find another place of employment. 

But in a country, if the person who influences legislation that turns the cogs of the government is actively causing you harm3, stress and publicly degrading you anytime you disagree with them, where can you go? For millions of Americans the, “If you don’t like it here, just leave!” option is not possible. 

As much as I loathe much of what goes on in the highest offices of the land on both sides of the aisle, I do not believe our country needs to be run “like a business”. In fact, it's actively harming our democracy to do so.  

I do believe much of our legislation needs reform, but the ruthless “efficiency” with which corporate America operates day-to-day—while in and of itself is problematic enough—shouldn’t be applied to the daily lives and rights of millions of living, breathing, infinitely diverse groups of people trying to exist in the country they call home. There is no “one size fits all” business-solution to the issues we all face. It’s easy to slash programs and take a chainsaw to budgets. It’s much harder to do the messy, intricate work to make a more perfect union for all who live here. 

And to Trump’s brash, dangerous approach to personal and diplomatic communications, another defensive response is: “That’s just the way he is! Why are people surprised when he’s crass and rude on social media or when he gets fired up in front of camera? He’s always been that way!”

To that I say: Just because someone has “always been that way” does not mean they are absolved from being held accountable for the harm they continue to inflict on others with their known behaviour. 

Many seem to think that Trump’s and his administration's action since starting his second term is a “show of strength”. But when this show of strength is alienating our allies, causing Russian officials to applaud what’s happening, and brutally gutting life-saving programs both foreign and domestic, I wonder what his “show of strength” is actually accomplishing for this country. 

I don’t know what the future of my country will be, but the vision Trump (and the people he surrounds himself with) are casting for it is one I am deeply concerned with and have been for a long time.

The Bees Are Still Angry

My mind still feels like a hive of angry bees. Bees are a terrifying force when they’re riled up. But I don’t want to just be riled up. I want the frustration, hurt and anger to move me in ways that are actually productive, not personally vindictive. 

What does that look like? It looks like picking up my phone to call my representatives. It looks like donating some of the money I make on substack to local organizations that advocate for immigrants. It looks like having in-person conversations about intense issues and sticking it out until common ground is reached. It looks like tapping ‘publish’ on words that tell you how I’ve changed in the hopes that maybe someone out there will realize it's ok for them to change too. It’s inviting people to have a Niemöller moment.4

Bees understand that the cornerstone of a healthy environment is ecological diversity. Mono-culture in nature is not only unsustainable, it’s downright dangerous for the world we live in. It might mean one specific kind of plant or crop can thrive, yes, but at what cost?

I don’t have answers, but I refuse to stay silent. And so I’ll keep stumbling forward. Much like bees at the onset of spring, we have a lot of work to do.