The Revolution Will Be Tender: Why Gathering Matters in Hard Times

It's easy to feel scattered right now, like leaves torn from the tree too soon, spun and spit out by forces larger than us. The news screams. The algorithms pulse. The ground seems to shift daily. And in the middle of it all, we're told, explicitly or not, to distrust our neighbors, to retreat into ourselves, to stop asking questions, and just… cope.

But here's the truth no regime wants us to remember: connection is resistance. Trust is rebellion. And joy, especially joy we create together, threatens any system that thrives on fear.

One of fascism's quiet tactics is isolation—not just physically, though we've seen that, too, but emotional and spiritual isolation. It divides people by belief, background, and algorithm. It keeps them overwhelmed and disconnected long enough that they forget they were ever part of something larger.

So what do we do in the face of that?

We gather.

We fill our living rooms with mismatched chairs and mismatched people. We cook. We pour wine or tea or seltzer over ice. We laugh too loudly. We cry a little, too. We swap stories. We trade resources. We remind each other what it means to be alive....not just surviving but living. Because community isn't just comfort. It's armor.

How to Stay Grounded When Everything Feels Upside Down

This chapter in the American story feels heavy because it is, but that doesn't mean we have to carry it alone. Here are a few small ways to reclaim your agency and stay rooted:

1. Host a regular gathering.

 It doesn't have to be fancy. A weekly potluck. A book swap. A craft night. A "let's just sit together and decompress" circle. Make it consistent. Let people know they're not alone, not weird for caring, and not powerless.

2. Unplug and really check in.

 Algorithms profit off our outrage. Take a break from scrolling. Call someone. Ask how they're really doing. Listen. Reconnect without a screen between you.

3. Support local efforts.

 Mutual aid groups, free pantries, bail funds, voter education teams—your time, skills, or dollars can help sustain the people already doing the work.

4. Laugh. Loudly. Often.

 This isn't trivial—it's vital. Fascism hates laughter. It cannot endure in the presence of people who still find joy, even in difficult times.

5. Learn together.

 Host a mini teach-in. Share an article that moved you. Unpack big ideas in small rooms with people you trust. Critical thinking is a form of self-defense.

6. Don't let shame win.

 Maybe you tuned out for a while. Maybe you're just now waking up to what's happening. That's okay. Shame keeps people stuck. This is your invitation to rejoin the story.

We're living through a storm, yes. But storms are also how landscapes change. And in every storm, there's shelter in each other.

So let's keep setting the table. Let's keep the porch light on. Let's keep choosing to be soft with one another, even when the world is hard.

Let the simple act of coming together remind you: we’re not powerless, and we’re definitely not alone.

Start small, stay human, and let joy be your rebellion.