Small Rebellions

Accessible Acts of Resistance

The common cry of our moment seems to be: “What should we do? What can I do?” When we are tethered to a government that is wildly lurching towards authoritarianism, an economy in a techno-capitalist choke hold, and a society with systemic injustice embedded in its DNA, the answers to the problem of “what to do” seem insurmountable. Especially when you are a person of average power, financial means, and limited attention facing a multi-front assault on our freedoms, justice system, and institutions that support the public good on a national (and international) scale.

Photo by David McBee

Yet one of the biggest dangers in a moment like we are living in right now is paralysis—and its close cousin, despair. Many of us want to be part of “the resistance” to fight the theft of our resources, our well-being, and our sense of safety. But both the scope of the problems and the speed to which more are added are overwhelming, by design. Confronted by such heinous corruption and vile solipsism, many people are looking for someone to tell them what to do.

But here’s the thing: waiting for instructions is missing a chance to reclaim your own agency. While protests, boycotts, voting, calling your representatives, and other large-scale collective actions are both important and effective, it is the small acts of every day rebellion that hold the line between those moments of grand demonstration.

I also believe it’s not enough to just “resist;” that is, to stand against something. You must also start doing something else, that is to take action for something. “Resistance” is insufficient on its own because it’s defined by its negative. Resistance is something else’s opposite. And when that “something else” is more progressively horrifying headlines unlocking fears we had not yet thought to have, resistance is an ever-growing, mutating, moving target.

I think what we are hungry for is self-determination and the confidence of our convictions. We want to define our own terms instead of reacting to someone else’s. Small, consistent acts moves us positively toward the world and community we want to live in and serves as an example.

Small Can Be Radical

First, define what you are resisting and why. This clarity will help bring the question of what to do down to a more human scale. Pick one or two issues that are most important to you and focus your energy and attention on those. Think about why those issues are most important to you and how it connects to your values.

One way to do this is to ask yourself “why” three or four times. For example, I am passionate about protecting libraries. Why? Because libraries provide tremendous public good. Why does that matter? Because all people should have access to reliable information, intellectual freedom, and community services regardless of income. Why does that matter? Because a thoughtful and connected community is a resilient and healthy community. Why does that matter? Because I cannot separate the health of my community with the health of myself, my family, my friends, and the environment I live in.

I suggest that you pick an issue or two to focus on because it is much easier to sustain action over time when it is aligned with your highest ideals. It also gives you the opportunity to go deep and intimately understand both the root causes and the far-reaching ramifications of the causes you champion.

Instead of only following the national narrative, think about how you can uphold and support the values behind those issues within your local community. For example, I mentioned I am active with the library in my community. These actions are not grand in scale, but it’s how I remain accountable to my values. That, in it’s own small way, is indeed radical.

Accessible Acts of Resistance

Walk

Something as simple as walking can be a subversive act. Most of us live in an environment designed for cars and not for people. Walking does not rely on fossil fuels. It doesn’t require money. It doesn’t need a license, a registration, an inspection sticker, or excise tax. It’s a form of exercise almost anyone can do and it doesn’t require money or a membership. It doesn’t subject you to the many (often arbitrary) reasons police use to justify traffic stops.1 It doesn’t expose you to nuisance citations that are less about public safety and more about community control and revenue generation.

Walking also places you in a more permeable state, even if that state includes earbuds. When you’re on the inside of a car, you’re in a private space, your own personal chamber. Where I’m from, it's not unusual (in fact, it’s encouraged!) that drivers will flip each other the bird for impolite or otherwise stupid behavior. But doing that on foot, mere inches away from your antagonist? Bravado fades fast when consequences are face-to-face.

Lastly, walking is inherently human-scaled. You notice details you could never see from your car using your peripheral vision. It reveals your environment to be less of an interstitial between here and there and more of an actual place.

Create

In a way, creativity is the ultimate subversion, which is why it is a major focus of my writing. In a world where your primary identity is that of consumer (of goods, of “content”) the act of creation is also a declaration of independence.

It requires you to resist the easiest path because that path is often a “frictionless” one that seeks to separate you from your money and put it into the pocket of (often) yet another billionaire as quickly as possible.

Being creative means finding solutions to problems, and often, using what you already have on hand. This could take the shape of making a meal from your pantry instead of ordering take out. Mending a rip in your jeans instead of buying a new pair. Asking friends over to your house for a simple dinner instead of queuing up at the newest, fashionable bar.2

Too often creativity is defined by expertise or genre (like painting or poetry) or only for those who can afford expensive hobbies with lots of specialized gear. But I believe creativity is most accessible as a quotidian practice. We are all creative if we try.

Creating is important because it allows us to conceive of and bring into being alternative possibilities. This exercise of the imagination is just as important as the physical result of that creativity. A creative practice allows you to make the leap from “why?” to “why not?” with increased fluidity and confidence.

Utilize Public Spaces

One of the reasons I mentioned libraries is because they are one of the most important pieces of our public infrastructure. When I attend a book club or an event, I’m surrounded by my community and often there are people I’ve never met before. The library is one of the last intergenerational spaces we have.

Even though our country has divested from public services and infrastructure during the last 40 years (and has dramatically accelerated this pace in the last few months), there are still public spaces left. When so many of our current problems have origins in time spent in front of screen, disengaged from our surroundings and our neighbors, visibility in place is especially important. For example:

-If public transit is available to you, take it. In addition to supporting public infrastructure, you are also subverting privatized transportation and car-first culture.

-Visit your public parks and recreation areas. So many of us never explore that natural places that are right in our own backyards.

-Relax on your town’s common or green. Read a book in the sunshine.

-Attend Town or City Council meetings. Learn what decisions are on the docket and who is making them.

What Matters

Accessible acts of resistance offer a way through the shock and fear so many of us are feeling. By bringing big, overwhelming issues down to a human scale, they make positive action tangible—something you can do today, right where you are.

These everyday actions ripple outward, setting an example for other people and communities, building shared momentum, and helping us practice the habits of public participation and civic engagement. Over time, these practices can turn passive frustration into active muscle memory, connecting national movements to local realities in ways that you and your immediate community can experience for themselves.