What's on my mind this first week of the second Trump presidency
- Kylie B.
- Jan 25
- 6 min read

Why is there a firehose of feces in my face?
It has been one hell of a week for season 2 of the Trump Administration. With a frenetic flurry of executive orders, a sizeable list of harmful legislation introduced in Congress, 1,500+ domestic terrorists being pardoned for their crimes on January 6th, 404 errors on key government websites (oh, my!), it's felt as though a firehose of feces has been aimed in our faces (hasn't it, though?). The goal of this has been to cause chaos and confusion, instill fear and panic, and make us feel generally bereft and hopeless. There are a few things I want to say to you about that:
It is completely normal to feel what you're feeling. I certainly have been struggling this week watching each story break with some new, horrible, oppressive, action that this administration has taken or indicated it would be pursuing. I hope we can acknowledge what we're feeling but also KNOW that we are neither wrong nor alone in feeling the way we do.
Tricia Hersey tells us that, "rest is an act of resistance," and I very much agree with that. My mom always says how important it is for us to put our own oxygen masks on before we can help others put theirs on, and that's such an important thing for us to remember. It is imperative that, as part of acknowledging our feelings, we also honor the needs of our bodies, minds, and souls. When things feel too big or heavy, it's okay--no, it's actually NECESSARY--for us to take a step back from things and rest and prioritize self-care.
Finally, when we're ready to tap back in for the fight, let us do so with hope and strategy. In "Let This Radicalize You" by Kelly Hayes & Mariame Kaba, there's a passage that I've reread a few times this week, which says:
"This practice of hope allows us to remain creative and strategic. It does not require us to deny the severity of our situation or detract from our practice of grief. To practice active hope, we do not need to believe that everything will work out in the end. We need only decide who we are choosing to be and how we are choosing to function in relation to the outcome we desire and abide by what those decisions demand of it. This practice of hope does not guarantee any victories against long odds, but it does make those victories more possible. Hope, therefore, is not only a source of comfort to the afflicted but also a strategic imperative (pp. 176-177)."
I'm feeling angry, and devastated, and frustrated, and helpless, and powerless, and scared for me and the people I love and care about.
But, I'm also actively searching for hope, and joy, and determination, and community, and thinking deeply about what a just, equitable, safe, and caring world could look like. I invite you to join me in doing the same.
What actions can be taken?
Seek out and connect with your communities. Check your local community centers and non-profit organizations to see what events they have and how you can connect with folks.
Do something that brings you joy and/or relaxation. Read a romantasy novel, or play a video game, or get a massage, or go to the beach, or do something creative like write or paint. Fill your cup to the brim.
If you have the capacity, consider finding a non-profit to volunteer your time with. You can search for volunteer opportunities using websites like VolunteerMatch.org, but you can also check your local government websites to see what other volunteer opportunities there are out there. If there's a specific organization you want to volunteer with but you don't see any volunteer opportunities posted, reach out to them directly and inquire! Many organizations are at or beyond their capacity and may not have the time to post volunteer opportunities.
Contact your elected officials. Some sample email/letter templates are below (and can be used as a phone script).
What do I even say to my elected officials right now?
I have written two very different letters today:
For the first letter, to my Senators
There are a lot of issues I care deeply about, and there have been so many things popping up this week that it has felt like an insurmountable task to even just wrap my head around the issues, never mind actually drafting a letter about each one. But, I've decided to write my elected senators about what general issues I care about the most at the moment, express my concerns, urge them to prioritize addressing those issues in the years to come, and give them encouragement/hope for the fight ahead. Before sending a letter like this, be sure you've reviewed the policy platforms of your elected senators (we don't want to be encouraging senators to do work that seeks to advance the things we're against).
Here's where you can look up who your senators are and how to contact them:
Here's my letter template:
Dear Senator [Insert Your Senator's Name],
My name is <Insert Your Name> and I live in <Insert Your City, State>. I am writing to you as a constituent deeply concerned about the future of our nation. I believe that a just and equitable society is one where every individual, regardless of their background, can thrive and live with dignity. I know you share my beliefs, and so I wanted to first say THANK YOU for the work you’ve done up to this point to uphold these important fundamental beliefs. I know there’s a ton of work ahead of us as a nation, but I hope you can take a moment to reflect on your work thus far and know your efforts are deeply appreciated and seen.
Even though we share many of these beliefs, I wanted to briefly reiterate what I care about and what I hope you, as my elected senator, will also care about. Specifically:
What I'm for/want you to continue fighting for:
Immigrant/immigration rights, safety, and dignity
Transgender rights, safety, and dignity
LGBTQ+ rights, safety, and dignity
Pro-choice, reproductive health, and bodily autonomy for ALL
Freedom of speech, press, and assembly
Affordable and accessible healthcare for all
Affordable and accessible cost-of-living for all
Addressing climate change and environmental justice
Rights, safety, and social and restorative justice for Black, Indigenous, and other People of Color
What I'm against/want you to continue fighting against:
Government corruption, being held hostage by an oligarchy of billionaires, and moves towards dictatorship (like third or more Presidential terms)
Censorship, book bans, and state media
Police violence, unjust laws (and enforcement of those laws) that disproportionately impact marginalized communities, and forced slavery/uncompensated prison labor
Police states and deploying military against civilians, especially during peaceful protests
Policies and practices attacking/further disenfranchising unhoused folks
War and genocide
Cabinet nominees who could undermine or threaten national security or create harm/violence for marginalized communities
I’ll be following these important issues closely and I’m rooting for you and your staff and colleagues who will fight for the world we deserve.
Yours in resistance,
<Insert Your Name>
For the other letter, "Dear Mr. President"
The one other letter I'm sending today will be addressed to President Trump. He will almost certainly not read it, but I want him/his administration to know that he is old and will die soon but the marginalized communities he's been attacking for years will not. I have hope, and I can see the world where there's joy and love and justice, and I know that we will see this world some day despite his and his administration's efforts.
I'm printing this letter and sending it via USPS instead of submitting on the White House's official contact form.
The address I'm mailing this letter to is:
President Donald Trump
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW
Washington, DC 20500
Here's my letter template:
President Trump,
I hope this message finds you unwell. I’m writing to you as a citizen of the United States who happens to also be queer, Indigenous, and a woman of color. As you take office and have begun rolling out your policy agenda and doling out your executive orders and pardons, I want to remind you of a few important things:
The average life expectancy of a man is 74.8 years old. As of today, you are 78 years old, which means you’re in your final chapter of life.
There is no heaven, in any religion, that will open its doors to you given your lifetime of vileness and cruelty.
Some day, long after you’re gone, the only thing people will remember about you is how fragile your ego was, how orange you were, and how awful you were. Nothing more.
Additionally:
Every marginalized community you and your administration have targeted will live on long after you’re dead.
As someone who’s part of multiple marginalized communities, I want you to know that we will be joyous and laugh and love, no matter what you or your administration tries to do to disenfranchise or harm us.
We will not go quietly into the night. For every harmful policy or practice you/your administration attempts to push through, WE WILL DISOBEY.
You’re intent on causing harm to me and people that I care about. Your policies will likely get many of us killed. But I want you to know that you will never succeed in eradicating us. We are strong, resilient, and we WILL see a world that is just and safe and inclusive. In spite of all of your best efforts, we will live.
Sincerely,
KB
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