Tag Archives: democracy

Guiding Lights, Part IV: Marc Elias, Spotlight for Democracy…Or Bat-Signal

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In the Department of Guiding Lights, there’s the North Star (see my piece on Heather Cox Richardson); the twinkly path-markers known as The Contrarian, and several more which offer both inspiration and guidance to folks like us. (Watch this space!)

But sometimes—these times!—you just need a freakin’ spotlight. Meet Marc Elias and Democracy Docket.

Marc Elias in 2024 (photo courtesy Wikimedia Commons)

According to Ken Vogel  of The New York Times, “Elias has arguably done more than any single person outside government to shape the Democratic Party and the rules under which all campaigns and elections in the United States are conducted.” (October 30, 2024, as quoted by Wikipedia.org)

Marc’s political bio is far too voluminous for me to sum up here; please check out Wikipedia or Democracy Docket itself for all the details of presidents and almost-presidents he’s worked for, trials he’s worked on, resistance fighters he’s supported.

What matters to me now, and what I hope (assume? since you’re reading this) matters to you is: his law firm has taken the Trump administration (regime) to court dozens of times…and of the cases already decided, Elias Law Group is 23 and 0.

That’s 23 wins for Elias’ democracy warriors; 23 LOSSES for Trump.

Here’s Marc, describing one of those victories:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YCBc3dIEYxA

A fighter who springs to action when democracy is threatened, like if Batman wore a suit & tie? That’s who I want on my side, heading into the scariest electoral period in our country’s history since 1860.

Marc? That you? (image courtesy Wikimedia)

I’m not a lawyer; don’t want to be. But I DO want to fight to keep the Trump regime’s mitts off my election data. I do want to keep their ICE thugs from intimidating my neighbors at the polls. I want the rule of law back.

That’s why I support Democracy Docket with a small subscription. I hope you’ll consider doing the same. Marc & Co left behind their lucrative former law careers to fight for us. The least we can do is be Robin to their Batman.

Guiding Lights, Part III: Why You Might Be a Contrarian Too

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The past couple of posts, I’ve referred to people I read or listen to as navigational aids, or sources of power to charge myself from. Enough with the mixed metaphors! Let’s go with “guiding lights” for these choppy American waters.

The Contrarian is a biggie. Do you know these folks?

Norm Eisen (formerly Obama’s Ethics Czar, lead counsel on the first Trump impeachment trial…etc) [courtesy Wikimedia]

In January 2025, Norm Eisen–CNN analyst, former ambassador to the Czech Republic, the list of roles goes on & on, click here for more–joined forces with a Washington Post journalist, Jennifer Rubin, who had quit the WaPo following its Trumpian purge by owner Jeff Bezos. Together, Norm and Jen created The Contrarian, on Substack. Meet Jen:

[courtesy Wikimedia]

Since I’ve never been a WaPo reader, I didn’t know that Jen Rubin had started life as a conservative Republican. By the time I started listening to her, following Trump’s second inauguration, she sounded just like me: alarmed, pissed off, and raring to fight fascism. Does that sound like you too? You’ll love Jen. With a journalist’s razor-sharp vision, she not only distills what’s at stake, she lets readers know how to help fight for our democracy.

The Contrarian boasts other frequent contributors, like Joyce Vance, whose Civil Discourse Substack I’ve written about before (and will again). But the other regular “talking head” these days is April Ryan, MSNOW contributor and longtime member of the White House Press Corps. Compared to the rather staid, pearl-wearing Jen Rubin April’s a trip:

[courtesy Wikimedia]

Together, these folks keep me updated and full of juice to stay involved. They bring humor and joy (“Contrarian Pet of the Week”); they bring hope –especially “Norm & Katie’s Legal Fight Club” with former prosecutor and current independent journalist Katie Phang. They even offer merch!

Available now at Contrariannews.com!

BEST OF ALL (notice I saved this for last): all paid subscriptions to The Contrarian (you CAN read & listen for free…but should you??) go to fund Lawyer Norm as he takes on the Trump Regime in case after case after case (all Ws so far, by the way). It brings me special pride to know that I am helping the fight in such a LITERAL way.

Join me?

In the Chop: Choose Your Own Navigational Markers

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My—and let’s face it, probably everyone’s—favorite public-engaging historian, Heather Cox Richardson, talks a good deal about “chop.” Living in coastal Maine, she sees it all the time (and her husband, a lobsterman, has to drive his boat through it). She means this:

Chop

Chop. Swirl. Eddies. Currents. Unexpected wavelets, even waves, hitting from all sides, throwing you off balance, interfering with forward movement. Obscuring forward movement. Where am I headed, anyway? Where’s this interference coming from? Should I drift for a moment or power through? What new challenges will either choice unleash? Which way should I steer?

I am neither historian nor lobsterwoman. But—in case you’ve wondered whether Wing’s World has fallen off the face of the earth—I’ve been living this metaphor for the last several months. Chop, for me, has set blogging wayyyyy back as a priority. Only now am I coming to realize I might need this blog as a navigational marker to sail on through this stuff.

I have always considered myself the person least touched by adversity of any I’ve met. I even wrote a song about it, from the perspective of someone who got all the bad shit I’ve avoided: “Who got my sunshine, who got my ease?/Does she realize her fortune? Will you tell her, please?” The song ends, “Hope she’ll be ready when her skies turn black.”

This year, my skies finally darkened.

In December, my high school bestie died, with no chance to say goodbye. A week later, a close local friend died. In February, the Mate’s health circumstances took a hard turn. And in early June, my amazing father, Peter Klopfer, died.

Add to that the national shitstorm we’re all living through, and…

[photo courtesy Wikimedia Commons]

Another favorite topic of HCR (Heather Cox Richardson) is navigational markers. In my personal chop, I have decided to focus on these few to guide me:

  • Interdependence on and with family, friends and the Mate, more intentionally than ever in my life
  • Using historians, legal minds, politicians and activists to keep myself inspired and motivated
  • Using my own resources of time, money and WORDS to amplify that inspiration and motivation

I won’t blog about the first marker. But the other two? Watch this space.

Keep…going…

Democracy Is Not a Spectator Sport: More Than a T-shirt Slogan

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(Though it is a really good T-shirt slogan.)

Really good shirt, too–thanks, Etsy!)

This was my birthday present to myself, fresh from my Virginia-canvassing-and-family trip, and amped up–only a week later–by democracy’s powerful showing in the November 4 elections.

Notice I didn’t say Democrats (though they did well, and I’m glad). Nine months in to this presidency, people on all sides of politics–including no politics at all!–are starting to coalesce around the basic idea that things should work. And democracy, as Churchill famously said in 1947, is “the worst form of Government…except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.…” [ellipses added for emphasis]

In other words, for things to work (fairness, food, airplanes–that sorta thing), we need democracy. And when you look at election results more focused on immediate outcome than on party, here are some promising signs:

  • Maine anti-mail voting measure loses
  • Progressive DAs in Philly and NYC win
  • Colorado funds free school meals and SNAP support with taxes on the rich
  • Detroit elects first woman mayor
  • Cincinnati rejects JD Vance’s brother after endorsement
  • GOP Redistricting in Kansas failed
  • Charlotte approves transit tax
  • Maine passes gun control
  • Turnout in blue district US House election in Texas higher than 2024 Pres (thanks to Common Power for this compilation)

See what I mean? I have a lot of company in thinking, the IDEA of democracy is having a moment right now. And for democracy to work, we need all hands on deck.

“Wait a minute,” I can hear you saying. “I loathe phone-banking, and I’m donating all I can to things like food banks and my church. And now you want me to do take on ‘democracy’ too? I am SO not that person.”

Au contraire. I maintain that if you are looking out for vulnerable people; if you are protecting green spaces or animals; if you are reading to kids, or making art to share, or donating to organizations that multiply those values, you ARE a democracy standard-bearer.

I mean–don’t forget (or underestimate!) voting! Do all you can to keep your loved ones from feeling that voting’s not worth it. Point them to this book if they need a little inspiration…

I’m giving this book to everyone who’ll take it!

On my walk today I stopped to make a roadside bouquet. November in Washington State = pretty limited wildflowers. But the low-rent, multicolor assemblage I collected reminded me, there’s so many ways to be a flower!

You can be bright, demure, prickly, robust, delicate, complex or simple–and you can still call it democracy. Just do SOMETHING, keep doing it, and keep talking about it.

As Joyce Vance says, we’re in this together. And as Gretchen Wing says, “For things to work, we need democracy.”

What are some of your ways of participating? Anything new, anything especially challenging or rewarding, or both? Please share as many as you feel like.

Heavy Lifting: What Mushrooms Have to Teach Us About Democracy

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For the past couple of weeks on this beautiful island where I get to live, I’ve been enjoying the appearance of some rambunctious fellow inhabitants.

Foot included for scale. If this is a Fairy Ring, those must be some hefty fairies!

I would call them visitors, but it’s obvious that these Short-Stemmed Rusula have been here all along…at least in spore form. Underground. Waiting…for some signal inaudible to the rest of us, which must have been given—suddenly, urgently—about three weeks ago.

Come on up, the air’s fine!

I’ve been walking these trails for fourteen years now. Mushroom seasons come and go, but I’ve never seen anything like these: so many, so huge, so close together.

Hahaha, the forest is ours!!

These shroomy monsters come bursting through the crust of the soil full-sized—no cute babies that you get to watch grow or unfurl. And in their thrust, anything on top simply gets lifted: soil, rocks, even good-sized tree trunks.

Like this.

Which, of course, sets my brain along its favorite metaphorical paths.

Next week, I am heading to my home state of North Carolina to join a host of volunteer canvassers already spread out around the country. They—we—knock on doors, talk to folks, try to energize them to vote and help them over any voting obstacles they might face. Sure, we’d prefer them to vote like us, but the real goal is democratic participation, which is…

…not such a heavy a lift!

The organization that I canvass with is Common Power, founded in 2018, headquartered in Seattle. I’ve blogged about it before; click here to read more about CP, especially if you’re interested in volunteering yourself.

But my point here is how much CP is suddenly needing to act like the mycelia beneath those mammoth mushrooms: it’s calling for heavy lifting.

You mean like this? Oof.

See, before, when I canvassed in 2022, we knocked on “friendly” doors: registered Democrats. People whose only beef with us, if they had any, would be that they’re tired of being nagged, or maybe we woke up the baby when we knocked.

But these days, given the potential suddenly presented by the 1-2 combo of 1) Trump-fatigue (or outright revulsion) among traditional Republicans (especially women) and 2) the big-tent welcome of the Harris-Walz ticket (hey, they own guns!)…these days, I say, CP is being asked by its on-the-ground state partners to knock on doors of registered Republicans. Even homes with Maga flags out front.

Which means my time in NC might be more challenging than I was expecting. (See previous photo)

The other day I attended a training for folks like me, headed into the field. A handful of volunteers fresh from the white suburbs of Philadelphia and some even-whiter counties in Montana had this to say:

“This is about talking to people. We’re all Americans. We have to start there.”

“Every conversation an invitation.”

“After you knock—listen more than you talk.”

“Folks are looking for any excuse to vote for a person whose character they respect.”

They cited example after example of folks who might have appeared “hostile,” based on their yard signs or their vehicles, actually opening up and talking.* Maybe not agreeing to vote for Harris/Walz, but finding common ground on a certain issue with a down-ballot candidate.

*[Sometimes, if a woman answered the door, these volunteers said, she might murmur, “Come back when my husband’s not here.”]

I thought: wow.

That’s a lift I can handle!

I also thought, Not only is this good canvassing advice, this is good human being advice. This is the kind of human I want to be–able to knock on any door and hold a conversation with almost anyone. (Note the “almost”: folks who are outright hateful to your face? Nope. See ya.)

I don’t know where those mushrooms get their power. But I do know that when I head on out there next week, I’ll be using those volunteers’ advice as my own heavy-lifting mojo. Every conversation an invitation.

Let’s see where that takes us, shall we?

Be the Challenger: How Muhammad Ali and NASA Reeled Me Back In

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I’m not going to spend time talking about why I’ve stepped away from this blog for the past year. I’d rather talk about what brought me back.

Since Sandy Hook, since Trayvon, since Charlottesville, since [fill in your own moment of “whatthefuckishappeningtous”], I’ve been looking for people and ideas and groups which provide myself with hope and purpose. Along with my family; some dear friends; some small-but-mighty organizations within my community; music; nature, and writing, I found Common Power, and its educational branch, The Institute for Common Power, both of which I have written about.

For the last three years, I’ve gone deeper into action to protect and extend democracy, mostly through phone-banking and donations, but also writing letters to elected officials, and, last October, canvassing in my home state, North Carolina.

This is VA, not NC, but you get the idea–this kind of thing (photo by Charles Douglas, CP)

But canvassing requires travel, and phone-banking (besides being NO FUN) feels pretty limited. I was looking for other ways to plug in, when I tuned into Common Power’s 24-hour Teach-in for Truth in Education in Florida, and heard Dr. Yohuru Williams.

Dr. Williams is a History professor at the University of St. Thomas in St. Paul, MN, and founder of their Racial Justice Initiative. It was his part of that 24 hours of teaching that got me back to Wing’s World. He talked about two “challengers,” starting with NASA’s Challenger Space Shuttle, which exploded live on TV in 1986 (which many of us remember all too well).

R.I.P. (photo courtesy Wikipedia)

Dr. Williams reminded us how Ronald Reagan went on TV to tell American children the tragedy:

“We don’t hide our space program. We don’t keep secrets and cover things up. We do it all up front and in public. That’s the way democracy is, and we wouldn’t change it for a minute.”

His message: Ron DeSantis, anti-“woke” Republicans–are you LISTENING? Democracy means FACING UP TO BAD STUFF. Like, you know…U.S. History.

Dr. Williams closed by talking about Muhammad Ali, of whom actor/director Ed Begley Jr. said, “Ali’s secret was that he was always the challenger.”

Ali in 1976, filming The Greatest (courtesy Wikimedia Commons)

And this historian/activist then looked at the camera and asked us listeners to find ways to continue to be the challenger. To do more than what we’ve been doing to help our country be its best self.

And I thought: okay. At the very least, something I can do is to expand Dr. Williams’ message.

So in the next few weeks, I’ll be highlighting some of the talks from that incredible 24 hours. I’ll be sharing, amplifying, extolling the messages I’m absorbing about how to help our country. And if just a few of you reading this decide to do the same, consider yourselves challengers too.

If Hope Is A Muscle, Purpose Is Its Workout: Introducing Common Power

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When it comes to the state of the world, be it locally, nationally or globally, everyone I know–and probably most I don’t–has felt like this a good deal of the past five and a half years:

I…give…up.

Most folks I know–and even more I don’t–have also found sources of inspiration to get themselves up off the floor and stay positive, or at least productive. Staying within my immediate circle of control is my go-to: cooking a meal for someone; spending time with an elder or a child; sometimes just contributing money.

But for me, real hope takes larger-scale action, and I would like to share my personal “hope-workout” of the last few years: Common Power.

Originally named Common Purpose and founded by UW Communications professor David Domke, “CP”s goal is “to foster, support and amplify a democracy that is just and inclusive.”

Even better, in my book, is the way CP goes about their work. I was first introduced to their three-part mindset when I attended a standing-room-only (obviously pre-pandemic) meeting in Seattle back in…2018, I think. This image speaks for itself:

Since joining, most of my “work” has been calling elected officials or phone-banking in “red” or “purple” states, which, no, I do not love. (Who does?) But most of that calling hasn’t been about trying to convince people to vote a certain way. It’s simply been working with in-state, non-partisan organizations (like NC’s You Can Vote) to give folks information they need to register, or to get their ballot accepted, or find their polling place. Do we target traditionally sidelined or disadvantaged voters? Of course. That’s the point. And as a result, those folks we do reach are, often as not, more grateful than grouchy.

My recent tally sheets from NC calls. GOTV = Get Out The Vote

Besides providing me with an escape ladder from the Pits of Helplessness, CP has also become a source of inspiration, learning, and even joy.

Close to home, when I can, I attend AJ Musewe’s Lunch and Learn series midweek, where the delightful AJ explores themes like the history of redlining, or little-known democracy pioneers. (When I can’t attend live, I listen to them recorded.)

the delightful & wise AJ Musewe (photo by CP)

The monthly meetings (fully accessible now–no more trips to Seattle!) begin with music and good news, and always leave me pumped up about the next event, like…the inauguration of the newly-expanded Institute for Common Power, coming up June 4! That one’s in-person, so I don’t know if I can go, but maybe you can go, and personally mingle with some civil rights heroes, compatriots of the late Rep. John Lewis, who survived the campaigns of the 1960s.

Dr. Terry Scott will be the new Director of the Institute for Common Power in Seattle (photo by CP)

CP enthusiasts are also encouraged to join state “Teams” to focus their energy on one of seven states where democracy is both imperiled but also salvageable. Of course I chose Team North Carolina. And while I’ve limited my participation to online and phone work so far, I intend to travel next fall with Team NC to my home state to do the most effective GOTV work of all: knocking on doors, connecting with people. I CAN’T WAIT.

I’m coming, NC!

Best of all, for my teacherly soul, CP’s emphasis on next-generation leadership means that my NC fieldwork will be directed by leaders younger than my own kids. They’ve all been through CP’s Action Academy–a completely rad organization in itself; maybe you’d like to contribute, or recommend a youth to attend?–and I also CANNOT WAIT TO WORK WITH THEM.

Can you hear that hope-muscle working? Does your own hope need a workout? I invite you to check out Common Power.

VoteVoteVote. Got it got it got it. But THEN…

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Warning: if you’ve had a tough time living in Trumpmerica, this image might make you feel like bursting into tears.

Hope & Change, baby.

Yep–that was me twelve years ago, casting my vote for Joe Biden…as VP to Barack Obama’s President.

I’ll give you a moment. Might need to take one myself.

Fast forward to now, 2020. Two weeks or so before the election. My ballot and the Mate’s are already sealed and ready for dropping off. (We Washingtonians have been handling this vote-by-mail thing for over a decade now!)

Notice I didn’t bother taking a picture of the inside this time.

It’s obvious to me that, compared to 2008, I’m not nearly as excited about the candidates I’m helping to elect. This election feels more like grabbing the emergency brake before the country goes hurtling off a cliff. But I think that might actually be a good thing.

Because…what if my political dreams come true? What if everyone I vote for wins? What if the party I prefer takes over the White House and both houses of Congress? We still have so much on our plate. Poverty. Systemic Racism. Private prisons. A toxic political system, which has created a toxic social divide, and vice-versa.

So this post is just to remind myself: yes, I DID write HUNDREDS of letters to voters in battleground states, over the course of the last few months. Yes, I DID encourage many friends to do the same. Yes, I WILL celebrate on election day if the issues and candidates I voted for actually win.

Dear _______, let me tell you why I vote in every election!

But no, I will not do what I did in 2008 and 2012: celebrate and then relax. Because need never sleeps, and the next fight is always around the corner.

Lesson learned, 2016–thanks very much. And 2020? Let’s hope you’re just the first tiny step away from that cliff.

Bank on This: Phone-Banking Isn’t Everything It’s Cracked Up To Be. It’s Better.

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You know those things you swear you’ll never do because you’re bad at them and you think they’re annoying and don’t make any difference and oh, by the way, you hate doing them?

Could I be talking about anything but political phone-banking? And have I been doing it anyway? And am I going to quit with the stupid rhetorical questions? Yes, yes, and yes.

The whole enterprise started with my furlough. I had some extra time on my hands, which I mainly filled with some physical volunteer work: packing school meals to be delivered to children, and groceries to be delivered to families. That felt meaningful.

But then both those programs ended (because hey, everyone knows kids don’t need to eat in the summer, especially when their parents might also be furloughed or unemployed!). [Note: this is NOT a slam on my community, which is doing everything in its power to help everyone.It’s about funding from upstream.]

Anyway, there I am in early June with the world on fire with injustice and COVID, and my deep-seated urges to pitch in have nowhere else to turn but…the phone. Calling voters in states without mail-in ballot programs to try to help voters get mail-in ballots, and gosh, by the way, wanna help elect Mr/Ms/Dr ____ to the ______?

On my first go, in Wisconsin, I swore I was done with this.

Woo-hoo.

Me, phone-banking: This is such a waste of time.

Myself: Nuh-uh, all the political people say it’s been proven that phone calls make more difference than any form of voter contact!

Me: But I even hate getting these kind of calls!

Myself: Well, you won’t from now on, will you? Maybe this is your punishment for not being nicer to the last person who called you.

Me: Not true. I’m always nice. But you may have a point there: this job feels like penance. Can I just go ahead and like, bank it against future sins?

But then the nice campaign people in Wisconsin let me know how badly they needed my help, so next day, there I was again. I don’t know how many calls I made because I hadn’t thought to keep count. But then I took some phone-bank training and discovered the joy of tally marks.

So NOW when I’m calling, I’m really competing with myself. Last week I made 100 calls in 2 hours. How ’bout 110 this week? Do I hear 120?

And along the way, even though there are SO many things I’d rather be doing on a lovely summer afternoon, like

noticing wildflowers…

or

…noticing wildlife…

I’m learning other ways to “enjoy” my political “work.” Like:

Fun with numbers! “Hey, this guy’s number’s almost the same as my Social Security.” “Whoa, a triple 6–wish I had a cool Satanic phone number like that.”

Enjoying the different recordings people leave on their voicemail, like this one man: “Hello, this is Mister Wonderful.” Or this adorable couple: “You’ve reached Grandpa and Grandma Willis.”

[Note: these generally make up for those irritating ones where the person’s clearly trying to fool the caller into thinking they’ve reached a real person instead of a recording. You guys suck.]

Grooving on cool names. I like to do this: “Hi, I’m Gretchen with the ____ Campaign, and I’ve been calling folks all afternoon and you’ve just won the Coolest Name of the Day award.”

Playing the Find my Age game: I’m 58. Nothing so special about 58, right? Except that only about .000008 of the folks I’ve called seem to BE 58, and only half of those are women. So when I get a 58 year-old female on my list (all we get are name, age & gender, and sometimes not even gender), I let them know how excited I am to talk to them! [If they pick up, that is. Which they do only about 10% of the time. So I’ve really only bonded with two other 58 year-old women so far. Sisterhood is beautiful.]

So much darn fun, I can almost forget I’d rather be kayaking.

For those of us who enjoy Life Lessons, there’s the Note Your Prejudices game: see what mental image pops into your head when you see someone’s name, age & gender pop up, then–quick, before they answer the phone!–re-arrange that prejudice into something completely different. Then find out how right or wrong you were when they answer! (If they answer. 🙁 ) And briefly ponder the internal biases that caused your initial guess, quick–before you dial the next number.

Then, of course, there’s always good ol’ Gazing Out the Window…trying not to think about hiking into the sunset

Not till you’ve finished your tally marks.

or making pie.

I think I’ve earned pie.

But really? It’s all about the tally marks. And yes, just in case you were wondering: I DID make 120 calls this afternoon, thanks!

Which means I need to shoot for 125 next time. 

Total # of calls (since I started keeping track, so it’s really about 100 more): 650. And when I get to 1,000, I WILL make a pie.

Anyone else engaged in some political work right now which requires a struggle to feel meaningful? How do you keep your positive energy up?

 

Americans of Conscience Checklist: For Those Of Us Who Can’t Keep Up

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I admit it. I hate calling my Congressperson. I actually have to ASSIGN myself a time to call, or a number of calls to make, depending on the issue. But after calling, I always feel good, and wonder why I had to fight so much inertia.

If this sounds at all like you, you might be interested in this website I was just introduced to by my friend Iris, the Americans of Conscience Checklist.

I signed up to receive the weekly Checklist via email. It’s pretty much exactly what it sounds like. As it tells you on the home page,

the AoC Checklist features clear, well-researched actions for Americans who value democracy, equality, voting, and respect. To stay engaged through challenging times, we practice gratitude, self-care, and celebration.

So I get the best of both worlds: a definitive, time-based reminder that’s done all my legwork for me. All I have to do is choose one thing–boom, done. I can go deeper if I want, but that’s entirely up to me.

My own little bit for America (photo by SweetShutter, courtesy Wikimedia Commons)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Take this week’s list, for example. It offers actions to take if you are concerned about…

…advocating for a crucial safeguard against election fraud:

[h/t Verified Voting]Call: Your two state legislators (look up).

Script: Hi, I’m calling from [ZIP] because I want security around [STATE]’s elections to be public and trustworthy. Nonpartisan experts agree that a specific type of post-election oversight called a risk-limiting audit (RLA) is the strongest and most cost-effective defense against malfunctioning or hacked voting systems. Can I count on [NAME] to support mandatory RLAs in [STATE] beginning with the 2020 presidential primaries? Thank you.

…the rights of vulnerable people, like Native American women:

 [h/t National Indigenous Women’s Resource Center] Call: Your two senators (look up).

Script: Hi. I’m calling from [ZIP] to express my deep frustration that the Senate still has not acted on the Violence Against Women Act, lapsed now for more than a year. As a result, Native American women in particular are even more vulnerable to assault and rape. I’m asking [NAME] to support the complete House version (H.R. 1585) and call for an immediate vote on it.

The checklist goes on to offer a name of someone worthy of thanking. This week, it suggests: “Thank NBA Commissioner Adam Silver for affirming employees’ individual rights to freedom of expression.”

And of course it provides Mr. Silver’s address.

Then comes my favorite part, the Good News section. Don’t know about you, but I need this stuff to keep me hopeful! There’s national good news…

A federal court issues a temporary injunction against the administration’s “public charge” rule, which would limit aspiring Americans’ ability to receive green cards should they need to utilize public assistance. 

…as well as state-by-state, like this from Vermont:

VT will allow young adults aged 18-20 with criminal charges to remain in the juvenile court system, providing them with age-appropriate services and allowing them to avoid a life-altering criminal record.

Way to go, Vermont! I doubt I would have learned that news from any other source.

Point is, my inertia doesn’t stand a chance against this kind of easy, hand-picked list of ways to weigh in on things I do care about, even if you wouldn’t know it from my laziness. If you can relate to this at all, I hope you’ll consider checking out the Americans of Conscience Checklist here.

Let’s go, America! (photo by finn, courtesy Wikimedia Commons)