Are any of you big fans of protesting? We can argue about how effective it is, but at minimum it reminds people that YES there is opposition to the current regime, and it provides an excellent opportunity to make friends and solidify networks, both of which we need to remain resilient in the face of ongoing challenges.

Then there are those who are uncomfortable joining protests for various reasons. Whatever your feeling about them, let me share briefly some of my recent experiences of attending protests. Mostly this is in Santa Fe, although I did attend one Tesla Takedown in Albuquerque.

Despite the summer heat and some negative reactions, I always enjoy the actions. I get to meet other protesters; sometimes a friendship develops. It’s fun to wave at those driving by. Most of those driving past ignore us. Many are positive: honking, a few waves, some thumbs up, the occasional shout of agreement. Sometimes the indications of pleasure at seeing us out there—especially when we have anti-ICE signs—is so palpable, I get emotional. A few of us standing with signs can make a big difference in someone’s day.

And then of course, a few angry Trump supporters have given us the thumbs down, flipped the bird, or shouted at us. Once, one or two men in pickup trucks revved their engines and went flying around the corner in a display of masculine aggression. Their behavior contained an implicit threat: not only do I disagree with you, but I would be happy to kill you.

After one of the No Kings events, I got on the Railrunner with several other women, all carrying our signs. When the conductor came to check our tickets, not only did I recognize him, but I knew his political affiliation: on a previous ride when we were chatting, he had mentioned who he had voted for in the presidential election.

“How are you ladies doing?” he asked with a smile.

“We just got back from protesting your favorite president,” I replied with a grin.

“I did vote for Trump,” he admitted.

The women all lit into him in a friendly, joking way. He fumbled with his ticket machine. “You are a rabble rouser, aren’t you?” he said repeatedly to me. After he finally managed to issue and check our tickets, he backed out of the carriage while the women hooted in laughter: “He’s afraid of us!” Of course, we all knew he wasn’t. A group of elderly ladies is hardly threatening. We were all simply making the most of the moment, relishing the chance to laugh rather than argue over our political differences.

It is difficult to counsel people to be calm and empathetic in these highly troubled times. Some people are horrified by the number of children and youth confused about their gender identity or by the idea of trans athletes. Many are terrified by the threatened loss of Social Security, Medicaid, and Medicare, or economic upheavals, or the refusal of the White House to obey the law, or the unprecedented and utterly open corruption. Terror isn’t productive, but anger can be both appropriate and useful, giving us the energy we need to fight for what we believe in.

But it is vital to remember who is at fault and who is merely a pawn in a game controlled by the billionaires. We need to target our anger against those who deserve it: the politicians who benefit from the chaos, those who are making millions or billions by robbing from the poor and middle class, those who spout lies and hate in order to continue dividing us.

Both sides of the political divide are guilty of dehumanizing the other when instead we should focus on our commonalities. The average person, whether an older lady riding the train or a younger man speeding in a pickup truck, have more in common than we like to remember: we all want economic security, good schools, quality health care, and safe neighborhoods.

And if we’re ever going to get all that and more, we need to reach out to the apathetic and scared; we need to learn to find our common ground; and even, when possible, joke rather than fight over our differences. Because the price of mistargeting our anger is too high.

I appreciate my fellow protesters who gently urge shoppers at Whole Foods to stop supporting Bezos and his ICE and war machines (“We’re all about encouraging, not shaming”). I appreciate the protesters who smile and give the peace sign while men give us the finger or yell. I have a lot to learn from them, just as I do from the reactions of the small minority of haters. Democracy, after all, is a complex thing, and it takes a lot of different moving parts for it to function well.

So yeah, I’m going to continue joining protests, both big and small. The pleasure of our supporters is euphoria-inducing. It’s important to show that apathy is not winning the day. And when I can, I’m going to try to connect with the haters in a positive way.

If you’d like to experience some of this yourself, please do join one of the activities regularly listed in our newsletter!

Oh, and fear not. I think the Trump-supporting Railrunner conductor has forgiven my rowdy behavior. We now regularly hug when we meet!