I am someone who cares deeply about things; about the people I love, about the constant threats to my neighbors and community from the federal government, about the war and genocide that flood our news feeds and are being funded by our tax dollars. Honestly, it’s a lot. It’s easy to let it weigh me down, especially at such a crucial point in my life — figuring out who I am and how I want to live in this world. 

It’s easy to become paralyzed by this fear and doubt. Particularly when I hear my white peers saying, “I can’t do anything about it so I’ll just ignore it.” 

For those who don’t fit the U.S. ideal of a straight, able-bodied and white, “just ignoring it” is not a possibility. Every single day the federal government is working towards taking away the rights of people of color, queer people, disabled people, women, poor people — anyone who doesn’t find themselves in the wealthy elite. 

You should be angry. You should be scared. You should care about the people around you.

As someone who is involved in grassroots organizations and movements, I am aware that the courage to make change is not an individual endeavor, but one that must be done in community. It is only in community that we are able to sustain a movement.

While we aspire to make change, not only must we hold onto our anger, but we must also ground ourselves in joy. This is where community comes in. 

In the summer of 2024, I joined Mennonite Action on their “All God’s Children March for a Ceasefire.” This was an 11-day march from Harrisonburg, Virginia to Washington D.C. The march was to oppose the genocide in Palestine, and offer a peaceful Christian witness in opposition to Christian nationalism.

While we were marching to oppose genocide and violence, putting our anger into action, we sustained ourselves with joy — bringing out Dutch Blitz and other card games in the evening; playing guess the song while walking through small towns in rural Virginia.

Seeking joy is essential to my overall wellbeing and growth. Joy is not the same as happiness. While I think of happiness more as a temporary emotion, I see joy as a longer-term state of being. It is a constant decision to center love and hope in your everyday existence. 

Joy looks like getting a little too heated playing Secret Hitler with my housemates — being very aware of the relevance to our current political state. Joy looks like watching a cheesy rom-com as a reprieve from homework. Joy looks like pouring a glass of Milo’s sweet tea to get me through the afternoon. 

I don’t seek joy only for personal benefit, but also as a form of resistance. The systems of oppression that are the foundation of white Western society want you to be tired and numb. You are much easier to control and manipulate when you don’t care.

So care. Act in love and anger and fear. Spend time hanging out with your friends. Spend time making art, reading books, resisting the anti-intellectualism that is being driven by the rise of fascism and artificial intelligence.

While writing this editorial, I was talking to my friend and housemate, Teo Kingsley. He said, “Creating art is a radical choice to choose to believe the world can be a better place.”

Joy is resistance — so resist.