“Hope for a better world.
Hope for a better tomorrow.
Hope will never be silent.”
—Harvey Milk, California’s first openly-gay elected official
assassinated in San Francisco, November 27, 1978
On November 5, the evening began with disappointment.
Analysts had suggested that if early returns from Georgia were favorable, Democrats would likely have a very good night. But they were not favorable. And as the night wore on, our disappointment grew into shock and disbelief.
When Vice-President Harris announced that she would not be addressing her supporters until the next day, everyone understood. There would be no blue wave. In its place, a flood of grief washed over us.
While the moment is reminiscent of 2016, it’s infinitely more painful. Eight years ago, we knew we’d been too complacent. Hillary Clinton was so obviously the more highly-qualified candidate, that the Republican nominee — a clownish boor — was never taken seriously. There was a sense then, that maybe we’d blown it.
So in 2024, we took nothing for granted. At the grass roots, tens of thousands of volunteers worked tirelessly to get out the vote. There was no slacking off. If anything, commitment and enthusiasm intensified right up to the final hours.
This time, we didn’t blow it. We just lost. We hadn’t stumbled, we’d been run over.
For millions across the country, this writer included, the shock was akin to the sudden death of a loved one. In 2016, when we confronted the familiar disappointment of an electoral loss, we knew how to respond. A resistance movement spontaneously arose, coalitions formed and activists mobilized. But this time, we have been stunned into a kind of psychosomatic paralysis. We are grief-stricken, contemplating the potential demise of our liberal democracy itself.
In her books On Death and Dying and On Grief and Grieving, psychiatrist Elisabeth Kubler-Ross describes a process of five “stages” that people experience in the process of adjusting to loss: Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance. The first four may occur in any order and often will overlap with one another. But all must inevitably end with Acceptance (or delusion).
Over the last week we’ve seen all of these “stages” reflected on social media and in the comment sections of our favorite substack publications. And while our anger or depression may linger, denial and bargaining have begun to fade. There will indeed be another Trump presidency.
Acceptance is not acquiescence, nor is it submission.
As political activists, we are accustomed to evaluating and accepting reality as it presents itself. We are in the habit of setting aside our biases in order to view data as objectively as possible and strategize effectively. In that regard, this moment is no different.
What is different is that the challenge we now face is orders of magnitude greater than any we’ve seen before. And for that very reason, we must take it up. This is not just about who won an election, or what tax policy may be implemented. We are being called upon to stand and defend our country, its norms, traditions, and history as a democratic republic.
But we have suffered a truly enormous blow. And there are more to come, so much so that they may seem overwhelming. That is equally a part of our reality. Fearful and reeling, what will we do now? How do we restore the equilibrium needed to ground our response? What will be our lodestar as we navigate this new environment? To what will we tether our determination? The answer is Hopefulness.
The opposite of Hope is not Despair. It is Indifference.
Despair dwells in the shadow of hope. Despair recognizes the potential of a better tomorrow, but mourns its elusiveness. In that way, both arise from compassion—with hope inspiring activism, and despair fostering pity.
Indifference, on the other hand, rejects compassion altogether. Equally distant from both hope and despair, indifference risks poisoning a portion of the soul. While seeming to be a neutral state, it is in fact a kind of spiritual dead zone.
This observation is not intended to disparage those who have no space in their life at this time for political activism. For many of us in the Feathers of Hope community (certainly for myself) activism is a luxury, one that not everyone can afford. Likewise, many who’ve spent years working to promote their values in the political arena will be unable to recover from the pain of Kamala Harris’ defeat. To them, we are deeply grateful for their service and will continue to draw inspiration from their example.
But the point here is that we must resist any temptation to become indifferent. Indifference toward the suffering and struggle of others is not only the defining characteristic of the forces we are committed to opposing. It is also their fatal flaw, and will be the source of their ultimate defeat.
By nourishing hope we strengthen our resolve to build a better world.
Hopefulness is not the same as Optimism.
Often people equate being hopeful with being optimistic. While the two are not in active opposition, they occupy entirely different realms of being.
Optimism is a passive state. It is merely an expectation that outcomes will be favorable regardless of whatever indications there may be to the contrary. In a way, optimism is a bit like walking. For those who are optimistic, it requires no more effort than walking.
Hopefulness, on the other hand, is the mindset of activism. Together with faith in the possibility of success, and charity towards our fellow human beings, hope motivates and inspires. Arising from compassion, and undertaken with determination, hope is more like running than walking.
Vaclav Havel, the brilliant Czech poet, playwright and dissident who helped lead the “Prague Spring” and the “Velvet Revolution” that brought down communism in his country in 1969, described hope in this way:
HOPE is an orientation of the spirit, an orientation of the heart. It transcends the world that is immediately experienced and is anchored somewhere beyond its horizons.
HOPE in this deep and powerful sense is not the same as joy that things are going well or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously headed for early success, but rather an ability to work for something because it is good, not because it stands a chance to succeed.
HOPE is definitely not the same thing as optimism. It is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but certainty that something makes sense regardless of how it turns out.
It is HOPE, above all which gives the strength to live and continually try new things.
“Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul."
—Emily Dickinson
“History does not repeat, but it does instruct.”
—Timothy Snyder, On Tyranny
As regular readers of Feathers of Hope know, our work here is largely inspired by Timothy Snyder’s remarkably practical guide to preserving our freedoms. Reflecting on how fascist, communist and nazi authoritarians took power in 20th century Europe, Mr. Snyder draws twenty lessons for resisting authoritarian movements.
In the second of these lessons (“Defend Institutions”), he explains:
“The mistake is to assume that leaders who came to power through institutions cannot change or destroy those very institutions. Sometimes institutions are deprived of vitality and function, turned into a simulacrum of what they once were, so that they gird the new order rather than resisting it.”
With this observation in mind, he continues:
“It is institutions that help us to preserve decency. They need our help as well. Do not speak of “our institutions” unless you make them yours by acting on their behalf. Institutions do not protect themselves. They fall one after the other unless each is defended from the beginning. So choose an institution you care about — a court, a newspaper, a labor union — and take its side.”
We have chosen to take the side of the House of Representatives — to continue defending the People’s House against MAGA extremism. That has been our focus for nearly two years, and it will continue to be in 2025. At this time it’s impossible to predict what form that effort will take. Indeed, as of this writing, it’s not even certain which party will hold the majority.
The likelihood is that Republicans will prevail, but their majority will again be very slim. We should keep in mind that very real divisions remain within the Republican caucus. While those differences have been papered over during the campaign, we can expect to see them re-emerge fairly early in the 119th Congress next year. Not every Republican district is MAGA-dominated, and House members must be particularly responsive to their constituency if they want to be re-elected. This may again present opportunities for some temporary alliances of convenience, as happened last year.
It’s not much to hang our hat on, but it’s what we have. The worst thing we could do now would be to retreat from the arena. As Vice-President Harris implored us on November 6:
“The important thing is don't ever give up. Don't ever give up. Don't ever stop trying to make the world a better place.
This is not a time to throw up our hands. This is a time to roll up our sleeves!”
Feathers of Hope is a network of ordinary citizens. In a democracy, we exercise our power by raising our voices. To be silent is to be powerless.
Well written and thoughtful as always Jerry. If we can remake the House of Representatives as truly the People's House that it was meant to be, we'll have taken a huge step toward recovering and protecting our republic and our freedom. I'm with you.
Jerry, that was a brilliant call to arms at what seems to be the darkest hour, and from the Emily Dickinson quote, I (finally) see the significance of your site name.
And you're wise to keep a Focus for your efforts, in this case, stay with what you know, the House of Representatives. And I hope you're right about the deep and on-going divisions in the Republican Party; however, today I heard a Republican Rep say "If Trump asks us to jump 3 feet and scratch our heads, we'll jump 3 feet and scratch our heads." It seems more than ever that Trump has TOTAL and ABSOLUTE control over the House. And the Senate. And the Republican Party. America just gave Absolute Power to a malignant, vengeful, racist, misogynist psychopath (I may be understating the case) who is surrounding himself with sycophantic cowards.
The good news is: his Project 2025 and his Personnel to implement it all will eventually (hopefully sooner than later) implode. Mass deportations. Using DOJ and AG to "get" political opponents. Federal bans on abortion. Disengaging from climate change initiatives. Leaving NATO. TARIFFS and the resulting hyper-inflation and reciprocal trade wars. All of this spells disaster. And with complete power and control, he'll have no one to blame.
So a groundswell of resistance will arise in time ("what have we DONE???") and the only cure will be a "throw-these-bums-out" election.
But how long will this take. And another (haunting) line from Tim Snyder's "On Tyranny" is "any election can be the last."
So thank you Jerry for keeping the fire lit at the beginning of this dark era ahead of America (and the world - no country is an island). And your work with House will be Job One at that time - it's the People's House and in time The People will rise up and "take our country back" from Trump's neo-fascist regime. And you'll be laying the groundwork for that.
But for some of us, it is indeed time to disengage. At least from the "political" fight.
For me, my efforts will go back to my personal writings. Before starting my newsletter I had several books on the go, books about Courage and standing up to Tyrants. So it's time to go back to those efforts, and since a book can take a couple years to reach the shelves, maybe I'll have the right book for the moment to help oust this malignant regime that has taken over the nation.
We can only use our own uniques tools and talents, and for me, my political activities are over. But my anti-fascist efforts will go on. In 1935 Nobel winner Sinclair Lewis wrote "It Can't Happen Here" as a warning about fascism coming to America. I tried to raise the same alarm in my newsletter, but that didn't seem to help at all.
So now I'll try another tack. I've shut down my newsletter (although it's still up as an anti-Trump resource) but I'm already at work on a novel that hopefully will be the right message at the right moment.
Anyway, thank you for your efforts here, and for your "radical hopefulness." It's much needed in these insane times (Matt Gaetz as AG!!!!) and you've earned a place of honor in this battle. I've pretty well unsubscribed to everything, but I'll keep following you and your "radical hopefulness".
Stay well, and here's to healing a very sick nation.