What does Your Version of Resistance Look Like?
It might be smaller than you think
Ruth Bader Ginsburg graduated from Columbia Law School 1st in her class (yes, ahead of every man) in 1958. She had also been 1st in her class at Harvard prior to transferring to Columbia for her final year to be nearer to her husband, also a lawyer, who a law firm had hired. Yet, upon graduation, not a single law firm would hire Ruth because she was not a man. She had attended her classes, cared for their child, and also attended her husband’s law classes for him as he fought cancer. And yet, despite this impossible workload, she still graduated first in her class. I want you to imagine any man graduating 1st in his class at Columbia Law and not being sought after.
I also want you to imagine, just for a moment, the scope of Ruth’s rage at this injustice.
A bright supernova swallowed into a patriarchal black hole. To have to survive in a space meant to crush you is maddening.
There is a Fine Line Between Stubbornness and Tenacity
After days of hiking and sleeping on the ground solo in the Joshua Tree National Park and then more days at AWP, a writers conference, in LA listening to authors talk about writing for Resistance, I find myself on an airplane in row 22C fighting a six foot tall 20-something man for elbow space—like physically fighting him for an inch of space.
Meanwhile, I’m watching On the Basis of Sex on my phone, a movie about Supreme Court Justice, Ruth Bader Ginsburg—I watch Ruth, a small woman who is bigger than life, forced into tiny spaces, while this man next to me simultaneously presses his right elbow against mine and pushes steadily and forcefully hard to remove me from the armrest. But I will not move. I hold my elbow firm on my half of the tiny armrest like I am in a tug-of-war for my life. And immediately, the armrest is no longer an inch of space thirty thousand feet in the air that a man has decided he is entitled to more than me; it is about a man trying to block me from spaces (The Boy Scouts, Little League, The Army) so he can occupy ALL of it, and I am not having it.
I once read a short story where a woman who has just been wed in an arranged marriage in India finds herself in bed with her new husband. He rolls over to sleep, wrapping himself in the sheet, which inadvertently uncovers her. There would never be enough left over for her, she realizes, lying there in the cold night of the clear metaphor of the rest of her life.
“You do not own the armrest,” I say with a calmness that excites me after several minutes of holding my elbow firmly in place as he pushes fiercely against me. I mentally toy with the mechanics of castration on a plane and consider what tools I have at my disposal. Rubber bands attached to a paperclip twisting.
“You can have the front,” he responds, nodding at the front half of the armrest, his voice irritated with my refusal to move out of his way. I look at the space he’s left me. As if my elbows could even reach that far forward. As if we’re still talking about elbow room.
He’s with a group of other twentysomethings, young men and women all returning from some outdoor group wilderness (perhaps church?) adventure. I’ve been listening to them discussing things like their upcoming weddings, and I want to internet-stalk his fiance and help her understand she’s marrying a man who literally won’t allow a woman twice his age and half his size to share even his armrest.
If you know me, you will know that I did not budge a single centimeter until forty-five minutes later when the plane landed, taxied, and deboarded. I would have let my arm be fed into a mangler before I would have budged. No matter how he pushed against me, I met him with equal force. I met him with the rage of a woman watching an RBG film, prepared to cut his balls. And when I deplaned, I took my time, slowly gathering my things, blocking the whole aisle with my tiny body until I was done. I would not let this prick of a man push me aside, no matter how small the stakes. I met his microaggression with my microresistance. Give an inch, and they will take our Country, I thought.
At AWP, I listened to the poet Christopher Soto, who wrote a book of poems called Journals of a Terrorist. He’s a striking, articulate, soft-spoken man with a neck tattoo. He said something in the panel I attended on resistance that struck me to the core. He said, if you wait for the red line to be crossed, if you keep asking yourself what’s the point at which we’re in a constitutional crisis? What’s the point at which this is an authoritarian government? whats the line I need to wait for to be sure this is here? It will be too late. You are already there. You have to fight it now or you will not have the power to fight when you clearly know you are there. YOU ARE THERE. Fight now!
Senator Cory Booker Erasing the Record of a Racist is Everything
By now we all know that Senator Cory Booker spoke in protest on the Senate floor for 25 hours, literally standing up to the Trump Administration. He fasted for days and dehydrated himself in preparation for an epic protest in which he would not be able to use facilities or sit down.
“The power of the people is greater than the people in power…To redeem the soul of the nation…Let’s be bold in America..it’s not left or right, it’s right or wrong…let’s get into good trouble”
-Senator Cory Booker
Here’s where you can go to thank him for his Service:
Protests: What to Wear, Who Not to Bring, and Where to Go
This weekend, on Saturday April 5th, 2025, consider attending a protest to continue fighting this Regime. Protests are taking place all across America. Here’s your guide to showing up to a protest prepared, finding a protest near you, and protecting yourself and your rights:
There’s Hope
Susan Crawford’s Wisconsin Supreme Court win, despite Elon Musk flooding the opposition with funding is the hope we needed to go forward.
One last thought: When it comes to tenacity:
Tiny giant women are standing up in defiance. Eighty-year-old Lynn McFarland stood up for the rights of undocumented immigrant children to be educated and was hauled out by police. She refused to leave until she was heard.
Republicans and Democrats coming together to support the right for lawmakers who are new parents to vote by proxy is another fight we need. We all know that parents rights most support women. And when men are also allowed the right to parent equally it gives women the space they need for actual equality at home and in the workplace.
There are so many beautiful things happening right now. I want us all to just take a moment to relish these events and the strength of the American people to stand up to injustice and keep fighting for a better country. It’s not over. Keep getting up each day and making a small difference in any way you can.
RBG did not allow herself to be crushed. She did not allow her fire to be extinguished. She remained level-headed and strong-willed; she surrounded herself with people who saw her strength. She calculated and planned and pushed inch by inch, case by case. Very few of us will ever have the impact that RBG did. She was a giant.
Not every fight is worth your energy. Instead of fighting a man on a plane for elbow room, use your energy more wisely to demand that justice be restored. We can do small things en masse and produce a large impact. Be a Cory. Be a Ruth. Be a Christopher. Be a Susan. Be a Lynn. Be You. In whatever way is you, get out there and be heard.
A perfect entry. This line especially, loved: "I would have let my arm be fed into a mangler before I would have budged." I love too that we both wrote about AWP, in two different ways, today. And both referenced the same panel.
You give me hope, Amy.