When Faced with Tyrants, be a Zelensky
An essay on debate, resiliency, and tenacity
About ten years ago, my dad handed me a pistol and said, “A civil war is coming, and we won’t be on the same side. So, you’re gonna need this.”
The gun came with a box of old things that had been stored in the attic, while the gun had been locked in my dad’s safe while I’d been in the Army. I was a few years post-Army and working at Boeing, and my parents had driven from rural Pennsylvania to visit me in the Pacific Northwest— to see the home I’d bought with a now former partner, and to visit their grandaughter who was old enough to be beaten mercilessly by my father at checkers.
My parents are what I would call Old Guard Reagan Republicans. They hold socially and fiscally conservative values and respect a certain level of decorum. My father was a Railroad engineer, and my mom was a Grant Writer and Project Manager for a non-profit agency in a small snow belt town just south of Lake Erie. They abhor profanity. Honesty and hard work are their religion. Instead of vacations, we spent our summers hauling wood and weeding the garden.
I grew up debating politics with my dad over dinner. I believed in providing basic needs and education assistance for people who were struggling to overcome systemic racism, and he believed people should work harder and get a second job. Rush Limbaugh played on the AM radio in the evening while my dad smoked and sat by the wood stove. (If you don’t know who Rush Limbaugh is, think of him as the Fox News of AM radio in the 1980s.) The radio was LOUD because my father, only in his 40s then, was already going deaf from his years on the engine. As I read 1984 by Orwell and wrote papers for my AP Honors English course in my bedroom, I also mentally debated Rush on the loud radio and his racist misogynist ranting. My father and I share stoic tenacious outspoken personalities, but our views couldn’t have been more polarized. Yet, we debated. Over lunch. Over dinner. We debated the George H.W. Bush policies (then later George W.), then Clinton’s (Bill, though years later it would be Hillary). Politics was always a topic to be discussed, and though we disagreed completely on every issue (other than abortion, where both my parents have always been pro-choice), those conversations allowed me to formulate my feminist and social justice ideologies as a response.
I now recognize that civil debate fueled my growth as a thinker and activist, and tolerance of those differences and the willingness for debate in my childhood home created an environment for me to become someone who could anticipate a gut punch when I was out in the world. I was learning to argue, fight, and bounce back. That resiliency was paramount to my stoic survival when I was in the liberal minority among a sea of right-wingers in the Army. It allowed me to anticipate attacks, remain resilient, and know how to strategically counter them when men tried to block me from spaces I knew I belonged.
Fast-forward to today, my dad’s in his 80s and spends his days working in his barn refurbishing antiques with Fox News on in the background, and while he found the January 6th insurrection unacceptable, he has now voted for Trump twice. As Project 2025 is being implemented with Trump as the sledghammer—Elon Musk an unelected billionare tech bro has gutted government agencies and fired thousands of workers, international aid shut down, executive orders signed to end diversity initiatives and curtail the rights of trans, women, and minorities; asylum blocked to immigrants; trans soldiers are being pitched from the military; Generals disloyal to Trump fired along with Inspector Generals and anyone in any position that might oppose his wrath beheaded from power.
When Trump and Vance sat down with Volodymyr Zelinsky, a man who wears plain clothes and has borne the weight of a country fighting for survival, and berated him like a petulant child in the Oval Office, all for the favor of Russia and the far right, I felt shame for the America I still want to believe in. I watched Zelinsky refuse to acquese to Trump and Vance. I watched him maintain his composure as he was grossly demeaned by men without an ounce of his bravery or tenacity. I watched Zelinsky, who represents all that America once stood for, an America that stands up with dignity and speaks out and refuses to back down against an oppressor. An America that fights for freedom and democracy in the world. And I thought, how did we get here?
The coup has occurred. The oppression and misinformation of 1984 and The Handmaid’s Tale are unfolding in reality. The civil debate of my childhood in which people of opposing views discussed policy over grilled cheese sandwiches, passed the pickles, and then went on living together feels lost. Fascism is here. It’s time to prepare.
“I need to get ammo for that pistol and my shotgun,” I texted my dad a couple of weeks ago. “In case of a civil war…and need to know what will be best…”
This is how I found myself in a text string debating politics with my dad while simultaneously receiving advice on which caliber bullets to purchase in case we went to war against each other.
While I’d had to go to the range to qualify with a 9mm every six months in the Army, where I served as a helicopter pilot for seven years, I have never been someone to go to a shooting range for fun or proficiency and while I own a couple guns, I don’t keep much ammo around normally. Cue a trip to Cabellas between working on my brick patio and picking out an outfit to wear to the Oscar party I’m attending this afternoon at a friend’s house where we dress up and drink cocktails. This type of dual reality is the new reality. One where life goes on as if it’s normal, while life is not normal at all.
I read recently a projection that by summer, as protests increase, Trump will justify what is normally considered an unlawful order— using active duty military against our own citizens. This is the point at which there is no going back.
Which is why preparing for the long game and ensuring our resiliency is vital. We have to debate and protest, and contact our representatives and vote and prepare our go-bags, and gather our ammo, and go to work and take our kids to soccer and buy the new heeled boot and go on dates and make plans for the summer. We have to not leave our family that disagrees with us out of the conversation. We have to stay engaged and keep the space for America to come together again. And we have to do it all while bathing in self-care and not forgetting who we are. We have to take tiny steps toward fighting while not depleting our strength fully. We have to pick our battles, though there are a thousand battles. And we have to rest.
My sauna is done. I built it over the last six weeks and it is glorious. It is a self-care miracle. I’m now laying brick pavers for the wood-fired hot tub that should strategically make it in from Canada just before the second threat of Trump tariffs hit. We cannot stay strong without training daily, resting, and regrouping. Put your own air mask on first. Then go out and save those who cannot save themselves. It’s going to be a long fight, and we have to hold ourselves together and prepare for the long war, in whatever form it takes.
Don’t forget to subscribe, comment, and share. It’s your support that helps me be a voice that matters.
I’ve also been thinking of the duality. “Cabaret” comes to mind. Thank you.
I came here by way of Aimee Liu’s latest article and am glad to make your acquaintance. Your story is fascinating—especially the heated but civil debates you had with your father. (I know Limbaugh—the host parents who welcomed me when I first arrived in the States as a college student used to rave about his radio shows… over the decades, they have become right-wing Christian evangelicals.) In my culture (Chinese), we were not allowed to disagree with or “talk back” to our elders. So I never had a chance to learn to speak up for myself and my own perspectives. That’s why your story opened my eyes!
I resonate with this sentiment you described toward the end: “This type of dual reality is the new reality. One where life goes on as if it’s normal, while life is not normal at all.” It feels surreal to live in this kind of reality. But like it or not, it is here already.