The day is November 6th, 2024, the day after the United States Presidential election. As a Canadian — specifically as a Queer Métis boy currently living in conservative Alberta — I see so many in grief and shock at the fact Donald Trump not only won, but won in an overwhelming landslide. The unthinkable has happened, a nightmare scenario we hoped was behind us. Of course there is grief —for our own provincial government is currently in the process of passing the most anti-Trans bills in the province’s history, a cruel and calculated attack on some of our most vulnerable. The weight of this political climate, both locally and across the border, feels suffocating and all-consuming.

But I am not here to write a disappointed lamentation or wallow in despair that this is “the worst thing so far”. Those feelings are real and valid, but they will not move us forward. I am here to spread the most compelling rhetoric of hope and love possible, to remind us of our collective power and resilience in the face of adversity. I am here to say: I see you, I hear you, I feel your pain — and I am here for you, unconditionally and without reservation.

The Broken Framework

When I was younger, there was a framework — particularly taught in public schools — that the neoliberal society we live in would get better. Slowly — painfully slowly — but always veering towards progress, equity and love. It was an alluring narrative, one that allowed us to maintain a semblance of optimism even as the world around us crumbled. So many of my brothers and sisters became disillusioned with this as our generation witnessed the unrelenting brutality of injustice — police violence against Black and Indigenous communities, anti-2SLGBTQ legislation stripping away hard-fought rights, rollbacks of reproductive freedoms, immigrant families torn apart by deportations, climate catastrophe — and the victory of Donald Trump eight years ago, which felt like a repudiation of everything we believed in.

The disenfranchisement and grief of my brothers and sisters over the possibility of things only getting worse is valid. These feelings are rooted in our lived experiences, in the trauma and oppression we have endured. I will not diminish the legitimacy of that pain, the fear that comes from being marginalized and targeted by those in power. But that is not the only road ahead. It is one of many possible futures, and we have the ability to choose a different path, to carve out a new way forward even in the darkest of times.

Why Listen?

I recognize my own privilege, as a white-passing, male-passing, straight-passing person. I know that my experience of marginalization is not the same as those who live at the intersections of multiple oppressed identities. It may seem naive or tone-deaf to say “don’t worry, we can still make things better!” from a position of relative safety and insulation. But I ask you to take it in good faith, as a possible universality — a belief that we can still move forward, do good, meet people where they are, even when the odds seem insurmountable. The ultra-rich bad-faith orchestrators of this intricate loss, who have poured millions into suppressing our votes and our voices, will be blindsided by our ability to continue fighting, our unwavering commitment to hope and love in the face of their greed and hatred. This is where our power is most potent, where we can strike at the very heart of their agenda.

Let’s be clear: the forces we are up against are formidable and ruthless. They have spent decades building a system designed to maintain their wealth and power at any cost, even if it means trampling on the most basic human rights and dignities. They will not relinquish their grip easily, and they will use every tool at their disposal to keep us divided, distracted, and demoralized.

On Fear

But here’s the thing: they are terrified of us. They are terrified of our numbers, our passion, our unshakable conviction that a better world is possible. They know that if we come together across lines of race, class, gender, and sexuality, we have the power to bring their entire house of cards crashing down. That’s why they work so hard to keep us fighting each other instead of fighting them. That’s why they pour so much money into disinformation campaigns and voter suppression efforts. They know that our unity is their greatest weakness.

Let’s give them something to be terrified about. Let’s show them that we are not content to sit back and watch as they destroy everything we hold dear. Let’s get organized, get strategic, and hit them where it hurts. By building power on every level — from our local communities to the halls of government. By supporting each other through mutual aid and solidarity, creating networks of care and resistance that can sustain us through the hard times ahead. By being relentless in our demands for justice, even when those in power try to silence or dismiss us.

What To Do Next, Now

I want to personally focus more of my time and energy on uplifting others, on building the kind of world we know is possible. I want to do the good, invisible work of community organizing, mutual aid, and direct action to pave a different road, one that leads towards liberation for all.

Everything in this material world is fragile and finite, subject to decay and destruction. Except maybe love; love is vast, unending, a force of nature that cannot be contained. People can try to stomp it out, to legislate against it, to erase it from public view, but it refuses to be extinguished. It is our most important work to nurture hope and love in ourselves and others, to tend to the embers of radical imagination even in the coldest of winters. For I am you and you are me, inextricably bound together in this web of existence. If I can be full of hope, so can you — and so can every person reading these words.

The next election for most is years away, a distant horizon that feels impossibly far from where we stand now. But don’t be tricked into thinking voting is your only power as a citizen, that you are helpless in the meantime. Take direct action, starting now:

  • Volunteer with local 2SLGBTQ support organizations to provide resources and community for those most impacted by discriminatory laws. Be a visible and vocal ally, using your privilege to shield others from harm.
  • Donate to abortion access funds and trans healthcare initiatives to help people get the care they need in the face of increasing restrictions. Put your money where your mouth is and fund the front lines of this fight.
  • Join community mutual aid efforts to support the most vulnerable among us, providing food, shelter, and solidarity to those who have been abandoned by the state. Show up for your neighbors in tangible ways, building networks of care that can withstand any storm.
  • Attend city council meetings and advocate for protecting human rights at the local level, pushing back against the trickle-down effect of national politics. Make your voice heard, even when it shakes with rage or fear.
  • Organize rallies and marches to show solidarity and build collective power, reminding those in positions of authority that we are watching and we will hold them accountable. Take to the streets, take up space, and make it impossible for anyone to ignore our demands.
  • Vote in every local election, not just federal ones, to build progressive power from the ground up and lay the foundation for larger-scale change. Don’t let them convince you that your vote doesn’t matter; it’s one of the most powerful tools we have.

These actions may seem impossibly small in the face of such overwhelming opposition, but they are seeds of a brighter future, one that we can grow together through sustained effort and unshakable belief. We are planting a garden in the midst of wasteland, tending to the fragile shoots of hope and resistance with every act of love and defiance.

Nourish The Spirit

The concrete steps you take are crucial, but your mental and spiritual state is equally important. We must recognize the power of believing in ourselves and our shared future, of envisioning a world beyond the pain and heartbreak of the present moment. Hold fast to the knowledge that a better way is possible, even when every headline and news alert tells us otherwise. Nurture your hope like a precious flame, shielding it from the winds of despair and apathy. It’s only just begun, this long and winding road to justice — and we need every single one of us to keep walking, even when our feet are tired and our spirits are weary.

I know you feel exhausted, as though being asked to do more in this moment is too much to bear — and that is exactly where they want us, beaten down and resigned to our fate. But we cannot afford to give in to that exhaustion, to let ourselves be lulled into complacency or despair. The stakes are too high — consequences too dire. We must fight the urge to give in by any means necessary.

Cultivate an antifragile spirit, a Hydra mentality that allows us to become stronger and more resilient when attacked. Like that mythical beast, we can grow three heads when one is severed, becoming more numerous and harder to defeat with every attempt to crush our resolve. Let the cruelty and ignorance of our opponents be the fuel that inspires us to fight harder, to be louder and more uncompromising in our demands for change. We are the ones who have everything to gain.

What Did bell hooks Think?

For optimism is essential and strategic, not a frivolous luxury but our vital necessity. As bell hooks wondered, “why [are] people so pessimistic when American history actually supports optimism?” Our ancestors fought and bled for the rights we have today, often in the face of even greater odds than we face now. They believed that a better world was possible, and they worked tirelessly to make it a reality. We owe it to them, and to ourselves, to carry on that legacy of hopeful struggle. In the words of Noam Chomsky, “Optimism is a strategy for making a better future. Because unless you believe that the future can be better, you are unlikely to step up and take responsibility for making it so.”

Hope is not a fleeting emotion but a dimension of the soul, as Vaclav Havel wrote. It is a fundamental part of who we are, an innate human capacity that allows us to imagine possibilities beyond our current circumstances. When we tap into that wellspring of hope, we can find the courage and determination to keep going even in the darkest of times. As Jack Layton said in his final letter to Canadians before his death, “My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we’ll change the world.” Those words are a call to action, a reminder that we have the power to shape our own destiny and create a society built on compassion and justice.

Grieve but do not be consumed by despair. Feel pain but do not let it define us. Be angry and channel anger into righteous fury by action. There is still so much worth fighting for, still so much beauty and joy to be found in the struggle for a better world.

The road ahead is long and the journey will not be easy. We will always face setbacks and disappointments, moments when it feels like all our efforts are in vain. We are up to the challenge, that we have the strength and resilience to keep going no matter what obstacles are thrown in our path.

What Is Love?

Love is a force more powerful than any weapon wielded against us. The stubborn, unshakable conviction that every human being deserves to live with dignity and joy — that there is enough for everyone if we are brave enough to share it. The radical act of seeing humanity in those who have been taught to hate us, of extending compassion even to those who would do us harm.

Love is not a passive thing, not a feel-good platitude to be whispered in the dark. It is a fierce and uncompromising commitment to justice, a refusal to let fear or hatred win out over hope and compassion. It is the hard, unglamorous work of showing up day after day, of putting our bodies and our voices on the line for what we believe in. It is the quiet, steady accumulation of small acts of kindness and resistance, each one a pebble in the avalanche that will eventually sweep away everything in its path.

And that, my friends, is the most revolutionary thing we can do in the face of such overwhelming darkness. To love each other fiercely and unapologetically, to build communities of care and solidarity. To hold fast to the belief that a better world is possible, even when everything around us seems to be falling apart. To keep planting seeds of hope and resistance, even in the most barren and inhospitable soil. One day, those seeds will take root and bloom into something beautiful beyond our wildest imagining.

Take heart, love. Take care of yourselves and each other. And never, ever stop believing that we have the power to change everything. Get to work.

I am too full of unbridled hope that cannot be taken from me to think anything else.