Writing As Resistance
Fascist movements use a well-worn catalogue of strategies to craft their world into a fist.
Most of you know of this by now: the demonization of immigrants; the dehumanization of scapegoats, opponents, and foreigners; the alliances with other soul-sick bullies in other nations; the elevation of corporate power, its merging with state power; the use of “the Church” as a cudgel to force “true believers” into allegiance.
There is something else that fascist movements do: they erase or alter any objective narrative, or subjective story that dares critique. They rewrite history and the present for their preferred future, and they criminalize or eliminate those that would tell their own truths. Fascist movements despise and will prohibit storytelling that doesn’t hew to a formula designed to spotlight their alleged supremacy and sow terror in anyone with alternative versions. Ask any European author from the middle of the 20th century.
The story of the minimum wage worker.
The story of the immigrant.
The story of the refugee.
The story of women.
The story of queer folks.
The story of hatred and racism.
The story of equality, or justice, or - most of all - resistance.
Every single time that we gather enough breath and courage to tell our stories, we are writing back against the surge of fascist standardization and human erasure. Telling our stories is an act of resistance. Telling our stories loudly, beautifully, genuinely, and even with great humor, is a nonviolent strike back, and crucial fuel for truth and dissent.
If you’ve been wondering when would be the right time to tell your story, a story, I invite you to see Right Now as that time. It would be melodramatic, perhaps, to say “before it’s too late.” Instead I’ll just say, because the world is too dangerous for anything but truth.
Share yours.
Stay strong.