On Facism, Politics, and The Importance of Desert Bus

While I am beyond excited for Desert Bus, it would be remiss of me not to acknowledge the solemnity of this particular day. This might not all seem related but bear with me a (rather long) moment: 

Today marks two dark days in history. On this day in 2016, the United States woke up to a newly elected president who has proudly referred to himself as a nationalist, refused to condemn white supremacy, is explicitly racist, sexist, anti-Semitic and Islamophobic, has mocked the disabled community and attacked the queer community, and whose very presence in office has led to a steep increase in hate crimes against marginalized groups. 

Going back eighty years, on this day in 1938. Kristallnacht, or The Night of Broken Glass, marked the beginning of the Holocaust. The product of a political trajectory that had been barreling rapidly towards fascism and genocide, Kristallnacht is widely considered to be the turning point, after which there could be no question that Jewish Germans were no longer safe. Between November 9-10, Sturmabteilung, along with German citizens, destroyed nearly 300 synagogues and over 7,000 Jewish businesses. Estimates on the number of Jews who were murdered during Kristallnacht vary, but the number is likely in the hundreds. 

This Tuesday, I voted. The results of this week's elections reveled a wave of firsts for women, people of color, religious minorities, and LGBT+ individuals. The first openly gay governor. The first two Native America women in Congress. 100 women in the House of Representatives. Several states elected their first African American congresswomen. More openly-queer people were elected Tuesday than in any other election. The nation's representatives now look increasingly like the people they represent, and marginalized voices are going to heard louder and more clearly than ever. 

Tonight, I am going to synagogue to hear a choral performance entitled From Shtetl to Shul, which celebrates the music of Eastern American Jews, kept alive through persecution, pogrom, and outright genocide. On the 80th anniversary of Kristallnacht, this is more important than ever. Today is a solemn day to be a Jew, and a solemn day to be an American (at least if your personal ideologies and values reflect my own). 

Yet, I am spending it watching an absurdly silly gaming marathon. There's a cognitive dissonance in this, and yet it makes absolute sense. 

I have never met a more welcoming online community than the community behind Loading Ready Run, the originators of Desert Bus for Hope. I have never met a warmer, kinder, and more compassionate community than their fans. Over the past 15 years, the core community behind Loading Ready Run has become increasingly more diverse, representative, and socially aware and active. These content creators have challenged themselves to grow as artists and as humans, and their content deliberately and explicitly dismantles harmful notions such as toxic masculinity, heterocentricity, and white nationalism. Their fanbase is supportive, wholesome, and unendingly compassionate. 

Over the next few days, Desert Bus for Hope will, as previously stated, raise absurd amounts of money for charity. (Again, probably around five million dollars.) This money will be raised by fans who give generously to a cause they believe wholeheartedly in. Many of these donations will be in the form of bids to receive incredible hand-crafted items from other members of the community, or to challenge the Desert Bus crew to do ridiculous things for our entertainment. But, at the heart of this entire event is a simple conceit: strangers coming together to support and lift each other up. People giving selflessly to support both their community and the children who will benefit from the donations DB4H raise. 

 I don't have solutions for fascism, or genocide, or xenophobia. I don't have anything other than rage and sorrow. What I have is this: We need big changes. We need to vote. We need to rebel. We need to fight back on every level and at every opportunity, against dangerous and repressive ideologies. But we need small changes, too. The changes that keep everything going. We need compassion. We need generosity. This is not a call for reaching across the aisles and embracing our enemies; the time for that has passed. This is a call for finding your friends and allies, supporting them, and lifting them up. 

 Okay. Gonna go watch some nerds play the worst video game.