The Ungovernable

 



I moved to the Midwest thinking I'd escaped my East Coast liberal bubble that I'd find a more balanced reality. I thought I'd be finding different valid world views that would help me understand things. Well I do understand things now. What I've found is that there's a game being played everywhere: an unspoken social contract where you agree to stay silent about injustice in order to keep your seat at the table. In these new rooms I found myself in, the rules were suddenly visible to me. I saw how being part of an in-crowd became permission to make jokes about 'others.' I was around people who didn't understand that their own employees wouldn't honestly laugh at racist jokes directed at at them. 


I got used to saying "that joke's not funny." I wasn't trying to make some grand moral stand - well, maybe I was - but I had honestly heard too many things that made me uncomfortable and was ready to be uncomfortable on my own terms.

I learned that the discomfort from saying "I’m not okay with how we’re talking right now." was a much better discomfort than silence. It was one where I could at least trust my own perception.


If I look at my own life honestly, I know I've been controlled by shame and fear at times. These mechanisms work well at every scale, all the way from our most personal relationships to the deepest systems of oppression - white supremacy, patriarchy, capitalism. Same code: keep you from knowing yourself so you'll keep playing by the rules of the game.


That's why masks are such a big part of the game. Hiding who you are or hiding your face. The shame keeps the hood locked on and stirs fear in those watching what unfolds.


That fear can then be used to train us into submission. Make us afraid of standing alone, of being targeted next, of speaking out when it could cost you everything. Fear of confrontation becomes the lock on the prison door. But you can walk right through it - and into freedom.


Because here's what I learned: the discomfort of speaking your truth is different than the discomfort of silence. One lets you see yourself clearly. The other slowly erases you.


The moment you know yourself - what you believe, what you will and won't tolerate, what's yours versus what's been imposed on you, when you trust your own perception - you become ungovernable. That's why every system designed to control you depends on keeping you absent from yourself.

Social media, advertising, abusive relationships - they weaponize your hunger for connection. Keep you scrolling, performing, seeking something that never fills you up.


These systems feed on us questioning ourselves so we continue to override our intuition. You know that feeling when you prioritize someone else's comfort over your own internal compass or safety? That's your boundary being crossed. That's your real self telling you something's wrong. Learning to trust that voice again is how you begin to recognize what's truly yours. And that will allow us to build relationships where we don't have to perform or shrink ourselves or ever ask others to shrink for us.


And this is the very first building block to a real community where we can take off the masks. It's not easy to take off something you've worn your whole life. You might not even realize you're wearing it. We've all been holding up these systems for so long that sometimes you can't even see there's another way to live.


But I've seen it. Authentic community exists.  I was at an LGBTQ+ playgroup recently, taking to someone who works with the kids. She told me this next generation truly wants to know each other and to be seen for who they are. The kindness behind her words made it clear to me - all these ripples, these acts of care spreading outward in a million quiet ways. We're all building these spaces rooted in peace instead of fear. I watched ICE move through my community like a virus and saw us all respond as one living body protecting itself. Strangers ordering food for each other, sharing resources, treating injuries, making sure everyone was fed. That's what's going on in the background of the violence on our screens. That's the part they don't want you to see. We're standing up to tyranny. We're taking care of each other in our streets. We're finding what is real and true in ourselves because we have to. It might be scary to watch the old world crumble, but just look at what's growing under the falling scaffolding.

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