Grinding your teeth and fuming about the administration’s latest tyrannical action is the first step of resistance. Next is to turn that fury outward. One easy act is to wear to a button. Back in 2016, right after Trump was elected for his first term, I participated in the Women’s March and I bought a button. “Another Nasty Woman Against Trump,” has been pinned to my winter bubble jacket ever since. It isn’t a very large or very colorful button, but its message is clear.
I often forget about the jacket’s button, so the frequency of strangers’ comments surprises me. In the elevator, on the metro, or just walking along the street, people will smile, nod, wave, and sometimes begin a conversation. They seem glad to see the button, let me know that they have seen it, and most of all, agree with its sentiment.
Every time this happens my day gains a bright spot. It counters the constant stream of sensational headlines with a moment of fellowship. I am not alone. There are many people who care for the values I care about. I do not know how many would call themselves feminists or would join a march or protest, but I do know they do not like what is happening. They recognize my button as a sign of resistance and they want to connect. They want to tell me that they too care about democracy and justice for all.
Wearing a button requires no additional action or explanation. My button is an expression of personal outrage that eases my feelings of powerless anger. Wearing a button, however, is also a public statement. Like flags, banners, hats, shirts, badges, sashes, feathers, and pebbles, buttons have a political history. Used by patriots during the American revolution, labor organizers in the early years of industrialization, and women leading the fight for suffrage buttons hold an honorable place in pantheon of opposition. My button invites a connection and comradeship with the stranger standing next to me who shares my abhorrence for the contemporary misuse of power. My button is the first step in resistance.
A button alone won’t shift politics, and one shared moment can’t form a movement. But buttons should not be underestimated as contributors to an effective resistance against arbitrary authority. They allow us all to move from useless and frustrating expressions of personal anger to public and collective action. We become resisters. We can be counted as challengers to the misuse of power.
Everyone cares about someone or something that will thrive better under a law abiding, inclusive, and democratic government. What is your cause? Your passion? What sparks your fury at te abuse of power? Find a button and wear it. It’s easy to wear a button and to support American democracy.
At 84 years old, Marjorie Lightman is a Senior/Senior. She is also a community activist, former ANC Commissioner, and a working partner in QED Associates LLC, a consulting firm focused on creative solutions for complex projects in the non-profit sector. A longtime resident of the Southwest, Dr. Lightman has turned her considerable energy and intellect to issues of discrimination based on age compounded by gender and race. She invites all like-minded Seniors to join her circle of colleagues prepared to create a future in which ability inclination and choice govern decisions to work or not work, engage or not engage, during an expected three decades of life after sixty-five.
