AJ Alanson, Author

Yesterday, a friend lamented that they wanted to do something in the face of the fact that women’s rights are taking hits from so many directions, but with the sheer volume and variety of attacks, she couldn’t focus her efforts. (Psst…that’s by design.) Not to minimize her concerns in this political environment, I think I could replace “women’s rights” with about 400 other subgroups of the American population and the struggle holds true.

I’ve felt pressure, both from the people around me and from my own conscience, to DO SOMETHING so I’ve wrestled long with this question as well. Unfortunately, for the last, oh, I’d say 20 years, I believe our society wholeheartedly immersed itself in the cesspool of anonymous trolling and unverified claims of expertise (for the simple, selfish, ignorant, irresponsible reason that we wanted those claims to be true). This descent didn’t only serve to destroy manners, dignity, and trust, but to a large extent, this irreverence with our precious language has destroyed communication itself.

Before you write me off as another “get off my lawn” boomer, which I am not (too young and too inquisitive), I have a simple litmus test for all the shock and awe headlines swirling around the toilet bowl of my daily feeds. Ask yourself, in every case, if equal enforcement of the law would solve the problem. I know, I know, this isn’t the sexy, instant Kungfu we all crave in the face of authoritarianism, but while others are searching for the perfect comeback, I’m searching for points in the past where equal justice was bought off with the “right” color, creed, gender, wealth, religion, power, or just by Daddy.

To be clear, I’ve personally known more trust-funder, frat boy rapists then Mexicans. The car that sometimes sits in my middle-class cul de sac, waiting for other cars to pull up and exchange little things through the windows, are all nice wheels driven by white guys. The business fraud I’ve witnessed in my lifetime didn’t well up from the bottom of the job descriptions, but from the top down. The rich are innocent and the poor are guilty.

Not only is this fact the root of the latest audacious criminal, but each escape from justice gave that devolving human permission. We, all of us, in shrugging our shoulders and mumbling, “What can I do?” have created the big, fat, pasty, ugly monster devouring everything good in our world, and newsflash, greed will never be satiated. So, what can you do in the face of chaos?

Asked and answered, for myself, on two fronts. First, I’m still waiting, because until the world is ready to see itself clearly, I could hold up all the mirrors I find but there will be no reflection. When I hear the first whispers that the notion “The Rule of Law” is a farce and the phrase “A Nation of Laws” is a myth – and has always been – then I’ll just maybe believe society has seen through the confetti parades and swamp gas.

If, by any chance, social pressure is focused on those who have the power to change the Injustice system, then I’ll raise my head. Why? Because all the marching, chanting, letter-writing, hand-holding, singing, and reporting isn’t going to move the needle unless it is focused, not on equal justice, equal protection, and equal application of equalizing laws, but on those not enforcing equality. Try it. Whenever you see a new shocking headline, ask yourself: will the law be applied equally now, or in the near future, as well as could this event have been avoided if the law had been applied in the past?

Secondly, I resolved to expand my role as a guardian. Shouting into a tornado affects no change, therefore, until political will shifts to equal prosecution and equal punishment under the law, my job is to throw my body over those in my care. The spinning cow is only a distraction from the real issues. The hurtling car is just there to drag our attention away from our own, personal safety. Thousands of swirling, stabby, pointy sticks and slicing chards of glass force us to keep our eyes, ears, mouths, noses, and hearts closed, blinding us to the real eye of the storm. Under these circumstances, what can I do?

My answer always comes back to simply “manage the talent.” Because the goal is to exhaust the activism, we must be laser clean with our efforts. Efficiency is our only recourse as we, the individuals, add one more demand on our time and energy – after that one more job we take on to pay the bills, that one more mouth to feed as we take in family or borders, and that one more health problem we let slide until things “get better.”

So, what is it that you, all by yourself, do better than anyone on the planet? And before you poo-poo your ability to exceed billions, know that you are absolutely unique and therefore your talent might just be the one tool that cuts through the swirling debris because what we’ve all learned from the social media swamp and the blasting bad breath of the last decades is that the right message at the right time as the potential to explode and either coerces kids to swallow detergent pods or spark the Arab Spring.

As for me, I write books to explore tough topics, discuss our personal responsibilities, and wrangle our consciences while steeped in everyday dramas, mysteries, and relationships in my cozy mystery/women’s literature series, “The Admiral Inn.” In my urban fantasy, I tend to argue the same question from every angle, “To those whom much is given, what expectations are fair?” And while I layer adventures on top of contemplative themes in my books, I sculpt straight-up protest pieces.

I’m doing, I’m unique, and by managing the talent, I’m more effective and more authentic in my message which, in turn, reaches more people, frames a world worth fighting for, and supports the hearts and minds of the unique talents around me. The photo of a flower from my back yard is simply to soothe the soul.