Democracy Was Never Meant to Be a Solo Project

In 2018, a year after starting the Checklist, I wrote this reflection on what I’d learned—and it’s amazingly salient eight years later.

One year ago today, I showed up late for a meeting in a cafe basement.

“Please come,” a friend had written in a text. “It’ll help you feel better.”

My coffee order took forever. I wasn’t sure where the meeting was. I wandered around the coffeehouse, considering sneaking back out to my car and driving home.

Still in a weary, post-election fog, I’d agreed. I had to do something.

When I finally found them downstairs, the gathered group sat around one long table, holding coffee cups like fragile baby birds. My friend’s eyes met mine, and she smiled. I sat down in the last creaky metal chair.

The meeting was loose—part brainstorm, part support group. People wanted to know what they could do that would actually help. Before I realized what I was doing, my hand was in the air. I was offering to vet the petitions going around on Facebook and research which were legit. I was tearing out a sheet of paper to pass around for email addresses. When that sheet came back to me, it was full. Thirty names.

I had something I could do. A project.

I couldn’t have imagined that thirty would turn to 3,000, then 30,000… or double again within four months. Or that I would be invited on radio programs, podcasts, and to live events. I just kept agreeing to do thorough research, to be clear and kind, and to share what I learned. To show up.

And what I’ve learned in the twelve months since comes down to four things:

1. We need each other

If you’ve ever done trust activities, you probably know the one where the group forms a circle, each person turns to face the next one’s back. And then, tight like sardines, everyone all sits down, trusting the lap of the person behind them. Sometime it works. Other times, people end up in a laughing pile on the floor.

In this activity, every body is equal and valuable–Black, female, old, unemployed, immigrant, Native, Republican, lesbian, educated. The only thing that matters is that each person be present, show up, and commit to each other.

In this year, I’ve learned there is no “Them” in a democracy. We may think in terms of Us and Them, but the very nature of democracy makes us a country of Us. U.S. Everywhere we go and everyone we meet is Us. Even the Thems are still us. We can try to escape this reality and alienate each other, but the truth is undeniable: we’re all in this messy, democratic experiment together.

When we show up and commit to one another, incredible things happen. Sometimes there’s giggling. And do-overs. Sometimes there’s real support. Like lawyers and protesters at the airport for the Muslim ban. Like hundreds of thousands of people marching together and healing. Like avalanches of calls, postcards, and faxes that advocate for healthcare again and again—not just for ourselves, but for every American.

Is it perfect? Of course not. Do we still alienate each other? Sadly, yes. But the Constitution’s framers didn’t seek a perfect union, but a more perfect one. Even a little more perfect is progress. We need each other to get there.

2. We need focus.

On the outside, it might seem like my list is competing with others like 5 Calls, Rogan’s List, Chop Wood Carry Water. But the amazing people behind them are my allies and buddies. We honor each other’s differences, share resources, and encourage as we work our tails off.

Just yesterday, I noticed with horror that a legislative issue flew by completely unnoticed. It passed in the House and Senate without a peep from any of us in the resistance. After we all gaped in astonishment, one of my buddies said, “It’s all coming at us so fast.”

And she’s right.

Just for comparison’s sake, the Washington Post has a journalist assigned to each presidential cabinet member. And here we are (me included), trying to stay on top of everydangthing the president, cabinet, and Congress are doing.

Like a frog in a warming pot, I had no idea what I was getting into a year ago. You probably didn’t realize it either.

Every now and then I meet a genuine Energizer bunny who *swears* she’s not tired and has plenty of energy to keep resisting. The rest of us, however—including those at the front of the flock—are flapping in high winds. We can’t keep up.

One response to this onslaught, of course, is to nose dive into frustration and despair. Another would be to pretend it’s all good, under control, not to worry (flap flap!!) with predictable health consequences.

Or. We can have an honest chat with ourselves about our abilities and limits. What can you handle for the long haul. I’ve thought long and hard about this for Americans of Conscience. We can cover three issues well–democracy, immigration, and equality–but that’s the limit. That is the carrying capacity. 

The sign of maturing activism is to choose, even if that means excluding other issues. That’s not failure. Just look at groups that have a very narrow focus: like NAACP, which has been advocating for equality for 108 years. NOW’s got 51 years of grassroots feminist activism. The National LGBTQ Task Force is 44. And the grandmama of them all is the Sierra Club at 125 years old. We can see that their narrow focus has gotten long-term results.

3. We need to celebrate.

Another learning from this year is about how important it is to pause and take stock of our accomplishments, no matter how small. Being outraged and angry can be energizing. Showing up when you’re tired is noble. And. We need joy too. We need to see each other’s smiling faces and spend some moments counting all the positives. For expressing gratitude for our own and others’ courage. For praise. For dancing, laughter, and fun.

Marisela, my dear friend from Colombia—a country that has known trouble—said to me recently, “Jen, you have to do what you can, and then you must live your life. Have a wine! Dance some salsa!” I spent a moment feeling scandalized at the thought and then realized, she’s right.

“No es solo tu trabajo. Es el responsibilidad de muchos.”

She made me laugh and remember that it’s a very American trait to take on the weight of the world. It isn’t my job alone to do this work. It isn’t yours either. As Marisela said, it is the responsibility of many.

And the relief of this takes us back to our first insight—that we’re in this together. If I do my part, and you do yours, and others do theirs, we will get somewhere good together.

4. We need to rest.

The last insight from this year is about how vital it is to stop. Stop the news, turn off the constant stream of information and get quiet, alone or in company. Allow ourselves to sleep in and not give two hoots about what the president thinks for a few hours. Rest isn’t just for the body, but the mind and spirit also. For that reason, I will get out in the woods this week to listen to the rain and admire last few yellow leaves. 

If you want to experience all of these–community, focus, celebration, and rest, consider joining me and Omkari Williams, author of Micro Activism, for a special two-part class. Ritual, Creativity, and Commitment starts on Thursday, February 19, 2026.

In short

I never imagined where that coffee meeting would take me, but I’m so glad I showed up. I’m glad YOU showed up. I’m honored and grateful to be a part of your activism journey. It means so much to be working alongside you toward a healthier democracy that respects all people. 

So. What do you say we get like sardines and keep working to support each other and our collective future?