There are a million million choices we have to make everyday. Some of them are small, like what to wear, or if were going to add that spoonful of sugar to our coffee even though we swore we were cutting down. There are the choices we make about how we react to the people around us, the server that messed up the order- or when your partner forgot to take the laundry out of the washer and now it smells like something small and furry died in a swamp.

Then there are the bigger choices- like what we chose to do in the face of hate, greed, bigotry, and injustice. These are not new things. They have been here all along- killing black men, women, children. Poising the water and taking land and rights from the native people of this country. These are the same things that allow women to be beaten by their husbands with no repercussions, that strip this land and so many others across the seas of their resources as innocents die in the streets. The same things have been terrifying our queer, gay and trans people- stripping from them the basic rights of personhood and labeling it an issue about bathrooms. They have been reshaping the very words we use from "Immigrant" to "Illegal."

But for some of us- the exceptionally lucky ones- have been born in the right place with light skin, the right religion, the right sex, and enough money to build the foundation of a comfortable life. When you are comfortable, and unthreatened- the choice to remain silent is remarkably easy.

The choice to engage means that you are choosing to be uncomfortable, that you are willing to hold up the mirror and recognize the advantages you have had and acknowledge that your privileges have made it easy to ignore those horrendous things happening all around you. It means that you have to choose to be unsafe and show up. It means that you might get that privileged thrown back in your face, that you might be told many times that you are wrong, that you can't understand, that you are still blind.

And you have to choose to nod and agree and learn- and keep showing up.

I am making that choice. And I am using the tools at my disposal to be a part of fight. Art is a mighty weapon, not because it is loud or violent- but because it cuts to the heart. Dictators and fascist regimes throughout history have always been wary of artists, because art cuts through the layers and speaks to the soul- and that is were our best selves are. Art unifies, clarifies, and radicalizes. Art alllows us to break down the barriers we have allowed to be built around our minds and hearts to see unfettered.

They are right to be wary, because we are coming for them.

Do you know that feeling that you get when you are standing on the top of the Big Rock at the lake? The one that looks so much smaller when you aren't right at the edge? Your heart is racing and you know you have this weird smile plastered across your face as you convince yourself that no, you can't possibly turn back around play it off like you just remembered that 'Aunt Marge always said; that every time you jump off a rock a baby chipmunk gets smooshed flat'.

You grit your teeth, clench your fists, and you promptly forget the mechanics of breathing as you plant your feet and push off the tips of your toes to rocket out into the unbearable sunshine. For a moment you feel like you hang there: caught among the sunbeams, and anything-everything is possible.

Starting something new is like that- except with a whole lot more reasons why you shouldn't even go near the edge, let alone leap off into the unknown. Especially starting something that you care about- that you've always secretly hoped you could do as you spent all your time telling your friends, loved ones, and innocent by-passers on public transportation how it was a terrible idea.

As terrified as I am by this step- I still don't feel like I've taken the full leap. I still have my 'My Little Pony' water-wings on and there are loving supportive arms waiting down below to catch me. But it is a step- a first step, and all the more important because it is the first.