What to do

The question always shows up eventually: “What do we do?”

It’s actually quite obvious—but denial is easier. Every tradition worth a damn gives the same answer. Christianity: take the plank out of your own eye. Islam: a people’s condition won’t change until they change what’s within. Judaism: start with the self. Hinduism and Buddhism: no right action without self-awareness. These aren’t spiritual soundbites. They’re structural integrity checks.

Mandela got it. He called out both the enemy and his own. Truth didn’t stop at his side of the line. That’s rare. Especially now.

Trump and Biden built power by dodging truth entirely. They don’t lead—they posture, spin, and punish honesty. Their entourages run on denial. Their legacy is erosion.

And most people mirror it. We scream when the other side lies, then go quiet when our own side does the same. We rationalize. We rename it. We call it strategy. But it’s just fear in better clothes.

Contradiction is human. Denial is rot. What fractures true nationhood isn’t opposition—it’s the cowardice to call out hypocrisy when it wears your team’s jersey. And when someone finally does call it out—when the truth hits a nerve—the instinct is fight or flight. Get pissed off, shut down, defend—that’s fine. But that moment right there? That’s the crack where something real can enter, if you let it change you for real, not for show.

Don't laugh cynically: Find a Republican whose trust you think you can earn. Or a Democrat if that’s the mirror you avoid. Talk. Get uncomfortable. Learn how to fight without flinching, how to disagree without walking away. Change. Come back. Do it again. It’s fucking hard.

Give them the 🖕🏾 if they’ve earned it.

But give them the ❤️ too.

Because anything less is just more noise. As my friend Chauncey the gardener says “Nip it in the bud.”