Holding onto Hope-ish (with a Little Help from my Friends)

It’s Pride month, San Diego! Well, last month was officially Pride Month, but for some reason San Diego celebrates in July, so the Troub tapped everyone’s favorite (or least favorite, depending on where you stand geo-politically) loud-mouth lesbian songwriter to say a few words on the subject. Clears throat.

We are tired. Article over. Jkjkjkjk.

Most of my queer artist friends are zonked from waking up each day to a fresh wave of headlines announcing new attacks on their right to exist freely, which, in many cases, compounds with the latest attacks on Black and Brown folks, migrants, poor folks, and whoever else this country’s legislators and their corporate/PAC daddies have deemed too “other” to be free. All this to contend with, while also fighting similar hurtful battles within our own families and communities, while also trying to scrape together enough money to keep food on the table within an economic system that resembles a snake eating its own tail. Just a bunch of hurtful, hurting humans, spinning around a giant ball of gas on a tiny, increasingly hot rock that keeps threatening to call the whole thing off if we all don’t stop epically failing this open-note test.

Being awake is a lot these days.

Yet, I always have hope-ish. Last month, we saw millions of people take to the streets for the No Kings march, hitting the streets to blow off six months of pent-up steam from an onslaught of executive branch B.S. that so far includes: weaponizing members of the U.S. military against its own citizens, dog-whistling DEI initiatives as the new (nonexistent) reverse racism, greenlighting a flurry of ICE abductions, playing fast and loose with market manipulation, continuing to support a genocidal regime, gutting crucial federal jobs/funding/programs, rolling out the red carpet for data hackers, and excluding Trans people from society for no effin’ reason other than throwing a bigot-bone at the insatiably hateful MAGA crowd. You name the shit, they’ve got the show. San Diego marched their booties off, boasting an estimated 60-100k demonstrators by various accounts. I was there with my little queer family. Around us I observed a spectrum of LGBTQ+ Pride flags, signs, and shirts peppered in with all kinds of other flags, signs, and shirts whose messages inspire a world for the keeping. “My Body, My Choice.” “None of Us Are Free Until All of Us Are Free.” And my personal favorite: “You Aren’t from Here Either, Bitch.” When compared to the squeaky tanks and lackluster turnout for Trump’s masturbatory parade, the No Kings numbers speak for themselves and clearly show that an encouraging amount of regular shmegular people are Twisted Sistering their distaste for dictatorships.

Key word: show.

Now that the theater of it all has concluded, now that all the signs have made their way to some landfill somewhere, now that all the Instagram stories have expired, now that the news is onto the next lie Karoline Leavitt will tell with her signature supremacist snark, my next question for all the fed up people is: what else ya got?

Because the simple truth is, we can’t and shouldn’t pin all our woes on Trump, or on the last six months, or on Republicans alone. The liberal practice of shelving our civic engagement during a Democratic administration is one of the biggest reasons marginalized folks don’t trust “allies” to stand in solidarity with them when shit gets real. Trashing the GOP without also reserving a heaping helping of questions for the dilly-dallying Dems who have laid the quiet yet deceptive groundwork for the increasingly brazen antics we are experiencing now is an incomplete critique that will get us absolutely nowhere if we truly want to repair what is broken about this country. (If you need a Pride-themed example, here’s Harris on the campaign trail throwing Trans people under the bus for votes with a word salad response to a question about gender-affirming healthcare that should have just been a simple and resounding “yes.”)

It shouldn’t stop at holding these dang donkeys to account, either. We need to scrutinize all the institutions to which we belong or patronize, especially those who benefit in some way from our time, energy, attention, or money. The more curiosity and conversation, the better! Not in the name of perfection, but in the spirit of coming together to reduce harm and build a world that works for everyone.

The bad news is, it’s gonna take a lot more than marching to get the real shit done. It’s going to take more than protests, posters, or parades to keep our community members safe. Resisting centuries-deep systems of oppression can be hard, uncomfortable, isolating, exhausting, infuriating work. You will look for and find plenty of ways to avoid or escape it. That’s privilege for ya.

Angel Rene Wilson

Kai Simovich of Topeka Clementine

Lauren Ong

Flamy Grant. Photo by Ash Perlberg.

Rhythm Turner of DJ Rhythmx

Nubella Honey

Rachel Hall of Mariela

The good news is, when the headlines get too overwhelming, when your representative’s voice mailbox is too full to leave a message, when you can’t seem to find a grocery store that doesn’t do evil things with your money, and when the whole world feels dizzyingly out of control, you can always, always, always redirect your focus back to the one person whose beliefs, thoughts, words, and actions you actually can influence: yourself. And just ask: What can I offer someone in my community today who is vulnerable to harm in ways I am not?

In that small reflection and the simple acts of compassion and care that follow, the “work” becomes less about dismantling broken shit and more about dreaming up beautiful, creative, fun ways of being together. That’s the joy piece that must coexist with all the struggle. If we’ve learned anything at all from our LGBTQ+ ancestors, you simply can’t have Pride without the joy piece, dahhhling.

Speaking of joy, I asked some of my absolute favorite musicians in (or with ties to) our local LGBTQ+ community to share their thoughts on community-building, allyship, protection, safety, etc. Please enjoy their beautiful insights on what it takes to keep each other safe in the current climate. Don’t forget to support their incredible work as well!

Angel René
“To keep each other safe in 2025, we need more than protection—we need belonging. As a Black gay man, I don’t always feel unsafe, but I have often felt out of place, even in queer spaces. Real community means making room for all of our complexities, especially for those of us who are still trying to find where we fit.”

Kai Simovich of Topeka Clementine
“It looks the same as it always has. It looks like reminding your friends to drink water, telling them to text you when they get home safe. It looks like making meals for people and being ready to hold a stranger as close as you would a sibling.”

Lauren Ong
“Community is driven by desire for love, freedom, and safety. Extending what you wish to have to others first creates that safe space—by showing others that you are one that can be trusted, the right people in turn will show you that they can be trusted too. Safety is built brick by brick and moment by moment!”

Flamy Grant
“Having recently traveled overseas to play a showcase with some fellow musicians of multiple backgrounds, we spent a lot of time sharing experiences and information about how to handle border security. Staying informed and sharing our experiences has always been critical to staying safe as queer people, and we need each other now just as much as we always have. Chosen family is more than a surrogate or substitute. It’s the essential way we navigate the world, from making sure we don’t experience harm (or even disappear) without someone noticing to having reasons to remain hopeful and joyful as we continue to resist the structures that work to eradicate us.”

Rhythm Turner of DJ Rhythmx
“We need more than just allies, we need accomplices. People who won’t just stand behind us but stand beside us—people who are ready to listen to us, support our endeavors, and to be courageous with compassion.”

Nubella Honey
“To me, community means care, support, inclusion, diversity, and accountability. Progress happens when we care and support each other when we take accountability for our actions, and when we support diversity in our community.”

Rachel Hall of Mariela
“The first thing we can do is make time for each other. Make sure we are prioritizing getting together face to face to sit in the sorrow and the weight of the current moment and shoulder the burden together. Fascist rhetoric aims to dehumanize the outgroup in the eyes of the in group, but it also has the byproduct of making us question our own humanity and we need to remind each other that we are deeply human, valuable, and our existence is a great benefit to society.”