Grief is our catalyst.

The new year is a special time. A marker for new beginnings, the perfect time to try new hobbies, reset routines and visualize personal goals for the upcoming year. It is the afterparty of the holiday season, except instead of indulging in substances, “dry January” is the move and the gym has replaced the club. But this year, it has been especially hard to maintain the positive vibes when there is so much noise going on. From increasingly dystopian and harmful policies to the relentless violence against marginalized groups at the hands of ICE and the state, every single day feels like impending doom. 

  Social media no longer feels like a place to see what your friends are up to or catch up on your interests. It has become a space of uncensored news (primary sources) and a cesspool of unwanted marketing. With every scroll, the videos get heavier than the last and I just know there is irreversible damage being done to our brains. It is not normal to watch a “get ready with me” video, graphic footage of ICE raids, and then a local food review, all within the span of a few seconds.

And I know this is by design, they (you know who I am referring to) are betting on us (the people) to be emotionally exhausted from all of this and concede obediently. 

My first read of this year is by political journalist and writer Sarah Jaffe, From the Ashes. It is a brilliant piece of writing that has helped me navigate this feeling of helplessness, and to understand the importance of collective grief. It is essential to ruminate in your feelings and allow yourself to grieve in a world on fire. 

“Grief is a rupture. It makes unthinkable the future that you thought you would have. Rebellion is a rupture too, one where a collection of people come together to say, to demand, to insist that the past future is no longer one they will accept.” 

I loved how Jaffe talked about grief in the book. She explained that under capitalism, grief is actively discouraged because processing it takes time away from productivity. American society is heavily centered around work culture and productivity. The use of PTO is something that is highly frowned upon, despite it being in place for a reason — especially during seasons of loss. When it is treated as an inconvenience rather than a necessity, burnout is inevitable. 

“The ordinary death of a loved one under a capitalist order that routinely forbids sufficient time off to mourn. Workplace injuries, deindustrialization, police violence, pandemic, genocide, social murder, and how we can make sense of loss through struggle.”

Collective and public mourning under capitalism builds community and purpose in organizing. Grief is the catalyst to direct action and change. It is the very reason there are so many people in the streets, shouting from the rooftops (both metaphorically and literally), who are brave enough to be on the frontlines. 

“It is a movement full of pain and humor. Of joy and terror. Of grief and all stages of grieving” 

If you are like me, someone who has been feeling a deep sense of sorrow and helplessness, but most of all, anger, we need to hold onto it. These feelings are the catalysts to change, it drives action behind our disdain for what is happening in our own cities.

           It is equally as important to take the space and time to take care of yourself. Put your phone down, nourish your body with whole foods, pamper yourself, journal your feelings, watch a comfort movie or go see a friend. If you want to take care of your community, you need to take care of yourself first. Joy is political resistance in itself just as much as grief. 

Yesterday, I joined the nationwide strike and turned my anger into action. The walkout was organized on the one year anniversary of President Trump's inauguration on 1/30/26, it was to protest the actions of the Trump administration but more specifically, regarding the rampant, inhumane ICE raids sweeping the nation. There were more than 130 demonstrations across the country and it was inspiring to see how many people had organized their own walkouts in their cities. In the streets of San Francisco, I met so many community members, feeling the same way I did. I listened. I danced. I laughed. I marched. I used my voice. It was incredibly inspiring to see everyone show up. A couple thousand regular people were gathered at Dolores Park because of grief. We were all there because of collective grief yet I witnessed so much joy. The live music that was played. Seeing people of all ages dancing together. The free hot meals and fruits brought to share. It was a #hopecore moment for me. 

photos taken from SF Standard via Instagram

How will you use your grief?