Writing Is Revolutionary

Our words are more important than ever

I am in shock to not be in shock. I expected Trump’s election to hurt and scare me more than it has, but past events have numbed, not just 2016 or January 6. I was born in the Philippines, where our current president is a dictator’s son and his predecessor murdered thousands of his own countrymen. I can’t seem to shout, and am instead finding solace in writing not about the world as it exists when I wrote op-eds, but the world as I want it to be while I write fiction.

There are days when I wonder if that’s enough, whether I’m shirking my duty to spend more time shouting, here and now.

But I remind myself that writing and activism go hand-in-hand, and that anti-authoritarian movements don’t just require loud voices, but substantial ideas rendered movingly. The Philippines’ own revolutionary movement against Spain and the U.S. were inspired by a pair of novels by José Rizal, Noli Me Tangere and El Filibusterismo, which were so influential that Rizal is our country’s national hero.

Being both trans and a first-generation immigrant, I’m aware that Trump has won by turning me and those like me into scapegoats, preying on unfounded fears of many Americans who barely know let alone understand us. We will be known and understood. This administration intends to silence us but we won’t be silent, even those of us who don’t shout.

Writing is not quiet. Writing is vibrant, compelling, defiant, eloquent, elusive, persuasive, gorgeous. Writing is revolutionary.

So if you want to write more than march, unfurl sentences on paper instead of banners on the street, you can and must. Your words will ring just as loud; they will be heard across time.

With love,
Meredith

P.S. I’m reading in Boston with a bunch of trans folks this Thursday; maybe see you there if you’re a local and please say hi! More info below or at t4treadings.com