Not all heroes wear capes. Sometimes they wear Primus t-shirts.

This morning my newsfeed was filled with videos of a woman in a yellow jacket and concert tee being escorted by police from a Trump rally in my birthplace of Syracuse, NY. As she moves through the sneering, jeering, glassy-eyed mob raining boos down on her, she walks proudly, makes a strident double middle finger salute, meeting their derision with defiance.

It was glorious, cathartic, and it reminded me that we’re going to make it through this nightmare—if we remember who we are.

“Why won’t someone do something?!”

That’s the question we ask when we look at the world around us, when we see how much suffering and injustice there is, when we inventory the brokenness in our path. We wonder why someone isn’t taking up that cause, or fighting for those people, or doing that urgent work, or standing up to that corrupt power.

And when we wonder when someone is going to do something, we usually expect that someone to be somebody else; someone with more experience, someone younger, someone more talented, someone more charismatic or socially connected, someone more popular. We discount our abilities, minimize what we’re capable of, forget the impact our lives have—or maybe we’re trying to sidestep discomfort, but the result is that we deny our own humanity by forgetting who we are.

But if we step back from lamenting that someone needs to do something and remember that we are someone —that we’re here, that we’re alive, that we can be the kind of person the world needs—that might change the way we move through the present turbulence. It might make us feel differently about the darkness around us that seems to be winning.

People often ask me how we can stay hopeful right now, and the way we do that is by staying human in the space of our agency, by deciding over and over again who we will choose to be. We stay hopeful by making decisions that center compassion, that override selfishness, that show courage, that reflect whoever it is we aspire to be. We ask ourselves what kind of person the world needs right now, and do our best to be that kind of person by showing up, speaking, creating.

Some of us understand that we have gifts and talents and resources; we know that we’re someone, but attach caveats and conditions and qualifiers to the realization: I am someone, but I am not going to be that someone.

So we think to ourselves, someone needs to be in the streets protesting ICE… but I am not going to be that someone.
Someone needs to stand up in a school board meeting and make sure books stay in libraries… but I am not going to be that someone.
Someone needs to be running for office… but I am not going to be that someone.
Someone needs to challenge my wacky neighbor on his anti-immigrant tirades… but I am not going to be that someone.
Someone needs to start a support group for queer teens… but I am not going to be that someone.

But what if you are that someone?
What if you stop waiting for anybody else to show up?
What if every single one of us fully embraced our someone-ness?
We might just transform our neighborhoods, our towns, our state, and our nation.

These days are made for courageous, loving, generous someones like us.

The next time you find yourself thinking, “Why won’t someone do something?” remind yourself that you’re someone.

When you see a family broken down on the side of the road and you think, “I hope someone stops to help them.” Remember you are someone.

When you’re in your school hallways or your workplace, and another human is being bullied or excluded or dehumanized and you think, “someone should stand with them,” remember you are someone.

When you read a friend’s homophobic social media rant and think, “I wish someone would set them straight.” Remember that you’re someone.

When you think about the poor in our community and think, “I wish someone would help make sure they have food and shelter.” Remember that you’re someone.

As you move through your day and into tomorrow and the rest of your life, let your moral values, ethical principles, and religious convictions make themselves known in whatever way you feel moved to.

This week we really needed someone to enter the rally for a monstrous president and call him a rapist to his face, someone to invade the space of the mindless rabble still worshipping him, someone to stand as our defiant middle-finger-flying proxy.

Thank God a woman in a Primus t-shirt and yellow jacket remembered that she’s someone.

But we need more someones than her.

We need someone to ensure that our schools are safe for LGBTQ children.
We need someone to make assault weapons less available in our streets.
We need someone to secure our elections and ensure everyone has a vote and a voice.
We need someone to legislate protections for the planet and the poor and the marginalized.
We need someone to dismantle the systemic racism still afflicting our nation.
We need someone to loudly push back against anti-immigrant bigotry when it shows up in our neighborhoods, newsfeeds, and holiday gatherings.

Right now America needs someone strong…
It needs someone kind.
It needs someone compassionate.
It needs someone courageous.
It needs someone fiercely loving.
America needs someone to drive back this fascist, pseudo-Christian MAGA pestilence and save this nation.

And here’s the great news: we are someone.

Your move…