Spy on This

 In addition to his sweeping purge of federal officials who work on issues related to diversity, inclusion, and accessibility for people with disabilities—Trump has also expanded his witch hunt outside the reaches of government. One of his executive orders targeting DEIA programs—notoriously—directs officials to identify up to nine non-profit organizations to investigate for diversity- and accessibility-related thought crimes. The weird specificity of this number is especially chilling. Why nine, and not eight or ten? Its arbitrariness is part of the point—because the point is to make a show of arbitrary power. 

It's not clear that any federal agencies have yet opened such investigations (though this dark night of the nation's soul is still young, friends—give it time). But nonprofits were treated to a creepy little surprise this week nonetheless—as the New York Times reports—when an unexpected new sign-up appeared on their email lists. It would seem that an address belonging to the government's internal DEIA monitor—the same account the administration is using to goad government employees into ratting on one another about prohibited DEIA activities—has apparently been enrolled in all of their mailing lists. 

It's unclear so far whether this was a government agency itself signing up for nonprofit newsletters in order to spy on their diversity initiatives—or perhaps a prank by people who wanted to clog up the government's hotline for anti-DEIA informants. Or, alternatively, it could be someone who opposes these liberal groups and wants to report them to the government, but who does not themselves work for any federal agency. Who knows. 

In any case, a lot of people who work for these groups were understandably creeped out. I, however, had a slightly different reaction. I searched in vain for the name of the group I have spent most of my career working for. I didn't see us mentioned. I was incensed. What? I thought. You think we're not pro-diversity and pro-accessibility enough to be worth intimidating? You think we're on board with your fascist takeover of America? Clearly, we haven't made our point loudly enough yet. If you don't think it's worth your time to try to chill our First Amendment rights—we're clearly doing something wrong. 

There's a great Bertolt Brecht poem that comments on a book burning. The author sees the list of the proscribed works that are destined for the flames—and he is appalled to see that his own oeuvre is not included on the list. "Haven't I always told the truth?" he asks—"and here you are, treating me like a liar? Burn me!" This was how I felt, seeing our own organization go unmentioned in the Times article. What—haven't we always told the truth? And here you are—treating us like a compliant little lapdog that's not even worth spying on? Clearly, we haven't done enough DEIA yet to be worth noticing. 

To be sure, I'm not always in that same defiant mood. Seeing how much power Trump has consolidated in such a short period of time—in government, in business, in the media—and how few institutions and alternative centers of power in our society are making any effort to resist him—it can be tempting to despair. And indeed, many seemingly have despaired. Numerous articles have been written over the past weeks about how the anti-Trump resistance movement is "exhausted," "burned out"—or left breathlessly "gasping in outrage," as one recent New York Times article put it. 

But honestly, I'm not exhausted, or despairing, or out of breath. Not even close. I can do this all day long. I'm a lot younger than Trump. I've got a lot more decades left in me. I can do this for as long as Trump wants. You won't see any "fatigue" or "liberal tears" from me. "I have not winced nor cried aloud," as Henley wrote. If Trump wants to keep going on this stuff for another ten years—well, I can keep up the resistance for that long or longer too. So part of me says: bring it on. You want to burn books? Burn me! You want to spy on nonprofits? Spy on this!