Each Thursday, join a growing movement of neighbors taking to the streets with signs, solidarity and a shared commitment to protecting democracy—one corner at a time.

Having spent months before the 2024 election phone banking for Kamala Harris (she lost) and organizing for passage of Proposal 1, New York State’s broadly inclusive Equal Rights Amendment (it passed), I had a strong sense that Trump was going to win the election. I was terrified and extremely frustrated by my ability to see what was coming our way (Project 2025 let us all know the MAGA plan of destruction) and my in-ability to stop it.

Then, three weeks before the election, I bolted out of bed, awakened by the terrifying realization that I was living in the kind of historic moment that would have signaled to my Jewish ancestors in Poland and Russia that it would be a good time to get out.

But, I stayed. And between Election Day and the inauguration I, like so many others, could barely feel anything at all—except maybe an immobilizing sense of dread.  

As an attorney, the founder of Pregnancy Justice and its former executive director and often lead litigator, I know how to bring lawsuits and take action. But what action could I now take in the face of what would be a monumental assault on every imperfect and incomplete institution of our constitutional democracy? Hadn’t I spent my career knocking at our democracy’s door? Weren’t my years of work on behalf of pregnant women about fighting to ensure that everyone—including the people who could get pregnant—were protected by due process of law and afforded our Constitution’s explicit guarantees of liberty and equality?

Now the whole she-bang was under direct assault from a president trained by manipulative, conniving McCarthy-ite Roy Cohen. All of our less-than-perfect but still vital institutions were about to be dismantled by people committed to MAGA’s upside-down worldview.

In that entirely gaslit world, denying people civil liberties and human rights is called fighting anti-Semitism. Actively promoting racism, sexism, and all the hateful phobias applied to immigrants, as well as LGB and especially T folks, is called a corrective to some concocted assault on American values by the same educational institutions that churned out such MAGA mavens as Pete Hegseth, Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., and Rep. Elise M. Stefanik (R-N.Y.).

With my heart breaking and my body in a constant metaphorical crouch waiting for the next MAGA anvil to fall, I am so grateful that these words came my way: “Do not despair. If you are alive at this moment, it is because you have a purpose.”

Equally important was the desperately needed reminder, “No one can do everything, but everyone can do something. Focus on what you can do.” These were the words Rabbi Sharon Kleinbaum used when she invited me to part of a leadership team that would take action intended to counter the soul-sucking dehumanizing cruelty (my words, not hers) that was about to befall our country. This was the beginning of a new project we decided to call The Beacon.

Inspired by the anti-racism organization Tag Meir in Israel, the work of The Beacon builds on the insights of people who have studied how authoritarianism rises and how everyday people can stop it.

Here are the three things they tell us we must do.

1. Show Up in Public

Get people out of their homes and onto the streets to make their resistance visible. We know that nonviolent protests that engage just 3.5 percent of the population have never failed to bring about change.

2. Build Local Connections

Strengthen ties with neighbors, local leaders and institutions. Real change requires people who are not frozen by fear, or shut down in isolation.

3. Practice Joy as an Act of Resistance

In other words, refuse despair, make music, celebrate who we are and fabulously fight fascism.

Take to the Streets Each Thursday

Each Thursday evening, I now get to carry out this advice, as part of The Beacon’s weekly Thursday “Shine the Light” action. It is simple and easy to do. We ask people to make a sign that expresses what they stand for and whatever compels them to oppose the bullies and billionaires now running our country. We take our signs (with at least one other person) and hold them up at a street corner, subway or bus stop, or park in our own neighborhoods. Like the 7 p.m. pot banging during the COVID-19 shutdown to support healthcare workers, this is a shared ritual. It holds space for public expressions of outrage and solidarity. And when people see others take a stand, they are inspired to join.

These weekly actions are an entry point and complement to working with and participating in other demonstrations. It also builds valuable relationships so that those of us who can go to the big demonstrations can go together, staying connected in the crowd with the help of The Beacon flame I made.

I have been “Shining the Light” each Thursday at a space named after Ruth Wittenberg, a preservationist who began her life of activism working for women’s suffrage.

I know that participating in this regular weekly action won’t instantly reverse the MAGA Supreme Court justices’ decision to overturn Roe v. Wade. It won’t immediately stop the abductions of immigrants or the regime’s brazen disregard for the rule of law.

But it does counter the isolation and despair that the ruling regime is counting on and it does provide the social proof that the people who value freedom and democracy over fascism will take to the streets in ever bigger numbers until we win.

I hope that you will join me and become a beacon of light for compassion and justice wherever you are! It’s easy and it’s effective.

Every Monday, The Beacon hosts a 12 p.m. ET Zoom meeting open to all who want to welcome the stranger, love our neighbor, pursue justice and take action. Get our Monday 12 p.m. ET Zoom link here.

To learn more, please go to this link—and remember everyone can do something.