Lovers in A Dangerous Time

“The Embrace” is one of those celebrations of light in America’s long struggle with slavery and for civil rights, Black Lives Matter, women’s rights and suffrage, LGBTQ rights and now, again, the struggle to define just who is — or can ever be — an American.

The country I’m proud to be from is the land of American ingenuity and ‘know-how’ where you can build and create anything from Ford Model T’s to Saturn rockets and the internet. Where so much has been produced and thrown away that, just from the fragments alone, one can create a true scrapyard hotrod that might even have some original Model T DNA.

If you love to shop, you can find absolutely anything and everything. Like heading out to an antiques shop for the perfect knickknack, only to return home with the front end and cockpit of a Douglas C-47 Dakota cargo plane.

This land is one of hopes and dreams, where some achieve unparalleled wealth and power. There's a saying, “to pull yourself up by your bootstraps,” meaning to improve your situation through your own efforts alone. This is the myth of the self-made man, who claims to have reached his glass tower without public investments in schools, healthcare, college loans, or infrastructure. 

This is also a land marked by stagnating industry and factories abandoned due to the effects of the global economy and technology-driven job redundancies. As a result, many blue-collar workers feel left behind and forgotten.

But now, Daddy’s Home to save the day. Trump’s back, bigger and badder than ever. And this time, he’s not about to let petty things like laws or the Constitution get in his way. My homeland is in crisis and because of this, I too am in crisis. I feel like there is a civil war in my own heart, both wanting to believe and hold onto the ideal of America, even if it was partly a facade, and yet feeling betrayed at how we, as a nation, allowed this: a darkness back into the White House.

For too many people, each day is a never-ending uphill struggle or a downward slide. The answers to the complex issues of job losses from globalization and technological advances are often difficult to grasp, leading many to seek out the easy answers and grievance-affirming rhetoric offered by figures like Trump. Trump tells his supporters that their problems are not due to years of bad policy and neglected investments, but rather can be blamed on those other people who look, sound, love, or worship differently than they do.

These last few years I’ve been struck by the sheer number of flags. It is as if, as a people, we’ve developed a collective amnesia about what country we live in, and need reminding every half mile or so. It seems with every visit, this trend has accelerated. So the flags fly, not just on flag days but every day, and not just in schools, post offices and city halls, but also at shopping centers, office buildings, car dealerships, business complexes, private homes and even on people’s cars.

It used to be that flying the flag did not have to be an overt political statement, but those days seem to be behind us. Now I see the flag increasingly serving as a symbol of division and segregation. This grand old colonial style home marked with the sign indicating it dates back to pre-Revolutionary War 1714, now displays, on its front side, politically charged banners referencing presidential campaigns and, just to make the message clear, a “Veterans for Trump” sign in the window, along with another flag by the entrance.

This home was displaying the flag upside-down. I have to admit I originally thought this was another MAGA symbol, but later learned it is a traditional signal of dire distress in instances of extreme danger to life or property. This has been used by both the right and the left.

This is the first time I encountered the Thin Blue Line flag. Originating with the British army in the Crimean war as the thin red line and later adopted by the US Army in the early 1900’s and later on by law enforcement to represent the line between order and chaos, its symbolism started taking on a darker meaning as a rebuke to the Black Lives Matter movement with its association with Blue Lives Matter that morphed into White Lives Matter. Examples of both of the flags in this image were flying over the mob of Trump supporters who attacked the Capitol on January 6 2021.

I came across Mr. Pink, from the Mr. Pink balloon sculpture series by French artist Philippe Katerine. Although not intended to represent him, just like Trump, they seem to be omnipresent—floating above streets, perched on buildings, hiding in trees, and peeking around corners.

If sheer repetition is enough to sway public opinion, then we have to give Trump credit for filling the space … all of it. From Trump hotels and resorts cropping up in locations as diverse as Qatar and Belgrade to his audacious rebranding of the Gulf of Mexico and claimed intentions to annex Canada or invade Greenland, his exposure and influence are undeniable. Even more troubling is his relentless and destructive “reverse Midas touch,” which can undo decades of hard work, investment, and expertise in governing in only a few months. This all-encompassing influence is experienced by everyone, everywhere, and it powerfully embodies his image.

Popping into a diner with my Dad for an excellent breakfast of eggs Benedict, I was struck by the vibrant energy of folks coming and going, and I appreciated the clever little signs of street-smart wit displayed on the counter and wall behind the cashier. However, I couldn't shake a profound sense of sadness. I was surrounded by individuals who, regardless of their political stripes, could soon suffer the consequences of reduced healthcare and social services, rising prices and possible job losses from the tariff wars. How will they handle the increased risks stemming from weakened protections for the climate, clean water, food safety, and consumer rights?

As much as I tried to prepare myself for this trip, my first reactions on being back were feelings of loneliness, helplessness and inner conflict.

It was as if I was only seeing through that lens of isolation. Looking, searching and finding only images to confirm my alienation.

I captured these images of a couple enjoying each other's company on the rocky coast, all while Bruce Cockburn’s song “Lovers in a Dangerous Time” played in my head: “When you’re lovers in a dangerous time / Sometimes you’re made to feel as if your love’s a crime / But nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight / Got to kick at the darkness till it bleeds daylight”

There are those folks we are fortunate to have in our lives that absolutely embody the virtues of mercy, justice, kindness, and service. My sister, Jen, is all of that. As I walked with Jen, and her dog Zeva, she shared how utterly disappointed, lonely and conflicted she felt.

So, I figured it was time to get out more! I was hanging out with Tom, a builder who has an innate sense of right and wrong and a remarkable talent for cutting through nonsense—basically, a human Bullshit detector. He was especially proud of his street address, 109, which pays tribute to JFK and his famous PT boat from World War II. His pain and frustration were palpable. He alternated between wanting to hear a plan to take back the country and make sure nothing this ridiculous ever happens again or just packing up and moving to a cabin he owns in the remote wilderness of northern Maine.

I then met Jack and Steve, two blue-collar guys who hadn’t bought into the MAGA line of grievance and cynicism. They jokingly asked me what the world thinks of America now. Feeling woefully unqualified to speak for the entire world, I could only assure them that my small corner shares their surprise and anguish.

I recently came across the idea that in order to effectively oppose Trump, we need to think like lions. Before going out to hunt, lions groom one another, strengthening their bonds within their pride—that’s the English word for a herd or group of lions, a collective noun like school of fish. Similarly, we must come together to reinforce our connections and remember that we are not resisting alone. So in that spirit, Jen and I decided to attend one of the protests in Boston, nurturing our own “pride”.

The wonderful thing about protests isn’t just the opportunity to change the world or a particular situation—though that’s certainly a part of it—but also the solidarity they foster. It is the affirmation that you are not alone, that there is real strength in unity and numbers. Like lions, we too have a pride to be proud of.

Signing up to be heard was so empowering. Realizing together we are a force to be counted. This protest took place in March, relatively early in the mobilization against Trump and was part of the No Kings and the 50501: 50 Cities, 50 States, One Nation series of demonstrations.

Even the introverts felt they had to be there.

Something Scandinavians can understand.

Surrounded by so many like-minded individuals, sharing information, expressing their views and stories with sharp wit and humor, along with plain-spoken anger all conveyed with expressive costumes or crudely written on rough cardboard signs or creatively painted posters. The energy was contagious, my sadness and isolation lifted, transformed into excitement. I became part of something much larger than myself. This was like political church.

It has always troubled me how the Christian Right has monopolized the religious narrative to the extent that many people assume all of America’s Christians support this administration. This is both misleading and inaccurate. While the Christian Right may shout the loudest, their version of Christianity is deeply intertwined with and contaminated by nationalism, racism, and xenophobia. I do not believe they reflect the beliefs of the majority of American Christians.

Indeed recent polls by the Pew Research Center from 28 April 2025 found overall Christian support for Trump at only 48%. His highest support was with white evangelicals at 72%. The picture changes drastically with black protestants with 85% disapproval. The tide is turning and at least in liberal New England I found it encouraging to see churches openly sharing a more inclusive message, a witness, for all to see.

As my time in Boston came to an end, I felt disheartened by the changes, the general atmosphere of looming oppression, and the challenges that lie ahead for America. Nevertheless, I was encouraged and impressed by the efforts to organize and the growing sense of community spirit, also in the people who inspired the trip in the first place, my dad and his partner Anna. Here she is holding a Kamala Harris campaign poster while Dad displays a hefty solid brass sign suggesting an escape from the mess, embodying the hope, perseverance, and humor that also is America.