I have a dark joke that plays on loop in my head, like two lines of an earworm when you’re trying to fall asleep. It goes like this: “I have all these things to do, AND I have to fight fascism?” It pops into my head when I’m folding laundry or doing the dishes, or when I’m waiting to pick up my kids from school, or when my beloved angels yell at me for helping them with their homework wrong or complain about the dinner that I’ve made. It takes a brighter shine when I’m calling my representative (progressive but not enough so), my senators (toadstools in the shadow of the tree of liberty), and my governor (amoral reptilian bootlicker of tech billionaires).

The message that I – comfortable white middle-aged cishet Marine Corps combat vet – give to the young try-hards answering phones for politicians doesn’t vary much: I tell them “abolish ICE” is not only the morally correct stance but also a winning strategy; that I want impeachment efforts NOW, not later; that I need the criminals of this administration tried and jailed for their treason, murder, corruption, and hate crimes; and that any Democrat who thinks I care about affordability while agents of the state kidnap babies and murder people on video in cold blood will never get my vote. I have a calm tone when I say it. I try to give “concerned citizen” vibes.

It’s not enough, I know. None of it is a fraction of what Minnesotans have done for the last eight weeks in the face of an armed occupation dedicated to terrorizing their communities. The bravery and righteous fervor of regular people who simply care for their neighbors is galvanizing; it gives me faith that this dark time in American history – our grim and terrible present – is not forever. It will come to an end, and I will live to see it.

While I was writing that paragraph, ICE murdered another citizen in the streets of Minneapolis. I still believe in the finite nature of this administration’s oppression. The more violence they inflict upon us, the sooner their reign will crumble.

Before that happened, all I wanted to do this morning was tell everyone living in this great dark shadow that I love them. Mexicans, Venezuelans, Somalis, Haitians, Hmong: you are my neighbors. Everyone who sought America as a refuge from terror or a chance at a better life, legally or not – what is the law, anyway, anymore? – is worthy of safety and opportunity in America. I cannot erase the current of hatred that flows in this country; it is as long and muddy and powerful as the Mississippi. But I can be a voice that says I love you. I love you, my neighbor, you belong here. I will stand up for you, I will harbor you, and when the time comes I will step in front of the assault rifle aimed at you. My voice is a chorus, and we’ll call the cowards at the trigger what they are, Fascist, until they finally scurry from power and run from repercussions. We’ll brand them in history and harry them for the rest of their lives. They are the ones who aren’t welcome here.