The ophthalmologist said he was going to touch my eyeball, then tilted my exam chair back in the darkness. I felt my body brace as movie torture scenes flashed through my mind. I noticed that I wasn’t breathing, so I practiced inhaling through my nose, and exhaling as steadily as I could for the rest of the exam.
Noticing our bodies and breathing intentionally may sound simple, but they are two of the practices that can keep us grounded when we are navigating scary or upsetting situations. As we approach a midterm election marred by threats of violence, I am practicing these skills as often as possible, not to suppress my feelings, but to be aware of how they are affecting me, so I can make conscious choices.
The forces of authoritarianism want us to feel knocked off center by the many ways they are trying to keep people from voting. Trump administration officials continue to suggest that ICE, FBI or other federal agents could be sent to polling places. It’s important that election volunteers and voters stay grounded to avoid playing into their hands. One danger is that fearful voters will just stay home, whether or not the administration carries out their threats. Another danger is that we resist any government interference in ways that increase the chaos, which Trump would use to bolster his narrative that the left is the real threat.
Many national and local groups are hosting trainings to prepare people to protect our vote calmly and nonviolently. A widely used tool is the “Election Defense Scenarios” guide, which sketches out 18 possible threats and what people can do about them. Author Daniel Hunter writes, “One of the clearest lessons from every scenario in this guide — and from democratic movements around the world — is this: Illegal and unjust orders only work if people comply with them.” He notes that a more subtle theme of the guide is handling fear. For example, those volunteering at the polls should make sure we do not become “vectors of fear” by spreading unfounded rumors.
I learned the danger of rumors in 2020. Weeks before the presidential election, my friend Ingrid Lakey heard that the neo-fascist Proud Boys were coming to a park near her home in Philadelphia. Despite growing up as George Lakey’s daughter, and years of training for nonviolent direct action with Earth Quaker Action Team, or EQAT, Ingrid did not feel prepared to de-escalate armed militants if they wanted to stir up trouble. Neither did I, though given the times, we both wanted to increase our ability to handle scary situations. With two other friends from EQAT, we decided to show up, not to intervene, but to see what we could learn.
We met early for a few minutes of silent Quaker worship and named our intention to observe what happened, including inside ourselves. We walked to the park early and watched hundreds of people arrive, none wearing MAGA hats. When the crowd’s energy became frenzied, we asked people nearby what was happening and were told there was a Proud Boy with a bat. Later we heard it was a hockey stick, or maybe a gun.
The four EQAT members helped each other to assess what was actually happening rather than get caught up in the fearful energy. In the end, the Proud Boys never actually showed up, but the rumor of their presence led a small crowd to chase a man into his car. Within a few days, a video of his window being smashed got millions of views on conservative social media.
If a similar video emerges this election season, there is no doubt that Trump and the media that support him would use it to claim that leftists are the true threat to the vote, distracting from his many efforts to stop people from voting. Even if armed agents do show up near polling places, managing our fear will help us choose responses that will aid us both in court and in the court of public opinion.
If Election Day turns out to be relatively uneventful — if our fear was the point, and the armed men never show — preparing ourselves for the worst-case scenarios will build nonviolence skills and relationships between organizations. Both will be important in the work ahead, no matter who wins the midterms.
The good news is that many more Americans have learned the value of nonviolent discipline in recent years. Even before people were moved by the successful nonviolent resistance in Minnesota in January, Trump’s second term motivated newly activated people to undergo training in both resistance strategies and de-escalation tactics to help large marches stay grounded and on message.
EQAT has played a role in the Philadelphia area serving as peacekeepers (also known as marshals or a safety team, depending on the group) and training more people to take that role. Knowing that “stay calm” is the first step in any situation, our trainings always include grounding practices, such as breathing, humming or singing together. In-person roleplays enable people to practice holding their center in ways that online trainings can’t replicate.
Timely lessons for keeping people safe in the streets I’ve seen this training pay off. At a Philadelphia No Kings march, one of our peacekeepers saw a marcher knock the red hat off of a Trump supporter who was trying to film himself arguing with the crowd. Our peacekeeper stationed himself by the provocateur and told protesters walking by, “Don’t take the bait.” The Trump supporter continued to try to draw a reaction, but other peacekeepers joined the first one, preventing the clickbait confrontation he clearly wanted.
While people this year are most worried about encountering armed agents at the polls, it’s important to remember that it’s not always outsiders who need de-escalation. An argument broke out at the front of a different No Kings march just before it was due to begin. A local march leader was angry at a man with a very large Palestinian flag that was flapping in the wind and hitting some participants in the face. A nearby marshal physically separated the two men, then spoke to each individually, calming them down so a solution could be found. The Palestinian flag remained visible near the front, but positioned so it wasn’t in anyone’s face. Incidentally, the marshal was the mother of two teenagers, and her day job is teaching neurodivergent children.
I find it helpful to remind people that they probably have skills from work or family life that are useful in dealing with conflict. This builds confidence, which also reduces fear. In the nonviolence trainings I’ve been offering, I often ask participants to get in small groups and share a time when they navigated a scary situation and kept their cool, paying attention to what helped them. Together we create a “fear toolbox” on newsprint to help us remember what works for us in a pinch.
Sometimes hard experiences teach us the most. When I was lead marshal for a march in early 2017, a man with a long robe, long hair and a beard inserted himself in front of local justice leaders holding the lead banner, just before the march was about to start. First, I calmly asked him to move behind the banner. He repeatedly refused. When I learned that “Philly Jesus,” as he’s known, had a history of this sort of thing, I asked other marshals to help, to no avail. The march started anyway, and our attempt to encircle the interloper so the marchers could pass him only escalated the conflict. Some marchers yelled that we should physically remove Philly Jesus, while others criticized us for surrounding a mentally ill person who was holding a thick walking stick, which in hindsight was not a smart choice.
The turning point came when I realized how dysregulated I was, stressed to a degree that was making me ineffective. First, I took a deep breath. That simple step allowed me to acknowledge that I needed to call in the action lead, a well-known pastor whom I had worked with before. I explained the situation to Rev. Gregory Holston, and he strode to the front of the march. After reassuring those most upset by Philly Jesus’ presence, the tall reverend began walking beside the robed figure, transforming the scene. Suddenly it looked like Jesus was accompanying the pastor instead of stealing the show.
When the march was over, I was still feeling unsettled, so I asked Ingrid Lakey, who had been at the back of the march, to lead a debrief for the marshals. She invited us to get in touch with how we were feeling, then led a discussion about what had happened, including what had eventually worked. That debrief cemented three learnings that I have recalled many times since: Remember to breathe; don’t be afraid to ask for help; and always debrief with friends to name what you learned.
There is a difference between anxious energy, which makes it hard to think straight, and fear that is a response to real risk. Staying grounded can help us assess which is which and choose a response that feels appropriate for the situation.
Not long ago, I supported a nonviolent direct action where participants briefly trespassed on federal property, which has become more risky during the second Trump administration. After the protesters finished their action and crossed the street, a Department of Homeland Security, or DHS, vehicle sped around the corner and spun around like a stunt driver in an action movie. The agent jumped out to face the protesters with aggressive body language and an accusatory tone of voice.
I’d seen DHS respond to protesters with excessive physical force under the Obama and Biden administrations. Knowing the Trump administration’s tolerance for state violence only increased my concern about the agent’s aggressive signals. Although I was the police liaison and had planned to immediately introduce myself to any law enforcement, I trusted my intuition that I should not approach the agent until he calmed down.
If armed government agents do appear at or near the polls this election — or armed militia, for that matter — there are ways to respond that reduce the risk of a confrontation.
In the midterm election in Arizona in 2022, when right-wing Oath Keepers tried to intimidate voters by photographing them and their license plates, it took a while to get a judge to ban their behavior. In the meantime, ordinary people countered their intimidation by creating a welcoming atmosphere for voters, creating a protective perimeter around the polls, and handing out water and snacks.
In Washington, D.C.’s primary this year, when National Guard troops entered the polls, volunteers confronted them and insisted they had no legal right to be there, while filming the encounters. As Daniel Hunter reported in Waging Nonviolence, “After forceful haranguing, the troops left without further incident.”
Understanding which government department we are dealing with can help our assessment of risk. While any armed agents at the polls constitutes illegal voter intimidation, the National Guard is generally better trained than ICE, which is particularly prone to violent lawbreaking. Identifying who we are dealing with will also help us pass on accurate information to lawyers who will petition for an injunction.
Showing up to potentially chaotic situations is not going to be everyone’s role. Our bodies have different experiences of trauma, vulnerability to police violence and physical stamina. As individuals, we need to assess how much risk we are willing to take. At the same time, we know from movement history that in times of crisis, more people become willing to risk their own safety to protect their communities. Speaking honestly about the various factors that impact our individual and group risk — race, citizenship, gender identity and health, to name a few — can help people identify their own limits before they are in a dangerous situation, or know when to leave if one escalates.
No matter how much training we have, none of us know for sure how we will react if we are pepper-sprayed or witness other people being hurt. That’s why the civil rights movement put so much emphasis on preparation, which greatly reduces the risk that we will lash out. That is why I’m offering nonviolence trainings in partnership with the LGBTQ Connection PAC, which is augmenting its usual deep canvass work with this kind of preparation.
Freedom Trainers, a decentralized network that teaches strategic noncooperation, is offering two-day trainings and a host of resources for the specific ways authoritarians may try to stop people from voting. The Election Safeguards Response Network, or ESRN, is a nonpartisan coalition connecting national, state and local organizations in election defense. Indivisible has a series of online trainings that are drawing thousands and which include guidance on how to talk about this election.
If all you can find is online training, take it, and then find a local group to plug into, especially if you already have de-escalation skills. If you can’t find a local group, recruit a few friends and commit to some grounding practices before you go to the polls. Maybe sing or pray or touch the grass together. Or read aloud Daniel Hunter’s reminder in the Election Defense Scenarios: “This regime desperately wants you afraid. … Don’t comply. Because here is the other truth: They fear you. They fear activated voters who are engaged. They fear a free people who show up, stay loud, and refuse to be turned away. Go be that.”
By showing up grounded and together this election, we are building the movement we need for the long haul.
A portion of this article was previously published by Friends General Conference.