In March 2016, Secretary of State John Kerry declared the Islamic State (also called ISIS or Daesh), an Sunni extremist group controlling territory in Syria and Iraq, guilty of genocide.

“In my judgment, Daesh is responsible for genocide against groups in territory under its control, including Yazidis, Christians, and Shia Muslims,” Kerry said in a speech at the State Department. According to NPR, this is the sixth time the United States officially labeled state or group actions abroad in this way, the previous instance being against Sudan in 2004 (Darfur).

Kerry was under pressure from Congress to make such a declaration; Republicans and Democrats joined together in the House of Representatives and voted 393-0 on Monday to call ISIS actions genocidal. Congress set Thursday as the deadline for the State Department to accept or reject the designation, a deadline many expected the Obama administration to miss.

Kerry did not suggest that military action against ISIS would increase, the main objective of many politicians, particularly Republicans, that sought the designation. The U.S. currently targets and bombs both known and suspected ISIS operatives using unmanned drones, a tactic that protects the lives of American servicemen but also kills far more innocent bystanders than it does terrorists, according to multiple sources, and aids in terrorist recruiting efforts, inspiring further violence.

ISIS crimes against humanity include mass public executions, torture and mutilation, crucifixion, rape, kidnapping, sex trafficking, expulsion, destruction of places of worship, and forced conversion. Members have set about “stoning alleged adulterers to death and throwing gay men off buildings to their death and using child executioners,” to quote the International Business Times. Shia Muslims, Christians, and Yazidis (who worship one God, honor seven angels who look over the Earth, and believe in reincarnation) are the main targets of ISIS, whose members wish to subjugate others to Sunni Islam (the “true,” “pure” Islam) and their new caliphate.

Journalist Amy Goodman claimed that “ISIS has killed more Muslims than certainly members of any other religion,” which is likely accurate. Shia Muslims (13% of Syrians, 60-65% of Iraqis) have likely lost the most civilians at the hands of ISIS, followed by Yazidis (less than 1% of Syrians and Iraqis) and Christians (10% of Syrians, less than 1% of Iraqis).

In the first 8 months of 2014, ISIS killed 8,500 civilians in Iraq (a country with very few Christians), according to a U.N. report. From mid-2014 to late 2015, ISIS executed an estimated 10,000 people in Syria and Iraq, including 2,000 civilians in Syria and 3,000 civilians in Iraq. Thousands more people have died in suicide bombings, in battles, and massacres. For example, nearly 1,700 Iraqi Air Force cadets, mostly Shia, were murdered at Camp Speicher in Tikrit, Iraq in June 2014 and up to 5,000 Yazidi were mowed down in August 2014 in Sinjar Province, Iraq. Those events are not included in the 10,000 tally. The Knights of Columbus and In Defense of Christians identified some 1,100 Christians killed by ISIS in the report they sent to Kerry on March 9.

The reports caution these estimates are conservative — the precise number of deaths among all these groups is unknown, but likely higher.

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Three weeks after the election, I found myself sitting between two men: a black man on my right, a white man on my left.

We sat together at the Shoal Creek Police Station in north Kansas City. The black man and I were under arrest for participating in a peaceful act of civil disobedience in support of a higher minimum wage and union rights for Kansas City workers. We’d known each other for a few hours. The white man was a drunk stranger, I believe hauled in for domestic violence.

My companion and I were forced to listen for an extended time to this man’s thoughts, some incoherent, others insensitive, a few overtly racist. We tried to counter some of this, but the man was in no condition to be reasoned with.

Civil disobedience “won’t do anything,” he said, a smug smile on his lips as he readied the punchline. “All you’re doing is disrupting the crack flow in the inner city.”

He explained that Somalis are foolish because they choose to drive taxis instead of finding better work, and how poor Americans in general need to work harder (as hard as he) and get off welfare.

He spoke of how native Africans are poor “because they’re just so stupid,” and how if I ever started a business I should take on my black comrade as a partner because “he looks like he could use a helping hand, if you know what I mean.”

This angered me, but as a white man my indignation was only against attacks on others; it’s not the hotter anger of one who is personally demeaned and defamed. I wondered what my companion was feeling at that moment. When I was able to put aside for a second my embarrassment that a fellow white person, intoxicated or not, would say such things in the presence of a black man, or at all, I saw my companion was stone-faced, eyes observing something far away, something I couldn’t see.

Perhaps it was memories. He’d seen and heard such things before. Perhaps he was simply trying to quell the anger toward this slander against where he lived, his work ethic, his ancestors from another continent, who he was.

I didn’t speak to him about it after our release. But I imagine he didn’t feel like he belonged.

Like the nation as a whole, Kansas City struggles to be a place where all people feel like they belong. That our city should be such a home is not the unrealistic demand of “sensitive, entitled snowflakes” who “get offended by everything.” It is the basic ideal of the American experiment, that all people are created equal, worthy of the same dignity, respect, and human rights. In a decent American society, that lived up to its principles, every person would feel like he or she belonged.

Clearly, this is not yet the case. The Southern Poverty Law Center recorded nearly 900 hate incidents in the ten days following Donald Trump’s election. Trump supporters were emboldened, validated, and set about verbally and physically attacking the people Trump demeaned and vilified. Women were grabbed by the genitals, homosexuals beaten, hijabs ripped off Muslim girls, blacks called “niggers,” Jews called “kikes,” Hispanics mocked and told to leave the country. Vandalism featured swastikas, nooses, and racial slurs.

Whites and Trump supporters were victims also, to a small degree. 23 incidents, or 2.6%, were anti-Trump, and some included physical violence. All hate crimes are wrong and must be condemned, and all hate crimes make someone feel like he or she does not belong. But we cannot pretend all groups experience hate crimes equally. As The Star noted on January 6, only 10.5% of all hate crimes in 2015 were directed against whites (a typical percentage), even though the U.S. is still nearly 70% white. We also must not pretend hate crimes against one group cannot be a reaction to hate crimes against another. Such things do not always come from the same place.

What was the Kansas City experience? A black Kansas Citian found a swastika and noose spray-painted on his car. Alongside “Hail President Trump,” racial slurs, misogynistic slurs, and swastikas were left inside the Kansas City Public Library downtown. A Muslim business owner received threatening phone calls, and “white power!” was shouted at him in person. A student drew a Klansman saying “Kill all blacks!” at Piper High School. A gay man was beat, had a gun put to his head, and had “fag” spray-painted on his car. “Alt-Right” advertisements appeared saying “America was 90% white in 1950. It is now 60%. Make America Great Again.” A white man shot three people, killing one, while hunting down Arabs — he yelled “Get out of my country!” (The victim’s grieving wife, in a public statement, asked, “Do we belong here? Is this the same country we dreamed of?”) Further, a group of teenagers assaulted a white man they thought was a Trump supporter. Anti-white statements like “Kill Whitey” were scribbled on walls of a UMKC building.

Even before election day, things were getting bad. In 2015, religious hate crimes in KC rose 60%, most against Muslims, while general hate crimes rose 35%.

While there has been a great amount of progress in Kansas City since its Jim Crow era, since the heyday of its anti-immigrant and anti-religious minority hysteria, since its very beginning as a slave society in the early 1800s, there is still much work to do to make this city a place where everyone feels like they belong. But how can this be accomplished?

One way is to ensure local and national laws protect the freedom and equality of all people. Many will ask: if the law does not offer all the same respect, why should the individual? We must push for moral and fair public policy. That must be Kansas City’s response to proposals like mass deportations, the registration of Muslims, the repeal of same-sex marriage, the return of stop-and-frisk, and so on.

This is done through people’s movements, when ordinary people come together to force the government to yield to their demands. Progress always comes on the backs of troublemakers: those who organize, agitate, petition, protest, march, strike, sit-in, and engage in civil disobedience. When the powerful realize the trouble will not stop — only grow — until demands are met, they surrender. If enough people unite, they can shut down a city, a state, or an entire country. From Kansas City’s Valentine’s Day strike of 1918, in which 15,000 workers brought the city to a halt, to India’s 2016 strike of 180 million workers that did the same to a nation, the people have the power to take whatever they want — by simply leaving their workplaces and flooding the streets. This will occur in Kansas City whenever injustice rears its ugly head. We saw it at the inauguration day march from Union Station to City Hall, the Women’s March in Kansas City, and the protest at MCI against the immigration ban.

A second way is to help change the way others think. Make no mistake, the activism described above can make bystanders think differently. But in general, Kansas Citians must encourage each other to hold one another to the same standards — that is, you must offer the same rights, respect, kindness, and dignity to others that you expect. That simple maxim, which almost all profess to believe in, could transform society if actually followed.

Under such a rule, one would think registering Muslims as ludicrous as registering Christians. Immigration bans would be a thing of the past, because ethical societies don’t punish the many for the crimes of the few. Tearing apart families by deporting good men and women who came to the U.S. illegally to escape poverty and violence would be unthinkable, because no one would want that done to their family. Homosexuality would be accepted as a natural human trait, like heterosexuality, with marriage rights protected for all. Discriminatory policing against black folk would be under constant attack by all white Americans, who would not want to be subjected to such mistreatment. All men would likewise be up in arms against the constant sexual harassment against women, light sentences for rapists, and other trademarks of rape culture. Hate crimes and everyday racist comments, no matter who against, would be found only in the history books.

That would be a much better society, a Kansas City where all people lived without fear and with a sense of belonging. Such a society is ours to create.

When my black comrade and I were released, we sat in a warm van with many others who were trickling out of the police station.

“You think we made a difference?” he asked, to no one in particular.

I thought of all the ordinary troublemakers before us who had protested and been arrested: those who fought for decent wages and the 40 hour workweek, the end of child labor, equal rights for women, people of color, religious minorities, and LGBT people, and the end of bloody wars like Vietnam. Those men and women rose up against exploitation, injustice, and bigotry. Surely they asked themselves the same question, and surely there was only one correct answer.

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Conservative criticism of the Women’s March on Washington seems to be revolving around several poorly considered ideas.

First, the notion that the march was simply a tantrum thrown by sore losers. Second, that women already have all the rights that men do, so why are they bothering? Third, that it is hypocritical to oppose a man who says vile things about and does vile things to women but support a woman who is married to a man who acts in a similar way. There are other criticisms, of course (“Feminists want to emasculate and oppress men!”), too absurd to be worthy of comment.

Let’s consider each point in turn, but first note the obvious: the people who are confused as to what the purpose or motives of the march was probably did not actually bother to read the mission, vision, or principles put forth by the organizers. They likely did not attend the march. They may not have even bothered to ask their friends, male or female, why they personally went. I personally feel that if people were inclined to do such things, the misinformation would not be so egregious. I can’t pretend to speak for every woman that went, but by doing those things I got a fairly informed idea as to what it was all about.

Let’s think through the first point. Was it simply that the Republican candidate won and the Democratic one lost? Is it just liberals being sore losers, without any other context? Well, no thinking person actually believes this. The Women’s March was likely the largest single-day protest in national history, with over 3 million Americans participating. Would we have seen such an event if Marco Rubio had been elected? If Jeb Bush beat Hillary Clinton? Is the victory of every Republican presidential candidate followed by historic-sized protests? Perhaps the protest has more to do with anger over the words and actions of the person elected, rather than the simple fact that he won.

Second, while it is true women have roughly the same legal rights as men, there is a certain right men could never possibly need but women might. That is, the right to an abortion. The Women’s March wasn’t solely about abortion rights (another conservative misconception), but it was a big part of it. The principles included “open access to safe, legal, affordable abortion and birth control for all people, regardless of income, location or education.” Now, staunchly pro-life people won’t agree with that, which is fine. But women (and men) who are pro-choice believe the right to an abortion should be protected and know it is currently under attack, from Texas (which slashed funding for clinics, forcing all but 20 to close in a state with 13 million women) to Ohio (which joined 15 other states in enacting a ban on abortions after 20 weeks). Again, this may sound like good news to you if you are conservative, but the point is that abortion is a right protesters sought to protect. They wanted to voice opposition to anti-abortion policies Trump and Republicans support and will likely move to enact.

Also on the subject of rights is women’s pay. Many conservatives have made it clear they either believe unequal pay for equal work is a myth or don’t even understand what it means (“My man makes more than me because his job is manual labor and mine isn’t”; “Look at how rich this woman is! The idea we’re paid less is stupid”). It’s the radical idea that a woman with comparable education and experience as a man would make the same as him in the same field or industry. Yes, the wage gap is partly explained by men dominating certain high-paying fields (which in turn is partly explained by sexism in schools, which can slowly push girls away from lucrative fields like STEM), but unequal pay for equal work and equal qualifications within the same field is also a real problem. As the Economic Policy Institute put it,

Women are paid less than similarly educated men at every level of education. And the wage gap tends to rise with education level… Women who work in male-dominated occupations are paid significantly less than similarly educated males in those occupations. So even recommending that women choose better-paying occupations does not solve the problem.

Whether or not you trust research into the matter is your business, but just know that protesters do trust this is a problem and wish to voice dissent.

Beyond equal pay, there’s sexism in general. The EPI summarizes:

One famous study found that switching to blind auditions led to a significantly higher proportion of female musicians in orchestras (Goldin and Rouse 1997).

An experimental study of résumés submitted for job openings found bias against women and mothers and a preference for male applicants (Steinpreis, Anders, and Ritzke 1999). Another résumé study showed discrimination against women in the sciences (Moss-Racusin et al. 2012).

Researchers have also found that women are viewed as less competent than men, and that mothers are judged as even less competent than childless women (Ridgeway and Correll 2004).

There are of course other issues, such as the fact that any boy under 18 can buy condoms without a problem, but girls face all kinds of legal barriers to birth control in many states. But abortion, equal hiring practices, and equal pay are the main legal rights women seek to maintain or achieve.

However, this was only part of the event. An equally important matter was standing up to sexual harassment and sexual violence. This protest was not the whine of a losing side in a typical election, it was an outburst of anger against the disrespect and abuse Trump exhibited and the culture that too often excuses, tolerates, or embraces such things — tolerates to the point of voting for a vile man like Trump. Boasting of grabbing women by the vagina, calling women fat, ugly pigs, saying Hillary Clinton couldn’t satisfy her husband, making jokes to women about blow jobs, and going to trial for rape would, in a sensible world, enrage everyone. Most of the speeches, signs, and shirts I saw, and the conversations I heard, were about sexual violence, sometimes Trump’s, sometimes someone else’s. From demeaning catcalls to nasty comments (a government official in New Mexico said women protesting “have the right to be slapped”) to the absurdly light sentences for vicious rapists, feminist liberals wish to build a society where women are safe, treated with respect, and see justice done to the worst of humanity. Surely everyone, regardless of political persuasion, can support what the organizers wrote, that women should be “free of all forms of violence against our bodies.” Days after the march, Oklahoma ruled that oral sex is not rape if the victim is unconscious from drinking.

Which brings us to the third and final point, the infidelities of Bill Clinton and the rape accusations against him, and how these things affect whether the Women’s March was an event worthy of praise or scorn. Conservatives posit: “This march wouldn’t have taken place if Hillary Clinton had won. You oppose Trump and his nastiness, yet support Hillary, whose husband is a cheater, a liar, and an accused rapist. That’s hypocrisy.”

Well, one might suppose not all of the 3 million American marchers supported or voted for Hillary. How many Bernie Sanders loyalists were there, for instance? Just because one despises Trump’s words and deeds against women does not mean he or she is a fan of Hillary or Bill Clinton. Perhaps some, like me, are critics of both. Regardless, even assuming all attendees voted for Hillary, there are obvious problems with this idea.

Most sensible people would consider Hillary a victim in this regard. She was cheated on countless times, likely lied to. Should she be punished for the crimes of her unfaithful husband? I think not — even if she stayed with him to maintain political power and opportunities. He should be frowned upon for infidelity and thrown in prison if rape charges are determined to be true. But his wife shouldn’t have to wear a badge of shame because of what he did. Hillary is the victim of Bill’s infidelity, and that in no way means people should automatically not support or vote for her. Unless she is staying mum about Bill raping women, which there is no evidence for, she is an innocent bystander to his crimes (if factual). Believe it or not, one could support imprisoning someone for a crime and support his wife, a victim, in her career pursuits. Hillary is not Bill.

In the same way I do not pretend Bill was running for president, I do not yet suppose he and Trump are of the same character. If they are both one day found guilty of rape, they can rot in prison together and we can call them equally awful men. But put aside the accusations against both for a moment; suppose they are all false. At the time of the election, and the march, and today, neither person was tried and convicted of rape. So what is left? Bill is a cheating husband, but not known for demeaning women. Trump still brags of sexual assault, tears down women for their appearance, and makes lewd remarks about contestants on his show, political enemies, etc. So is it hypocrisy to protest Trump but not Bill over how they treat women? Perhaps there is a tinge of hypocrisy, but not much. When it comes down to it, if using what we know at the moment, Donald Trump is more worthy of a protest than Bill Clinton when it comes to the treatment of women. If you add in the other stated principles of the Women’s March (like “Disability Rights” and “Civil Rights”) and consider Trump’s treatment of other groups (disabled Americans, Muslims) compared to Bill’s, this might make the case that Trump deserves a Women’s March more than Bill even stronger. His support for restrictions on abortion and other right-wing policies would make the case stronger still, in the eyes of those on the left.

(Conservatives speaking of hypocrisy should ask themselves: If Bill is worthy of protest and disdain, is not Trump worthy of even more? Those crying hypocrisy shouldn’t be saying the Women’s March, this stand against Trump, was wrong. They should be saying it was right. More specifically, “It was the right thing to do, but you should protest against Bill as well, to avoid hypocrisy.” The alternative is to protest neither. But that does no good for anyone — including Bill’s alleged victims. Liberals must ask ourselves: If Trump is worthy of protest, is Bill? I think Trump is much more worthy of protest than Bill, yet am not opposed to a mass stand against infidelity or worse crimes that he committed. I believe both would be positive things. If conservatives wish to make accusations of hypocrisy, they must also decide if both are right or if both are wrong. Currently, the absence of a theoretical march against injustice is being used to criticize a march against injustice.)

The idea that Trump is more worthy of a protest than Bill (putting aside unconfirmed accusations) when it comes to treatment of women is my view, and you are free to think differently. However, given that view, you can see why I don’t see much hypocrisy between a Women’s March for Trump and none for a theoretical First Man Bill Clinton. Same for opposing Trump’s presidential campaign in general but supporting Hillary’s. For there to be full-blown hypocrisy, different standards must be applied to two things that are essentially the same.

A man running for president is not the same as a man married to a woman running for president. Committing infidelity is not the same as committing sexual assault. A man may be worthy of protest, but a worse man can be even more worthy. And so on.

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Last week I received a phone call. Someone from Stand Up KC was calling.

Are you interested in participating in an act of civil disobedience — the peaceful violation of the law ending with a voluntary arrest — with about 100 other people in Kansas City and thousands across the country?

The words of two men flashed through my mind. One man was a black writer and abolitionist of the Civil War era, Frederick Douglass: “If there is no struggle there is no progress. Those who profess to favor freedom and yet deprecate agitation are men who want crops without plowing up the ground; they want rain without thunder and lightning. They want the ocean without the awful roar of its many waters… Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did and it never will.”

The other was a white historian from the time of the great civil rights and anti-Vietnam movements, Howard Zinn: “Civil disobedience…is not our problem. Our problem is civil obedience… Our problem is that people are obedient all over the world in the face of poverty and starvation and stupidity and war and cruelty. Our problem is that people are obedient while the jails are full of petty thieves, and all the while the grand thieves are running the country.”

Civil disobedience.

This tactic has long been used by ordinary people — from the Revolutionary War to the civil rights struggle, from Vietnam to today’s battle against poverty — to get what they demand from the powerful, whether the State or corporations.

What did Stand Up KC demand? A living wage for all workers in all occupations.

I believe that no matter what occupation you find yourself in — by choice or circumstance — you should not have to live in poverty. You should not have pennies left over after paying for rent, groceries, and gas. You should not have to decide between paying the electric bill or paying the water bill. Not in the richest nation in the history of humanity. Not even if your work is flipping burgers. I trust the economic studies and historical research that make it exceptionally plain raising the minimum wage does not lead to higher unemployment (often it’s the opposite) and only raises the costs of goods and services by a couple percentage points, easily offset by higher wages. I understand how the cycle of poverty functions, ensuring the children of poor parents typically become poor adults due to limited opportunities compared to middle-income and wealthy people.

“Yes, I am.”

We trained. We met at a small church for instruction in the art of civil disobedience. Ignore police orders to leave. But when they come to handcuff you, comply. Don’t resist. You will be taken into custody, perhaps for minutes, perhaps hours, perhaps overnight. We have three lawyers ready to represent you. Bond money has already been raised. Charges could be equivalent to jaywalking…or trespassing. We will work to get any charges tossed out.

I asked if there would be official observers filming the arrests. I didn’t want anyone to be falsely accused of resistance or violence. Yes, there would be observers.

On Tuesday, November 29, 2016, hundreds of Kansas Citians, many abandoning their workplaces and going on strike, gathered at 63rd and Paseo at 5 p.m., as the light began to fade.

I parked my car in a neighborhood, and left my wallet and phone behind. We were told to carry only our driver’s license, which I kept in my front pocket.

Weaving through the crowd, I found the check-in table. I gave the woman my name. I wrote my name and phone number on a bag, put my keys inside it, and gave it to her. I pulled up the sleeve of my coat, took a permanent marker from a box, and scribbled a lawyer’s number on my skin, as instructed. The woman tied a yellow band around my arm — distinguishing protesters participating in civil disobedience.

I made small talk with a few people I knew. Watched people hand out American flags, hats and gloves, and pizza. Noticed the lawyers getting into position.

Then the speeches began at a podium. Men, women, Muslim, Christian, Jewish, black, white, and Latina speakers. We do not make enough to provide our children with comfortable lives. People have to work multiple jobs. And the new administration…attacks on the poor are already underway. Medicare, Social Security. Will nativism and bigotry divide the working class? United we stand, divided we fall. An injury to one is an injury to all.

Horns from passing cars blared in solidarity. Fists rose through lowered car windows. I and others raised our fists back.

But wait, what was that? Someone screaming from a pickup truck as it passed. Unintelligible from my spot, but it hardly sounded friendly.

Moments later, shouting from the back of the crowd. The speaker, a rabbi, ignored it and pressed on at the microphone, but the crowd was not so easily distracted.

“Get better jobs! Get better jobs! Get better jobs!”

A middle-aged white man walked forward along the edge of the crowd, screaming. He was not pleased with this gathering of low-wage fast food and retail workers.

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself?” someone from our gathering said. Others admonished him.

Folks on the edge of the crowd blocked the man from entering the area, and eventually the man’s voice trailed off and he disappeared.

Get better jobs, I mused. What luck this man arrived to bestow this wisdom. Christ. Why not just shout, “Don’t be poor! Don’t be poor!”

The final speaker ordered those getting arrested to the front of the crowd, so I pressed forward. The rest of the gathering clapped for us. Then the march began, down the sidewalk — toward a McDonald’s. Signs and fists were raised. Chants sounded in the darkness.

What do we want? / Fifteen and a union! When do we want it? / Now!

Everywhere we go / People want to know… Who we are / So we tell ’em… We are the workers / The mighty, mighty workers… Fighting for Fifteen / And good jobs for all…

I saw the first police car after we’d been walking for 10 minutes or so. He was just driving alongside us. We reached the McDonald’s down the street after a quick 20 minute march.

We followed our organizer into the street, and he lowered his hands. Over 100 of us sat down on the road, locked arms, and started to sing. The rest of the protesters remained on the sidewalk behind us.

The Kansas City and Jackson County police materialized from all directions. Five or so officers on horseback. Another fifteen or twenty on foot. One or two with gas masks. One with a shotgun. Cruisers were positioned to keep traffic away. Most officers wore serious expressions, but a few looked amused, some friendly, others angry.

The media appeared next. Cameras rolling and flashing. KCUR, the Star, the local TV news channels.

After a police announcement (something about how if we didn’t return to the sidewalk we’d be arrested) was drowned out by song and chant, officers began cuffing protesters, with disposable bonds. With so many people, it was a long process. We just continued to chant, even — especially — those getting arrested.

“If you don’t get out of the street, you’re going to jail.” It was my turn.

I nodded and remained seated.

“OK,” the officer said, and helped me up. He was a friendly man. He cuffed me and we walked across the street to where the other arrested folk were being loaded into police vans. “Thanks for your cooperation,” the officer said, and left to arrest someone else.

“What’s your name?” a man in a suit called to me. One of our lawyers! I told him.

The protesters on the sidewalk and those arrested chanted in call-and-response fashion from the two sides of the street.

Stand up / KC!

Stand up / KC!

I was helped into a van with eight others — black, white, Asian, male, female. Things were festive, the adrenaline rushing. An officer took us on a drive of only a few minutes, to a nearby station, but we didn’t end up going inside. Everyone would be identified outside and then taken to different jails for processing.

We sat in the van for perhaps three-quarters of an hour. We sang hip-hop and pop songs. Somebody come get her, she’s dancing like a stripper… A man and I talked about the Walking Dead for a few minutes. A few folks wiggled out of their cuffs. A guy next to me was hot, so I helped him by biting his hood and pulling it off his head. A blonde girl had to use the bathroom badly; we had to warn her against going in the van. Could it be another charge? Destruction of police property? I had made sure not to drink much a few hours before the march, in hopes of not having to ask a policeman to use a bathroom; this mission was successful, but I was very dehydrated by the end of the night.

We were taken out of the vehicle and joined other protesters from other vans. We spent another hour outside, as we were identified person-by-person. We talked amongst ourselves and with the police, who were polite and amiable. Stand Up KC had communicated what would occur in advance so the police could be prepared — and perhaps that lightened the mood. “This guy’s got some pipes,” the officer from our van said, pointing to the most enthusiastic singer from our group. This officer was part of a K9 unit, so we asked him about his dog.

It was a cold night. We huddled together for warmth, a fine way to meet new people. My arms were in pain from being restrained behind my back, but fortunately the officers cut our bonds and redid them in front. The girl urinated on the ground at the back of our group; somehow she went unnoticed by basically everyone.

Eventually I was searched (not the first time, nor the last), identified, and sat in a new van, with the heat blasting, for a while. A protester and police officer, both formerly from Chicago, recognized each other. “You used to be a cop?” another woman asked the protester. “I’m a mechanic, I used to work on the cop cars.”

Then the men and women were separated. I was taken to a paddy wagon with seven other men, three white and four black. A reverend. A Ford worker. A Burger King employee. They would be my fellow prisoners.

Our new officer explained to us that the downtown station and nearby stations were full, so we were going up to the Shoal Creek facility near Liberty. The mood was still jovial. The reverend, a union organizer, and I discussed politics for a while. A couple guys in the car had been to jail before, and told us their experiences. After a fifteen or twenty minute drive, I was beginning to feel carsick, and worried for a moment I might throw up inside this hot, cramped, jostling box.

“Can we play some tunes?” one of my fellows asked the officer.

“No, I wish!”

We were taken into the station and waited to be booked. We chatted with our officer about firearms, martial arts, Missouri and Kansas laws, and so on. He said officers were really feeling like targets these days; the black men with me said they knew how he felt. We talked about Stand Up KC and the Fight for $15. “I totally understand that,” the officer said when we told him workers weren’t making enough to provide for their families and how historically civil disobedience helps push change forward. “But a lot of us had to be called out to take you in, and there was a shooting tonight.”

I wondered then if those who believed civil disobedience wasn’t worth the risk — distracting the police or delaying ambulances or fire trucks — were also the fiercest critics of the World Series victory parade and similar events.

He was a kind man, but wasn’t supportive of the movement. He explained he used to work for low wages, but worked his way to a bigger paycheck. The implication was unstated but clear: Why weren’t we doing the same? Why weren’t we willing to work hard? Too lazy? Too misguided? Too foolish? Get a better job!

Also: “I work a dangerous job, other types of work are much safer,” he told us, dismissive of higher wages for retail, childcare, and fast food workers.

Apparently it’s only dangerous work that deserves a decent wage, I thought. The millionaire CEOs won’t be happy to hear this.

A couple of the officers at Shoal Creek were frustrated, both at us protesters and some internal disorganization. Though Stand Up KC told the KCPD how many people would need to be arrested, they did not seem entirely prepared. A few griped about how higher-ups had decided to handle the protests. “But hey, we’re here to serve!” one said loudly, in our direction. It is likely the higher-ups wanted the whole process to take a while, to discourage future civil disobedience.

I was the last of us eight to be booked, and got stuck sitting next to a drunk the police dragged in after a domestic violence call. My comrades were safe in the cell, and I longed to join them. The man, white and near 60, droned on and on about how “protests won’t do anything,” how “all you’re doing is disrupting the crack flow in the inner city,” how Communism is evil, how “we just gotta give Trump a chance,” how Somalis are foolish because they choose to drive taxis instead of finding better work, how people need to work hard like him and get off welfare, how the people in Africa are poor “because they’re just so stupid,” and how if I ever start a business I should take on one of my black comrades in the cell as a partner because “he looks like he could use a helping hand, if you know what I mean.”

Countering his drunken, racist word vomit was difficult and tiresome. I was relieved when it was my turn for a mug shot, fingerprinting, and at last imprisonment in the cell with my partners in crime. Back to chatting and telling stories.

We were at the station for three hours, and were slowly processed and released on bond. We were charged with failing to obey a lawful order.

When we were freed, the lawyer I had spoken to earlier was waiting outside for us. We tried to nap in a Stand Up KC van while a group of women, who had also been sent to this station due to overflow elsewhere, were also freed. (At one point the window of our cell was covered up and the male police officers shooed away so female officers could remove the hijab of a Muslim woman protester for a search and mug shot.) Eventually, we drove back to the church where we trained, got our keys and other items, and from there rode back to our homes or parked cars. I was home by 4 a.m. — it was an 11-hour experience.

As I prepared for rest, I thought of what one of my companions had asked: “You think we made a difference?”

Civil disobedience can do many things. It can make potential allies realize they are not alone, swelling the ranks of a cause. It can show opponents that such a cause, to those who care about it, is worth being arrested or jailed for — and maybe, just maybe, this will change the way some people think. Most importantly, it can make an employer or the State realize trouble won’t stop until demands are met, and therefore can push policy change through faster. Since the Fight for $15 troublemakers began protesting just four years ago, nearly 20 million workers have won raises in places like California, New York, and Massachusetts. It pushed the Kansas City council to support a higher minimum wage. “Protests won’t do anything” indeed.

To the officer, the drunk, and the counter-protester, civil disobedience like this might not make much sense. But that cannot be the case for long. For while these things start small, as they grow they become more easy to grasp. When 100 turns into 1,000, it is easier to see. When it grows to 5,000 or 10,000, it’s clearer still. The truth is, if enough ordinary people unite and organize, they can do more than shut down a street. They can shut down a city, a state, or an entire nation. From Kansas City’s Valentine’s Day strike of 1918, in which 15,000 workers brought the city to a halt, to India’s 2016 strike of 180 million workers that froze a country, the people have the power to take whatever they want — by leaving their workplaces and flooding the streets. We the people can plow up the earth, we will be the flash of lightning and clap of thunder, we will be the mighty roar of the ocean.

We part with the words of the great black poet Langston Hughes:

You could stop the
factory whistle blowing,
Stop the mine machinery
from going,
Stop the atom bombs
exploding,
Stop the battleships
from loading,
Stop the merchant
ships from sailing,
Stop the jail house keys
from turning
…You could
If you would

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Simply put, when you cast your ballot for Donald Trump, you decided his attacks on your neighbors were not vicious or vulgar enough to disqualify him.

This decision was made in the light of other factors. You had other priorities. You opposed Hillary Clinton’s deception and corruption. Perhaps you wanted to shock and dismantle the establishment — the media, corporate, and political elites. Likely you were concerned with restoring Republican power, particularly over the Supreme Court, and advancing conservative policies like curtailing abortion rights and protecting the all-important Second Amendment. You perhaps thought Trump, as a businessman, could offer economic policies that would benefit you.

Whatever your reasons, you prioritized. You weighed factors such as these against the things Trump said about your neighbors and the things he promised to do to them. And such factors were more important to you.

Now, don’t get me wrong, many bigots voted for Trump. For example, polls show 38% of Trump supporters think minorities have “too much influence” in the U.S., 40% believe blacks are lazier than whites, and so on. But you do not think that way. This article is for you, not for them.

You simply did not care enough to put the people Trump threatened and degraded before the other factors important to you.

You didn’t care enough about women to reject Trump when he called women ugly and fat, when he bragged about being able to grab women’s vaginas because he was a celebrity. The rape cases against him were surely nothing but rumors.

You were too insensitive toward Muslims to not vote for Trump when he said mosques should be monitored, Muslims should be registered in a database or made to wear special identification, and no more Muslims should be allowed to enter the land of the free.

You didn’t care enough about African Americans to abandon Trump when he retweeted white supremacists lying about blacks being the main killers of whites, perpetuating stereotypes of the violent, criminal black man, called for the return of harsh, discriminatory police policies like stop-and-frisk, or refused to rent to blacks. You didn’t care enough that he delayed in denouncing KKK support or had an open white supremacist like Stephen Bannon running his campaign.

You didn’t care enough about the children of undocumented immigrants, whose mothers and fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers, will be arrested, throw into trucks, and taken away forever if Trump’s deportation plan comes to pass. You didn’t care enough about Trump stereotyping the people escaping bloody wars and extreme poverty in Central and South America as rapists, drug dealers, and job thieves.

You didn’t care enough about the disabled when he heartlessly mocked a disabled reporter or had a protester in a wheelchair removed from his rally.

You didn’t care enough about veterans when Trump said a P.O.W. wasn’t a war hero.

You certainly didn’t care enough about homosexuals to not vote for Trump when he said a conservative Supreme Court could toss out the gay marriage decision.

Whether Trump intends to carry out his threats, whether he believes what he says or was using such rhetoric as a political strategy to appeal to the conservative base, is irrelevant. Regardless of motive, people who speak of authoritarianism and use demagoguery must be opposed.

This is not only directed at conservative straight white men, but rather every single person who cast a ballot for Trump. The 58% of white voters, 8% of black voters, 29% of Latino voters. The 10% of liberals, 41% of moderates, 81% of conservatives. The 14% of LGBT voters. The 58% of Christians. The 53% of women.

Perhaps you’re an African American who didn’t care enough about Muslim rights. Perhaps you’re liberal who didn’t care enough about respect for women. Regardless, you prioritized. You voted against many of your own interests. You’re a Muslim who has helped bring to power a man vowing to strip you of your civil liberties. Or an LGBT American who may have set in motion the undoing of much progress. You put other considerations, other interests, ahead of the respect and civil rights you deserve as a human being and citizen of the United States — and which your neighbors deserve, as well.

Sadly, people voting against their own interests is nothing new in American politics. Look to the conservative whose family could immensely benefit from higher taxes on the rich strengthening social programs like Social Security or covering the cost of college for anyone who wishes to attend, but takes a valiant stand against it. Voting against one’s own well-being is an act too many people on both Right and Left seem eager to partake in, and it is as disheartening as it is amazing.

That a cis straight white man is telling minority people what’s in their best interests will evoke no apology here. One cannot denounce whites and conservatives for accepting and enabling an assault on certain groups’ rights and basic human dignity — plus the emboldening of the most vile of people, who celebrated Trump’s triumph by grabbing women by the vagina, ripping hijabs off Muslim girls’ heads, screaming “nigger!” at blacks, mocking Hispanics, beating homosexuals, and a slew of other hate crimes — without likewise denouncing the liberals, women, and minorities who also participated in this American tragedy.

We have to hold all people, and ourselves, to the same standards, whether it’s criticizing folks on the Right and Left who were apologists for Trump’s policies and slander or condemning both citizen violence against the people Trump threatened and against Trump supporters.

That’s what empathy entails. You hold others to the same standards you hold for yourself. You want the same rights and treatment for others you want for yourself. Trump’s victory was fueled by many factors — hatred for the establishment (the ruling class) and corrupt politicians, economic uncertainty and strife, advancement of conservative ideals and policy, bigotry and xenophobia, and so on — but in the end a lack of empathy on the Right, and to an extent elsewhere, may be the most serious problem.

Too many are simply unable to empathize with others, extending to them the way of life and respect they desire for themselves and their children. Too many support or tolerate cruel policies because they will not personally be affected. So a politician suggests monitoring mosques and registering Muslims — why not vote for him, I am not a Muslim. A politician perpetuates stereotypes of brown immigrants and black men — why not vote for him, I am not a brown immigrant or black man. And on and on. People are looking out for themselves, caught up in a society that celebrates individualism instead of solidarity with others. We are selfish, callous to the plight of citizens of different races, religions, sexual orientations, and so on. Truly, this election renounced empathy.

You and tens of millions of others simply did not care enough about the people Trump threatened to not vote for him. Others, less guilty, were so apathetic they didn’t even vote, or voted third party in swing states.

Had we loved our neighbors, had we treated others the way we want to be treated — and rejected politicians who refused to do the same — Donald Trump would have failed. Miserably.

Perhaps your conscience is clear, your trust in your priorities unshaken, the outcome of all this satisfactory.

The rest of us mourn the death of American empathy.

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