But that's ignoring something critical: our joy has always existed alongside our struggle. It’s not denial, it’s survival.

People will try to convince you that if you're not angry all the time, you're not paying attention. That if you smile, laugh, or find moments of joy, you must not understand how serious things are.

Because every issue, every single one, hinges on the right to vote, to speak, and to show up. Democracy only works if we do.

This moment isn’t distant. It’s already here. And none of us can afford to sit it out. Call your people. Call your reps. Call the question: What are we doing (together) to defend each other?.

They benefit when we’re too distracted to act. When we’re fighting each other instead of the systems harming us. When we believe that specific acts or bills don't concern us. When we give up on our right for our voices to be heard or think that there's nothing we can do.

What happens to one of us—across state lines, in courtrooms, or at the ballot box—affects all of us. The laws being passed. The rights being stripped. The silence being rewarded. The division being fueled. It’s all connected.

“We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.” — Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

This week, Wisconsin broke records and made history in the highest voter turnout Wisconsin Supreme Court election ever. This can't be downplayed. This is huge.

It’s peak cherry blossom season. The trees are in full bloom, reminding us that beauty always returns: no matter how long the winter.

The Yale course on happiness has a section that says it’s almost impossible to look at the top of a tree and feel unhappy at the same time. Feels true.

Here's something we often forget: disability rights aren't a niche issue. According to the CDC, 1 in 4 Americans lives with a disability today. And if we're fortunate enough to live a long life, most of us will experience disability at some point – whether temporary or permanent.

People with disabilities could still legally be denied a job, housing, or access to public spaces. Within months of this powerful demonstration, the ADA was signed into law, establishing protections that millions rely on today.

Everyday people of all ages traveled to Washington D.C. to fight for the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) – legislation that would protect over 40 million Americans with physical and mental disabilities from discrimination.

On March 12, 1990, disability rights activists left their wheelchairs and mobility devices at the bottom of the Capitol steps and began to crawl. One painful step after another, they made their way toward Congress.

If you haven't heard of the Capitol Crawl, then let me set the scene: Consider 83 steps. For many of us, climbing them might be tiring but doable. Now imagine facing those same steps without the use of your legs or with limited mobility. Sounds impossible.

Today is the 35th anniversary of the famous Capitol Crawl.

They are the people who have lived through similar circumstances, that we can look to for solutions, for courage, and for comfort.

Remember that history is just as much an archive as it is a mirror. Think of your hero, your inspiration. A family member, an activist, a person who has changed your outlook on the world. Then remember this, our heroes are more than inspiration, history, or distant memories.

Their courage shocked the nation, leading to the passage of the Voting Rights Act. But remembrance alone is not enough. Today, as new voting restrictions sweep across states, I can still hear his voice calling us forward.

Today is the 60th anniversary of Bloody Sunday, the day John Lewis and hundreds of marchers were brutally attacked on the Edmund Pettus Bridge for demanding the right to vote.