You know that old Alice Walker quote? “The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any.” I swear, every time I hear it, it feels like she’s standing right next to me, giving me the side-eye while sipping tea and saying, “So… what are you gonna do about it?” Because honestly, that one line sums up so much of what’s happening right now in the U.S.—the creeping sense that regular folks can’t do much against the mess that’s unfolding. Spoiler: that’s exactly how the people in charge want it.
The Illusion of Powerlessness
Let’s be real—power doesn’t always look like marching bands and microphones. Most of the time, it’s quiet. It’s the voice inside that says, “My vote doesn’t matter,” or “They’ll just do what they want anyway.” And just like that, poof—power gone. Not because someone took it, but because we handed it over wrapped in apathy and tied with a bow of exhaustion.
And who could blame anyone for feeling tired? We’re bombarded with headlines that feel like a slow-motion train wreck. Book bans, attacks on LGBTQ+ rights, journalists being harassed, politicians acting like democracy is optional—it’s easy to feel like the tide is too strong. But that’s the trick. Authoritarianism thrives on convincing people they’re too small to fight back. It feeds on our collective shrug.
The Gaslighting of a Nation
We’ve been gaslit into believing “this is just how things are.” You know that uneasy feeling when you start doubting what’s real? Like, wait, did that senator actually just say that out loud? And then half the country shrugs? Yeah. That’s the numbing fog of manipulation.
When the loudest voices say “don’t worry, everything’s fine,” even as laws chip away at freedoms, it’s tempting to sink into the couch and pretend not to notice. But that’s the moment Alice Walker’s quote starts glowing neon in my brain. Because realizing you do have power is the first crack in the facade.
Power Isn’t Always Loud
We tend to picture “power” as something external—like being on TV, or having a title, or yelling into a megaphone. But sometimes, power is just saying no . No, I’m not going to normalize cruelty. No, I won’t pretend not to see what’s happening. No, I won’t let fear make me small.
Voting is one obvious tool, sure. But it’s also choosing where you spend your money, who you support, what stories you amplify, what conversations you start. It’s telling your local library board, “Hey, I like those books you’re trying to ban.” (Yes, that counts as power. Librarians are unsung superheroes in this mess.)
The Authoritarian Playbook
If you’ve ever watched a slow takeover unfold—whether in history books or live on your feed—it always starts with the same formula: convince people they’re powerless. Then, pick off rights one group at a time, while everyone else watches from the sidelines thinking, “Well, that doesn’t affect me.” Until it does.
That’s what makes Walker’s words feel especially urgent right now. We’re standing in this weird liminal space where everything still looks normal enough, but the cracks are spreading. And the people spreading them are counting on us being too distracted or discouraged to care.
Reclaiming What’s Ours
I’ve been thinking a lot about what reclaiming power looks like on a small scale. For me, it’s writing. It’s speaking up even when my voice shakes. It’s supporting journalists and artists and teachers who refuse to be silenced. It’s donating ten bucks to someone’s campaign who actually gives a damn. It’s talking to friends who are slipping into that “nothing matters” headspace and reminding them, gently, that it does.
It’s also joy, weirdly enough. Authoritarianism hates joy. It hates laughter and drag shows and art that questions things. It wants conformity and fear. So, every time we create, love loudly, or refuse to play along with hate, we’re pushing back. That’s power.
The Spark That Spreads
Here’s the thing about realizing you have power—it’s contagious. The moment you start acting like your actions matter, other people notice. And that ripple effect is how movements start. Not from grand gestures, but from a bunch of ordinary humans refusing to go numb.
It’s okay to feel small sometimes. We all do. But remember that those in power are terrified of you remembering your worth. Because once you do, the illusion falls apart.
So yeah, maybe we can’t fix everything overnight. But we can refuse to hand over our agency. We can write, vote, protest, love, create, question—and keep doing it, even when it feels pointless. Especially then.
Because as Alice Walker reminds us, power isn’t something they give you. It’s something you already have. You just have to stop pretending you don’t.
And whatever you do, don’t give them your silence.
My Ghost Oracle Box Set (Nick Michelson) is now available from your favorite online retailer.
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