Why I’m Done Playing Nice with American Fascism

Laura Bock , , ,

From Center-Right to Left of Center: Why I’m Done Playing Nice with American Fascism

I used to be proud to call myself fiscally conservative and socially liberal.
Back in 2012, I even voted for Mitt Romney. I believed in a Republican party that once stood for constitutional principles, fairness, and a sense of duty to the American people.

But the Republican Party I believed in back then?
It’s gone.

Replaced by a hollow, spineless machine terrified of losing power—so much so that its members bend to the whims of a delusional demagogue in orange skin and poorly-fitted suits. They don’t do their jobs. They protect their seats, not our rights.

I miss the old guard—the ones who knew the Constitution and weren’t afraid to fight for it.
Now? I wouldn’t trust most of them to carry my groceries, let alone carry the torch of democracy.

After everything we’ve witnessed—from 2017 through 2020, and now the slow-motion unraveling of our democratic norms—I’ve shifted. I’m fully left of center. Not extreme, not unhinged, but proudly progressive. I don’t see this as red vs. blue anymore.

It’s Democracy vs. Dictatorship.
And if you don’t see that yet, you haven’t been paying attention.

They Do Everything BUT Their Jobs

Today’s Congress is a masterclass in cowardice. Elected officials cower in the shadow of a man whose only consistent trait is contempt for the law. They’re afraid to speak out. Afraid to lose donors. Afraid to lose votes.

And while they play political theater, the rest of us are watching our rights, our institutions, and our futures crumble.

We’re supposed to have checks and balances. Remember that term?
Now it feels like a fairy tale from some distant civics class.

Sorry, Mr. Brezina, this isn’t what you taught us in both Civics and US Government, and unfortunately, some of my classmates forgot even the basics and proudly wear their red hats.

I’m Angry—and I Won’t Apologize for It

Call it “too emotional” if you want. I call it righteous rage.
I’m fed up with fascist cosplay and leaders who wipe their feet—and worse—on the Constitution. If it makes you uncomfortable, good. It should. Comfort is a luxury we can’t afford in times like these.

We are not okay.
We’ve lost our moral compass, and it’s been replaced with red hats and conspiracy theories.

And don’t even get me started on the garbage AI-generated images or the idol worship of a man who can barely finish a coherent sentence. Dementia Don has become a caricature of corruption—and still, they follow.

Racism, Rewarded

Let’s talk about how we now live in a country where a woman can call a small autistic Black child the N-word and be rewarded with over half a million dollars in donations.

That’s not “free speech.” That’s hate speech, celebrated.
How is this America?

I grew up with Schoolhouse Rock, believing in the melting pot. That was the dream: a diverse, inclusive America. But racism? That’s become a proud badge for some, particularly those who still shout MAGA from rooftops.

The hypocrisy is staggering.

Still, I Hope

I know this sounds like fury. It is. But underneath it, there’s still a flicker of hope.

Hope that more people will educate themselves.
Hope that the tide will turn.
Hope that we emerge from this chaos into something stronger—something more humane.

Do I believe the Christian Judgment Day is coming? No. But I wish some of these so-called patriots would pause long enough to reflect on the hateful world they’re cheering for—and ask themselves which side of history, morality, and yes, faith, they’re truly on.

The America I Still Believe In

I want a country where:

  • People don’t have to choose between food or medicine.

  • You can love who you love without fear.

  • You can live freely without carrying the weight of someone else’s prejudice.

  • Everyone has access to shelter, health care, and opportunity.

I’m not asking for utopia. I’m asking for basic decency.

So no—I won’t shut up. I won’t sit down. And I won’t be polite to fascism.
I will speak up and out, for as long as I have breath in my lungs.

Because I may be just one voice—but I know I’m not alone.