Karah lives in a rural Appalachian town where nationalism and personal freedoms are highly valued and diversity and non-violence aren’t popular. The town is filled with people who stop to help each-other change tires, high levels of drug addiction, friendly coffee shops, many gun stores, active church groups, cheerful cashiers, a neo-Nazi group, a large artisan community, a cross section of all kinds of people.
I cannot convince the gun store owner who puts up monthly billboards with harmful messages of fear and racism to take them down.
I couldn’t convince my daughter’s classmate that immigrants from Honduras are not coming to take his future job and resources.
I cannot use my Sharpie marker to make improvements to some of the bumper stickers I’ve seen in the WalMart parking lot.
I wasn’t able to shift a conversation with a man intent on evangelizing for a local area alt-right church (but I could at least leave the shop where I was accosted).
I can’t tear down the massive newly placed Trump/Pence signs that have continue to appear since November 4.
I struggle to have open and honest conversations with family members who seem to have chosen allegiance to a particular politician above a theology.
I couldn’t even convince a close Christian friend that the simple act of wearing a mask is an act of love to our neighbors.