Le pouvoir des moins puissants commence par l’honnêteté.

Like many Americans, I had watched the video of the killing of Good by an ICE officer on a residential street in Minneapolis with horror and sorrow. From afar, this tragic and possibly criminal act of violence could plausibly be seen as incidental to President Trump’s mission to deport undocumented people from the country. But when I landed in Minneapolis on Monday and saw the size, scope and lawlessness of the federal onslaught unfolding here, I understood that Good’s killing was emblematic of its true mission: to stage a spectacle of cruelty upon a city that stands in stark defiance against Trump’s dark vision of America.

I hadn’t fully grasped how much the idea of a better future sustained me – how it made life more livable, hardship more bearable and creativity possible. When I could readily imagine a world that was more just and healthy, it was easier to commit to long-term projects and to invest in the next generation. But in our current political and environmental context, that vision has grown hazier – and I, like many others, have found it much more difficult to be productive and plan for the future.

When I asked [my therapist] if our current inability to think about the future is unique, he said it seems worse now than in the immediate aftermath of 9/11. He spoke to other psychologists in his peer group to gather their impressions.

“Clients are less optimistic now and they don’t talk about the future that much,” [he] reported back. “The consensus is that people don’t seem to feel that good about their lives now. There’s a lot of despair. I have a few clients who don’t really have plans anymore. And when I ask my clients about what they’re looking forward to, most have no answer. They’re not looking forward to things.”