Smile: An Act of Resistance
1/26/2026
MARVIN IS A Clinical Social Worker (CSW), recreational Enthusiast, and lover of deep thoughts and quiet spaces.
There is something unsettling about watching history unfold in real time and broadcast for everyone to see.
We are witnessing a collective experience before our eyes, one filled with fear, anxiety, and chaos. For many of us, it feels like standing in the middle of a storm with no clear sense of when or where it will pass.
I write this as an immigrant. As the child of immigrants. As someone raised not only by an immigrant mother, but by an entire community of people who left everything familiar behind in pursuit of something better. It required leaving behind language, culture, and community with the hope that their sacrifice would mean possibility for us.
Today, I feel like I get to step into their shoes, and that sense of uncertainty feels hauntingly familiar. The fear and anxiety that ripple through immigrant communities are no longer contained there; they have spilled outward. There is a shared unease in the air, a feeling that we are floating, unable to quite get our feet underneath us. Even those who have never questioned their sense of belonging are now grappling with instability. The ground feels unsteady for everyone. How long must we view the injustice before we go numb to everything?
I am not suggesting we ignore the chaos happening around us. To do so would be disrespectful and irresponsible. There are real injustices unfolding, real people being harmed, real consequences that demand our attention. But there is also something radical and necessary about giving ourselves permission to step away from the chaos.
Joy is not a privilege reserved for the unbothered. Joy is a right. Especially for those who have survived, endured, and adapted generation after generation. Choosing joy does not mean disengaging from reality; it means refusing to let despair consume us entirely. It is an act of resistance to smile.
None of us knows how far ahead this road goes. We don’t know what twists or hardships wait around the bend. What we do know is that burnout, numbness, and constant vigilance will not sustain us for the long haul. What will sustain us is taking time to refill our cup. To breathe, to laugh, to cry, to smile, to rest. To remember who we are outside of the struggle.
Spend time with the people who make your heart feel lighter. Do the things that bring an effortless smile to your face. Seek out laughter, shared meals, familiar music, inside jokes, and quiet moments of belonging. These are not distractions; they are fuel. They are what allow us to show up each day.
Edward Abbey reminded us: it is not enough to fight... it is even more important to enjoy it.
The more we can embrace one another, laugh with our neighbors, and nurture our shared humanity, the stronger we become. Community does not weaken resistance; it strengthens it.
When we allow ourselves moments of joy, we are better equipped to stand up to injustice. We are more grounded, more connected, and more resilient. Immigrant communities have always known this truth. We survived because we found ways to celebrate even in the margins.
So yes, pay attention. Stay informed. Speak up. But also: Rest. Laugh. Gather. Refill your cup.
The unknown is easier to face when we are not facing it alone and when we remember that joy, too, is part of the fight.