Caffeinated Politics

When it comes to being bullied, there is only one way to react. By being determined.

In the opening days of my high school years, I found myself sprawled on the cafeteria floor with my tray and food all about due to being purposely tripped. A few anti-gay words were slung my way just for additional embarrassment. Upon standing, I took the tray and, though it was not designed for aerodynamic flight, hurled it at the offensive one. What followed is not a mystery. A phone call to my parents from the principal, dad saying I needed to find a way to stand up for myself, and mom worried I would land in a hospital as I weighed under 100 pounds. In the end, nothing was resolved. But it was my best friend who conceived of the idea of placing Limburger cheese at hot places around the engine of the student’s car that was parked near the school. My education about engines greatly increased that year. The bottom line I learned was never to let a bully win.

As we near the 11th month mark of Donald Trump’s bizarre and largely unconstitutional strikes on our nation, it is incumbent on all of us to find our way to fight back at the bully in the White House. We know he has built his political brand on intimidation. He thrives on fear, such as casting immigrants as threats, branding dissenters as enemies, and wielding the machinery of government like a cudgel. It is the classic posture of a bully. He demands submission, punishes resistance, and insists that silence equals loyalty. I have thought about this topic for months, and this week read about a perfect example of what fighting back looks like within the pages of the Chicago Tribune.

I can well confirm that bullies only succeed when people shrink back. That is why Chicago City Treasurer Melissa Conyears-Ervin struck a wonderful note for me.

Conyears-Ervin recently announced that her office will boycott U.S. Treasury securities and is asking the city council to allow her to redirect the city’s nearly $11 billion investment portfolio away from federal bonds. Her reasoning is unapologetically moral in that Chicago taxpayer dollars should not bankroll a government that terrorizes immigrant families through ICE raids and heavy-handed tactics.

This is not a symbolic gesture. Chicago has historically held hundreds of millions in Treasury securities. By pulling out, Conyears-Ervin is sending a message that financial stewardship is inseparable from civic values. She is saying, in effect, that Chicagoans will not pay for cruelty.

Predictably, critics accuse her of politicizing taxpayer money. But what they miss is that politics is already baked into every budget line and investment choice. Pretending that money is neutral is itself a political act—one that often benefits the powerful at the expense of the vulnerable. In this case, immigrants, migrants, and a whole array of Brown-skinned-people who are being attacked by the Trump Administration.

The point the treasurer is making is that if taxpayer dollars can be used to underwrite racist federal enforcement tactics, why shouldn’t they also be used to defend community values? Her artful boycott is a refusal to normalize intimidation, a refusal to let Chicago’s financial clout be weaponized against its own residents.

Trump’s bullying thrives on acquiescence. When leaders bend, when citizens stay silent, intimidation becomes policy. But when people stand up, whether through protest, voting, or, in this case, investment strategy, the bully loses his leverage.

Conyears-Ervin’s defiance is a reminder that our collective resistance can take many forms. It can be loud in the streets. symbolic, or financial. What matters is our refusal to be cowed.

Everyone should find a lunch tray and send it sailing towards this White House.