My husband told me Saturday afternoon he was worried about my social media usage, that I was online too much and he was concerned about what it was going to do to my mental health.

He’s not wrong.

The news, particularly in relation to the words and deeds and intentions of the US government, is nothing short of terrifying. I’ve watched in horror as ICE torments a young couple sheltering a food delivery person. Heard the heartbreak, the abject shame in their voices as they prepared to surrender her to the armed men just outside their door. Tried to imagine the terror of having violent, unchecked thugs outside while your toddler plays inside. And we have all seen a 37 year old mother shot to death in her own car, simply for the crime of not being sufficiently submissive.

It weighs heavy. I check my feeds each morning for news from my friends in Minneapolis, my heart in my throat, hoping they are still safe. Trying to be a voice of encouragement to those burdened by the very tangible persecution queer communities are experiencing, particularly trans youth. And all while wondering how my child’s friend is doing, her father still back home in Iran and fearing that what is unfolding south of the border will leach north into Canada.

But social media offers gifts, too, moments of grace in the midst of untenable sorrow. The sounds of voices raised in song as community members process through the streets of Minneapolis, a mobile vigil for peace. Posts from Americans providing real, tangible ways for people to assist in providing safety.

The frustration of inaction, of powerlessness, is very motivating. So I’ve started this site, and publishing now despite the fact that this site is still very under construction. It will eventually feature pieces that reflect my research but for now, it is – hopefully – another point of grace.

We can all use some these days.