I was recently removed from an academic listserv for expressing my concerns about the administration of Donald Trump. This type of self-censorship permeating across sectors, including academia, is a troubling sign of our times.

In some ways I feel as though we are living in 1933 Germany, when Adolf Hitler took power and rapidly dismantled democratic institutions, banned opposition parties, and began persecuting Jews — marking the beginning of the Nazi regime that would eventually lead to World War II and the Holocaust.

And in others — particularly given the recent detention of Mahmoud Khalil, a Palestinian green card holder, for protesting the Gaza War during an “antisemitism” crackdown — these times feel more like a chilling echo of Joseph McCarthy’s 1950s Red Scare, when Americans were aggressively investigated, blacklisted, and persecuted for suspected Communist ties in a widespread campaign of political repression.

Whatever troubling historical parallels there are to be drawn, we cannot afford to go silent.

For those wondering what else can be done, I offer these observations from my personal efforts.

There’s truly nothing new under the sun, but I find it increasingly difficult to watch academic listservs continue as if nothing is happening while we appear to be living through something akin to 1933.

I’ve unsubscribed from all my academic forums where I’ve raised alarms since January 20th. Invariably, someone complains about “too many posts” in their inbox. People are dying, careers are being destroyed, and the concern is about email volume or tone? I’m done with such triviality.

My response has been multifaceted: I demonstrate in the streets; I write to my Congressional representatives (including those I consider particularly problematic); I co-host a weekly podcast with Thinktech Hawaii analyzing current events; I publish commentaries through various platforms; I send letters to the Secretary of Defense, the White House, and the young, seemingly naive staff of Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE).

I’ve also taken personal action by boycotting platforms and companies whose leadership has capitulated to authoritarianism: dropping X when Musk acquired it, canceling my Washington Post subscriptions when Bezos blocked its editors’ endorsement of Democratic Trump opponent Kamala Harris, boycotting Bezos’ Amazon and Whole Foods, and abandoning Meta platforms when Mark Zuckerberg acquiesced.

At 69, I continue seeking additional ways to resist because history teaches us that fascism must be confronted at its inception, not after it has gained momentum.

I wear a t-shirt reading “pray for foreigners” and “American solidarity” while advocating for immigrants in letters to local newspapers. Having lived as an immigrant in France for 17 years, I was always moved when French citizens marched in support of both documented and undocumented immigrants. I consider this solidarity my duty.

Within the American Bar Association, I’ve fought to maintain strong diversity, equity, and inclusion standards for law schools while resisting this administration’s efforts to reverse progress in ways reminiscent of Plessy v. Ferguson or even Dred Scott.

I remain skeptical about the voting choices of many on these academic lists. Electoral data shows that three out of five white men, one of every two white women, and similar proportions of Latino and Asian voters supported Trump, while three out of four Black men and nine out of 10 Black women voted for Harris. This suggests many voters either overlooked or actively embraced his documented racism, sexism, misogyny, xenophobia, anti-semitism, and his more broadly problematic first term.

This isn’t to say I was enthusiastic about the previous administration. The ongoing tragedy in Gaza and the West Bank — enabled by American weapons — weighs on me daily. While Israel has the right to self-defense, the extreme departures from international humanitarian law are unconscionable. Despite this, I recognized that protest votes would lead to something worse under Trump, who appears to view Gaza as merely a real estate opportunity.

I’m appalled by the passivity — or worse, cooperation — of corporations, universities, and media in the face of these developments, not to mention the spinelessness in Congress. I’m angered by Trump’s betrayal of Ukraine and alignment with Russia.

My anger runs as wide as the Pacific and just as deep. I continuously search for additional avenues of peaceful dissent, refusing to give anyone the benefit of the doubt. The most important thing is that I fight back.

The cowardice of those who should know better is disgusting. Having known members of the French Resistance and appreciated accounts like Hans Fallada’s “Every Man Dies Alone,” I’m reminded that if a working-class couple could rebel against Hitler in 1942 Berlin by leaving anti-Nazi notes in public spaces, we should all demonstrate more courage.

The time has come for “good trouble,” not for being “good little Americans” like the “good little Germans” of 1933. The damage being inflicted by figures like Musk and their enablers will take decades to repair.

The question remains: What will you do?