Two pieces from our Write-In

On March 29, the day after No Kings, we hosted a Write-In, in partnership with Target Majority NYC. 35 people came together over Zoom, wrote in response to an optional prompt1, and shared work with each other. It was a great way to be in community after the huge protest, and we had people from all over the country join us.

Part of the idea was to share some of the writing, as a way of memorializing and bearing witness. So today, check out these two pieces by Warren Hilsbos and Kent Shell, each written on the spot in 20 minutes (If you attended, it’s not too late to send me what you wrote.)

Power Pieces NKD 3

Sunday, March 29, 2026

4:58 PM

Much like the moments of the day, No Kings Day, the power of the piece is in the many Pieces that must

find the ways to come together for a bigger picture: Power Pieces

Nagging nerves of the gut seek the guts to relax and trust.

The burden of relaxation finding its footing to let go in the duty.

Perspective from many, many pieces.

Rednecks joining blondes in kafkes;

Friends turning away from each other to greet and meet the new ones

Mother and Son, unsure; first-timers firing away to the local news

Leaders facing people even while cameras beckon

Spontaneous sparkles of facets finding form - crackling lights of communing consciousness.

What is the cost of conditioned incompetence?

As if to answer, Peace and love is menacing a malignant MAGA Muscle Car:

Squealing tires, burnt rubber, and laughter at the poverty of protesting against the messages of freedom

And so, we find each other’s power from our pieces:

Finding the follow-through in asking others what they can do.

—Warren Hilsbos

Something about that perfect bowl of noodles on 35th street at the end of a cold day. We marched, and sang, following our slightly comical pair of 70-something singalong leaders, Mr. A. wearing the huge, plush, Alice-In-Wonderland Uncle Sam hat and singing into the bad mic, barely audible over the competing crowd, and Mr. B., all in black, black shades, black tee, black cap, pulling the black shopping cart that hauled the portable black very large speaker. Our words got lost in the crowd, meandering across and occasionally aligning with the tunes from the pre-recorded tracks that scratched out from the over-taxed speaker.

OK. So we’ve all gathered again—did this a year ago—why do we let a year pass between these things? A year of insult and atrocity and destruction, and we gather across the country, 8 million strong, well-behaved citizens, and march and sing. We need to do more. It was good to use our voices, though, good to be there, with friends and with strangers, good to be there with New York, my New York, great blob of humanity and fellow-feeling. That was all good. But when are these bastards going to fall? Maybe we need to endure, witness, rebel, resist, interfere, withstand, lock arms, join hands, sit and stand and walk side by side. Accompany one another. Maybe the crumbling is already there, on the inside, growing little by little, while the outward appearance remains every more strident, ever more strained, every more shrill. Maybe the crumbling is already happening. Maybe it happens slowly at first, and then more quickly, and then all at once, a collapse. Then the years of undoing can begin. It won’t be the same, it will never be the same, but OK.

The restaurant afterward felt like an oasis. To share food is to share life, with the friends and strangers there. It didn’t matter what was said. It was enough to see your faces.

—Kent Shell

Thanks again to Warren and Kent!

If you’re new to BHWA. Here’s a reminder and details about our free Work Rooms, and the workshop I will be leading May 30 at the Taconic Ridge Farm. Hope to write with you soon!