Call for contributions to the next curated zine in my “series” to counter this christofascist era:

“The Heart Is a Muscle:
XX Embodiments of Antifascist Grief”

Length: approx. 75 to 250 words
Due: by or before August 1
Email: cbmilstein [at] yahoo [dot] com

Of late—or rather, for many months—it feels sadly routine to get one or several texts daily in which a friend, old or new, says: “I’m struggling.” Those two words are like clockwork in their regularity, as if counting out how the days, hours, or seconds of these sadistic times tear at our very souls. They are followed, invariably, by more detail of why that particular person is struggling, and how much it’s breaking their body, heart, and spirit. And while each “I’m struggling” is an individual story, there are patterns among these tales that transcend a lone experience, revealing a collective impact that can be summarized, I’d argue, in one word.

Grief.

“Grief” is shorthand for the impossible-to-summarize mountains of our losses, which in turn carve out rivers of rage and seas of sorrow. It’s healthy, given all of this, to know one is struggling. It means you still have a heart and are busily exercising that muscle. And by sending off a *simple* text or leaving a voicemail or penning a letter or posting on social media that you’re having a rough go of it, you’re showing others that you still have a heart, and you’re being met in turn by those who still have a heart too, and together, our grief is held by our love.

For we only grieve what we love, and despite the slogan “grief is love with no place to go,” it does take us places; it does have a place to go.

Through grief-as-love, we can find each other, naming the dimensions of how we embody antifascist mourning, so we can share and cope with it. We can take better care of each other, whether via communal rituals, social solidarity, or community self-defense. Grief can fuel our resolve and generate new ways to struggle against fascism.

Long story short: I’m seeking your musings on how you’re embodying your antifascist grief—what it feels like, where it leads you, with whom, and/or how.

For previous (free and downloadable!) zines in this series, see:

https://itsgoingdown.org/author/cindy-milstein/

#RebelliousMourning
#CollectiveWorkOfGrief
#DirectActionOfTheAggrieved

(photo: circle A heart, tag, Montreal, 2025)