That experience changed him. Even after being deactivated, he still drives an hour each way, several times a week, to keep helping as the city and its residents rebuild. That’s who he is. And yeah, I’m tearing up just thinking about it. I am so incredibly proud of him.

He signed up to serve his community, not to be a pawn in President Donald Trump’s fascist cosplay. But now? His unit has been activated again, and this time not to help people.

You can’t imagine the rage I feel.

Trump has spent his entire presidency railing against dissent. Now that he’s losing in Congress, in the courts, and in the court of public opinion, he’s escalating—using peaceful protests as a pretext for his dream of military dictatorship.

In January, my son and his fellow first responders were welcomed by Southern Californians with food, gifts, and gratitude. Today, Trump is sending them into those same communities as symbols of repression. He’s destroyed the goodwill they built—and he doesn’t care.

He wants confrontation. He wants escalation. He wants violence, because he thinks it gives him license to go even further.

Trump is trying to break this country before it breaks him.

I’m scared for my son. But I’m proud. Proud of him. Proud of this community. Proud of the people in the streets refusing to back down. This moment feels inevitable. We saw it coming. We warned it was coming. We hoped it wouldn’t, but now it’s here.

So yes, I’m scared. But I’m also burning with righteous fury. And that fury is stronger than Trump’s cruelty or the bloodlust of his followers.

Let’s fuck Trump up.