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MY POV - The streets of Los Angeles are filled with smoke again, not from wildfires, but from tear gas. Helicopters hum over Boyle Heights and Echo Park. Demonstrators raise banners that read “No One Is Illegal,” “Cancel the Raids,” and “Care Not Cages.”
Over 200 people have been arrested protesting the Trump administration’s expanded ICE operations, the forced removal of unhoused communities, and the criminalization of mutual aid. The city has become both a stage and a mirror. What’s unfolding in LA is not an anomaly. It’s a signal.
As America slides deeper into authoritarianism, as surveillance expands and dissent is punished, we must ask: How do we resist? How do we show up, not just in LA, but everywhere?
To orient ourselves in this storm, I turn to birds, not as decoration but as a metaphor. Birds symbolize instinct, movement, adaptation, and freedom, all of which are under siege at this moment.
Below are ten archetypes of resistance, ways we, as individuals and communities, respond when democracy trembles.
The Ostrich: The Temptation to Look Away
Even as protesters fill the streets, some look the other way. They stop watching the news. They scroll past images of raids and beatings. “It’s too much,” they say.
The ostrich is the neighbor who doesn’t ask questions when ICE vans appear, the elected official who remains silent during crackdowns, or the friend who says they’re “just tired of politics.”
This retreat, often rooted in fear or burnout, is understandable. But dangerous. When good people disengage, injustice accelerates.
Rest is sacred. But withdrawal must not become a lifestyle.
The Vulture: Feeding on Collapse
Some don’t want to stop Trump; they want to outmaneuver him.
Vultures hover over the wreckage, looking for a chance to profit.
In LA, vultures show up as developers exploiting displacement. Pundits spinning outrage into ad revenue. Political actors using suffering as a platform.
Vultures can expose decay. But without solidarity, critique is hollow. Resistance must be more than branding. It must be rooted in justice.
The Crow: Tactical, Local, Relentless
Crows are clever. Loyal. Builders. They protect their own.
In MacArthur Park this week, crows took action, legal observers taking notes, medics tending wounds, undocumented organizers risking arrest to shield their neighbors. They handed out water bottles, know-your-rights flyers, and N95 masks.
Crows win by outlasting the storm. Their resistance is sustainable, strategic, and grounded in collective care. We need fewer peacocks and more crows.
The Eagle: The Moral North Star
Eagles soar above the noise, moved by clarity of vision.
In the LA streets, the eagle is the poet reading Neruda through a bullhorn. The clergy forming human chains. The teachers walking out with their students.
Eagles resist not from rage alone, but from love—love of truth, of justice, of each other. They remind us what we’re fighting for, not just what we oppose.
But eagles must stay grounded. Ideals require infrastructure. Beauty must pair with boldness. Vision needs a vehicle.
The Swallow: Flying with the Strongest Wind
Swallows move in formation, not for courage, but for safety. They follow power. They crave order. They want things to “go back to normal.”
You’ll hear the swallow in voices saying, “I don’t want to lose my job by speaking up.” Or “Maybe Trump’s policies aren’t so bad.” Or “I just want peace.”
This quiet compliance is the dream of every authoritarian. Swallows don’t shout. But they enable, through silence, through denial, through delay.
The Parrot: Echoing Without Understanding
Parrots mimic what they hear, without reflection.
The parrot archetype is the protester who recites slogans but avoids hard questions. The influencer posting infographics with no context. The activist who performs awareness but flees accountability.
In an age of viral content, parroting can do harm. Speech matters, but only when rooted in truth, curiosity, and courage.
The Dove: Peace Without Disruption
Doves long for harmony. But sometimes, they rush it.
The dove appears in those who say, “We just need to come together,” even as neighbors are deported, evicted, and imprisoned.
They urge “healing” before justice. “Dialogue” before truth. “Unity” before change.
Their intentions are gentle. But when peace is offered without accountability, it becomes appeasement. There is no reconciliation without repair.
The Woodpecker: The Relentless Reformer
Woodpeckers chip away steadily, loudly, persistently.
They are the public defenders, policy wonks, FOIA filers, and union organizers. They don’t always get the headlines. But they change the terrain.
In a culture addicted to spectacle, the woodpecker reminds us that real change is often slow, unglamorous, and essential. Every hammering beak counts.
The Phoenix: The Radical Rebirth
Some systems can’t be reformed. They must be burned down and rebuilt.
The phoenix lives in the heart of the abolitionist vision. It rises from the ashes with mutual aid, new institutions, and new myths.
In LA, the phoenix is seen in community fridges. Pop-up schools. Neighborhood assemblies. Artists reclaiming space with murals and music.
Phoenixes don’t fear collapse; they prepare for it.
The Hummingbird: The Invisible Healer
Tiny. Fast. Almost unseen. The hummingbird gives sweetness where there is none.
They are the caretakers. The cooks. The child-minders. The mental health workers and hotline volunteers. The ones who refill the protester’s water bottle and stay behind to clean up the mess.
The hummingbird reminds us that sustaining life is resistance.
Without them, the rest falls apart.
So… What Kind of Bird Will You Be?
The demonstrations in Los Angeles are not just about LA. They’re about us, and how we respond when fear rises and freedoms recede.
The archetype you choose, today, tomorrow, in this season of reckoning, will shape the democracy we inherit.
Will we bury our heads, or lift them?
Wait for collapse, or build through it?
Fly alone, or in fierce, noisy flocks?
None of us is just one bird. We move through these roles. But the moment asks us to choose, deliberately, audaciously, now.
(George Cassidy Payne is a writer, social ethicist, and suicide prevention counselor. He is a frequent contributor to City Watch LA.)
