Showing Up for Each Other

Showing Up for Each Other

September 21, 2026

An Idaho State Police trooper closes the door to the governor’s office. It is five o’clock on an April afternoon, and nine people are sitting on the floor of the entryway. They have come to ask Governor Little to veto a bill that would make life harder for transgender Idahoans. The governor will not see them. The trooper takes out the handcuffs.

Each of the nine people had a way out of that entryway. They all sat on the floor anyway, staying until they were arrested. We call that allyship, though the word feels smaller than the act. 

Five months later, two miles from the governor’s office, Boise Pride celebrated its thirty-seventh year. The theme was “Louder Than Fear.” Think about what it means to put the word fear in the title of a celebration. Then notice the other word: louder. Fear may be present, but it does not get the only voice. It gets answered by people who show up. For three days, Boise answered with a parade through town, a park full of performers and community organizations, and thousands of neighbors who came to celebrate and raise their voices together.

A door closed against nine people. A park filled with thousands.

Transgender Idahoans are living with fear right now. So are many other neighbors, because of who they are, where they come from, how they look, or the way they move through the world. For anyone paying attention, outrage comes easily in a time like this. So does paralysis. Showing up for one another is a way through both.

Being loud, it turns out, has almost nothing to do with volume. It means being unmistakable. It means that when someone looks around a room to see who is with them, they do not have to wonder about you. That requires staying curious about people whose experiences don’t look like yours. It requires paying attention to who is comfortable in the spaces you have some say over — whether that is an office, a classroom, or a kitchen table. And it requires joy. Boise Pride was a party for a reason. Outrage burns out fast, and this work of showing up for each other has to last. 

We can’t sit on the floor outside the governor’s office or march in a Pride parade every day. But we can always show up for each other. Sometimes showing up means staying when it would be easier to leave. Sometimes it means asking a question, making room, speaking up, or simply making sure someone knows they are not alone. These acts may look small. Together, this is how a community grows louder than fear.