Don’t keep trauma bottled up: Stickers as unexpected tools of the resistance

We place stickers on things that matter to us: places we want to see again, places we want (even need) others to notice something.

In many ways, stickers have become their own form of communication. We reward kindness and achievement with them. Mark every item we mail with them. Announce our name and affiliation to the room with them. We them to share everything from art to inspiring messages to lifesaving warnings.

This made them a natural choice as the first promotional item1 for my publication. After pouring my heart, humor, and thoroughly-researched hyperfixation into my writing, I wanted a tangible way to help my work in advocacy journalism reach those who could benefit most:

• The woman crying in a brewery bathroom after yet another fight with her emotionally abusive partner. Years from now, she'll realize he'd started the fight to get her to pick up his exorbitant bar tab.
• The introverted bisexual putting themselves out there attending their first event at a local queer coffee shop. You're crushing it, darling.
• The chronically ill climber who longs for community, but can only stand to go to the gym during off hours when no one is there.

When our own government is hellbent on dividing and isolating us, finding ways to connect matters. As civil rights, social supports, and education are attacked on all sides, sharing resources with those most at risk becomes an essential form of mutual aid. As corrupt systems and censored media twist reality and try to convince us this suffering is normal, neighbors are enemies, and war is inevitable; building community is an act of loving resistance.

To all those in our country and across the world being harmed by what’s happening in the United States: you have a friend here.

Recovery with flavor: Sticking it to abusers (and abusive systems)

As my partner and I brainstormed something that’d convey all this to a stranger while also inspiring them to scan a random QR code they found stuck to a lightpole, we naturally got sidetracked researching the history of stickers as a form of graffiti art.

Stickers became popular among writers and artists in the 80’s for their convenience, affordability, and portability. Over time, etiquette and debates have evolved over displaying and trading them. Their collectibility has served as an effective way to spread awareness of art and counterculture movements.

No wonder I’ve felt so inspired by this project. Stickers are subversive, exciting ways of connecting with those who may be feeling isolated. A little cultural secret handshake, winking to those who are in on it while welcoming others to discover something new.

Those symbols of connection matter; especially when we're up against systems with power to limit information and make us feel like we’re fighting alone.

I’m miles ahead of myself, but the thought of possibly one day spotting a sticker of mine in the wild would be so moving. It’d show me my words are reaching exactly who they need to and impacting them enough to want to share.

Symbols of connection matter; especially when we're up against systems with power to limit information and make us feel like we’re fighting alone.

My hope in sharing these is for my publication to find its way to places algorithms can't reach—connecting survivors who are so often isolated with compassion and community. We will always find ways to reach one another.

I hope to become a trusted sauce of information as we get through this defining moment in our country together (please don’t block me for that, I had about 57 more puns I held back on you’re welcome).

Should you happen to find me through one of my stickers: whether you continue reading or not, I hope you felt safe with me here for a moment.

Want to help leave a mark? Drop ideas for creative places I can share (or stick) these in the comments. I may just have a few to give away!