On January 20, two voices that speak to our divided nation will be celebrated. Donald Trump and Martin Luther King Jr. The voice of the civil rights prophet spoke truth to power, the voice of the convicted felon speaks power to truth. In my lifetime power has usurped the truth. In my youth I could say with confidence, ”We hold these truths…” Those words now feel like ashes in my mouth. Self-evident truths are no longer recognized. The Capitol riots were a tourist stop, settled law regarding the right to an abortion is unsettled, and adherence to the Big Lie is the litmus test for public office. Power reprimands truth and I am an unwilling witness.

Coercive power uses violence as a tool to force others into compliance. The power to reward or punish employs wealth and status to extend or deny privilege. Both undermine relationships. Legal power, the influence exerted through election or selection has its limits. All power is used to assert a worldview. A valid use of power is one that is referent, that honors multiple perspectives and acknowledges human equality. American power must remain democratic and resist autocracy.

But soon a bully will be in charge of the playground and with a full-throated cry prepares to menace the most vulnerable. We know the stand-ins and the bludgeons he uses. We’ve been at recess before. But I hear another voice. In Shakespeare’s “Richard II,” King Richard on the eve of battle reflecting on the transient nature of power, observes that the antic scoffs at his state “and grinning at his pomp, allowing him a breath, a little scene, to monarchize, to be feared and kill with looks, infusing him with self and vain conceits … bores through his castle wall, and farewell, King.” Power is temporal some truths are not.

This sentiment is echoed in Bob Dylan’s “When the Ship Comes In” which he sang during the 1963 March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom. “And they’ll raise their hands, saying we’ll meet all your demands, but we’ll shout from the bow, your days are numbered. And like Pharaoh’s tribe, They’ll be drowned in the tide and like Goliath, they’ll be conquered.” When power speaks to truth, we must talk back. Martin Luther King Jr. along with Shakespeare and Dylan remind us that what we are about to experience is temporary. In a 1957 speech on voting rights, King affirmed, “There is something in the universe that justifies William Cullen Bryant in saying, truth crushed to earth will rise again.”

As I take to heart all this rhetorical support, the dark vision of a world snarled in tragic violence so powerfully rendered in Flannery O’Connor’s “The Violent Bear It Away” closes in upon us. In that world, The Stranger, a mysterious figure who appears throughout the novel concludes that you have to meet the moment and your destiny, and “can’t just say no, you have to do no.” So, this January 20, I will celebrate Martin Luther King Jr. and the slowly bending arc towards justice, and prepare to “do no.”

I am less interested in what Trump might say on Inauguration Day than what he might do, so I have already made a “no” list in mind. “No” to deportations that rip families and communities apart. No to federal pardons that will set free violent insurrectionists. No to politicizing human tragedy in California by refusing or delaying aid. No to tax breaks for the richest 1%. No to those who would deny a woman’s constitutional right to an abortion. No to those who don’t respect the dignity of the LGBTQ community. No to those who abuse the poor by lying to them, especially about universal health care. And no to those billionaires who put profit before people. It won’t be easy to stand up to power. But soon recess will be over, and the bullies will flee. Trump will pronounce his worldview on Inauguration Day. The worldview of Martin Luther King Jr. still exerts a compelling grip on our American character. Choose how you will celebrate.

Flags will be flown at half-mast on Inauguration Day, respecting the tradition of a thirty-day mourning after the death of a president. As soon as Trump is sworn in he can rescind Biden’s order. The irony will not be lost on me.

Jim Vacca is a retired English teacher who lived in Boulder for 30 years. Vacca is a member of the Camera’s Community Editorial Board. He lives in Louisville.