Hero Training: Listening Without Losing Your Mind

How to Stay Human in a Polarized World

Last week, my nephew showed me the Jubilee episode featuring Mehdi Hasan and a panel of 20 far-right individuals. I’d seen it circulating online earlier, but felt a strong resistance to watching it—maybe because I already anticipated how exhausting it would be. But when my nephew asked me to watch it with him, I knew I couldn’t avoid it any longer.

When I finally did, I honestly couldn’t believe these panelists were real people - that’s how extreme some of their views were. Unfortunately, they are real—and they represent a growing subset of people in the Western world, especially since the rise of Donald Trump. This isn’t just fringe anymore—it’s a symptom of something deeper festering in society.

At the same time, I found myself a little frustrated by the constant use of the word "fascism" from people on the left. It started to feel like anyone who didn’t perfectly align with their ideology was being labeled a fascist. I even joked about creating a drinking game: take a shot every time you hear someone say fascist on social media. But let’s be real—if I played that game, I’d be drunk by noon.

It made me wonder—how did we get here? How did “fascism” become a word we throw around so casually, even though it's supposed to describe something so serious?

The truth is, many people don’t actually understand what fascism is. We know it’s bad. We associate it with Hitler, Mussolini, and authoritarian regimes—but beyond that? It gets murky. Somewhere along the way, fascism became shorthand for “anything I disagree with,” which completely waters down its historical and political meaning.

Perhaps my frustration also stems from my own ignorance—I hadn’t fully recognized how fascism has been quietly growing over the years, and I found myself dismissing the many times the word was thrown around. But when a word is overused, it loses its impact—and that, too, can be dangerous.

Don’t get me wrong—some of the views expressed on that Jubilee panel were genuinely alarming. But not everything deserves the same label. We need better language. More precision. More curiosity about what’s really driving people to such extremes. Is it fear? Is it pain? Is it propaganda? Or is it simply a lack of meaningful connection and purpose?

I don’t have all the answers. But I do know this: reducing people to labels—on either side—makes it easier to stop listening. And the minute we stop listening, the cycle just continues: more division, more shouting, more fear.

Here’s the Jubilee episode for your viewing pleasure—but fair warning: some of the views expressed are genuinely disturbing and reflect a deeper issue in society—namely, the rise of regressive, extremist thinking. One man openly admitted he had rage issues and, confusingly, claimed to be Native American despite being of European descent. Another blatantly told Mehdi Hasan—an American citizen—that he didn’t belong in the country and should leave. And one participant proudly called himself a fascist, saying he supported autocracy because he believed he’d be among the few who wouldn’t be targeted or killed under such a regime.

You can literally see how exhausted and disheartened Mehdi becomes throughout the episode. When you're surrounded by people with deeply entrenched views, it’s nearly impossible to have a meaningful conversation—because most aren’t listening to understand, they’re listening to win. It made me realize: Jubilee likely hand-picked these panelists to generate tension and controversy—which, of course, leads to more views. And while they succeeded in that, the troubling reality is this: these people exist, and their movements are growing.

That brings me to something I came across last week.

One of the content creators I follow, who covers current events and political shifts, posted a story about a group in America that’s choosing to separate from mainstream society. They’re building intentional villages—focused on self-sufficiency, homeschooling their children, growing their own food, and creating a tight-knit community.

To be honest, these are all things I’ve dreamed of doing myself - I am very much open to finding a community that is doing something similar.

But here’s the kicker: I wouldn’t be allowed in.

This particular community is only open to people of European descent—which, as someone of Filipino heritage, I clearly am not.

As I read through the comments on that particular video, I noticed many people didn’t see the community as a problem—as long as they “kept to themselves” and didn’t hurt anyone. I understand the appeal of wanting to be self-sufficient and unplug from mainstream society. But it’s an entirely different story when a group chooses to exclude people based on their ethnicity or sexual orientation.

That’s no longer just about freedom or independence—that’s about upholding systems of division.

History shows us that when extreme views are allowed to fester unchecked, bad things tend to happen.

So I decided to look a little deeper. I found their website, along with a short documentary someone had made about the community. What I saw both confirmed my concerns—and sparked more questions.

I listened to the entire video with an open mind and heart—and I’ll be honest, there were moments that stirred compassion in me… and others that truly scared the bejesus out of me.

Some of the women in the community spoke vulnerably about how, over the past five years, they’ve felt increasingly out of place in mainstream society. They shared that they no longer felt safe—especially for the sake of their children—simply because they were white.

And while I don’t agree with many of the conclusions they’ve drawn, I do recognize a deeper pain underneath: a fear of being misunderstood, misrepresented, and cast aside.

It reminded me of something I noticed during the height of the BLM movement. There was a moment—especially in certain corners of social media—where white people were being generalized as inherently privileged or complicit, even villianized for simply being white. Some people even internalized what felt like “white guilt” to the point of disassociating from their own identity or feeling shame about their families.

To be clear: the conversations around systemic racism, privilege, and accountability are essential. But when they’re delivered without nuance or compassion, they can alienate people who might otherwise be willing to listen, grow, and contribute to healing and therefore creating stronger, more diverse yet cohesive communities.

What I saw in that video was a mix of people—some looking for healing and safety, and others clearly falling into a dangerous form of racial separatism disguised as sovereignty.

Two men in particular deeply disturbed me. One of them hesitated when asked if the Holocaust was a crime against humanity or if it should have never happened. The other—reportedly the leader of the community—outright said that Hitler was simply “misunderstood.”

These aren't just controversial opinions. These are dangerous beliefs rooted in racial supremacy. It’s not just about wanting to separate from mainstream society—it’s a worldview that positions one group as inherently superior to others. And history has shown us, time and again, that when people start to believe they are more deserving of life, land, or power simply because of their race, it opens the door to unthinkable violence.

This isn’t just about ideological differences—this is about protecting human dignity and ensuring that we never normalize rhetoric that dehumanizes others.

Here is Mehdi’s response to his experience on Jubilee, captured in an interview with Piers Morgan. I chose this particular conversation—not the ones he had with MSNBC or even Jon Stewart—because Piers plays devil’s advocate. Rather than meeting Mehdi’s concerns with empathy or outrage, Piers downplays the severity of what was said to him, offering a detached, almost dismissive tone.

And that’s exactly what makes this interview so telling.

It reflects a much deeper issue: when someone calmly and clearly articulates the trauma of being on the receiving end of hate, and that pain is brushed off in the name of “balance” or “just playing both sides,” we miss an opportunity to confront what’s really happening. We normalize extremism by minimizing its impact. And we put the burden of justification on those who are being harmed.

This exchange between Mehdi and Piers reminded me how often people are expected to tolerate and explain away their pain for the comfort of others. And how often real warning signs are ignored—until it’s too late.

As someone of Filipino descent, I went into this with curiosity and a genuine desire to understand. I know what it feels like to be “othered.” And maybe that’s why this hit me so deeply. There’s a difference between wanting to live in harmony with nature and community—and choosing to live in echo chambers where exclusion and superiority become guiding values.

We are at a crossroads right now. Around the world, more and more people are returning to the land, seeking self-sufficiency, healing, and freedom from toxic systems. This instinct is beautiful and necessary. But it also invites a question:

What are we building? And who are we building it for?

It’s one thing to unplug from society. It’s another to recreate its most harmful ideologies in the woods under the illusion of purity.

For this Superhero Monday, I want to leave you with this: We need more brave hearts—not just those who speak up, but those willing to listen with discernment. Eyes wide open. Feet rooted. Spirit soft but strong.

Because the new world we’re dreaming of will require both courage and compassion.

What we need is a new kind of courage. Not just the courage to speak, but the courage to listen. Not the kind of listening where you're just waiting to prove someone wrong, but real listening—where you’re genuinely curious about how someone got to where they are.

Maybe then we can start healing some of these fractures.

Sorry for the heavy post to start the week, but heroes show up to listen deeply to what’s happening in the world—and then figure out how to move forward from there. My intention isn’t to bring the vibes down, but to inspire us to create waves together. Because that’s how real change begins.

Sending much love and power to you, dear Hero 💞 Let's have a powerful week, leading to the 8/8 Lionsgate Portal!