Tag: shannon mahoney (page 1 of 1)

The Power of Friendship

“It’s us,” Shannon said when I wondered aloud some twenty years ago about who would fight for what’s right. She’s been gone for over a year now, but I’ve returned to her moral clarity again and again as we navigate the overwhelming selfishness that has always been a core part of the American psyche, but in this faux gilded age of Trumpism, is a genuine crisis.

Back in April, Sophie Haigney wrote that the word “courage” has fallen out of fashion because it requires you to have some kind of moral-based conviction.

The valorization of ‘high agency’ is emblematic of a moment when risk-taking is overvalued. It’s an ethos for a gambler’s time, and we’re living in one. ‘Courage’ has a moral valence that agency doesn’t. Agency is about action, but it tells us nothing of direction.

Even using the royal “we” in our fractured society feels as quaint and outdated as courage apparently is. But that kind of overwhelming selfishness is not a winning posture if you value your soul. And, more importantly, if you value and respect those around you, near and far, you know that what we need more of is earnest courageousness in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds. 

Even if we’ve fallen out of the habit of using the word, the folks who have been out in the streets doing the work to protect their neighbors against ICE over the last year have shown nothing but courage. For those of us who haven’t become stuck on the perch of skepticism and cynicism that so dominates our hyper-individualized media consumption, we can recognize those who stand up and do the right thing because it’s the right thing to do. Sometimes they do so individually, but collective action seems most effective in this age of “high agency” individuals who seem to value only fealty to getting rich and getting over.

Maybe that’s why the 2026 New York Knickerbockers winning has been such a euphoria-inducing victory. Ever since their come-from-behind win in Game 5 of the NBA Finals—their first championship in 53 years—a meme has been circulating online. In it, the joke is that the Knicks defeated a stacked, favored San Antonio Spurs team with the “Power of Friendship.”

Meme showing a large figure in San Antonio Spurs gear labeled "3 top five picks, best player since Wilt, Champagne legacy game" beside a small figure in pink New York Knicks gear labeled "The power of friendship."

The image makes light of that collective power but, historically, movements built on courageous, unified, collective action filled with belief, determination, and an unwavering will to win, not just for self but even more so for each other, are celebrated as the greatest when they finally break through. Throughout their historic playoff run, Knicks players repeatedly talked about their effort being driven by a desire to see each other win and by their commitment to their fans and the city of New York. You would think that in a team sport, that kind of sentiment would be common, but given how high the monetary stakes are, that kind of selflessness is consistently usurped by showcasing what one can do individually.

I think we’re off individual profiles of courage, though. We’ve been starving for that “We Shall Overcome” energy. Individualized action, absent any grounding humanistic principles, is the claimed modus operandi of the power brokers in our society. 

Rebecca Solnit has been arguing that “maybe the community is the next hero.” As the five boroughs come together to celebrate their conquering basketball team this week, I think she’s right. Because part of the “Impossible Joy” surrounding the way the Knicks won is that it’s validation of something community-centered folks want to believe. If that long-doubted team could do it, then we can, too. We, the people, can win together and do the hard things not merely because we can but because we must.

There’s no soul in doing only for self. The consequence of doing nothing is untenable.

I’d been searching for new language that effectively describes this idea of collective courage. Solidarity is where I keep ending up, but it doesn’t quite cut it. 

Maybe I should stop looking. Shannon already provided the perfect terms. 

Us.

It’s us.

The Power of Friendship wins again.

Burn Bright

The night we learned of her passing in February, blue and red fireworks burst over Universal Studios. As I drove down Olive Avenue, I thought of Shannon Mahoney—her shockingly cerulean eyes and crimson locks blazed with the same fierce energy. She was a force of joy, righteousness, friendship, and fight. The sky would be streaked with light a few more times before I turned right on Alameda, and the Burbank skyline obscured my view. I smiled. I sighed. I let the tears dry on their own.

That day, we sat in shock, spun records, shared stories, and acknowledged that life can slip away at this age, not to a calamity or a villain, but simply because it is time. There’s nothing to rail against, be angry with, or blame. Our friend was gone—and that truth still takes my breath away.

Yesterday, we gathered again for her memorial service in Hayward, California. Person after person who spoke mentioned her fierceness. That was her way. Anna shared that Shannon once pushed her into the bushes because she was concerned about a suspicious white van parked further up their path. As her brother Dallon said, she lived her values. 

All that was on display the last time I saw Shannon: in San Diego in May of last year for Anna’s surprise birthday. The whole event and weekend were great, but seeing Shannon was the highlight. I hadn’t seen my friend since before the pandemic, but being in her presence always felt like coming home. We hugged, laughed, and caught up like no time had passed.

Time does pass, however. I still can’t believe that someone so full of life, generous of spirit, and necessary in today’s fractured world is gone. Who picks up where she left off?

I’m reminded of some twenty years ago when I was then, just as now, lamenting the state of American politics. “Why is there no one willing to fight for what’s right? Who will speak up for the least of us?” I said.

With those piercing eyes and that well-defined clarity of purpose, Shannon didn’t miss a beat.

“It’s us.”

Her answer wasn’t just a rebuke but a call to action. We shouldn’t look for others to bring forth a just world full of radical empathy and fiery love for one another; we only need to be willing to pick up the torch.

It’s us—burn bright, spark joy, and be great by doing good, just like Shannon Sheila Mahoney.