Man’s Search for Meaning in an Era of Fear and Oppression
There are days when my job as a counselor feels like standing in the eye of a storm. The world outside my sessions is shifting, twisting, darkening with the weight of policy changes that threaten the very people I serve. A new administration has taken power, and with it, sweeping changes are underway—changes that tell my LGBTQIA+ clients they are unworthy of equality, changes that tell survivors of sexual assault that their pain is a mere political inconvenience, changes that make many Latinos fear stepping outside their homes.
Week after week, I sit across from people whose lives are being squeezed by these forces. A trans client who wonders if the hormone therapy they rely on will be banned. A gay teacher who fears losing his job because his existence is now a “controversial topic.” A Latina mother who won’t go to the grocery store anymore because she’s heard too many stories of ICE raids in parking lots. A survivor of rape who tells me she could never report her assault because “women are not believed anyway, look at how they’re treated, look at how they’re mocked.”
It is relentless. And somewhere, deep in my own mind, I begin to wonder: how do I help them through this when I am just as afraid? How do I counsel resilience when my own hope is cracking under the weight of the same terror they describe?
Then, on Monday, in the middle of a session, a memory rises from the back of my mind like a lifeline thrown across deep water: Viktor Frankl. Man’s Search for Meaning.
I read it in graduate school, tucked into a syllabus somewhere between clinical techniques and crisis intervention. Frankl, a psychiatrist, survived the Holocaust—a time when human suffering was mechanized, efficient, and absolute. In the camps, he lost everything: his family, his freedom, his dignity. And yet, he emerged not just alive but with a message: suffering is inevitable, but meaning is something we create. No matter what is stripped away, the human mind has the power to choose its response.
Key take aways from Man’s Search for Meaning
- Suffering, in itself, is meaningless. What matters is the way we respond to it. Frankl saw people endure unimaginable horror, and yet, those who found a reason to live—love, faith, defiance—were the ones who survived.
- We cannot control everything, but we can control how we face it. Frankl described how even in the concentration camps, he made a choice: to hold onto his dignity, to imagine himself lecturing on what he was experiencing, to find small acts of rebellion in the face of total dehumanization.
- Finding meaning is not about happiness—it’s about purpose. Happiness is fleeting, external. Meaning is something deeper, something internal, something that cannot be stolen.
- Even in suffering, there is an opportunity to grow. Frankl wrote, “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.”
Applying these insights to our current reality, here are four existential perspectives that can help us navigate the political climate we find ourselves in:
Hold on to agency where you have it. We may not be able to single-handedly stop policy changes, but we can resist in our own ways. Whether that’s activism, voting, supporting others, or simply existing unapologetically, we must reclaim our power where we can.
Find meaning in the fight. If suffering is to be endured, let it be endured with purpose. Advocating for our communities, refusing to be erased, ensuring that we continue to exist in spaces that would prefer us gone—that is meaning.
Foster connection and community. Loneliness is a tool of oppression. They want us afraid and isolated. But as Frankl witnessed in the camps, even a small act of human kindness—sharing a crust of bread, offering a word of encouragement—was a light in the darkness.
Refuse to let them define reality. The world may try to tell my clients that they are less than, that they are criminals, that they are predators, that they are broken. But we must reject these lies. We must hold onto our truth: we are here, we are whole, and we are worthy.
Frankl survived one of history’s greatest horrors and emerged with a message that speaks directly to our moment. I don’t know what the next four years will bring. I don’t know how deep this country’s cruelty will cut. But I do know that we have the power to find meaning even in the worst of times.