Queen Bees & Our Future

Christine Merser, April 21, 2025

I know. I know. Who knew?

When a hive loses its queen, the only one capable of giving life to the colony, chaos doesn’t break out. Life slows. The future dims. Extinction looms within weeks. But the bees don’t panic. They don’t wait for rescue. They act.

(If it were U.S. humans in the hive, we’d probably form a committee, issue a press release, and then blame each other while the hive collapsed. Bees just get to work.)

Ordinary worker bees choose ordinary larvae—the same as all the others—and feed them a rare, potent diet: royal jelly. (I didn’t delve into what makes that, but for our purposes, to make this a metaphor for our future, this would be gathering new ways to change our system.) This shift changes everything. In a matter of days, the chosen larva becomes something extraordinary. Larger, stronger, destined to rule rather than serve. Not born different—made different.

A queen is not chosen based on bloodline or destiny. She is created through nurture, care, and a deliberate decision to invest in potential. It’s as if, in human society, an ordinary child could be made into an extraordinary leader, not by genetics or luck, but through support, environment, and belief.

This metamorphosis doesn’t just save one bee. It saves the entire hive. A new queen restores life, lays the future back into the comb, and the cycle of renewal begins again, stronger and wiser.

There’s a silent lesson here. In times of crisis, survival doesn’t come from despair. It comes from clarity, care, and courageous cultivation of new paths—and the people brave enough to walk them. Just as in the hive, in this moment we are now facing, it may not matter who you were at the beginning. What matters is how you are lifted when it counts, and who dares to believe that transformation is possible.

So, this means we invest, not in the Chuck Schumers of the world, but rather the people like the Governor of Maine, Janet Trafton Mills. Yep. Support her. Tell your governor to support her publicly. Follow her social media. Tell your friends. We all have a megaphone. Stop using it in the usual ways. Use it around humans who are winning—and they are. Many are.

I wrote a piece about how during the first term of DT, the ACLU was the most efficient and effective at combatting his destruction. (You can read it here if you’re looking for real examples of megaphone-worthy work.)

Royal Jelly. Only for us, it’s American Jam.

Sticky, messy, impossible to ignore—and packed with the energy to start again.

We are in a jam … but we can do this. Just think of the bees. And, might I also say with pride in my gender, that there are a lot of women doing good work right now. Protect them.

The other image of the beehive that comes to mind is that there is only one Queen Bee, and thousands of bees in the hive protect her at all cost. We must protect those who are standing tall, and risking a lot to do it. Protect those who are being threatened. Let this government know that they are sadly mistaken if they think they can shut down Harvard because Harvard isn’t buying it.

I love that it was a Queen Bee instead of a King Bee. Not in love with kings right now. Enough said.