Each day brings more bad news. I am a retired law professor used to viewing the daily news from a distance. I care deeply about the state of the world, my country and my state, but fluctuations in foreign and domestic policy have rarely touched me directly. All that changed on Jan. 20. Despite the privileges and protections I am granted as a white, financially comfortable U.S. citizen, the relentless blows from the White House over the past few months have struck close to home. So, even if the existential threats to our democracy or the daily cruelty to our most vulnerable have not moved you, you might need to start paying attention.

I’ll start closest to home — my four adult children. Two of them are lawyers — one in Big Law and one a public defender. I worry about the attacks on my son’s law firm and how it will affect him in both the short and long term. The Public Service Loan Forgiveness program that allows my daughter to work at a high-need, low-paying job while managing law school loans is on the chopping block. Another daughter, traveling in the Middle East as part of a Ph.D. program, is at risk due to the escalating violence in that part of the world because of Trump’s threats against Palestinians, Yemen and Iran. My youngest child works for a foundation supporting critical cancer research by “filling in the gaps” when National Institutes of Health grants fall short. Instead of celebrating the amazing leaps in cancer treatment, they are struggling to help keep labs open while rethinking their mission.

I have lots of worries about my grandchildren growing up in a world where protecting the environment, demonstrating compassion for others and maintaining ethics in government have all but disappeared in Washington. But my more immediate concern is how a baby and a toddler, just beginning their vaccination schedules, will fare with a confirmed measles case in a neighboring county and anti-vaxxers running our major health agencies.

One step removed from my children and grandchildren is my broad network of former students and other mentees in the legal profession. I have heard from some, among the best and the brightest, whose offers to work in the honors programs in various federal agencies have been rescinded. Others in probationary positions doing outstanding work have been fired. Still others, more long-term employees, have found themselves moved to distant buildings without parking, computers and, in one case, running water. I worry for these smart, hardworking young people and the future of the rule of law.

My husband and I are among the least vulnerable, but these relentless reversals in policy have changed our daily lives in tangible ways. We live in a small town that has been, like many others, adversely affected by climate change. A local lab — a federal, state and local collaboration — has been working on a project to prevent the recurring flooding and shoreline erosion in areas I travel along daily. Recently, two of the marine scientists involved were abruptly let go, leaving its future in limbo and potentially wasting the time and money already invested. Those scientists were two more neighbors who have lost their jobs. The work I do for a local nonprofit serving immigrant families has changed, given the dire needs of the families who rely on us. The declining stock market has, of course, led to declining retirement savings. And a recent call to the local Social Security office to check on my Medicare payments included a hold time of over an hour, leaving me with concerns about the future of that income stream as well.

To be clear, this is not a plea for sympathy for millennial professionals or their comfortable parents. Nothing I have described comes close to the harms that have been inflicted on millions of people who are more seriously and directly being hurt every day — immigrants deported or living in fear of it, federal workers who have lost jobs in mid- or late career, patients who have lost access to life-saving drugs, and so many more. But if you’re thinking of sitting this one out because of the invulnerability you normally feel, think again. Our fates are interconnected. And even the many and deep protections your race, wealth and citizenship have always afforded you may not be enough to protect you this time around.

Jane C. Murphy is the Laurence Katz Professor Emerita at the University of Baltimore School of Law. She lives in Oxford, Maryland.