Activism Is An Act of Love

Loving but also kickass...

Dear friends,

I have been (lovingly) accused of being a little 'woo woo' in my last newsletter where I waxed lyrical about the power of Love to guide us through these turbulent times. The entire time I was writing it, I figured it would come across as 'woo woo', but there's also loads o' science to back my assertions that expressing our love and appreciation for the natural world positively alters our personal chemistry while making the world an infinitely kinder environment.

The same day I posted that newsletter asking y'all to step up your Love game, I watched a video of Jess Craven asking us all to step outside our comfort zones and join phone banks to get voters registered and to the polls. Personally, I hate making phone calls, but even I was inspired by Jess' pep talk and vowed to volunteer to make calls in our upcoming municipal elections.

The thing is, Jess rightly pointed out that being uncomfortable making calls to ensure elections are fair is such a tiny little thing compared to what black folk faced during the Civil Rights movement when they were just trying to get the right to vote. She reminds us that black folk were beaten, murdered, arrested, attacked by dogs and had their homes burnt down all because they were demanding equal voting rights. And now the ultra-racist US Supreme Court has just ripped those hard-fought rights away. So, yeah, the least we can do is something slightly uncomfortable in order to help protect our diminishing democracy.

Stepping up while staying sane...

While what the world needs now truly is lots and lots of love, love is not all it needs. The world needs our love AND it needs a whole lotta seriously kick-ass activism (which hopefully comes from a place of love). I feel that this moment is asking us to find the middle ground between self-presesrvation and OHMYGODTHEHOUSEISONFIRE. As Kelly Hayes indicates, this fight against fascism is not a binary choice between marching in the streets every single day and curling up into the fetal position until it's over (and it will be over some day, but it's up to us to hasten its demise). We need to be loving and gentle with ourselves and everything around us (except the fascists, of course), but we also need to be noisy as fuck, super creative, and in strong community with other non-fascists. We need to step outside our comfort zone not to the point that it cripples us, but where it empowers us and helps us to protect the rights of our neighbours. What does that look like for you?

As the daughter of a Holocaust survivor...

One day, I hope I will no longer feel the need to rely on this sentence starter to justify my perspective. But, as the daughter of a Holocaust survivor, it is not lost on me that I am only one generation off having all my rights stripped and being thrown in a concentration camp because of my heritage/culture/faith/whatever. As the daughter of a Holocaust survivor, the pain and memories of that ethnic cleansing is in my bones, and makes me extra sympathetic to the black and brown and Indigenous folk (not to mention the Palestinians) who are watching their rights be removed from them by disgusting horrible racists. Brown folk are still being abducted every day and thrown in inhumane concentration camps where they face both physical and mental abuse, and far too many are dying. As the daughter of a Holocaust survivor, I wish that non-Jews had shown up en masse to say, "No fucking way are you harming my neighbours!" rather than turning a blind eye or, worse yet, joining the evil Nazis who gave voice and power to their underlying antisemitism. As the daughter of a Holocaust survivor, I feel I have an obligation to do whatever I possibly can to mitigate the harm being done to others, and right now the harm is massive and relentless, so, like everyone else taking action, I feel like I'm fighting on all fronts.

When the history books are written...

One thing that keeps me going is knowing that this will all come to an end. Fascism always collapses, though never soon enough. The Nazi terror ended. The Confederacy ended. Jim Crow ended. The Soviet Union folded. Orbán's authoritarian government was, against all odds, voted the hell out. None of it without a fight. We read about these eras in history books, applaud the heroes and seethe venom at the villains. We try to imagine what we would have done under Nazi/Soviet/Confederate rule. We hope that our ancestors were part of the Resistance rather than complying with or joining the Nazis. We hope that our ancestors supported the Civil Rights movement, not the KKK. We hope that our ancestors were part of the Underground Railroad, not paid to capture those who refused to be enslaved.

When the history books are written about these times we're in now, how will they write about us? Will our grandchildren read about the record breaking marches against tyranny and proudly state that "My grandma was part of that!"? Will our great grandchildren read about how the people showed up for each other over and over and over again until, together, they put an end to the cruelty and injustice, and smile knowing that their ancestors were part of that critical mass? Will our children tell their children that their parents saw the government trying to destroy everything and they were having none of it? What kind of ancestor do you want to be? How do you want to be remembered when this shitshow is shut down?

But what can I do???

I know that those of us who are paying attention feel hamstrung by grief, fear and outrage with each new atrocity coming at us. Ugh! But, if history is correct (it is), despite every attempt to convince us that we are powerless, we are actually really powerful, especially when we join together.

So, what can you do? Racism is on the rise and the Biggot-in-Chief and his white supremacist toadies have opened the floodgates for all the racists who were managing to (barely) keep their nasty thoughts to themselves. We need to let the racists know that we will absolutely not tolerate their behaviour. We can do this by writing and calling politicians, writing letters to the editor of our local paper, posting on social media, calling out every single racist remark you hear or read. Every time someone in your midst says something even slightly racist, you make sure they understand that this is not okay. Racists are noisy bastards. We need to be noisier.

At the same time, we also need to let our black and brown and Indigenous and trans folk know that we are here for them and ready to fight for them. Before our very eyes, we are seeing human rights revoked from these groups, and that is never ever acceptable. We must not accept this. We need to show up at protests. We need to join phone banks to make sure everyone gets to the polls. We need to show our solidarity every opportunity we get. If you are financially okay, please consider donating to organizations that are fighting the legal battles on behalf of those losing their rights. The people whose rights are being removed, who are under government-sanctioned assault need to know who their allies are. That's us!

Because we care.

I write these things to encourage you to take action because I care. And if you are reading this newsletter it's probably because you care too. I will never stop believing that there are infinitely more of us who care about justice and kindness and equality and love and decency than those whose lives are fuelled by hatred and fear. For far too long, the haters, the fear-mongers, the racists, the idiots, the assholes have blustered loudly and boldly, wreaking havoc wherever they go. Now it's our time to be loud and bold in our demands for justice, and to remind them that we are the many and they are the few and their time of sowing chaos with impunity is over. So many are counting on us to defend their rights. It's the least we can do.

I raise my voice with yours,

Jessica (she/her)

p.s. Please bear with me as we try to figure out how to keep you informed about your subscription status. Technology is not my strong suit.