Why we write letters (march, protest, resist...)

My friend Anne and I are both chronic letter writers, and we often share things we've written with each other. Anne frequently has her letters published in the Globe & Mail which must feel somewhat validating. Anne also informs me that her mother who is turning 95 in a couple of months, writes dozens of letters a month for Amnesty International.  And she’s writing Premier Doug Ford constantly. Anne comes by her letter-writing honestly! Like me, Anne seldom receives a satisfactory response from any of the politicians we email on a regular basis. Unlike me, Anne gets frustrated by this. As she says (even though she's not much older than I am) "I am old enough to remember the day when you actually got a personal reply from a cabinet minister!" This is definitely no longer the case, but it doesn't mean that our letters are not important in the fight for change.

After sharing our more recent letters to Prime Minister Mark Carney, pleading with him to go beyond just issuing 'strong words' against Israel's horrific genocide, Anne emailed me expressing her frustration at what feels like our futile attempts to advocate for peace in Palestine.

Hi Jessica,

I read yours and my letters, and I think, how fucking naive we are, to spend hours composing perfectly thought-out arguments, addressed to vacant addressees who are at any given moment in meetings with their fellow bankers, lawyers, oil company CEOs, big pharma buddies, labour union busters, and weapons exporters.

I mean, she's probably not wrong. If I look too closely, I can definitely see her point. But, I am not one to give in to cynicism, and I believe one of my jobs here on this planet is to help my friends avoid tumbling into the pits of despair as best I can. Here is my response to Anne's email:

My dear friend, Anne,

This is where you get to picture me in a tiny little cheerleader outfit, wildly waving pom-poms for each and every one us who is playing our part in The Great Resistance. (Sorry, now you’ll never un-see that!).

Why we write letters to politicians:

I recently had coffee with Laurel Collins’ constituency assistant Alex. I asked her to tell me exactly what happened with alllllll those emails that were sent to Laurel. Here’s what she said, in a nutshell: The office elves (my word, not hers) would read them, sort them according to whether they’re form letters or written by individuals such as ourselves, and according to subject matter. They would report to Laurel on how many emails they were receiving according to type and subject . They would choose the more pertinent emails (like what we send) for Laurel to read and they would respond according to her instructions. Laurel being Laurel, of course, would take extra care with emails, and often compose her own responses.  All this to say that our letters are probably/possibly not disappearing into the void and are, at least being counted, if not heeded. The more emails a politician receives on a specific topic, the more they need to pay attention.

We write letters because this is one of our stronger skills (not everyone feels capable of writing like we do) and holding governments accountable takes all of us doing whatever we can to demand good behaviour from our elected officials. Every letter we write is another drop in the Bucket of Resistance which can only fill to capacity because of each individual drop added. It’s that critical mass theory in action and you & I with our chronic letter-writing are an important part of building the critical mass required to create change.

Change, especially the kind we are desperate to see, is unfortunately, always incremental, but not impossible. We are seeing Carney grow more balls around Gaza and that is only because of every one of us who has been shouting, marching, writing, protesting… Eventually we will be collectively too noisy to ignore. We’re getting noisier every day and it’s starting to work. It is beyond time and never enough, but I can only imagine how horrific the situation would be if we had not been demanding an end to this genocide. It is vital that, as futile as it may feel at times, we keep hounding our politicians until they listen.

We also write letters to share with our friends and community so that they are reminded that there are more of us speaking out and standing up to injustice. Our letters often speak, not just for ourselves, but for the many people who read them. We write letters for those who share our thoughts/feelings but can’t find the words to express them. Our letters empower our community, and we all need to empower each other in these times.

Finally, we write letters because - at least in my own case - I would probably burst with fury and/or become immobilized with grief if I didn’t spew my thoughts in the direction of those who have the power to do something. Emailing politicians is cheaper than therapy, and possibly (hopefully) more productive. 

So, no - I don’t think we’re being fucking naive. It would be naive to expect our letters to produce the changes we want when we want them (last year, last week, yesterday, NOW!), but, as Rebecca Solnit often points out - we typically don’t see change until we look back. I feel certain that our letters are playing an important part in the long, slow road to peace & justice.

I hope this helps and isn’t too PollyAnna-ish for you.
Jessica

In a Whack-a-Mole world, the more hammers the merrier.

Maybe it's Pluto in Aquarius or maybe it's end-stage capitalism, but we seem to be living through one of the craziest games of whack-a-mole in living memory, as we struggle to retain decency in our world. With every thwack from our Hammers of Resistance, it seems that ten more rabid moles emerge from the depths of hell, spitting their venom everywhere (dramatic much?). For anyone paying attention, life is definitely feeling more overwhelming and scary these days. In fact, it feels kinda impossible lately, and the temptation to put down your hammer and go cry in a corner is truly relatable, though not particularly advisable.

Why keep hammering?

We keep hammering away at those rabid moles - at the attacks on democracy and decency, at the assaults on human rights, at the shredding of sanity and the explosion of nuttiness because when we try to imagine how much worse things would be if we didn't, we have no choice but to keep hammering. We keep hammering because our friends and neighbours are hammering and we want to be part of the action too. We keep hammering because our actions encourage others to join in the 'fun'. We keep hammering because if we stop, other people - maybe future generations, maybe our neighbours, maybe complete strangers - will suffer more intensely. We keep hammering because it will take all of us giving what we can to stop this nightmare and turn it into something good. We keep hammering because it is an act of hope. We keep hammering because, even though it doesn't seem to be making a difference, it is.

"You cannot do all the good the world needs, but the world needs all the good you can do."

Whether you're writing letters (remember - they don't have to be eloquent or witty, just get your point across), calling your politicians, hanging banners, marching, protesting, speaking up when you see something bad, donating funds to human rights and/or environmental groups, attending town halls, making art, etc. your efforts are sorely needed just now. Every action you take for social and environmental justice is being added to the millions of other actions taken by millions of other caring humans. Together, we are saving our world from the crazed psychopaths who are out to destroy it. Even if it doesn't feel like we're winning, I believe we are thanks to the immense power of our collective efforts. Our power is immense only because each and every one of us is showing up with whatever tools we have to join in the Resistance. One day we will look back on these times and recognize the role we played in fighting evil.

So, no, we are not being fucking naive to think that we can change the narrative, alter the path, or save the world. I think we are being hopeful and it is our collective actions that offer the foundations of that hope. So keep writing, keep protesting, keep marching, keep calling, keep active, keep hopeful.

With love and hope,

Jessica