Making it Last: Working for the Long Haul

from Hope in the Dark, by Rebecca Solnit

To hope is to gamble. It's to bet on the future, on your desires, on the possibility that an open heart and uncertainty is better than gloom and safety...

I say all this to you because hope is not like a lottery ticket you can sit on the sofa and clutch, feeling lucky. I say this because hope is an ax you break down doors with in an emergency; because hope should shove you out the door, because it will take everything you have to steer the future away from endless war, from the annihilation of the earth's treasures and the grinding down of the poor and marginal. Hope just means another world might be possible, not promised, not guaranteed. Hope calls for action; action is impossible without hope. At the beginning of his massive 1930s treatise on hope, the German philosopher Ernst Bloch wrote, "The work of this emotion requires people who throw themselves actively into what is becoming, to which they themselves belong." To hope is to give yourself to the future, and that commitment to the future makes the present inhabitable.

from "Survival Is the Least of My Desires" in Skin, by Dorothy Allison

I need you to do more than survive. As writers, as revolutionaries, tell the truth, your truth in your own way. Do not buy into their systems of censorship, imagining that if you drop this character or hide that emotion, you can slide through their blockades. Do not eat your own heart out in the hope of pleasing them. The only hope you have, the only hope any of us has, is the remade life. It is the only way we will all survive, and trading any of us for some of us is no compromise.

from On Being, September 15, 2016, Krista Tippet and Dr. Omed Safi interviewing Ruby Sales

DR. OMID SAFI: ... when you speak about this love that has been in your bones, this love that you’ve been raised with of the black folk tradition in the hymns, I’m all with you. And all of us want to see love at the center of the beloved community. At the very same time, when I sit with and I listen to black folks in the country right now, to Palestinians, to queer folk, to undocumented folk, there’s also a rage and an outrage. How do you walk simultaneously with...

MS. SALES: I’m glad you said simultaneously.

DR. SAFI: Simultaneously, not at the expense of one another, but how do we, with one breath and in one heart that is trying to be whole, acknowledge this rage and outrage and suffering, which is real, among so many people out on the margins of the power structures and this desire for a healing and transformative love that can lead to a beloved community?

MS. SALES: Well, first of all, as you just pointed out, love is not antithetical to being outraged. Let’s be very clear about that. And love is not antithetical to anger. There are two kinds of anger. There’s redemptive anger, and there’s non-redemptive anger. And so redemptive anger is the anger that says that — that moves you to transformation and human up-building. Non-redemptive anger is the anger that white supremacy roots itself in. So we have to make a distinction. So people think that anger, in itself, is a bad emotion, and it’s where you begin your conversation.

I became involved in the Southern Freedom Movement, not merely because I was angry about injustice, but because I love the idea of justice. So it’s where you begin your conversation. So most people begin their conversation with “I hate this” — but they never talk about what it is they love. And so I think that we have to begin to have a conversation that incorporates a vision of love with a vision of outrage.

And I don’t see those things as being over and against each other. I actually see them — you can’t talk about injustice without talking about suffering. But the reason why I want to have justice is because I love everybody in my heart. And if I didn’t have that feeling, that sense, then there would be no struggle.

from Breaking Isolation: Self Care and Community Care Tools for Our People, by Tauret Davis, a resource by & for the Audre Lorde Project

“Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation,

and that is an act of political warfare.” --Audre Lorde

In moments of grief, crisis, or trauma, and in the time before and after, we need each other to survive and thrive. We are obliged to lift up, honor, and hold space for our self-determination, to fight for our lives, and to remind each other of our worth and that none of us are disposable. ...

We must support each other’s wellness. One way to do this is to create a wellness plan for yourself, and encourage folks in your community to create a wellness plan for themselves. Strategize with your community about your wellness plan and meeting your needs.

Your wellness plan can look however you want it to, but the point is to name your current or anticipated needs, and who can support you in getting your needs met. Be sure to communicate your needs to the people who will support you. If your community is a web-based one, maybe create a private online shareable spreadsheet that folks can contribute to and edit. If your community isn’t online, maybe set up an in-person group meeting, a conference call, or make individual calls or meetings.

When folks ask you for support, remember to listen and follow their lead in lifting up their own self-determination. This is about the person requesting support, so don’t make it about you. If you feel you aren’t able to meet a need, be clear and honest about that, and help strategize another way to meet that need. Folks experiencing or dealing with their own triggers, crisis, or trauma may or may not be able to support. Ask. Don’t assume anyone is or isn’t able to provide support. If you do commit to supporting the needs of community, you may also need support in meeting those needs, so consider creating a wellness plan for yourself.

We are enough, and we are all we need to survive. We always have been. We’re all we’ve got. Be good to each other. Take care of each other.

No comrade left behind!