Activist Apprenticeship Invitation

I'm embarrassed to say that I started an animal rights club at 13 that didn't accomplish anything. 

I literally feel the same shame I felt then.

When I was 13 I lived in a small, poor, mostly white town in Northern California. I went to a middle school there and started this club. We met at a playground to discuss how we could help animals. I remember I spent an excessive amount of time coming up with words that made a great acronym, but I don't remember what it was.

One girl came almost every week. Her mom said, "This is perfect for her." I want to cry thinking about how I failed. I failed her - and myself. Why does this hurt so bad? It hurt then too. I was ashamed to admit I had no resources. I had no framework for offering this girl, one year younger than me, any more opportunity than myself to help animals in any way.

I talked about going to the animal shelter to volunteer. But I didn't know where it was; or what their volunteer policy was. I didn't know how to look that information up, even though internet did already exist by that time. I didn't look up the number. My mom didn't have a working car. I was too embarrassed to admit to this mom that I had no way of making this happen, this trip to the pound. I just kept talking about it, and the girl kept coming, and we'd play on the playground. It really was more of a club - people who have an interest in helping animals, and meet up to talk about it, but don't do anything tangible - rather than a project, movement, or organization.

I want to help teenagers like me to gain the skills of organizing. I might have an opportunity to do this next year, through my work, but I don't know if it will take off. I could just offer this to the world, but do I even have the space?

I have so many gifts to give to the world, and I have such a hard time keeping them all straight. Well, I'm not straight. (Queer joke. Womp womp.) I have a Capricorn Sun-Mercury-Saturn-Uranus-Neptune. That's a LOT of structure. I've been burning through my entire life on a wing and a to-do list. How many of those things actually get crossed off is sometimes more a matter of my Gemini rising though, or some other nefarious influences I may not know about.

But I'm reading a book right now about making organizations more like people, focusing on emergence rather than pre-planning. Letting things unfold. I wonder, does this include starting projects and allowing them to drop? Or how can I share my gifts in a less structured, more informal manner? Is this even possible? What about the value of structure to making things happen on a larger scale?

These are all questions emerging in my process right now. When I was 13 I needed help making my social justice dreams come true. If you know of any aspiring 13 year old world changers who need mentoring, send them my way. I'm happy to take on an apprentice.

Here's what I would tell my 13 year old self, off the top of my head:

• Admit what you don't know. When people show up at your meetings, tell them about the vision you have, your ideas, and your resources (or lack thereof). Ask them for help. Be honest.
  
• Ask adults for help who seem to have the same values as you. Many of them may be discouraging or patronizing, but some of them will be inspired and supportive.
  
• If you are facilitating a meeting, co-create the agenda with whoever shows up.
  
• Open up a phone book and get all the numbers of organizations that might have compatible focuses. Call them. Bike to their building. Start a conversation.

On second thought, I did more than I realized. 

It just wasn't organized, it was emergent, like the book I mentioned earlier is talking about. (It's called Anarchists in the Boardroom, by the way.)

Biking to the store one day to get groceries for me and my mom, I found a dog running down the road. In traffic. I grabbed her by the collar, wheeled to a nearby store, and used the grocery money to buy a leash instead. (Good thing my poor mom loves animals.)

I brought this dog home and she lived on the porch of our studio apartment building for a few days. My mom called animal control and it turned out that the dog, who I named Pooch temporarily, lived nearby and had run away. The animal control officer took her home.

But the next day or so, she was back. This happened a couple of times, until finally the officer gave her family our number so we could communicate directly. It turned out that the family had just gotten two new dogs, little hairless purebred creatures that yapped and annoyed Bandit (the name this dog already had). The family said that we could keep Bandit if we wanted, because she kept running away and wasn't getting along with the new dogs. In hindsight, this was pretty irresponsible of them, since they didn't really check us out. We weren't really in a position to care for Bandit that well, but my mom and I did our best with what little resources we had, and a lot of enthusiasm.


At this same time, there was a studio cat named Thomas who lived on the porch of our building. Sometimes my mom and I gave him canned food. He sort of belonged to everyone, and he fathered most of the kittens on that street. I liked him. One day, another resident in the apartment told us that he had called the cops (animal control again) because Thomas bit him. They took Thomas in for quarantine. He would be held for ten days and then probably adopted out.

The year before, my aunt had started a savings account for me. She put $50 in it. I never added to it. I used this money to go get a voucher from a vet proving that I would have Thomas spayed. Then the pound released him to me. Pretty soon he was home, though without his testicles.

We talked a lot of shit about that neighbor, calling him a wuss for being scared of a little cat bite. One day I was feeding Thomas canned food on the porch, and I told him, in a baby voice, "You can bite whoever you want, Thomas." And he chomped down on my hand. I teared up but laughed it off.

Big picture, or interpersonal changes?

While these stories connect me with what I have accomplished, and did accomplish at that time, in service of my values and passions, I see that they didn't change anything at a systemic level. As important as I believe interpersonal kindness are - crucial, essential - I want to change the systems that allow for scores of animals to go without homes, be euthanized, tortured in labs, bred to have deformities and diseases, and factory farmed. (This isn't actually my focus anymore, though I still feel this way.)

Maybe, though, this interpersonal stuff is a good place for beginning activists to get their start. To ground in service, getting to know the populations we care about on a personal level. Our neighbors, in whatever form - humans harassed by police, animals without homes, trees being cut down, rivers polluted.

I don't have all the answers or the one best way. I have this experience, which is valuable. And I am willing to share it.

So contact me if you're that 13 year old (or 12, or 11, or 14...) who wants some support in actualizing your vision for the world, embodying your passion ... and noticing how you are already living it.
Use my current email: cultivateedge@gmail.com

Notes from Washington - Spring Lobby Weekend

Friday, March 11, 2016 - In transit, c. 2:14pm

Flying across the country, I see miles and miles - thousands or more - of patchwork squares and rectangles, and a few circles, below on the ground. I can't comprehend that humans have altered this landscape so incredibly much, to bring this regular geometric forms to such a large expanse of land.

Earlier, when I woke up from my initial in-flight nap, I looked out of the window just as we passed over the Grand Canyon. At least, that's the only logical explanation I could come up with for that big of a gash in the land below, and the flight tracker seemed to confirm that we were in the right place for it.

When I arrive in Kansas City for a layover, I'm challenged on the notion that women's bathrooms are cleaner (although I didn't actually compare) - there's a little gendered thought. Only four or five stalls - my neighbor said it was a small airport. The cardboard box of seat protectors is pushed halfway out of the metal dispenser meant to contain it, leaving it mangled and disgusting.

Back in the air, I'm listening to a book about the history and exploitation of Latin America to prepare for my trip this summer and pass the time. The starting place for my trip is climate change - cambio climático - but as I listen to the history of enslaved indigenous people forced to work in the mines and all the life that has cost, I remember that climate change is merely a symptom of a system. I call it capitalism; some say it is bigger - civilization itself. It is hard to know without learning more about how communist or socialist societies have conducted themselves - did they colonize? I think at times they did. Certainly the Inka seemed to have done so, and from what I understand, they were a very successful socialist society, according to the book 1492.

Saturday, March 12, 2016 - At the conference

In the opening session of Spring Lobby Weekend, during Welcome Reception, attendees stand up and share stories of what brings them here. This includes stories of how and why people have interacted with the criminal justice system - selling drugs, trespassing. We don't get all the background to these stories, but what strikes me is how something deeper is going on here. This isn't just about changing the outer world. This is also about getting to know one another's shadows. In the Quaker community, I sometimes feel there is this shame for not fitting into society or conforming in some ways. Ironic, given Quaker history and legacy of protest and dissent. I don't usually discuss my history with drug use in Quaker circles. This has more to do with how I think it would be received than any rejection of this history I feel.

One of my favorite speakers is Jondhi Harrell from The Center for Returning Citizens. He really brings home the human element of mass incarceration. To learn more about this organization's work, here is their website: http://tcrcphilly.org/

During the first meeting for worship, rich beautiful ministry was shared that reminded me of the value and importance of having a spiritual well from which to draw for our activism. One man mentioned the story of Paul and Silas singing in prison. It reminded me of this song I learned at witchcamp a summer or two ago from Rose May Dance.:

We will rise with the fire of freedom/
Truth is a fire that will burn our chains/
and we will STOP the fires of destruction/
Healing is a fire running through our veins

A Unitarian participant mentioned lighting candles and believing in the good we can accomplish. With songs still in my head, this reminded me of the Nahko song about good things coming.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lkGBLLjAXEA

There's a line in my notes that sounds like a quote, but there's no name attached to it, so I think it came from my own brain - but of course, it was an assemblage of sentiments being expressed in that room; I can't claim I created it anymore than anyone can claim to have originated anything:

"Just like you can't buy God, you can't put a price on human dignity."

 

 Sunday, March 13 - Monday, March 14, Assorted Factoids, Quotes, & Notes

The structure of the conference is hard for me. I would rather have Meeting for Worship at the end of the day, to integrate the mental and psychological distress of taking in all this information about human suffering. I wish we had already started our lobby training too, gotten to meet our state groups. We need to plan the visit; people are nervous. Nevertheless, I manage to take in some information.

 

It costs $30,000/year to house imprisoned people.

Senator Chuck Grassley, a Republican from Iowa, was moved by grassroots lobbying to take a stance on sentencing reform, and draft the Sentencing Corrections and Reform Act. He was convinced by the fact that many states, "legislative laboratories," have had success with similar legislation.

Please read the sentencing reform bills and dispel some myths about them. They are not "soft on crime" or a "get out of jail free card."  (For FCNL's central page on incarceration legislation, go here.)

The Senate and House of Representatives are people, even though the DNC, RNC, and Congress are themselves corrupted institutions. Faith inspires people to take risks, go against the grain of those corrupted institutions...which creates a chance for a mass of people to seize a moment, a chance, for sudden change.

This is an opportunity to pass meaningful bipartisan legislation at a time when there is not a lot of hope. ... Hope for bipartisan collaboration, hope for a functional Congress.
 

March 14, 7pm: Cory Booker

He is by far the most charismatic speaker this weekend. I'd never heard of him before, and since getting home, one of the seasoned activists in my community expresses some disappointment in his policy choices in the past - despite acknowledging what a great speaker he is. He's very quotable; in fact, I believe some of my previous notes, that were written after the fact, were influenced by his words. Here are some more:

"If you love your country, you must love your countrywomen and men. ... It will break your heart."

 

"Cynicism is a refuge for cowards."

 

"If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you can move mountains."
"Sometimes you have to fast and pray."
(OK, these last two are actually from the bible).

 

"Stay faithful." - Mrs. Jones, Cory Booker's old neighbor.

 

Somewhere along the way, maybe because Cory used to be a mayor, I start thinking to last summer, when we met a DC city councilor as part of our training for Advocacy Corps. I remember how she said that her run for city council included knocking on almost every door in the city, three times each. I think Cory says something like this too, so I start doing math for my future city council run. If there are about 90,000 people in Chico, there should be no more than 45,000 doors, probably less, but some people are single, while others live in families or couples. [I'm damn close - according to the census, there are about 37,000 households - even easier!]

If I allow for up to 20 minutes per conversation, to really meet people, and only spend 3 hours a day doing this (I'll still have to work and have fun while campaigning!), that's 9 doors a day. At that rate, it would take 5,000 days to meet everyone in Chico. ... Uh oh, that's about 15 years. I'm going to have to rethink this somehow. (This is a good example of why money corrupts politics - someone who doesn't have to work to live can campaign all day long without having to support themselves.)

Booklist from the Weekend

The New Jim Crow, Michelle Alexander
United, Cory Booker (he recorded it himself for audiobook, I now have it on Audible!)
America's Original Sin, Jim Wallis
Just Mercy, Bryan Stephenson

 ...

...

...

But, wait! Aren't you going to tell us how the lobby visits went?

I think there's enough to chew on here for now. I might come back to that, though I'm not making any promises. You can listen to my cohort's thoughts about it at this podcast, though.

What It's Like Being 26

You there...you're 25, right? 24?

I know all sorts of things about your life.

I know about that serious on-again off-again relationship. The one you thought you couldn't live without. I know the ones before that, too. The really unhealthy one that makes you feel like a totally different person when you think about it. The lovers who used to seem so important and now almost are erased from memory. If you started as young as me, that is.

Time is relative. It grabs you by the wrist, I've heard. It lengthens and compresses. I know about how your fur-children, kittens so recently, are now getting old. They fall into the "Senior Plan" at the vet's office.

I know about the sex. The wild, delicious sex with those you could communicate well with. The awkward, disappointing one-night stand with that boy from high school, now all grown-up, but apparently missing some crucial lessons. The drunken rolls in the grass out back behind the house after a night of crashing frat parties.

I know you think you will be skinny forever, no matter how much you eat. You're just lucky that way, with your metabolism. You can eat a whole tub of ice cream with no consequences. Don't let that older boyfriend shame you for having too much sugar. He's a fuddy duddy.

I know you think biking everywhere is perfectly fine and convenient and ethical. You're absolutely right. Don't get into bad habits of borrowing your roommate's car. They grab hold quick.

You have some idea of what your purpose is in this life right? You've dived into your psyche deeply, explored it through meditation or mushrooms, or both, and are ready to take the next steps of being an adult. Some semblance of what that may be is starting to take shape.

You are gathering all the self-knowledge you need. You still care so much what people think of you, but you are starting to dare boldly to challenge them a little - let out a little bit more of your radical self in those professional contexts. Don't shave for them. Body hair doesn't disqualify you from that scholarship, or make you do your internship less competently.

Dumpster diving is a thing of the past now, not because you think it's gross - it just isn't needed, or as fun as it used to be. And maybe it is a little gross when you have enough money to buy your own food. Dumpster diving clothes is still fun, right?

I know that your finances are still tight, and sometimes your roommates are irritated with you for not paying rent or bills on time. You're trying, but it is so difficult to survive in capitalism. Especially while maintaining some integrity and self-love, refusing to take totally shitty jobs. You were never good at customer service. That whole put a smile on thing makes you want to fuck some shit up.

I know you like to dance like a dork to music from your early teens. That doesn't change, don't worry. But some things do. Let me tell you about them.

26 is about eating sushi and drinking sake. It's about playing Scrabble in Spanish, because you're going to Latin America this summer, for the first time in 5 years.

It's about mentoring people younger than yourself, realizing that you are in fact older than some people, and learning not to look down on them and remember how much you hated it when older people did that to you. They still have experiences you haven't, because every life is different.

It's about hiking with new friends, and telling old friends hard truths. It's about moving beyond objectivity while mediating conflicts, and trusting so deeply in community that you can bring your full self to a difficult moment. Because you've put the effort in and made those relationships strong enough to resile (the verb form of resilience).

It's about Mercury retrograde opening you up so big that you tell people truths you held inside for too long. It's about mistakenly thinking you could stay that open a whole year long, and then coming into a more even-keeled balance. Praying for continued honesty, while also taking care of oneself by privacy if needed.

It's about climate organizing. Really it is, for everyone. It's about finding the last piece of the puzzle in planning your South America trip. It's about getting people you love to go with you.

It's about successful fundraisers and traveling across the country with friends to fight for criminal justice reform - and maybe have some drinks while you're at it. It's about birthday lunches with friends at a Thai restaurant (weeks after confirming that, in fact, no Thai place is open between the hours of 3 and 5pm anywhere in your city).

It's about gifts and celebrations. Poetry on other friends' birthdays. Sharing vulnerably and being inspired to write more.

It's about cuddling and being held in nonsexual ways that are deeply nourishing and maybe a little confusing at times. But you'll get it.

26 is about holding space for dear ones coming in the door sobbing, and helping to hold them, smush them all better, with a group of other people big enough to contain this pain, and valuing so deeply what it means to be in community. It's about appreciating that you've come to take this level of human connection and support for granted, and how fantastic is that. Once upon a time, maybe all humans did.

26 is about so many things. Cats and Congress, community and cooking. Planning your shopping list from recipes and actually eating well for days on end. Having enough. Enough food, enough love, enough faith, enough adventure... . It's about making friends on the Internet out of potential enemies. Crossing bridges and seeing a bigger picture. Having your hope in the future restored - which means a willingness to act towards a positive vision.

26 is about starting to write again, knowing that no matter how many breaks you take for how long, you can always begin again. Always. (26 is about diving deeper into long-loved fandoms, as well.)

26. 2 and 6. 2+6=8. Infinity. 8 was perhaps the last year before you truly lost your innocence, your faith in your guardians to care for you well. This year, the 26th year, is a time to regain that sense of being able to be well-cared for, by yourself and others. And to give that care to others, also.

But who knows, really, all that 26 is. Not me. I'll let you know, if I get to 27.

CC-BY-NC-SA

Sweet Activist Love

I want you to make sweet activist love to me

I want you to hold my head in your hands; help ease the pressure from utopian visions pounding to get out.

I want to wrap my legs around you and press my face in your tears

for whales dying from navy sonar.

I feel our fellow ache for a just world making me wet 

Help me release this tension between the world I want and the world we have 

with orgasms that blow up dams--

Grasping each others hair in vain attempts to hang on to another endangered species shedding from this alopecic world;

Laying my head on your chest I hear blood gurgle like tides of spilled oil on sandy beaches.

I need to grieve with my body.

Does your body creak with rusty joints of hidden despair?

Overloaded information conveying suffering from all corners of Earth sends me into numbness.

How can I make love to you when children are losing limbs from bombs made by my neighbors' labor?

While I enact the myth I need a man to be my savior. 

Save me

Save me from the terror of globalization with your touch

Save me from the tragedy of extinction in your embrace

Save me from helplessness learned in female socialization by listening to my desires as intently as you listen to Democracy Now

When our escapism and rejuvenation 

Have culminated in a sticky pile of privileged guilt and shame

Cuddling ourselves back into this reality

Pulling each other up to go 

To the next march

The skill share workshop

the strategy meeting

Refreshed.

Driving Home From My Doctor Talking To My Arm

I'm lying back on a raised medical bed, on those sterile white pillows and
a sheet of paper, the consistency of those protective sheets in public restrooms,
between my body and the - what is this? vinyl? - surface

heart palpitating like I've just confessed my love to some cute person
I want the nurse to slow down, talk me through my fear.
She tells me to take calming breaths
As if that ever worked

I want to hyperventilate until I can't anymore
but she won't understand, and I'm afraid to take up space
As usual

I look away, here comes the pinch, I tell myself:
It's just a mosquito bite! It's over in a few seconds and she's
smoothly applying a band aid

Later, in the car, I will talk to these dead diseases:
"Welcome to my body, tetanus, diphtheria, whooping cough.
We're going to work together.
And welcome too, all the strange chemical additives that I don't even know the names of.
I've been scared of you in the past, and I am still a little afraid, but I know I am strong, I am resilient.
I can handle this."

I sense my white blood cells accumulating in my right upper arm
and though some would say they are going into battle
I see a graceful dance

Tetanus runs across stage in a black tutu leaping
into the arms of a macrophage who
twirls her around
into the arms of an awaiting T-cell

Diphtheria poises in gold lamé,
surrounded by a quartet of en pointe B lymphocytes  
circling ever closer

Pertussis, easily the most 
elegant creature on stage, dripping 
in blue ribbons, nose haughtily arched 
to the high ceiling
dips and swoons
in harmony with the entire ensemble

Receiving that serum in my arm 
was one piece of a spell, 
a charm to carry me safely 
to another side of the world, and back

Every time my muscles have ached since then
I've felt happy, giddy,
picturing myself in the jungle,
unafraid.

I didn't know that I would be attuning to a longer spell
10 years they say, of protection from rusty metals.
I don't often invoke the unstable magic of western medicine
but this time, I can feel its Power.

Celebrating Bricks and Rocks

There is SO MUCH going on lately.

Actually, there is always so much going on. But in the past week or so, events and issues that I care about are swirling around me at rapid pace.

First there was a week of Take Back the Night events at the university campus here. I can't even begin to describe the profundity, liberation, outrage, and solidarity I feel after discussing sexual assault and how to challenge it with dozens--even hundreds, during the march Thursday night--of allies.

Now, my Facebook feed is filled with videos of protesters throwing rocks at cops in Baltimore. And me, someone who blogs about Nonviolent Communication--I'm thrilled! (Not so surprising, given that I was an anarchist long before I heard of Marshall Rosenberg.)

I don't want anyone to get hurt. I wish we could solve our problems without violence. But it is inevitable that when the oppressed are ignored and increasingly abused, they will fight back, if nonviolent reforms are unsuccessful.

And I am glad. Because I am sick of and sickened by not only the incomprehensible, gory acts of violence that men in police uniforms are committing across the US of A, but the acceptance, even endorsement, that other police officers, departments, and average citizens are giving to this brutality.

I have been sharing so many articles on social media lately, about so many things that I have not had or taken the time to digest, that my comments on them project the violence outward, not knowing how to take it all in. Does this sharing of information without any synthesis help? I think it does a little bit. It meets needs for awareness, for responsibility, for transparency even.

Amidst all this violence in the world, all this suffering, how do we maintain connection to our own humanity, and our ability to see others' humanity, so that we don't lose all hope of the just world that activists are out there throwing bricks for lack of? (I refuse to call them "rioters," as this term makes these people seem random and takes them out of the extremely political context this behavior is taking place in.)

Here is me teaching a workshop last month:

I was sharing my understanding of Nonviolent Communication with folks in Arcata, CA. Part of why I love doing workshops in Arcata is that so many folks there have their hands and minds and hearts in some form of social justice work or another.

I realized a few years ago that is valuable as NVC may be to communicate across political divides, it may be even more useful within already allied networks. There is no network too small to have disagreements. That is such a fundamental aspect of reality that it almost seems ridiculous to have to write it out, but for some reason we humans seem to have a hard time dealing with it. We freak out when someone disagrees with us. I do it too.

Sometimes that is because I associate that person's statement with something horrible. When I hear someone say they are not a feminist, I basically hear, "I condone rape," because to me one of the fundamental principles of feminism is bodily autonomy, and rape in its broadest sense is anything that takes that autonomy away--for example, forcing a woman's body to bear a child she does not want. I don't think all of the people who would say they are not feminists would consciously condone rape. So if I have a little space inside me, I can take that moment to ask, "Are you against rape?" Most people will answer yes. That is reassuring.

I look at that picture above, with universal human needs listed on it. I wonder, What needs of mine are met by people throwing rocks at cops after another man was brutally killed by the police force in question?

I feel relieved that people are taking some action, any action. This gives me hope for healing. As long as the status quo is maintained, healing cannot happen. The burning of cop cars changes the status quo.

My need for community is met by these people's actions. Freddie Gray is not disappearing into obscurity, another invisible casualty of white supremacist policing. People care. This matters to me. I want us to care about each other. I want it to matter when someone is killed by police. These actions show that it does matter.

I want people to be free of harm. I want communities to find ways to defend themselves when they are being harmed. I would be relieved if that defense was not necessary, because we didn't try to hurt each other in the first place. But if the offense is coming, I want people to find a way to free themselves from harm. I am not very hopeful that throwing bricks and rocks is a long-term solution, but in the moment, I am MUCH happier to see that than yet another defenseless crowd being flashbang-grenaded or pepper sprayed or pelleted with rubber bullets.

I want healing, I value community, I care (though probably not enough), I believe that those who suffer and die at the hands of officers matter, and I want all people to be free from harm. Right now the images of cops retreating as bricks and rocks come flying through the air towards them gives me a sense of relief. Thank god they are backing off. The people they are trying to attack have some space, some safety. I'm not advocating vengeance here, although I know how seductively sweet it can sound.

If those initiating the original acts of violence--the police--would listen to the people they are hurting and killing on a weekly basis, it wouldn't have come to this. If we as a society didn't condone outrageous police violence, I don't think it would have come to this.

So what can we do, if we say we want the violence to stop now? Listen to the folks who the violence was started for long ago. Hear the needs they are SCREAMING to be heard for, burning to be heard for...and care. Care as much as we do now that these so-called riots have broken out.

I am mourning that it has come to this, and hasn't been changed another way, but I am celebrating that something is happening, anything--because as the status quo is unsettled, maybe there is an opportunity to find a leverage point to keep it from settling in to the same old patterns yet again.

Back to Basics: I-Messages for Activists

So, there is a lot I want to say on this topic. Someone recently told me she was very interested in reading about using Nonviolent Communication as applied to activism. I consider this post a "pre-NVC" skill building invitation. I hope to go more in depth in coming weeks.

Last week I went to a meeting of an organization a friend has been trying to get me involved in. I went as a witness to observe and learn how the group functions and what it focuses on, not to participate directly yet. The meeting progressed in a somewhat typical fashion, with many of the communication challenges faced by groups of people attempting to work together cropping up.

At one point though, I started to feel quite uncomfortable. A very new idea came up, a way of doing things that would be a big change from how this group has historically functioned. But some people in the group seemed to think that it was both completely reasonable, and perhaps even urgent to implement this idea. One person in particular kept saying, "They should...[do this]. We should [do this]."

I felt worried. I was introduced to the problematic aspects of the word "should" about 10 years ago. I actually feel scared of the implications of the word should. I think it is a word that underwrites violence, whether that be micro-aggressions or all-out crusading war. The very idea of the word should is a rejection of reality as it is, an unwillingness to be present with our emotional response to something surprising or uncomfortable, and act from there. Instead, when people want to avoid feeling the discomfort of something unfamiliar, they act from a place of should, which means trying to force or coerce someone into their comfort zone. Here are some examples of how "shoulding" leads to violence.

1. A straight, cis man sees an apparently male-bodied person on the street wearing what to this man seem like women's clothes. The guy thinks, "He shouldn't be wearing those clothes. That's gross/ a sin/unnatural." He starts to harass the person. The man might have felt attracted to the person he saw at first, and then when he noticed cues that he was taught to associate with "male," he thought, "I shouldn't be attracted to a man! He shouldn't trick me!" This might escalate to physical assault if the man in question is so unwilling or unable to be with his discomfort with this unfamiliar experience.

2. A parent tells a child not to do something. The child questions why this is, or says that they really want to do the action, such as drawing on a wall with crayon. The adult in question has a belief that "children shouldn't talk back/should respect their elders," so they either slap the child across the mouth, or hold them down and "wash their mouth out with soap."

3. A teenage boy who is passionate about sustainable living sees his neighbor throwing recyclable items in the trash. He thinks, "That guy should know how to separate out his trash and recycling!" He starts to yell at the neighbor, "What the f*** are you doing? Don't you know how to f***ing recycle? Are you trying to destroy the Earth?" The neighbor, a college student hungover from partying the night before, gets defensive and punches the boy in the face in retaliation for this confrontation.

This last example might be hard for some of my readers who have great care for our planet and great mourning for the way we are harming our home seemingly beyond repair. This is the essence of the word should though: it comes from a place of unwillingness to be with that grief, or whatever other uncomfortable feelings we have about something--and results in attempted coercion of other people. (For ideas on how to be present with grief, see the two posts previous to this one.) It also escalates violence instead of de-escalating by speaking from our hearts.

In our collaboration efforts, I think we as activists will better embody a more respectful culture now if we speak for ourselves, rather than trying to speak for the whole group, to make it conform to our whims. This is another problem with the word should: it pretends to speak for objective reality (should as a universal truth), rather than the speaker taking responsibility for their own preferences and vision.

The most simple translation from the word should, I think, is "What I'd like to see happen is...." Here are a few examples.

"We should start raising the admission fees to events and make them mandatory instead of donation,"
becomes
"I'd like to see us raise the admission fees to events and make them mandatory instead of donation."

"You should recycle your bottles and cans! You're destroying the planet!"
becomes
"I'd really like to see us recycling in our neighborhood. I don't want the planet to be destroyed."

"You should treat your elders with respect,"
becomes
"I'd like to be treated with respect." [Could continue, "What that looks like to me is...."]

"We should include the police in our efforts at community building,"
becomes
 "I'd like to see us include the police in our attempts at community building [because they are a part of the local community too and have an effect on us]."

"We shouldn't include the police in our efforts at community building. They shouldn't go around shooting people if they want to be included in the community,"
becomes
"I'd like to see us exclude the police from our community building efforts, because I want to build an infrastructure with people I trust and feel safe from violence around."

This last piece starts to bring in more detail about why we'd like to see this thing that we may have been thinking everyone "should" do. And maybe we even discover that we don't have a why, and that we don't even like our own idea anymore! Or maybe we are able to better articulate our reasoning in a way that our collaborators can understand. Either way, the movement will move forward from a place of personal responsibility.

For now, I invite you to share an example of something that you think a fellow activist, or group of activists should do (be honest with yourself) and then translate this into a simple I message of "What I'd like to see happen is...." Does this feel more vulnerable? More powerful? For me, it is both.