Conversation with a young activist losing hope

Recently I was talking with a young activist. He’s twenty. He was lamenting the difficulty of the ongoing work of justice and liberation in general, but particularly around the continuing, horrific genocide of Palestinians in Gaza.

“It just feels futile. Israel continues to starve them, bomb them, burn them alive. What can we do to stop it? There’s so much else terrible going on, too. Plus. The surveillance state is increasing. Everywhere you go there are cameras. And it’s illegal to wear masks at protests. We’ve seen the first arrests of protesters just for being masked—”

“Even though LEOs [Law Enforcement Officers] are alllll masked up,” I blurted while silently chiding myself for interrupting — a terrible habit that increases in proportion to my excitement about a conversation.

He nodded (he’s used to my interruptions), “Yup and they’re passing laws left and right to make everything illegal. Camping out on our own campuses, that’s against the law. Wearing masks at protests, that’s against the law. They’re snatching students off the streets for even writing editorials about Gaza. It’s like all we can do is have ‘rage parades.’”

“Rage parades?”

“You know, protest marches.”

“Ah.”

“Nothing’s working to stop the genocide. I just want to give up.”

I managed to let some quiet settle. “I hear you.”

“It just feels … like I said. Futile.”

“Let me ask you this,” I said. “Why do you protest? Why do you speak out for Palestinians? What motivates you to do this work?”

No hesitation: “Because it’s the right thing to do. And because, if it were me and my family being genocided, I would want people to stand up for me.”

“What a perfect answer,” I said. I admit I was proud and impressed with this young person. “So that tells me you are grounded in deep, core values. Values like justice, equality, compassion, solidarity.”

He kinda shrugged. “Yeah.”

“And you think the work is important?”

He nodded. “Course.”

“So it’s important even if it doesn’t lead to immediate change. But that’s hard because immediate change is what we want.”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously. We want the genocide to end. That would be a huge thing, right? Like, good for humanity and also good, immediate feedback that your activism is effective.”

He managed not to roll his eyes at where he knew I was going with this. “Gen Z, right. We’re used to immediate feedback and rewards, likes and follows on our social media.”

“Immediate intermittent rewards, the most addicting kind,” I said.

“I mean. Sure. But so what. Activism is about change. What’s the point if we don’t see change?” he said.

“I don’t know, man. It’s hard.”

“ What makes this particularly hard is that every day that we don’t see change, more people die.”

“Heard. The human toll is unfathomable.”

“when you’re thinking about such massive numbers, it’s hard to remember that they are people and not just statistics. But then you see pictures on Instagram of people being burned alive and it all comes back. And that’s just from far away, from here in relative safety. What must it be like over there?” he said.

“There’s a quote that says you are not obligated to finish the work, but you are obligated to continue the work.”

[Later I looked it up and the quote is from The Talmud: “It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you at liberty to neglect it.” Pirkei Avot 2:15-16]

I sighed. “I mean, can I relate to feeling defeated by the state of the world? Boy, can I ever. But I can’t even begin to imagine what Palestinians are going through. Have been going through. Continue to go through.”

We were quiet, thinking.

I said, “The deeper you go into work for liberation, the more you figure out what Dorothy Day said was right: ‘Our problems stem from our acceptance of this filthy, rotten system.’”

He nodded. “Revolution, not reform.”

“You’re way ahead of the game. Twenty years old and you already get it. So yeah, you learn that capitalism and greed are the root. They lead to colonialism. No matter what movement you’re involved in - anti-apartheid, anti-genocide, climate change activism, abolish ICE, dismantling white supremacy: a lot of it boils down to empire, to settler-colonization, which boils down to capitalism. Insecurity. Acquisition. Greed.”

“Yeah but if you point out the roots of the problems, liberals sidestep. They talk about singles issues. Plus they are like, ‘It’s your fault for not supporting Kamala Harris more.’”

I laughed. “Yeah. ‘Vote harder!’ Like that will fix it.”

“They say Harris lost because of anti-genocide voters. I say Harris lost because she was pro-genocide,” he said.

“Hell yeah. That’s a good way to put it.”

“Like that Democrat guy who said Democrats just need to take money from ‘good billionaires.’ As if there is such a thing.”

“Yeah, I think that was the new chair of the Democratic party,” I said.

“Jeezus,” he scoffed.

“What’s the problem with taking money from good billionaires?” I asked.

“You’re beholden to rich people the same way MAGA is.”

“Yep. It’s billionaires all the way down. It completely obscures issues of class and inequity. Inequitable wealth accumulation. And? What else is wrong about the ‘good billionaires’ thinking?’”

He squinted into the middle distance. “Well. There’s no such thing as a good billionaire.”

I nod, trying not to shout YES!!! “Mm. Whycome you think that?”

“Because no one who is moral would ever hoard all that wealth.”

“They sure wouldn’t. Especially when it could be used to alleviate human suffering right here and now.” I said.

We both kind of sighed. It was a vibe. “By the way,” he said, “did anyone ever ask you, when they got so upset about your criticisms of Kamala Harris, how you ended up voting?”

I shook my head, “Nope.”

“Sheesh. You’d think if they were so mad they would at least ask, to be sure they should even BE mad.”

My turn to shrug. “You’d think so. But that’s kind of part of the point, right? Liberals, especially white liberals, are as invested, like literally invested — stocks and IRAs, fancy degrees from fancy colleges, land ownership, wealth accumulation — it’s all investment in this filthy rotten system. It’s sort of like … we forget to ask some basic questions.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Like they were so busy being mad they didn’t bother to have a conversation with you.”

“Yeah. But that’s so instructive, right? Like how many times do we do that all the time?

He scrunched his nose. “What do you mean.”

“I mean, we get our panties in a wad about what we think is in front of us. But how often do we look at what our assumptions are? Or what we’re missing, not seeing? Not asking? Not hearing? Usually it’s good to take like, five steps back.”

“It makes me think of how you say, ‘Listen to understand, not to respond.’”

“I don’t say that. Restorative Justice Durham says that. But it’s a good guideline.” I said.

“Yeah. One of my favorite teachers had that as a class guideline.”

“It’s a pretty big game-changer. Most grown-ass adults can’t do it to save their lives.”

“You don’t do it when you’re mad,” he said.

I laughed. “You’re right. I don’t. But I try to return to it as fast as I can, you know? But yeah, big mad or big sad can make it hard to listen.”

He made a face. “But … we were talking about Palestine.”

“Right. We were. So what was my point? Umm. I think it’s that, well (a) you have good values at your core - rock solid foundation for your activism. And (b) I think community really helps. You lean on your comrades when you get dispirited. And they lean on you.”

“Yeah. That helps,” he agreed.

“You can share hope. Like, ‘hope is a discipline,’ Mariame Kaba says. But maybe it’s also a SHARED discipline. And that brings me to, what number am I on? C. So c is to remember joy. Have some fun. If you don’t figure out how to have joy in the resistance, you surely won’t last long. And you’re no quitter.”

He nodded.

“And my point about listening was also about stepping back. Looking at the bigger picture. Asking yourself and your comrades the big questions, over and over. ‘Why are we doing this? What are our goals? What assumptions are we making? What is our vision — how can we use our imaginations? How will we define success? Are we caring for each other? What are we willing to put on the line for actual liberation and solidarity?’ Those are questions we need to be asking ourselves all the time.

“And Angela Davis reminds us that ‘radical simply means to grasp by the roots.’”

Angela Davis button from Syracuse Cultural Workers

“I’m a radical,” he said.

“Hell yeah you are. I daresay anyone truly working for collective liberation has to be a radical. Got to be one. Full systems overhaul. Liberation. Justice. Joy. And we want to be tactical and strategic so we do effect change. But it’s grueling.”

“It’s like … more than grueling,” he said.

“Yep. Systems are slow to change. Billionaires, conservatives, liberals all have a lot invested in the way things are. They’ll fight systemic change tooth and nail. So then we ask, ‘What gives us hope?’”

He was quiet.

“Ahem.”

“Oh. Me? What gives me hope?”

“Yeah. You.”

“Hm. Zorhan Mamdani winning the mayoral primary,” he said. “That fucking rules.”

“By a landslide! Go New York!” I agreed, and again told myself to STFU.

“That was sweet as. His ground game is incredible. And … I don’t know. I guess the Philly garbage workers strike. And good music. Resistance music. And … the way communities are trying to stand up to ICE.”

“Those are all really hopeful things,” I agreed.

“Yeah.”

We share a quiet moment.

He asked, “What about you? What gives you hope?”

“What gives me hope?”

He nodded.

“You, kiddo. You and your comrades give me hope. Your work for liberation and justice. The way y’all are organized and take such good care of each other. You have it together more than we did at your age. It’s astonishing to me sometimes. And the way you persist, and you don’t forget about Palestine even while you make all these connections to what’s happening here. Y’all get it, deeply. And you’re about it, deeply. And that, that gives me hope.”

“For real?”

“For real. Well, that, and dancing,” I said.

“What about ice cream?” he said.

“You know it.”

Julia Child said ‘A party without cake is just a meeting.’

Emma Goldman said, ‘If I can’t dance I don’t want to be part of your revolution.’

I say, ‘Why not both?’

Sending all y’all joy and liberation and resistance and a shared hope and dancing and cake and ice cream.

And for God’s sake an end to the genocide in Palestine.

XOXO