Revolution Roundup: 7 Ways to Fight for Justice This Week
Change doesn't happen solely through massive, revolutionary actions. It's about starting with one small step and then taking those steps over and over and over again.
Sometimes the amount of change that the world needs feels totally overwhelming, and it can be impossible to know where to begin.
But the truth is that change doesn't happen through massive, revolutionary action. It's about starting with one small step and then taking those steps over and over and over again.
This roundup is by no means meant to be all-encompassing. Instead, these are six steps to take if you don't know where to start on your journey towards fighting for true justice. These are jumping-off points you're frustrated by the world's ills and you want to fight, but are searching for a place to start.
1. Fight for Breonna Taylor
This week, many Black Lives Matter organizers are concentrating their efforts on accountability for cops who killed Breonna Taylor.
Breonna Taylor’s family renewed their pleas for justice, 5 months after her killing by the police. “At this point i… https://t.co/teTm4pwadf— The New York Times (@The New York Times) 1597334407.0
Breonna Taylor was shot to death by police in her own home 5 months ago today. All of the officers have walked free… https://t.co/dNNM0aiogE— Elizabeth Warren (@Elizabeth Warren) 1597341473.0
If you'd like to help, there are many ways to do so. Here's an easy way to help from home: Reach out to www.powertous.org (email [email protected]) if you're interested in writing postcards to Mayor Greg Fisher demanding justice for Breonna. Plus, this is a great excuse to buy some stamps and support the postal service.
You can also visit this website and use their script to make calls and send emails to relevant people in charge of handling this case.
You can also use this resource from KDJA Hour of Action to call, email, and tweet your support for Breonna as well as Saraya Reed, a 14-year-old Black girl incarcerated after experiencing a mental health crisis, and Matthew Rushin, an autistic 18-year-old black man who received a 50-year sentence after a car accident.
Meet Saraya. This is part of her story. We are fighting for this story to end in victory! https://t.co/MjRLjqEdEE— Amber Patrice Riley (@Amber Patrice Riley) 1597084149.0
2. Help Support Beirut
Beirut suffered a horrible explosion this week, and hundreds of people's livelihoods have been destroyed. Residents affected by the crisis say that anyone who wants to help should only donate to the local Red Cross, as many other funds won't actually make it to the people in need. Donate here.
Operation Help Lebanon: Medical supplies: https://t.co/WJ8sv9eu94 Red Cross (no login required):… https://t.co/qkYks80oUA— Anonymous (@Anonymous) 1596577734.0
You can also donate to the NGO Humanity and Inclusion, which has over 100 workers on the ground in Beirut, or Islamic Relief, which is also providing necessary aid in Yemen and elsewhere.
3. Join (or Start) a Local Mutual Aid Network
Mutual aid is a practice rooted in community exchange and the concept of "solidarity, not charity." If you live in NYC, your neighborhood almost certainly has a mutual aid network—and Mutual Aid NYC has a weekly Wednesday call if you want a place to start.
You can join one and spend time delivering groceries to neighbors in need (most are reimbursed!), compensating neighbors for their deliveries, or organizing mutual aid relief efforts. Hey, you might even get to know your neighbors for once.
Mutual aid networks have cropped up across the US and world during COVID-19, and it's quite possible that your neighborhood has one. If not, you could even gather some of your neighbors and start your own. Here's some advice on how to start a mutual aid network via Slack, via Bed-Stuy Strong, a massive mutual aid network born in early COVID-19 days in NYC.
4. Support the #fundexcludedworkers Movement
The Fund Excluded Workers movement is a push to tax billionaires in order to provide emergency income to New Yorkers unable to receive unemployment benefits. According to their website, 9 out of 10 Black and brown immigrant families surveyed reported job loss or loss of income—but only 5% reported that they received unemployment insurance.
Check out the legislation here, and check out the website to call your local legislators and to join the movement to tax billionaires in order to fund our essential workers.
5. Join a local organizing group
The best way to stay plugged into organizing efforts and to avoid feeling totally overwhelmed by all these different causes is to join a local organizing group. That way, you'll be able to build relationships and join teams that are already plugged into this work. Consider joining your local chapter of Sunrise Movement, DSA, the Movement for Black Lives, Showing Up for Racial Justice (SURJ), or another organization that appeals to you. Just start by signing up for their email lists and going to some of their trainings, and you'll find yourself with literally endless amounts of work to do. We are so much more powerful together than we are alone.
6. Keep Learning: Read About Black August, Black Women's Equal Pay, and More
This month is Black August, a month dedicated to commemorating the Black radical tradition. Check out Noname's reading list and get educated about what they didn't teach you during Black history month.
We are excited for our next Black Feminist Political Education event for #BlackAugust on “Radical African Feminist… https://t.co/G04m0J0dFq— Black Women Radicals (@Black Women Radicals) 1597252759.0
While you're at it, read, tweet, and speak out about the movement for Black women's equal pay.
Today is #BlackWomensEqualPay Day, when Black women’s pay catches up to what white men were paid in 2019. That's ne… https://t.co/GkbtrSPzHf— National Women's Law Center (@National Women's Law Center) 1597325416.0
And whenever you're able, attend online workshops and educate yourself however you can about the history and current work of activist movements. The inimitable AOC is offering a variety of organizing workshops in the coming months, so check those out and keep it up!
7. Redistribute the Wealth: Give Directly to Those In Need
If you have the means or come from generational wealth, it's always a great idea to give money directly to people in need. There are a variety of wealth redistribution groups on Facebook, such as Ask For Money & Help and GoFundMe -> Cash App -> PayPal Donations Platform. The page @blackwomxnexhale also shares requests directly from people, or you could literally just search "Venmo" or "cashapp" on Twitter. If you're looking to make a bigger commitment to wealth redistribution, check out Resource Generation.
*THIS IS A FINANCIAL SUPPORT THREAD FOR BLACK TRANS WOMEN ONLY* Drop ya pay links sistas! I'll be tagging cis and non-Black folx.— Nyla Sampson (she/her) (@Nyla Sampson (she/her)) 1558535007.0
Giving Tuesday During COVID-19: The Most Impactful Ways to Give
There are plenty of ways to donate without sending finances.
Giving Tuesday is already a well-loved tradition for many, and this week (May 5th) is a global day of giving tailored to the scariness of the current moment.
Of course, just staying home is probably the most important thing any of us can do right now at this time, but many people are responding to an urgent call to do something more, to connect and to give. Millions of people have already given a great deal of their time and energy during COVID-19, many donating their stimulus checks, participating in mutual aid networks, fighting on the frontlines and more. This day is just another excuse to do so in whatever capacity you can.
"Giving Tuesday is always, since the beginning of it, really about human connection and strengthening communities, and that is exactly what's needed now, when there's fear and uncertainty and polarizing forces, and those things are threatening social as well as economic collapse, in addition to all the health uncertainty and fear," says Asha Curran, CEO of the Giving Tuesday movement. "It's not a fundraiser," she says. "It's a global generosity movement."
With millions of Americans out of work or dealing with financial insecurity, giving financially may not be possible. According to one survey, 42% of Americans questioned said they were having trouble paying for basic expenses like mortgage, rent, or groceries.
There are plenty of ways to donate without sending finances. The Giving Tuesday website and sites like Daily Generosity Alerts will alert you to small ways to give back. You can also text #GivingTuesday to 33777, or look into joining your local mutual aid network or using your own strengths to contribute to a social movement.
Deciding what to donate and how to give is a personal and political choice, and you don't have to donate exclusively to COVID-19-related funds. It's important to look to the people that aren't receiving what little support the government is providing. (New Sanctuary Coalition, the Partnership for Native Americans, and the Bail Project are all good options in that respect; the ACLU is also always fighting for justice). Food banks that support the most vulnerable are also valuable places to give.
It's also important to consider issues that existed before COVID-19 but that have only been exacerbated by the crisis. "The focus should be on helping the world's poorest people, not just people in the US; if you want to give in the US, you should give to effective, direct charities; if you want to maximize your impact, donating to prevent the next pandemic might be your best bet; and don't forget that the problems that plagued us before coronavirus still plague us now, and that other, non-Covid-19 charities need support, too," argues Dylan Matthews for Vox.
Plus, of course, charities often fail to endure or enact substantial change, particularly when they don't work directly with the communities they're trying to give to. Therefore, long-term community engagement is particularly important nowadays. Also, actions like voting and engaging in larger-scale campaigns to shift larger superstructures of oppression can also be very powerful. Whatever you do, make sure you're taking care of yourself too, because change starts within.
For more ideas about places to give, check out this list or this list.
Visionaries Project: Rev. Chelsea MacMillan on Coronavirus, Sacred Activism, Climate, and the Apocalypse
Interspiritual minister Chelsea MacMillan talks faith and healing in a time of tremendous change.
The Visionaries Project is a subsection of The Liberty Project dedicated to highlighting the lives, passions, and work of radical activists currently working towards social justice and liberation from oppression. We aim to uplift the perspectives of diverse voices working in media and activism today—and not just the faces who make headlines, but the real people on the ground every day, working towards their visions of a better world.
Rev. Chelsea MacMillan is the founder of the Brooklyn Center for Sacred Activism, the co-host of the podcast The Rising: Spirituality for Revolution, and a dedicated activist, community organizer, and "warrior for peace and change." She recently taught a course called "Reclaiming the Apocalypse," and her wisdom is invaluable in these times of crisis, and always. We spoke about the overlaps between religion and spirituality, collective healing, mutual aid during coronavirus, climate change, and more.
Find her at her Patreon and her website.
LIBERTY PROJECT: Did you grow up spiritual, or involved in activism?
CHELSEA MACMILLAN: I grew up in a really evangelical, conservative Christian family, but I rejected it pretty early on. My parents divorced when I was like ten or eleven, and that was around the time where I realized that being a Christian doesn't mean you're a perfect person. I was just woken up to a lot of hypocrisy. I started rejecting the exclusionary attitude of the churches that we went to, and I called myself an agnostic for a while. I started to question my epistemology without realizing it, wondering why I thought the way I did.
Then I started traveling the world in a performing group, and I had a lot of really intense, magical experiences that I think were mystical experiences. I remember feeling really connected to all people and all creatures everywhere, and I felt this sense of oneness. I definitely felt spiritual, though I didn't want to put it into any form.
Then I worked on staff at a place called the Omega Institute, which is a big retreat center in the Hudson Valley. I tried out different forms of Buddhist meditation and Earth-based practices and things that were vaguely pagan or shamanic, as well as more New Agey things. But I was always really impatient with the way that spiritual communities were in terms of what was happening in the world. I couldn't really accept the idea that we were all one and that we could "be the change we wish to see" while sitting on our yoga mats. The world doesn't reflect that. Yes, it's a spiritual truth, and I've experienced that feeling of oneness and connection, but I think it doesn't do any good to just sit here and believe that. We have to realize and actualize this belief.
During one of my summers at Omega, I learned about this interfaith seminary called One Spirit. I went there and was ordained as an interspiritual minister, and it was there that I learned about sacred activism. I actually took a class with Andrew Harvey, who basically coined the term "sacred activism." He was one of the only people really talking about how activists and spiritual folks needed to come together, because there's a shadow side to both of those groups.
And I realized...this is why I came here. This is what I've been looking for my whole life. Sacred activism is the idea that activism in itself is a sacred path, because all the great spiritual teachings tell us to live our lives with compassion.
I had also been going to a lot of activist meetings and circles and thinking that the people there really needed spirituality. Everybody was so caught up in blaming and shaming. No matter what your ideology is, rigid and dogmatic ideologies are harmful. That's what I had grown up with—but now I was with the liberals, and it was the same sh*t. It wasn't loving and wasn't accepting.
Along your journey to finding the place where activism meets spirituality, are there any experiences that stand out to you as particularly formative or that you feel set you on this path?
I did have a moment recently that confirmed for me why I'm on this path. This past October, Extinction Rebellion had a global week of rebellion. We started with actions at Wall Street and threw fake blood on the bull, and we did this dramatic die-in in front of the stock exchange.
We were also doing RebelFest in Washington Square Park, which felt like an example of realizing that you don't have to perform a direct action to be disruptive. Building community is disruptive, and feeding each other for free is disruptive, and doing art together is disruptive.
That week, I also took part in the Times Square takeover with XR. We shut down an intersection with this big bright green boat, and there were 13 of us who were glued and chained to it. My comrades and I were put in the tombs, which is where they take everyone who's been arrested, and there was a woman detoxing from heroin on the floor and a pregnant woman who totally should not have been in jail. It was a really intense experience, and I remember thinking—could I go to jail for longer? Would I be willing to go to prison for this cause?
I was going through these ups and downs of feeling like I was losing my mind, and there was a moment where we all just were laughing at ridiculous things because...you lose all your power in there. You don't know [when] you're going to be let out; you're hungry and tired and dehydrated and dirty. And I was like… Could I do this more? Could I be here for months? Do I have it in me? I remember thinking, what am I called to do? How am I called to serve?
I thought of all the people who have inspired me like Dorothy Day and MLK and people who really followed that calling to make the world a better place. It's a spiritual calling.
I realized I do feel like I'm willing to sacrifice my life for building a more just and loving world. I was surprised to feel that in a moment of despair, but that's where I felt closest to God, spirit, or the great unknown. I felt like I was being called, and it felt very powerful.
What does your vision of a better world look like?
What excites me is thinking about the mystery, rather than coming up with the best plan for a bright new world. This requires us to be in the present and in the future and to bring the future into the present. When I think about a vision for the world, I ask questions like: How do I want it to feel? What does it look like, sound like, feel like?
I think what the future looks like is here now. I see it all the time. I see it with the current crisis, in the ways in which people have been jumping into action around creating and activating networks of mutual aid—and taking time to play with their kids, and rest and take walks in the park. I see it in places where we're really connecting with each other.
I think of a new world, or the future, as one in which we're taking care of each other, in which we're really connected. Can you imagine, if we really took care of each other? We wouldn't need housing justice. We'd already be doing it. We wouldn't let anybody not be cared for. We wouldn't have people going hungry, because we'd already be feeding each other.
It sounds a little overly simplistic to say all of that, but I think bringing things into the present and asking—what do we have that we want to grow?—actually helps us be more grateful for what we do have.
Humans have a limited capacity for understanding. We understand a lot and we're constantly innovating, and that's sort of what it means to be human—finding meaning—but we can't see the future, and we make mistakes. As soon as we have a plan for the future, it limits creativity and the emergence of something that can grow from the ways we're already connecting with each other and being with each other.
So many religions seem to boil down to this idea of compassion, and I'm definitely seeing that in responses like mutual aid. So in light of all your work, how have you been processing the current crisis? Are you seeing potential in it? I know you taught a workshop on the apocalypse—not that this is an apocalypse, but...
But we are! It's like a perfect example of the apocalypse. Apocalypse means "to lift the veil," and having this crisis is showing us how f*cked-up our medical system is and how f*cked up our whole economy is to rely on humans as capital. It's showing us how our leadership is broken, how so many people were living alone before this.
As a climate activist, we've wondered for a long time what can really change the momentum. It's so hard to make any change when there's such collective dedication towards keeping a system going, a system that is based on extraction and exploitation and corruption and domination and all of those things that are literally killing us and the planet. In XR we talk about stopping business as usual—well, here we are, and business is literally stopped.
It's my hope that it doesn't go back to normal. I don't want to go back to a world in which we're all hustling to make ends meet and we're working so hard and so long that we don't have time to connect to each other.
I do think it's showing us what's possible. All of the politicians and businesspeople have told us for a long time that it's not possible to stop the system and change it all in order to stave off the climate crisis—but we're doing it.
If the New York Times was reporting on the climate crisis as much as it's reporting on the coronavirus crisis… that could change things. If everyone was told that we have to stop using our cars and we have to stop doing this thing and taking flights and traveling for our safety and so we don't die…maybe we wouldn't have as big of a problem. The response we've been taking with coronavirus actually needs to happen with this climate crisis.
It all does seem like a wakeup call. Before this, it seemed like most of the people I know—even if they weren't plugged into the climate crisis—had the feeling that something unsustainable was going on, that something precarious was happening. And this does seem like a large planetary exhale to me.
We need to bow down and honor what's happening to us, to step back and see how enormous this shift is. It kind of takes my breath away. It's honestly the same feeling that I felt when I was sitting in jail.
It's interesting that you compare the feeling you're having in this crisis to the feeling of being in jail. Those both seem like moments of great change and shift. I keep seeing Octavia Butler's "God is change" quote everywhere and it feels like these moments could be related to that.
I love that quote. It's probably my favorite way to describe God.
I'm seeing all this in two ways: There's tragedy, but there's also growth that could be happening. It feels like if anything it's waking us up to the importance of community and the current lack of community. Even a lot of activism work doesn't seem to hone in on community or connection or rest and then there's so much burnout, and it feels like all this is kind of calling for a practice of rest and community-building.
I think it's so easy for humans to jump in and ignore all of our feelings and ignore connecting to each other, focusing on how we might fix this painful feeling, instead asking—what is this moment telling us? There's something beyond my comprehension happening right now.
It's easy for me to say that in times of crisis, people jump into action to help each other, because that's what I see in communities. But it's also true that there are people who get scared and hoard and only take care of their own.
I think every human has both responses possible in them, and this reminds me of a story that I read as part of my apocalypse research called Why the World Doesn't End by Michael Meade. He says there are three kinds of people in the world: There are the people who just only care for themselves and maybe their families, who in times of crisis will turn on their neighbor, and who are just trying to survive. Then there's a second group of people that really care about others and contribute to community and are attuned to other people's needs; but those people, under great stress, will also turn on their neighbor and contract and hoard and try to protect and defend themselves and their families.
But then there's a third kind of person that in the midst of crisis will rise up and reach out when the impulse is to actually turn back in. I think that's what being a sacred activist is: someone who can be with the unknown and who can be with the vulnerability of reaching out in times of danger.
I think in order to be able to reach out, you have to rely on something other than yourself. You have to be able to rely on something, even if that's your community or if that's God or spirit or even the earth. You have to feel supported enough to reach out to others in a time of crisis.
I think that's been sticking with me. Who's going to be that third group of people?
Alright, I'm done on my soapbox. That's my sermon for today.
What do you suggest people dive into, if you're looking for a way to get involved at this time? I know you mentioned mutual aid.
XR has been plugging into neighborhood groups and existing networks of mutual aid. That could be taking care of your neighbors and seeing what they need or delivering meals to aging populations. Also there's something called The Leveler, a wealth redistribution tool that allows people to donate a certain amount of money to people who just lost their jobs.
But also...check in with people. Be with the feelings. XR has ramped up offerings for people to connect with each other and share their feelings and meditate. It's called "Extinction Resilience," and it'll pretty much be happening twice a week right now, and that's a great place to cultivate inner resilience.