Activism I: You're Not an Activist!

Graffiti in Bethlehem, Bansky.

MLK, Sojourner Truth, Malcolm X, Stokely Carmichael, James Baldwin, Maya Angelou, and your inconsistent social justice retweets don't add up; we hate to break it to you, but you're not an activist! It's tempting to perceive the upsurge of public communications as a bridge to advocacy, and in many ways, it is. However, a clear distinction exists between using social media tools to shed light on injustices more effectively vs. public impression.

Advocacy is an active endeavor, often fraught with dire consequences for advocates. It poses a threat to those who maintain power and control the threads of the systems that oppress us, those who profit from human misery, and therefore, it is repelled with violence. Advocacy is thus also dangerous for those who practice it. It means placing our individuality in jeopardy because we believe that our pursuit should be for the dignity of all. Advocacy is not narcissistic, which may explain the relative scarcity of social media platforms, where we meticulously curate our representation. Advocacy is not about self-promotion but about advocating for others.

Counterfeit Activists 

Advocacy and social justice have undergone a sexy rebrand in the last decade. Revitalized and catalyzed by social media, anyone with a smartphone can engage in social justice movements and brand themselves as an activist. As exciting as it is to see what feels like a resurgence of collective fortitude and momentum towards collective change, one must also consider the influx of performative activism that has become an almost expected counterpart to every social justice movement we have seen. It's a simulation, at best! Double-tapping on a post supporting a ceasefire in Palestine doesn't independently make one an activist. Fighting in the comments section of a social justice post is just an exchange of heated points of view; it's not evidence of true advocacy. This sham of advocacy is low-hanging fruit; it's a means of maneuvering social justice issues without getting too messy.  

At some point, social media gave counterfeit "social justice press badges" to users, and many took it and ran with it. But since advocacy is real and social justice involves taking uncomfortable stands against oppressive systems that we mindlessly follow today, many have been put in situations where their activist facade was weighed against their actions and failed. It's impossible to advocate, especially for privileged activists, if there are ulterior motives, anything outside of dismantling oppressive structures. And if we're not careful, social media attention will quickly offer a sense of instant satisfaction. If anything, social media has only introduced a microwaved self-gratification meal and served it on a plastic social justice platter. The truth is that it's hard to sit with the discomfort that comes with true advocacy.

Discomfort Is a Pre-requisite to Advocacy

Discomfort is prevalent as it pertains to true advocacy. This applies to the actual demonstrations of activism and is also true in researching and learning the causes that need advocacy. For many, research and education are some of the most challenging parts of true advocacy, especially activists who may not be willing to address their privilege in systems that continue to benefit them. And the reason it's difficult for some has to do with learning and accepting their inadvertent participation in a system that has actively disenfranchised others. But for true advocacy to be successful, truth has to be acknowledged, the pain has to be recognized, outrage has to be shared, and action must hold others accountable.  

This isn't to say that there is a requirement for people to magically internalize oppression or disenfranchisement that they've never experienced before for them to advocate for similar causes. But there is a necessity to hold space for the oppressed, be responsible when educating ourselves on various forms of discrimination, and accept how subjugation has benefited us in the process. Sitting with actual advocacy discomfort is challenging because it demands us to examine our lives and check our privilege. And for systems of oppression, everyone must be informed and willing to accept their role to hold others accountable. This can't be done through hollow social media advocacy; it's not real. Advocacy that doesn't care to learn, hold space for the oppressed, and offer genuine partnership isn't real and is a risk of exploiting those who are disenfranchised.   

This is our era: old injustices cling stubbornly while new injustices emerge. Brutality against the most vulnerable is witnessed on TV and then forgotten. In our globalized world, information moves too fast, leaving us drowsy; a sleeping cat seems to hold the same importance as a genocide. New mechanisms to control us are being implemented, and climate change and the risk of rendering the planet uninhabitable is not a dystopian fantasy. Constant threats of nuclear wars appear as invitations to annihilate human existence. Such is our time—a reality that cannot be remedied with a mere double-tap on a phone’s screen.

We can each build by checking in with ourselves and our actions about activism. Is what I am doing self-preserving? Are there more impactful ways that I can show up? How can my privilege be used as a tool to help dismantle oppression? While not an exhaustive list, reflecting using questions like these can help be a litmus test to see if your activism is shallow or if you are showing up and showing how needed. We have to be strong. No more hiding behind socially acceptable acts of protest!