You care about something and someone. You see the issues they face, your compassion becomes action, and you start making positive change. You don’t solve every problem, and that’s okay.
Successful advocacy doesn’t rely on fixing everything in the world, but on worlds becoming better each day.
Except – it seems like people aren’t paying attention.
Do they see what you’re seeing? Do they care enough to do something? Does anyone do anything that matters?
The problems aren’t going away, some of them get bigger, and you’re not sure if you can keep going.
What do you care?
I first saw hunger in my hometown as a red bag tucked behind a classmate’s backpack. Through a nonprofit program, volunteers came to my school and passed around bags of food. No one focused on long-term fixes, much less systemic causes, but instead, they highlighted the people who donated. In my eight-year-old understanding, I thought, If people donated, then it’s almost solved, right? I wasn’t sure, and the endless fundraising to end the wicked problem bothered me. When I walked into the kitchen, I often wondered about the classmate and their family.
I learned about the temporary –and needed— help of pantries and community kitchens, but it seemed like pulling up weeds without the roots. So I dug into issues of access, production, underfunded social programs, and injustices woven into our food system.
Food activism became my focus. Though the field is covered in deep, rotten problems, food still connects us in beautiful ways. It nourishes life, celebrates cultures, empowers, and helps us tell our stories.
As I dug, I met people who approached the work with unique experiences, deeper understanding, and creative solutions. I learned about more problems, but also about groups and organizations across the globe with similar tastes for a more just system.
Who wouldn’t focus on food activism?
Well, people have other things they can’t stop thinking about.
Are you sure?
If you think you’re the only one who notices, you might be dealing with despair, loneliness, and a hint of self-righteousness.
Maybe in your circle, they know you as the megaphone, but remember the billions of other people around the world. We can take heart and practice humility knowing others see this, too. You haven’t found them just yet.
So you join a team. You start to enjoy tackling the problem with other people. If only everyone did something about this, too.
But insecurities start as whispers.
Did you pick the right cause? Are you sure it matters?
You could be doing more.
When you pause for a breath, You’re taking a break? How selfish!
You smell inevitable failure, knowing the magnitude of the problem. This won’t end with you.
The weight of the world you can’t fix settles on your shoulder. You need to fix everything! Forget about what you care about, look at this emergency over here! But also, don’t forget about that other problem! Why don’t you care about that thing there? If you don’t act, who will?
You’d like to care less about everything.
But, friend, we aren’t wired that way, are we?
Yes, their cause matters, and yours does too
When the world overwhelmed me, especially during the lockdown in early 2020, I started to believe my work didn’t matter. My activism efforts seemed inconsequential. The perpetual problem of hunger somehow didn’t seem as urgent as all the others popping up in the news and social media.
I learned there are times to shift focus and times to look for the intersections. Viewing a problem through a singular lens ignores its relationship to others, ruining potential collaborations. Instead of solving hunger by sharing one meal, how can we reform the food system to not rely on racist structures? Ask big questions, and see how your passion relates to others’.
All to say, it’s okay to care about what you care about. We’re not supposed to solve everything, and we have limits. Different people tackle different problems, and we bring our efforts to the community’s tables to share.
But when the insecurities return, here are three reminders I have on repeat:
1. You are not the only one who sees the problem
Share the responsibility, both internally and externally.
Understand and research champions of this cause, especially people who have been pushed to the margins. Celebrate them and their work!
Invite others to learn and act alongside you. Not everyone will engage in your passion, and that’s okay. Keep an open invitation, leave behind any disappointment or judgment.
Remember that you can shift focus, too. As you learn about new facets of the problem, there are champions there, too, and they’ll be excited to have you join them.
2. You are not the only one doing something
It’s easy to say, “Make an effort to meet people with a similar passion one-on-one,” but it makes a difference.
When volunteering remotely, I reached out to a team leader, and we met over Zoom. I was nervous and over-prepared to focus on the work we needed to plan. We talked about work, yes, but we also talked about how the pandemic has shifted our worlds and laughed more than I had in any virtual call all year. At the next group meeting, we waved to each other as our squares popped up.
Reach out even if it’s awkward. You’ll remember you’re not the only one showing up, and someone else is expecting to see you, too.
Even if you haven’t found your team, somewhere people take action we don’t see. You may approach the work differently, but remember, there are different ways to care.
3. Your consistent efforts –and the efforts of others— add up
Even if you don’t see the work being done, things are happening. The more you can see the movement, the more you’ll feel like you’re helping its momentum. Learn about others in the field, keep in touch with teammates.
It’s fun to start something and generally easy to end, but the middle is where we live. For many causes, we aren’t the first ones to care, and we won’t be the ones to resolve the problems. This shouldn’t negate our work, but rather take off some pressure.
Keep caring about what you care about. See how it intersects with other cares, causes, and people who want to change worlds. We can help each other avoid burnout and freezing in place. Let’s remind each other we’re part of bigger movements, even in our smallness, and we need each other’s compassion in action.
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