once i said, ‘no it’s ok, i’ll stay and listen. i am ok sitting here with that. i’m strong enough.’
wrong. the arrogance of that statement. i was burnt out and questioning what the fuck i’m doing by the end of my undergrad, wondering what the fuck radical love really meant when the person i most admired stopped treating me like a human being.
but actually, i am one of the weakest people i know, and there’s still a lot of doubt in my heart. when people talk revolution or radical whatever my heart hardens, i feel muscles of my body tighten. i try to remember to breathe and just let them get their words out. i remind myself to step back, stop thinking about not getting hurt, it will be ok, they’re thinking out loud, and that’s great. because i still agree, i still think radical love is possible, i still think revolution is possible. i believe in a future that values the lives and bodies of QTPoC everywhere.
getting into student organizing was one of the best things that happened to me. it opened my mind to a lot of things, to lots of people, and opportunities. it also made my resume look hella good. i’m convinced that it’s part of how i got into grad school. and it taught me something important: i don’t want to organize the way i used to anymore. i don’t give a shit about how big a movement can be anymore, and i don’t give a shit about common language if it serves to keep working class poor people out. i want to organize without shaming people for their existing knowledge, burning people out, without fucking people up when they cannot show up because they need to fucking take a break or just simply cannot or any reason. i want to organize with love, i want to organize for healing, i want to be transformed by the way i organize with people. i want to organize in such a way that heals, that gives people i’m with reason to heal. i want to support all kinds of folk to recognize the revolutionary hearts they were born with. i want to find my own heart, too.