Dear ones,
On election night in 2004, I drank vodka from a can half-full of Diet Coke and watched a dorm room television as the results from Florida rolled in. It was the first election in which I was able to vote, and although my burgeoning radical politics had already made me skeptical of centering electoralism in social change work, I also knew that there was a lot at stake. George W. Bush put us in a war that was killing thousands of Americans, Iraqis, and Afghans daily, and I was part of a movement that was trying to end it -- getting GWB out of office was just one part of that process.
We didn’t get him out of office, as you know; rather, that night, it became clear that we would have four more years of one of the most ridiculed presidents of all time. Angry and tipsy, my first queer love and I roamed campus singing Against Me! and stealing sloppy kisses behind the student center. We were upset, but I remember distinctly not feeling defeated; the next day we showed up to our DePaul Students Against the War meeting like we did every Wednesday, and we got to work. And of course, we would have done the same had Al Gore been elected. I knew then as I know now that no matter who wins elections, the power -- by which I mean the energy from which things shift -- comes from below.
I have, in recent years, found myself defiantly on the side of what some might call “optimism,” but I often reframe as a practice of paying attention to what I want to see grow (which I know you’ve heard me repeat ad nauseum). I am here again, managing to avoid despair, largely because of the work I did and learned about in those early days of organizing against the war. What I choose to notice is that as long as there is oppression, there will be people resisting it. What I choose to focus on is that as long as there are people breathing, so too are there people creating pockets of freedom through mutual aid, music, dancing, sharing meals, dreaming and visioning and loving, together.
I don’t think this approach is pollyannaish or any kind of head in the sand delusion. I’m not ignoring the grim reality of the huge outpouring of people who support Trump’s racist vision for the country so much that they showed up in droves to vote for him again. There is a lot to fear, there is a lot to fight. But there is also a lot to study and learn from, a lot to revere, a lot to celebrate.
Today I am paying attention to: abolitionists like John Brown and Harriet Tubman, indigenous communities finding ways to thrive despite occupation, the poems of Assata Shakur, the poems of Diane di Prima, the Cuban revolution, the history of the CNT, the Battle of Blair Mountain, Black Lives Matter, youth environmental justice activists, the many Food Not Bombs chapters still serving food weekly to hungry people, the radical ideas we share in zines, protest music across generations, the fact that police abolition is mainstream, the Zapatistas, the writing of Paulo Friere, the writing of adrienne maree brown, the words of Angela Davis that “freedom is a constant struggle,” but also the wisdom of healing justice organizers of “sustainability as a political practice.”
I am paying attention to the memories I have during Bush’s second term, the way we just kept going, and how we found so much joy along the way. These examples give us building blocks. These examples remind us that revolution is a process, not a one-time event. These examples can help us get unstuck.
I hope you’re breathing deep and full. (If you’re not, try it now: Inhale for 3-2-1, hold at the top for 3, exhale for 4-3-2-1….Again.) I hope, whether you’re in the US or not, that you are finding spaces where life feels fuller than global capitalism wants it to. I hope you are feeling defiant in your belief that another world is possible.
It’s the only way to get there.
love & solidarity,
raechel
PS: If you’re a regular reader, you know I’ve had another two week lapse. I’m working two jobs now and feeling mega overwhelmed, but I hope to get back to weekly letters soon. I appreciate you sticking around!
Read, Watch, Listen.
Robin DG Kelley on the history and future of the abolition movement. Instagram influencers are buying empty luxury brand bags and I just cannot. Lovecraft Country is intense, amazing, and controversial & the Lovecraft Country Radio podcast has all the behind-the-scenes and Black historical and feminist analysis to couple with it. A history of voter intimidation in the Midwest. The tragic death of Walter Wallace Jr. is a reminder that we need to abolish police and also dramatically revamp our mental health care system. Covid’s impact on Black farmers in Appalachia. This long-but-super-fucking-worth-it piece on embodied anger from healing justice practitioner, Susan Raffo. And this, from writer and organizer Kelly Hayes: “Possibility is the hope we wear when we charge into battle. It is stronger than assumption or reaction because it is intentional. It is an awareness that cannot be snatched away. The knowledge that there is always another ending in play, even if we don’t know what it is. So we charge into the breach if that is the only way forward, because possibility is worth it.”
Mutual Aid.
Most of you know I’m a big fan of Belt - the press that put out my book, and also the sister-online magazine that publishes incredible writing by and for the Rust Belt and Midwest. No parachute journalism, no paying coastal reporters to make assumptions about “Trump country,” no surface-level analysis of stories that actually need context and history. At Belt Magazine (where I now work part-time) we offer an antidote to all of that. We pay writers to tell real stories about the Rust Belt, and we’re not afraid to publish pieces that explicitly name the harms of global capitalism, colonialism, and white supremacy. But, like a lot of independent publications, we’re on a shoe-string budget, and in order to keep paying diverse Rust Belt reporters and build community through storytelling, we need help. This month we’re part of a program called NewsMatch which will match your donation or membership pledge, dollar for dollar. Would you consider supporting this wonderful publication that’s been so good to me and the place so many of us call home? <3
Joy & Attention.
(In addition to the above:) Ponysweat. Autumn lattes from my fave worker-owned coffee shop. Visits with Momma and Bose (kitty) on the front porch. This incredible video of Bose being totally bonkers. This absolutely stunning autumn we’re having. A lovely, safe visit to St. Louis to see L’s family. Sweet snail mail from M. Cat pics from A. Safer Heights, the youth org that continued to organize for a public school levy up to election day. Conversations with S. Math rock. Julie Doiron. A perfect Samhain. Fungi. L’s autumnal baking. Holiday themed media. Beautiful walks. Deer sightings. Voice notes with B, always. Shia LaBeouf. The sweetest friends. Baths. Peppermint tea. #thestew. Dreaming and planting seeds. All of you. <3
...and from the collective. (keep adding to it!)
Your writing is my favorite recent discovery. I just feel so nourished by your genuine hope and the rich way you share from the details of your own life. Thank you for creating this space 💜