Activism v. Organizing: My Qualms With People “Helping” The South
Last month I was lucky enough to stumble across the Gay Times article “Everyone’s an “activist.” We need more organizers.” written by Eliel Cruz. Cruz explained the difference between an activist and organizer as these terms have evolved with the rise of social media becoming a huge weapon for change, and communities rooting for positive social (and sometimes radical) change have grown exponentially over the past few years. I highly recommend that you read that article before continuing on here if you want to gain a complete picture of what I am referencing when it comes to organizing v. activism and how community plays into both of these ideas.
Over the past few years I went from calling myself an “activist” to now embracing the title of a “community organizer.” The first time I began to consider this change is when my work with the Sexual Violence Prevention Association (SVPA) led to the creation of UArk SVPA. This organization was founded out of the need for community after I became a survivor of sexual violence during my freshmen year at the University of Arkansas. UArk SVPA has helped me to experience healing through community events and conversation.
Since the inception of UArk SVPA, I began to participate in and start projects that continue to center the communities I come from and care so much about. This journey has led to my research, organizing, and other interests to revolve around the queer U.S. South and queer ruralism as a means of structural change.
My involvement in these spaces is because of my connection to them. I was raised in rural East Texas in a Southern Baptist Church with experiences that are much like my other queer rural siblings (especially the ones from the South). I became a survivor my freshman year of college and it felt right for me to begin fighting to prevent this violence. These things combined with so many of my other experiences has allowed me to embrace all of what I have described above.
I have loved being an organizer up to this point because I love being in community. Regardless of what one Urban citizen may think, I was seeing demonstrations of mutual aid and community care between families in small towns way before I was familiar with these terms. I was lucky enough to be raised in a family with a mom who is a teacher and a dad who is a football coach, these two people would give the shirts off their back to see the children in our community succeed. I experienced this with my friends’ parents, strangers I had never met, and anyone that was lucky enough to live in a rural town for an extended period of time.
To me, this was my first taste of organizing. I understood that it was our responsibility as community members to be kind and give when we could.
There was a stark contrast when I came to the University of Arkansas. Northwest Arkansas (NWA) is a bustling area filled with several Fortune 500 companies, too many nonprofits (arguably), and activists that are worried more about their social media image rather than the community that surrounds them.
This is an unfortunate circumstance, and it definitely shows the impact of different class structures in urban v. rural areas. I cannot completely escape the downfalls of becoming an organizer in NWA, but I have been able to learn about what creates a good community and what props up a space that is all about you (and by “you” I mean me).
I have been in spaces with activists that have been very nice, but there comes a time where I see them come face-to-face with a decision that challenges their morals and they fold in the direction that either boosts their social media following or makes them better liked in the community that is rich, white and morally abhorrent. I cannot completely blame them because it is difficult as young people to sort through what is necessary to get by and live when being organizers is our job (I speak from experience).
Regardless, we must begin talking about these situations in ways that are constructive and also focus on the crucial aspects of mutual aid and community care. At the end of the day, if we are not doing this to be in community with the people that understand us, I must ask what are we doing this for?
Issues with “activists” have evolved into what I sometimes say is “playing in my profession” as a joke. I label myself as a queer Southern organizer, so that people better understand the work I do and it becomes easier to recognize when people share these experiences with me. I understand that these labels are superficial and are subject to change, but I take what I call myself very seriously.
These labels are identities, not just titles that we can strip on and off, but several of my peers don’t seem to understand that what we call ourselves and our rhetoric has real world impact.
I have seen a huge rise of people championing the South, specifically rural areas, as geographic regions that are looking to change. I do not disagree with this sentiment, but these activists do not completely understand what it means to be in the rural South because they grew up in Urban regions. Because of this they begin to create an interesting savior complex through projects that have never centered the voices of whatever area they may be talking about.
In NWA, this often looks like projects that are “saving” the Delta region. The delta is the poorest part of Arkansas, and comprises large black and other non-white populations that have been largely ignored by the state government when it comes to funding in this area. Things must change, but this comes with education, resources, and time spent in community with the people that live in the Delta exploring how they would like to see change come about.
Instead of this being the strategy for many of my peers, some projects take on the title of “helping the Delta region through…” or “helping BIPOC Southern people.” What these projects lack, is the representation and leadership from leading voices in those areas they claim to be helping. I find it hard to believe that you are having a positive impact at all when I have never seen you interact with the communities you claim to be helping while at the same time you are building up a large social media following recording all of the actions you are taking. Clout farming off the simple idea and/or statement that you’re helping people is exploitative in nature, and will never sit right with me.
I am exhausted by the amount of people that come from these Urbanized regions that seem to want to “help” people that they view as less fortunate by creating a catchy tagline that includes those communities when that is the most inclusion I have seen within these projects. This, to me, separates the activists from the organizers.
There is room here to learn why this is bad, but many times “activists” respond in a defensive nature with arguments that must be explained to solidify their ties to the region they are attempting to help, or they completely avoid the conversation altogether. It is time to own up to our mistakes. We all make them. In the moments we refuse to come to terms with how we have negatively harmed people, there is no longer an organizing space/community that is hospitable.
While much of this article serves as a personal rant that I have been meaning to get off of my chest for a long time now, I also want it to be something we all think about when we start projects that are meant to create community. Intentions do not always equal the desired impact, and that is okay. What we learn from those moments allow us to all move forward in community.
With love & power,
Reid
