The Personal is the Political

I have been staring at a blank screen for quite some time now, trying to figure out where and how to begin an exploration of the current state of things in our country. The divisiveness. The vitriol. Cancel culture. Violence. Where can I begin this conversation and how should I end it and what do I need to put in the middle so that whatever I want to say can be received?

These were the questions I asked my therapist today. How can I do this? Do I need to do this? If so, why?

My political activism started in my early twenties in a way I would describe as public and outward. I was starting organizations on my college campus, attending marches in D.C., writing letters to editors and senators. It was women’s rights, anti-racism, and gay rights. It was exerting my influence as a student leader in college and broadening my knowledge through a women’s studies program in graduate school. I was passionate and determined and found the work satisfying, fulfilling and deeply joyful.

Jumping thirty years ahead to today, my activism has evolved into something much more personal, in that the most important work I am doing these days happens within the relatively small circle of my family, friends, and the community I live in. And it involves doing basically the same thing over and over again, whatever the situation:

• Show up 

• Do/Give/Offer whatever I can

• Don’t worry about who gets credit

And—before, after, and maybe even in between, this:

• Forgive

• Let go

• Forgive

• ...again and again and again

I got a lesson last week in the stratified nature of forgiveness—how easily we can fool ourselves into thinking we’ve forgiven as deeply as we can only to find more layers beneath the ones we’ve managed to rub out. It can take years before we have cause to look down and dig deeper—before an opportunity challenges us to break up all the remnants of whatever old stories required us to forgive someone in the first place. We say “I forgive”, and mean it as much as we can or need to in the current situation, but then something unexpected comes up that shines a light on all the ways our forgiveness has been trapped within very specific circumstances like a beetle in amber. This is when the real transformation begins, when forgiveness offers to guide us to our deepest spiritual work, work that transcends the connection between us and the other person and ripples out into the world in ways we’ll never fathom. 

So what does this have to do with political activism? It has to do with the idea that the personal is the political. It is about whether or not my actions as a human being living in this world at this particular time lift and lighten or drain and draw downward. It is about the example my husband and I set for our family as we deal with whatever challenges land on our doorstep. It is about acknowledging each other as unique, messy, amazing, complex human beings worthy of respect and kindness and worthy of our showing up. It is about listening. LISTENING. It is about looking forward in our relationships and letting whatever happened in the past become smaller as time goes on. It is about remembering that even within the circle of our family we do not know the whole story of someone else’s life. It is about showing up, offering what we can, and not worrying about who gets credit. 

None of this is easy. It is effort that requires, in some situations, constant attention. It is about humility—about recognizing that I, too, have made mistakes and screwed things up. I’ve been mean, rude, and insensitive. I’ve let people down and disappointed those I love. I’ve let my pride guide my choices and I’ve looked down at others for not being as passionate or angry or involved as I was. There have been so many times when I didn’t show up and offer what I could, times when I cared very much about when and how I was going to get credit.

I don’t believe any political activism—however it is expressed and embodied—will be meaningful or terribly effective if I approach it from the standpoint that I am above reproach, perfect and glossy in my beliefs. I don’t find it terribly interesting in situations where curiosity is condemned and honest mistakes lead to immediate, irrefutable judgment. This wouldn’t work in my family and I don’t see it working in our country.

Which is where the rubber meets the road, as they say, for my current activism. If the personal is political, then what I do at home matters—matters most of all—and it informs what I do when I engage with the rest of the world. If it wouldn’t work within the circle of my family, then I’m not going to do it when I walk out my front door. In the midst of the storm we are all caught in right now politically, I see this as good a place to start as any—at home, with those we love most in the world—doing our best to show up and care for each other in whatever way we can. Practicing forgiveness, letting love lead the way.