Image Description: An abstract, vibrant illustration of a light-skinned person with long curly black hair wearing gold earrings, an orange sweater with purple flowers, and bold pants with square patterns in different colors. They are surrounded by giant leaves and flowers. By Alona Savchuk via Unsplash+.
“When the music is strong, the movement is strong.” – Harry Belafonte
In these times when justice is under attack, truth feels fragile, and hope can flicker, it’s culture that keeps us rooted and reaching. As Harry Belafonte reminded us, movements aren’t only built in boardrooms or shaped by policy. They’re born in the heartbeat of community, in the songs we sing, the stories we carry, the rituals we repeat.
Culture is more than expression, it’s resistance. It’s how we remember who we are and imagine what’s possible.
When culture is strong – when art pulses through our organizing, when dance and drums and poetry pour into our protests and planning – our movements for justice are stronger, deeper, more alive. Culture is not decoration. It’s the fire and the fuel.
At IISC, we’re building a living “culture bank”: a collection of music, performances, artwork, and creative expressions that move us and ground us. This is a love letter to the songs that keep us steady, the paintings that call us forward, the practices that tether us to lineage, land, and liberation. Here are some examples:
Staceyann Chin reads The Low Road by Marge Piercy
“This poem by Marge Piercy is a celebration of what is possible when we work and imagine collectively. It acknowledges the strength found not in fleeting moments of glory, but in the consistent, shared labor that builds a better world. It suggests that liberation isn’t a solitary ascent but a collective journey taken together, brick by humble brick, grounded in the profound significance of everyday acts of creation and connection.
Staceyann Chin’s reading emphasizes the power of collective action against oppression and underscores the poem’s central message: while an individual may feel powerless, the impact ripples exponentially when we expand our idea of solidarity.”
Image Description: Illustration of a younger and older woman seated with eyes closed, their long hair flowing together. The older woman reaches out gently, symbolizing ancestral connection. A hummingbird hovers above, with a glowing moon in the background. By Soni López-Chávez.
“As a detribalized Indigenous Mexican, I find deep resonance in the work of Soni López-Chávez, not just in what she creates, but in how and why she creates. Her journey reflects the fragmentation and reclamation so many of us carry: navigating life between nations, languages, and legacies that colonialism tried to sever.
Her art is a bridge across the rift of displacement, an offering, a reclamation, a mirror. Through her work, I see my reflection, a powerful reminder that I am my ancestors’ wildest dreams and that the path of remembrance and reimagining is not only possible but necessary!”
– Shared by Sandra Herrera, IISC Communications & Marketing Manager
“This performance from Usha Jey inspires me to dream, to celebrate fusion, and to remember cross-BIPOC solidarity. As an artist, Usha is so committed to her craft. And as she says, ‘the aim is to keep the essence of each dance and create something that does justice to who I am.'”
We invite you to join us in building this culture bank. What music holds you when the work gets heavy? What art cracks you open and calls you forward? What rituals or rhythms help you remember what you’re fighting for?
Because when the culture is strong, the movement is unstoppable.
Image Description: An illustration of a top-level view of people walking outside, casting long, dark shadows that stretch next to them. By Graphicook Studio via Unsplash+
“The longer I live, the more deeply I learn that love — whether we call it friendship or family or romance — is the work of mirroring and magnifying each other’s light. Gentle work. Steadfast work. Life-saving work in those moments when life and shame and sorrow occlude our own light from our view, but there is still a clear-eyed loving person to beam it back. In our best moments, we are that person for another.”
Maria Popova
These are simultaneously challenging and promising times. These are times in which low vibrations and descendant energies seem to be everywhere. At the same time, offers of higher vibration and ascendant energy exist in many places. In the words of a teaching I recently received from the Brahma Kumaris – “A big old tree coming down makes a loud noise; while the planting and nurturing of seeds goes on in relative quiet. Where are you putting your attention?”
Of course, it is important to defend against efforts that are intended to harm people and to take away their sovereignty. And there is a point at which, if we are all or only responding to negativity, we let that energy set the terms of the conversation and what moves forward. As another teaching goes from Father Richard Rohr – “The best critique of the bad is the practice of the better.”
By now, many of us are on to the tactics being used by those who seek to control the vast majority of humanity that stands for a more just and inclusive society that lives in right relationship with our more-than-human kin. The strategies used by the sick minority include generating fear, which can fuel isolation predicated about threats and misinformation. When these tactics work, people find themselves giving in to the darkness that they sense is growing around them.
But the light is always present, in and around us. What may be required is some fuel. This is where we at IISC see networks and network weaving playing an essential role. To counter forces that would isolate and keep us from one another, we might make and maintain contact with one another. To keep fear from taking hold, we might bring warm-heartedness and generosity to our interactions with one another. To support collective clarity, we might share accurate and timely information with one another and remind each other of what matters most. This is all the work of network weaving, which we might see in our current context as “light work.”
In July 2025, we will host a webinar delving more into all of this with guests who are demonstrating the power of weaving connections, sharing resources, and bringing light and love to places that might surprise you. Stay tuned.
Image description: A colorful illustration of a pink, dark blue, and green mountain next to each other. The background is a pink sky with clouds and a dark orange sun. By Chloé via Unsplash.
On Friday, April 4th, Interaction Institute for Social Change was proud to partner with Food Solutions New England to host its Spring Gathering focused on “bridging work” to advance justice, equity, and fairness. Our guests for this gathering included Troy Sambajon, writer for The Christian Science Monitor, and Soma Saha, Executive Director of Wellbeing and Equity in the World. Between them, Troy and Soma focus their work on community-level efforts to create equitable change that prioritizes those who are least served/most marginalized while weaving stronger, more resilient social bonds that benefit all.
Our conversation centered on how certain people and places are defying mainstream media reports about how hopelessly divided we are as a country by reaching out to one another and engaging in creative “solutionizing” to address hunger, poverty, economic decline, and physical violence. The stories that were shared come from people and places that many might assume would be the last to do such work, including Israeli and Palestinian women and rural communities in the Deep South of the United States working with and on behalf of Black farmers. While not easy, there is no question that these efforts are happening. We at IISC also see this in the long-term consulting work we are doing in places like the Mississippi Delta, Fresno County, California (one of the most diverse areas in our country), and western Massachusetts, where a partnership focused on digital equity unites rural and urban communities and residents of all identities.
We might ask ourselves why these stories are not more widely shared. The answer seems to be that the dominant and evermore consolidated mainstream media tends to thrive on outrage (taking advantage of our innate negativity bias) and that wealthy owners maintain their position by fomenting division. Once you start following the money and information flows, the patterns become quite evident. We are being sold a story that becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy if we choose to believe it and give in to fear, isolation and ongoing misinformation campaigns.
We might also ask how the places that Troy and Soma highlighted, and where we at IISC are working, are cutting through the media morass and stereotypes. Actually, we did ask that! What we heard and shared is that people in those places are willing to reach out to one another. Somehow, they can see or remember that we are all connected. And they make space for actual conversation to happen. These spaces are characterized by care-full tending to processes that always put relationships first, and where listening is crucial. In many cases, this includes at least some meeting time over a meal where people can break bread together. These processes also emphasize that “seeing one another as the problem” is not going to get people very far. Rather, they invite curiosity about systems and structures that are influencing all of us, and often pitting us against each other.
We did not have time to get into much greater depth about the processes that Troy and Soma see being implemented, but from the IISC perspective, we can share some other tips that can help to make things smooth when engaging people in tense and potentially divisive situations:
Do some kind ofbridging and outreach work in advance so that people are not cold-stepping into a shared space with one another. This could include interviews beforehand characterized by empathetic listening.
Pay attention to power dynamics, including who tends to be more central and more peripheral, can be important in terms of creating conditions for equitable engagement.
Make sure you have conversations in places that put people at ease and that are relatively easy to access. You might ask about this in those outreach and bridging interviews.
Have access to natural light and greenery when gathering in person to help settle people.
Sometimesplaying music can be helpful, provided it does not stir up nervous systems too much and has something that everyone might appreciate (you can crowdsource requests in advance).
As a facilitator, you might invite a few people to share something that is personally meaningful to them at the beginning of a conversation. This could be a poem, a memory, an object, or a short story. See more about “The Welcome Table” that we have done at the beginning of the Network Leadership Institute we have facilitated with Food Solutions New England.
Speaking of story, we often find that having some time at the beginning of a gathering for people to share a bit of their story can help to highlight commonalities and get mirror neurons activated. You can read more about this here.
Move slowly and encourage people to be okay with silence …
Invite people to pause between stimulus and response. This might look like asking people to take a step back and watch their reactions to what is happening in the course of the conversation.
Let people know that you are not asking everyone to believe the same thing or to force agreement. At the end of the day, behavior is what matters most, including how people treat one another. We can respect-fully agree to disagree on certain things and still live well together.
Most importantly, it feels foundational to continue to remember that most people share more in common than they do differences. As Mohawk elder Jake Swamp-Tekaronianeken once said, “In the end, everything works together.”
Image description: A soft yellow bird perched on a branch adorned with green leaves, flowers, and red cherries, set against a soft sage green background. By BiancaVanDijk via Pixabay.
In March, our team gathered in North Andover, MA, for an in-person retreat – our first in five years. After half a decade of virtual collaboration and navigating global upheavals, coming together in person felt nothing short of revolutionary. And in the age of 47, with political uncertainty and social justice work more critical than ever, the timing could not have been more important.
For many, it was the first time meeting face-to-face. For others, it was a chance to deepen relationships with longtime colleagues and friends. And, because this room was mostly full of seasoned facilitators, you know we spent time reflecting on process, holding space, and (let’s be honest) probably overanalyzing the agendas. Over three days, we didn’t just talk about collaboration and love; we practiced them, in all their beautiful, messy, necessary forms. And perhaps to the surprise of no one, we reaffirmed that the strength of our work is rooted in the strength of our relationships.
A few takeaways from our time together:
Trust Grows in the Big and Small Moments We Share
Building a culture of trust is something that needs to be nurtured again and again through intentional actions and shared experiences. It’s not a bullet point on a strategic plan. Our retreat was designed to help us build trust in ways both big and small, and each activity played a role in strengthening our collective leadership.
Through laughter, tears, storytelling, sharing meals, nature walks, and so much more, we connected for the sake of connection. We engaged in Aikido, a martial art that teaches balance, fluidity, and responsiveness. Through movement, we explored what it means to be in a relationship with one another, practicing how to meet resistance without aggression and how to move in alignment rather than opposition. These lessons are central to how we navigate power, conflict, and change in our daily work.
To meaningfully close out our time together, we stood shoulder to shoulder in a circle and affirmed our commitment to one another as part of the journey ahead. We picked stones that drew us in, their colors and textures calling to us in various ways. Around the circle, each person had a chance to be heard and seen, and to drop our chosen stones into a jar filled to the brim with others. It was quiet, simple, and deeply powerful. We were reminded that while we each have a part, none of us can do this work alone.
Inclusion Is a Verb
Not everyone could physically be in the room, so we needed to ensure that our affiliates who joined virtually weren’t just passive observers but fully engaged participants. That meant:
Projecting their incredible faces as large as we could into the room.
Carrying a mic to each person speaking so remote participants could hear every voice clearly.
Facetiming them into breakout groups so they could participate in real discussions rather than just listening in.
Giving them key roles in in-person activities, including narrating performances and guiding discussions.
Hybrid spaces can easily feel exclusionary, but we worked to make everyone feel like they were part of the collective experience. A helpful reminder here: Inclusion isn’t just about who’s invited but how they are meaningfully included.
We also created “silent tables” during meals, so folks who didn’t feel like being social could have a space to just be. In a field that often prioritizes extroversion and constant engagement, this was a small but meaningful way to honor different needs.
Sometimes You Need to Dance Through the Hard Stuff
If you’ve attended our trainings before, you know it wouldn’t be an IISC space without joy. Yes, we had deep conversations. Yes, we held space for complexity. But there was also movement, play, and celebration. We shared poetry, sang, played board games, and even had a dance party. This work has always been challenging, and we know it will continue to be. And if we don’t make space for joy, movement, and real connection, we won’t last.
Why does this matter? Because social and racial justice work is long-haul work. Burnout and exhaustion are real, particularly for those historically marginalized, and our ability to sustain ourselves depends on how well we tend to joy, connection, and rest. This isn’t a distraction from the work; it literally is the work. A team that trusts one another and knows how to get through the hard stuff together is a team that can face what comes next with more clarity and strength.
Practice Makes…Better
IISC isn’t perfect. No organization is. We make mistakes, we hit rough patches, and we sometimes struggle to live up to our values. But what makes this work possible and what keeps us moving forward is our commitment to love and relationship.
As we return to our day-to-day work, we carry these lessons with us: the power of presence, the necessity of trust, and the radical act of making space for joy. After five years apart, this retreat was a reminder that our culture always needs tending to and that how we show up for one another while doing this important work really matters.
To everyone who made this gathering meaningful, thank you. May we continue to build a stronger ‘we’ and find ways to move forward.
Photo of over 20 IISC staff members at a retreat space in early March.Leave a commentApril 2, 2025
A black background features an abstract outline resembling the Earth at its center, with bold, vibrant flowers blooming within. Beneath it, overlapping circles in various colors create a dynamic, layered foundation. By Yeti Iglesias via Unsplash+
“Food for us comes from our relatives, whether they have wings or fins or roots. That is how we consider food. Food has a culture. It has a history. It has a story. It has relationships.”
Winona LaDuke
This past week, I had the opportunity to co-create and curate with my colleague Karen Spiller the first ever “food justice track” for the national conference hosted by The Privilege Institute (TPI) in Hartford, Connecticut. TPI has long been committed to helping people understand the systems of supremacy and oppression that continue to harm and marginalize growing numbers of people and our more-than-human kin, and to supporting “solutionizing” our way forward through diverse collaborations. As participants in and presenters at past TPI conferences, and as co-stewards of the Food Solutions New England’s Network’s equity leadership efforts, Karen and I were grateful to be invited by TPI founder Dr. Eddie Moore, Jr. to host this track on food systems and what they have to do with just, sustainable and thriving communities. And we are very thankful for the generous financial support provided by the RWJF Special Contributions Fund of the Princeton Area Community Foundation for this work.
Our track featured five sessions intended to ground people in historical and current impacts of efforts to control food, land and water in establishing caste systems and hierarchies of human value, as well as to highlight more humane, dignified and eco-logical alternatives for our collective food future. Our flow of offerings included workshops focused on:
“The Love Ethic” and Work for Food Justice, facilitated by Karen Spiller and yours truly under the auspices of both Food Solutions New England and the Interaction Institute for Social Change.
Right Relationship Across Race, Ethnicity, Gender, Class, Age, Geography and Sectors, hosted by Noel Didla and Liz Broussard Red of the Center for Mississippi Food Systems.
For a larger version of this food systems map, go to this link.
“If you really want to make a friend, go to someone’s house and eat with them. The people who give you their food give you their heart.”
Cesar Chavez
There was a lot of engaged discussion in and across the sessions, and a common commitment to creating spaces that could hold complexity and honor the multiplicity of our individual and collective selves (one definition we offer for “love”). Along the way, what surfaced was the power of focusing on food to help people understand more about where we are as communities, a country and world, and how we might move forward together. A few related reflections:
Appreciation was expressed in several sessions for helping participants understand food as a system. For even considerably educated people, the complex networks that bring food to our plates can remain largely invisible. Whether we are talking about farm/fisheries inputs, production, aggregation, processing, distribution, eating, or resource recapture, there is an amazing and diverse array of players and interactions providing us with our daily meals. This awareness can be empowering and help us understand that the daily choices we make as eaters really matter, and that some of us have fewer choices than others.
In most of our sessions, we invited people to consider and share stories related to food. Our experience is that this is always connective in a number of different ways. As a species we have long had shared stories around meals, such that there is much about eating that can bring to mind memories of various kinds. Through our work with Food Solutions New England, we have been encouraging people to share stories of joy related to food, which anyone can do through this “joy mapping” link. Even when memories around food are painful, feeling seen, validated and perhaps understood when we share them with others who have had similar experiences can be very helpful.
For some people, the notion of “food as medicine” was very eye-opening and inspiring. Nutritious food that is not simply caloric can be a balm for our bodies and spirits. The way we grow food can help heal the Earth, especially when we adopt regenerative approaches, including agroecological techniques. When we share a meal, it can bring us closer to one another and even heal divides or advance respect for and understanding of one another. And because food is intimately linked to culture, when we reconnect with and reclaim our food traditions and share them with others, it can be tremendously restorative.
It was also very eye-opening for people to understand that the dominant food system we have in this country is grounded in a legacy of colonialism, the plantation economy and extractive approaches that have repressed people’s foodways and controlled their diets. This continues today in many rural and urban communities where grocery chains and “dollar stores” owned by those from outside those communities import overly processed foods (bypassing local producers and more nutritious options), offer low-paying jobs often with challenging working conditions and extract profits from those communities. Furthermore, continued consolidation of food-related enterprises means that the rich keep getting richer while everyone else fights for scraps.
“Eating is so intimate. … When you invite someone to sit at your table and you want to cook for them, you’re inviting a person into your life.”
Maya Angelou
The good news is that there is much we can do as eaters, community members, voters and caring people to support food systems that promote equitable wellbeing and connect us to what matters most in life. This is what we pointed to in each of our workshop sessions, and that we will once again do through the annual Food Solutions New England 21-Day Racial Equity Habit Building Challenge, which starts on April 7th and for which IISC has been a core partner since its launch in 2015. The Challenge is free and open to all, and requires registration to receive daily emails and links to many resources focused on how we can build a “bigger we” for the more beautiful world we know is possible. There are also opportunities to be in virtual community with others participating in the Challenge. You can find more information here.
P.S. We have been invited to replicate and expand the food justice track at next year’s TPI Conference in Seattle, Washington. Stay tuned for more updates.
“Food is strength, food is peace, and food is freedom.“
“Connections create value. The social era will reward those organizations that realize they don’t create value all by themselves. If the industrial era was about building things, the social era is about connecting people, ideas and things.”
-Nilofer Merchant (entrepreneur, business strategist, author)
Image description: A watercolor illustration of forest filled with mushrooms and trees whose canopies resemble mushroom tops. A winding path, glowing softly in yellow, leads deeper into the scene, inviting exploration. From Allison Saeng via Unsplash+.
Our new Communications Manager, Sandra Herrera, asked a great question the other day: “Why is network weaving needed now?” She wasn’t offering this as a doubtful challenge, but to help us to hone our messaging around why more people should consider the power of tending to connectivity in these times.
The first three things that occurred to me in answer to Sandra’s question were the following:
Isolation is hazardous to our sense of wellbeing; or viewed positively, connectedness is an important social determinant of health.
Crisis demands creativity and to be creative we need connectionsto others, and in particular to do bridging work with those of diverse experiences and perspectives.
Feeding other people with helpful and uplifting informationand resources, and seeking this from those around us, can bring both light and warmth to a world that can sometimes feel is lacking.
It is important to acknowledge that not every connection is necessarily good for us. We can be negatively impacted or harmed by those around us and by some of the information and energies that come our way. At the same time, it is also important to understand that we humans can be driven by a “negativity bias” that makes us overly vigilant about potential threats. While it might be wise to pull back into our comfort zone at times, hunkering down and only being with those who are like us sets up a trap of thinking and acting in predictable and limited ways.What’s more, if everyone pulls back, we lose access to latent potential and abundance.
Innovation happens through encounters with different experiences and ways of looking at the world. Sometimes to see clearly, we must over-compensate for our tendencies to shrink and stretch beyond our comfort zones to test some of our assumptions about the dangers “out there.”
For more on the adaptive cycle, see the work of C.S. Holling
The adaptive cycle (see image above) teaches us that as systems falter, unravel and release energy (which is necessary to remain vital and adapt to changing context), certain “critical connections” (to use the words of long-time community organizer Grace Lee Boggs) must be maintained. In addition, it is very important that investment be made in the seeding of new possibilities. In the human realm, this includes an infusion of positive exploratoryenergy. So-called “positivity” (see the work of clinical research psychologist Barbara Fredrickson, PhD) is not a pollyannish state removed from reality. Rather, it’s a stance of openness and curiosity that provides some balance to our negativity bias, which can help us to see possibility in other people and our surroundings for the sake of renewal and regeneration. In other words, the nature and quality of what we bring to and feed our connections really matters!
“Network theory suggests that what a system becomes emerges from the complex, responsive relationships of its members, continuously developing in communication.”
–Esko Kilpi (sociologist, process management consultant)
All of this is especially crucial right now, as the forces that are consolidating wealth and power attempt to disrupt attempts to build solidarity across movements for justice, fairness and equity. The study of “flow networks” applied to economics shows that we have been in this kind of “oligarchic cycle” before. Oligarchies (rule by the few) and “oligarchic capitalism” (an economic system run by and for the benefit of the elites) maintain themselves in part through the spread of narratives that justify growing disparities driven by sociopathic and extractive practices. Ideas like “the divine right of kings/capital,” “supremacy,” and “survival of the fittest” still have many believing that those who have a lot (not to mention way more than they need) somehow earned/deserve it.
The antidote to this is sharing a different story rooted in the historical view that humanity has evolved over centuries through a sense of mutualism, sharing and pooling information, learning collaboratively and cooperating creatively. The “winner takes all” approach does not stand up to our understanding of what contributes to long-term human thriving. All the more reason to weave more intricate and robust networks of all kinds.
Interested in learning more? Check out some of the hyperlinks above, and search for other posts on our website focused on “networks” and “network weaving.”
And consider joining us for this upcoming training on “Network Weaving for Social Healing in Times of Great Change” (March 27, 3:00-5:00 pm ET) or contact us to learn about other similar and related offerings that might be brought to your organization.
Image Description: Illustration of colorful valleys and peaks with the sun partially visible on the horizon in the distance. Getty Images via Unsplash.
There are many ways to measure time and multiple timelines unfolding at once. As the Year of the Snake begins and Q1 winds down, we (like many others) are juggling various practical, essential tasks: finalizing contracts, submitting reimbursements, and strategizing responses for the shifting funding landscape. We’re balancing these practical tasks with the metaphysical work of connecting with our values, intention setting, and reflection. This balance led us to revisit reflections from our colleagues who attended Race Forward’s biennial racial justice conference, Facing Race. That post-conference debrief quickly bloomed to include the wonderings, longings, and commitments we’re weaving into the months and years ahead.
We offer some of those reflections, takeaways, and questions here. May you also have time to attune to your longings and commitments (individual and collective) amidst the demands of this moment.
Democracy is a tall order, especially in a multiracial context. Post-conference and post-election, folks spoke of a deeper appreciation for the complex task of creating democratic processes when there isn’t a shared history, identity, experience, or geography on which to scaffold our efforts. We ask: How do we redefine “winning” so that all of us get our needs met?
Movement dogma — and the corresponding elitism — has reached a point of diminishing returns. Over the past decade some of our progressive movement practices have calcified into gospel that can’t be questioned without conflict. Additionally, some of our key concepts and tenets – like DEI and inclusion– have been reduced to buzzwords. The meaning behind the words gets diluted. And often the terms are US-centric, undermining our potential for international solidarity. In this moment, shared understanding and deep reciprocal learning need to be prioritized over semantics. We ask: How can we practice rigor without rigidity? How can we amplify true alignment instead of pressuring ourselves to conform to elitist-coded ideals?
“We will rescue ourselves through democracy, not in spite of it,” said Kim Anderson, Executive Director, National Education Association (NEA). We need each other. Connection and attunement are key across our multiple and layered differences, so that we can deepen our understanding of each other’s fears and motivations, needs and desires, gifts and strengths. Democracy doesn’t mean that we always agree, but that we turn towards each other, tune in, and find some agreement. It means that we prioritize ways of being that hold sacred our common humanity and the gift of life on this planet. We ask: How can we listen, collaborate and network to leverage each other’s skills, interests, and capacities for the benefit of all life?
Organizers have been strategizing for this moment. As a whole, IISC operates as a capacity-building nonprofit and is a step removed from front line organizing. Many of our practitioners come from political organizing backgrounds and/or participate in organizing efforts. Even the seasoned among us are working to get clear about how to organize in this moment and in this landscape. Folks who attended Facing Race were energized to hear from organizers who offered strategies and plans to meet this moment, like People’s Action. We ask: How can we infuse our capacity-building with an organizer’s mindset (i.e., amplifying people power, building critical connections, championing principled struggle)? How can we prioritize supporting organizers?
What questions are you and your community holding as you navigate this moment? What answers are emerging as you wonder? If you want to work or wonder together, know that we’re always here.
This Black History Month is a harder one than most. It’s a marker of a terrible moment when our president is calling for an end to racial justice and diversity, equity, inclusion, and accessibility (DEIA) programs. His actions are fueling the resurgence of white nationalism and scaring institutions to backtrack on their equity work. The stakes are high: hostile workplaces, preferences for jobs and opportunities to the elite, and an erasure of Black, Indigenous, and People of Color history. And this doesn’t have to happen on our watch. There is much we can and must do together to ensure these next four years don’t set America back for decades. There’s a lot of faulty information and fear out there. We don’t have to settle for it.
This month and beyond, we need to tap into the strength and love of Black history to move forward boldly. Below are ways we can do this.
1. Support civil rights and civil liberties legal organizations.
Civil rights and liberties organizations are already filing lawsuits to stop the implementation of orders that attempt to dismantle racial justice, DEIA, LGBTQ+ rights, and immigrant protections. Many executive orders signed by past administrations, including the current one, have been knocked down, in part or in full because they violated the US Constitution and civil rights laws from Title VII to the Americans with Disability Act. We can stand against discrimination and unfair practices. We can support the organizations fighting in the courts. Organizations run by Black leaders and legal institutions such as the NAACP Legal Defense Fund, the Lawyer’s Committee for Civil Rights, the Protecting DEI Coalition, and organizations like ACLUs around the country are pivotal to the strategy to challenge racist and discriminatory policies.
2. Remember your power and independence if you’re not in the federal government.
The administration’s most recent policies apply most directly to the federal government, although there are attempts to influence the private sector and others to follow suit. If you don’t receive or if you reject federal funding and contracts, and you are a non-profit, a charitable foundation, or a private company or business, you can use this opportunity to hold the line. Unless Congress or your state passes new laws, continue to move forward with your racial justice and equity work and don’t look back. Even when laws are passed, check in with your networks to understand the actual implications. For example, if certain words are targeted, you can still do critical anti-oppression work. Here is an example from leaders in climate justice about how to remain conscious of disparate impacts in your policy and legislative work. Let’s also support the organizations and brave leaders who are standing up to protect federal employees and civil rights in federal agencies.
3. Amplify and advance your racial justice work.
Consider all the benefits it has brought you. At IISC, as we partner with organizations and cities to build out racially just and equitable practices, we’ve seen firsthand how they become better institutions and agencies as a whole. They seed new ideas, improve outcomes for people and communities, recruit and retain collaborative leaders, and center humane workplace practices that benefit all. In fact, in the report, Blocking the Backlash: The Positive Impact of DEI in Nonprofit Organizations, nonprofit workers were most positive about the workplace when their organizations employed five or more diversity, equity, and inclusion strategies. And we know that employee morale just makes good economic and common sense.
If you pause your racial justice and equity work, you can expect to be left behind by organizations who will benefit from diverse approaches, to lose your best employees if they don’t feel valued or respected, and to be exposed to lawsuits from employees who experience discrimination. We must show what happens if we don’t advance racial justice and equity work. If we see trends toward toxic workplaces, violence, and poorer health, employment, and educational outcomes, let the media and our communities know about it.
4. Stand up and be visible and bring in new allies.
Recently, I was on a call with 3,500 Black women leaders around the country fighting for civil rights and justice. They are clear that we are too quiet at this moment. We must make the time and muster the confidence to contact those who can influence change quickly: policymakers, companies we do business with, social media organizations, and media outlets that have rolled back their equity and democracy commitments. We can protest in our streets, neighborhoods, and workplaces. We can put a spotlight on what’s wrong and remind our country of the benefits of inclusion, shared power, and repair. We can ask for help from other leaders and organizations if we get attacked. Let’s keep expanding our movements by identifying new allies who share our values. Let’s be proactive and reach for people who have not yet joined us. For example, think about veterans, parents, rural communities, working-class communities, labor unions, and faith-based communities who share our values.
5. Move into leadership everywhere you are.
If you are a BIPOC or white leader, or leader of any background, who understands what it means to create a better workplace and institution by investing in racial justice and equity, we need you to stand up against the backlash and push forward the broader vision of collective wellbeing. The movement for racial justice has never been a single-issue movement. Racial justice is immigrant justice, gender justice, trans justice, and economic justice. Fight for all and stand together. Join the ranks of leaders in communities and institutions of all kinds who are pursuing justice. Run for school board and other municipal-level positions, or state and federal office. Become board chair of an organization or company. Seek support from those in similar positions so you can build coalitions and protect one another if attacks come your way. Gain allies and champions and do the work that you know is necessary to defend hard-fought victories, protect the most vulnerable people in our communities, and build toward a bold future in which we all thrive.
We have a lifetime to stand tall and powerful against assaults on our communities and to build a better and enduring future. Even though damage will be done over the next four years, let’s remember that the struggle for civil and human rights is as old as the country itself. Some of our civil rights laws have been around for sixty years while others have been in place since the first Reconstruction Era. For the past fifty years and more we’ve seen the power of working for justice by developing and implementing diversity, equity, inclusion, and accessibility policies and practices.
You can’t take away what has been learned, built, and integrated into our minds, hearts, and structures that easily. The muscle has been developed and the space has been claimed. We don’t have to comply. We can be courageous in collaboration as we continue working together to build the future we all need and want.
Need support in this moment? We’ve got you. See Resources in the Age of 47, our living document filled with tools for action, resilience, and justice. Updated weekly—share it with your networks!
Note to readers: This blog is based on IISC’s internal exploration of shared leadership in our organization, our work with clients, and conversations with leadership practitioners in the Knowledge Share Group, a partnership of capacity and infrastructure building organizations around the country. I particularly want to thank Miriam Messinger, Sara Oaklander, Cynthia Silva Parker, and Jasmine Williams of IISC , as well as Shannon Ellis of CompassPoint, for their ideas which sharpened this blog post.
What is shared leadership in nonprofits and philanthropy? And why are some organizations turning to different leadership models to sustain their organization’s work, forge transformative collaboration, and generate powerful intergenerational models of running organizations? IISC and many of our peers in the Knowledge Share Group1 believe that shared leadership is a better model for the future of the nonprofit sector.
Why Shared Leadership?
Leadership and organizational models that rely on the one executive leader or the senior leadership team for success are not serving our organizations and communities. Leadership concentrated in the hands of a few leaves an organization vulnerable to a number of pitfalls: uninformed decision-making, deep inequities, limited perspectives in strategic direction setting, underutilized and disempowered staff, disruptive executive transitions, and exhaustion for leaders who hold too much responsibility.
We believe executive directors and other senior staff have a choice. They can continue to hold concentrated power and make decisions independently, or they can embrace shared leadership for collective action and responsibility. It is the latter that enables us to most fully live our missions and expand democracy. We must do everything we can to support leadership in all the places it exists in our organizations.
What is Shared Leadership?
Shared leadership is an evolving concept and practice. It’s one of the most compelling options social justice communities are experimenting with to heal our relationships with traditional manifestations of power, authority, and dominance. Based on IISC’s experience and learnings from the Knowledge Share Group, I define shared leadership as the ethos, structures, processes, practices, and behaviors that promote the equitable distribution and decentralization of information, roles, authority, decision-making, and labor.
What are the Key Features of Shared Leadership?
Nonprofits are essentially a network of people, programs, and ideas working together for transformative social outcomes. Shared leadership fuels that network, with more people generating and carrying out ideas for greater impact, and doing so in more equitable ways.
There are are five key features of shared leadership:
All people in the organization are viewed and operate as leaders, mutually accountable to a set of values and practices that are in service of collective goals. They make major decisions together and trust others for the rest.
They are mindful of and attend to the needs of the whole organization and how their work impacts the whole. And they take note of critical organizational gaps and see to it that they are filled. They build redundancies in roles and create back-up plans in the event someone is unavailable to work.
Shared leadership moves away from the notion that the solo leader or executive team has carte blanche to develop and implement solutions to problems in an organization. And instead moves toward a model that centers decentralization and multiracial and multigenerational leadership, with decision-making and problem-solving shared across the organization. It fosters what we teach at IISC –Facilitative Leadership, which is an intentional practice of creating the conditions for transformational collaboration in which people do their best work together to achieve optimal results.
Shared leadership assumes that power2 is not finite and can be meaningfully shared. It requires a shift in heartset and mindset from “it’s about me” to “it’s about us,” and from “power over” to “power with.” It dismantles concentrations of power and dominance, and prevents extraction, while creating environments where trust-building, transparency, and creative autonomy are cultivated and can flourish.
Shared leadership doesn’t necessarily mean an end to executive roles or hierarchy or even the creation of a completely flat organizational structure. Organizations can implement the values and practices of shared leadership within a myriad of different organizational models and structures. The key is that senior leaders and managers are not in a dominant position where they control the fate of the organization or its employees. They are instead part of the ecosystem with information and decision-making flowing across the organization.
What is IISC’s Evolving Shared Leadership Model?
At IISC, we are about to implement a network-based team model, and we are experimenting along the way, building off of our longstanding commitment and internal practices of collaboration and distributed leadership. We believe it will enable us to harness the leadership, creativity, and ideas of all of us who work for IISC.
In our model, we are experimenting with what we call shared and equitable leadership. We will have a single president and multiple teams convened by hosts and supported by facilitators that will make decisions for their areas, while other teams will provide cross-functional input and expertise to ensure the teams are connected around strategy. Ad hoc teams – each with a unique and time-bound task – are also part of this model.
A center-holding group with membership from the various teams will weave the domains of activity and ensure people have what they need and are empowered to make change in their domains. This group will also have a host and facilitator and will include the president of IISC, and it will shift in membership as the organization’s needs change and members rotate. The group will include people with different roles and tenures in the organization, not based on their seniority or executive functions.
BIPOC and next generation leaders will be prioritized to ensure that we don’t replicate the negative attributes of white dominant culture or rely on time in the organization as a proxy for knowledge and influence. The model assumes healthy redundancies so if people shift in and out of the organization, take on different roles, or attend to health or personal crises, we will be resilient and not fall off course from our goals. The distinction between part-time and full-time staff will only be the hours they work, not how much influence they have over the organization.
This model will initially take time to implement and decision-making may be slower at the start as people learn to trust each other and move into formation. Most people are accustomed to traditional hierarchy and know instinctively how to operate in that kind of system. It can be hard for people familiar with holding positional power to adjust to letting go of making decisions, especially when they may disagree with those decisions. And for people newer to decision-making, it takes time to build confidence and skills, and to accept accountability for the impacts of those decisions. Patience is needed and power struggles and mistakes will invariably happen. Staff need information, tools, and experience to get their feet planted and take initiative. And once they do, we expect creativity and problem solving to expand and positively impact the organization.
In my case, as president of IISC, I am already experiencing the benefits of this new approach as we pilot some aspects of it. Fewer people are coming to me for answers or expecting me to make decisions. Generative conflict is surfaced and negotiated at individual and team levels and rarely comes through to me to resolve. I’m less fatigued and more inspired. I can more fully focus on what I believe are my essential roles of strategy, partnership-building, board development, fundraising, and program work. I am now more of a coach, offering questions for people to explore and occasional wisdom for those who are really stuck.
But there are tough realities to face as we experiment with parts of the model. We cannot always keep up with the flow of decisions that are needed or handle the bigger ones quickly. In the end, though, I am already finding that the quality of our decisions are better. And when we face tougher times, either organizationally or financially, we tend to find ourselves reverting to old habits of command and control. We have to remember to snap ourselves out of old practice and reprioritize our values and return to our new model. And in the end, we’re becoming a more dynamic and responsible organization because of shared and equitable leadership.
Do You Want to Try on Shared Leadership?
Shared leadership can lead to more effective organizations as diverse minds and expertise are applied to solving problems. It can achieve more balance in the lives of people as decision-making, responsibilities, and burdens are shared across the organization.
Shared leadership rocks the boat. For many of us, it’s not what we’re used to. And it liberates people to act on their visions and solutions which improves organizational performance and cracks impenetrable systems of oppression that we live and work under.
What would it look like to try shared leadership practices and experiments in your organization or institution? Where are you having success with shared leadership? Please comment.
The Knowledge Share Group is a partnership of capacity and infrastructure building organizations in the United States. The groups include Change Elemental, CompassPoint, Crossroads Antiracism Organizing & Training, Interaction Institute for Social Change, ProInspire, and Rockwood Leadership Institute.↩︎
James Shelton III at the PolicyLink Equity Summit 2018 defined power simply and clearly as “power is the ability to create, limit or make choices for oneself or others.” ↩︎
Over the past few years, I have had the privilege of getting to know and work with food justice advocates in the state of Mississippi through the Mississippi Food Justice Collaborative and the Mississippi Food Policy Council. On two occasions, as a part of visits to Jackson, Mississippi, I’ve had the opportunity to go on the wonderful civil rights tour provided by Frank Figgers. Mr. Figgers is a graduate of Tougaloo College, where he worked with the Jackson Human Rights Project, founded by Howard Spencer, a SNCC field organizer and former civil rights worker. While working with the Jackson Human Rights Project, Mr. Figgers met, worked with, and developed relationships with other former civil rights workers. He is an absolutely captivating storyteller, who has filled in many gaps in my own historical knowledge, and provided numerous corrections to the education I received.
Touring Jackson, we made stops at a number of different historical landmarks, including the Smith Roberston Museum and Cultural Center (once Smith Robertson Elementary School, the first public school for African-American children in Jackson), the Farish Street Historical District (known as a hub for Black-owned businesses up until the 1970s), the Greyhound bus station at 219 North Lamar Street (where many arrests were made during the 1961 Freedom Rides), Tougaloo College (established by descendants of slaves aboard the Amistad and an institution that has at the forefront of the Civil Rights Movement in Mississippi), and Medgar and Myrlie Evers Home National Historical Monument (where Medgar Evers was fatally shot in 1963). Mr. Figgers narrated key and often dramatic events while those of us in the large van he was driving listened intently and as if we were watching events play out in front of us.
Exhibits inside the Mississippi Civil Rights Museum
A common refrain that Mr. Figgers used, in pointing out how “everyday people” stepped up to fight for their and other’s rights amidst oppression and violence was – “They did what they could, with what they had, where they were.” As he said this, he scanned our faces in the back of the van, his eyes widening behind his glasses, and then smiled as a final point of exclamation. Even in the face of truly terrorizing circumstances, people stood up. They stood up. They did something. So many acts of tremendous courage, large and small. So many people, everyday people, finding ways. Making ways.
“They did what they could, with what they had, where they were.”
Something about those words continued to work through me, and so was the case for others who were on the tour, as we talked about it later. They’ve been echoing in my head more loudly recently, as I feel the strain in my body and mind related to escalating challenges and suffering around us.
*******
Another story recently came to mind as Mr. Figgers’ words have been working on me. Not long out of college, I created and ran a youth service program for middle and high school students in upstate New York. My first summer organizing the program was spent in the most rural and economically poorest part of the county where I was based. We had assembled a group of about ten middle schoolers who were motivated to help others or simply looking for something to do with their time in the summer months. We got involved with the local food pantry, learned a lot about hunger in the county and country, did some painting and cleaning work on a couple of historical buildings needing love and care, and made ourselves available to those in the community unable to do certain things for themselves.
About mid-way through the summer, as more people heard about our work, we received a call about an elderly woman who was legally blindand lived by herself. The town works department was coming to her house to fix some sewage pipes and in the process of digging up a portion of her back yard to do so, they were going to have to take down a few of her young fruit trees out back. Could we come and move them for her, a neighbor who was calling on her behalf wondered? The youth were very eager to assist, and on a blistering hot day we arrived with gloves on and shovels ready. Approaching the house I gasped a little – the structure looked like it was held together by little more than hope. We met the woman outside. She wore darkened glasses and was leaning on a walker. She welcomed us and promptly guided us to the trees out back. After some basic instructions, we got to work and spent a few hours digging holes, moving and watering trees, packing soil, adding some fertilizer, and then – with sweat pouring down our faces – felt satisfied that the job was complete.
The woman was delighted and, smiling behind her darkened lenses, asked if she could give us something in return. Without waiting for an answer she told us to follow her. We went inside her house and she waved us in the direction of the door behind her where we found the stairs to her cellar. We were then instructed to flick the switch at the top of stairs, descend, and “pick anything you like.” The kids and I looked at each other, a little uncertain. I went ahead and led the way. Once at the bottom of the creaky stairs, we looked around to see dust-covered shelves on all sides of a single unfinished room, completely packed with jars. Jars full of fruits, vegetables, jams, and pickled this-and-that. Hundreds of jars.We were completely floored. After taking a few minutes to absorb the incredible array, we each selected a jar that looked good to us and went back up stairs.
“You do all of that?” one of the girls asked once we were all gathered back in her kitchen.
“Yup,” said the woman, matter-of-factly.
“And you gonna eat all of that?” asked one of the boys.
The woman laughed. “Oh no,” she said. “I send most of those to the needy.”
There was silence in the kitchen as we worked that over in our minds.
She continued. “I give them to people in my church to send to people overseas who are hungry or experiencing difficulties like earthquakes.”
The kids nodded, clearly still working that through in their minds.
Well, let’s just say that gave us a lot to talk about during our van ride back to the kids’ homes. Despite all appearances, this elder, officially living at the poverty level, legally blind and physically limited, was doing what she could, with what she had, where she was.
A nice coda to the story is that the kids decided they wanted to learn how to do canning themselves and wondered if the woman would teach them. I reached out through the neighbor, the woman agreed, and we ended up donating what we produced (fruit jams) to the local food pantry where we had begun our summer of service work.
*******
I am not going to lie. There are days when I feel completely overwhelmed. I look at what I see as the challenges we face in this country and world and I wonder, “How on earth…? It’s too much! It’s just too much.” And then I think of Mr. Figgers and the everyday people of the historical and current day civil rights movement in Mississippi and other places. And I think of “The Canning Lady,” (as she came to be called by the kids in our service group), and so many others like her that do what they can everyday with whatever they have wherever and however they are. And that’s enough to eventually right me.
Part of this righting is remembering is that it is not just about me! It is about doing my part, making the contribution(s) that I can make. To riff on a phrase I often use in supporting the creation of social change networks, it’s also about “doing my best, and then connecting to and trusting the rest.” That’s why I am such a big fan of networks, of making more loving links between people and places. Imagine more of us doing what we can, where we are, with what we have, and weaving it all into something larger. Something even more beautiful. As a poet once said, we might just make a world like that.
In these times of splitting and splintering, I keep in mind a powerful experience from a few years ago when a team of us were working with a climate resilience planning initiative in the South Bronx in New York City. We had been brought in to support city planners and engineers in creating and facilitating a community engagement process that would generate ideas for resilient energy systems with other community benefits (education, jobs), while also building stronger relationships within the community and between community members and government officials. The way we did this was essentially by humanizing the process, reducing barriers to accessing and sharing information and importantly reducing barriers standing in the way of people accessing one another.
What this meant was that we chose meeting spaces that felt like community spaces, not official government meeting rooms. We slowed the process down overall, made sure that any information presented was done in non-jargon heavy ways with plenty of opportunity for people to ask questions and with translation services available. We also brought music into the room, at the start and end of meetings, as well as other creative art forms during certain portions of the process so that community members could express more fully their hopes and concerns through different media. For evening meetings we served delicious locally-catered food. Childcare was available for parents who wanted that support. And as facilitators, we treated everyone as if they had something to offer, no matter their age or official position, and assumed all wanted the best for the community.
Public meeting held in community center theater space
Predictably, in the early going, some long standing social-political dynamics and suspicions showed up. People seemed to be really good at and used to playing their respective roles – buttoned up officials, ardent (and occasionally angry) community organizers, business owners thinking mainly about their own livelihood, etc. But over time you could feel things start to shift as people understood that this was a different kind of process. There was more laughter and joy in the space, less posturing, softening of tone, and more engagement with one another outside of official roles and meeting times.
This all culminated in a particular moment when the city official with whom we worked most closely had to share some difficult news at a public meeting from one of the engineering analyses that was not well received by many community members. Tempers flared in the room, and just when it seemed we were going to come to a complete stalemate, the official with whom we were working cried out, “Look, I’m on your side! I want this to work for you. We’ve been trying to figure this out but it’s not that easy.” For a moment this person looked like they were going to burst into tears, holding their head in their hands.
That public display of emotion, of vulnerability, was followed by what felt like a long silence, and then one of the lead community organizers looked at our facilitation team, seemed to sigh with their entire body, stood with hands outstretched and said, softly, “Let us help you. That’s why we’re here.” That exchange broke what might have been the spell that returned us to the predictable story of “us vs them.” It opened up possibility and kept us going and eventually led to agreement on a path forward.
“That’s why we’re here.”
Not to fight or prove who’s right.
Not to keep an old tired and fatiguing pattern going.
Not to waste more precious time, money and other resources.
But to figure out how to make sure that people and communities are safe in the face of whatever may come.
And to do that figuring, TOGETHER.
That is the bigger promise of collaboration from our humble and long-standing perspective at IISC, having supported hundreds of collaborative ventures over the past 30 + years: to bring our different needs, perspectives, talents and ideas together to make something better, for everyone. This notion used to be seen as almost pollyannish in some circles up until about about 15 years ago. Then it became much more accepted as people grappled with increasingly complex issues and challenges. More recently it has been seen as needed but perhaps a near impossibility in some places because of pronounced pain and polarization.
And still what we know is that now more than ever, we need each other. As trite as it may sound, difference and diversity are truly our strength. And we know that we have far more in common than we do differences. Most of us share a core set of common values, most of us want something better, better than what we have in many communities and this country right now. Some of us may be tired and perhaps frightened. Yet we cannot avoid the truth that we are in this together. We certainly are beingtested to learn to live and work together in new ways. What if we saw this as an opportunity to show what we are truly made of and might become? This could actually happen if we were to reach toward one other in good faith, from a spirt of deep caring, and with curiosity, humility, and determined hope.
Image by Emily Bergquist, shared under provisions of Creative Commons Attribution license 2.0.
“We must move ourselves beyond resistance and survival, to flourishment and ‘mino bimaadiziwin’(the good life).“
Leanne Betasamosake Simpson
“The challenge is to replace practices that distance and disconnect with ones that evoke empathy, caring, and creativity.”
Carol Sanford
NOTE: This is a slightly revised version of a post that appeared about a year and a half ago. We live, we learn, and so some of the overall framing and details have shifted, but the essence here remains the same …
In our collaborative change work with organizations and multi-organizational networks, we at IISC are adamant about doing thoughtful “stakeholder analysis” at the start of an initiative, and returning to this work periodically, asking the question, “Who are we missing or not seeing?” As important as this can be, not everyone loves the word “stakeholder.” It can sound somewhat wonky and impersonal, and I myself have been thinking about the word “stake” and what it says about people.
To have a stake means “to have a share, interest, or involvement in something or someone.” Going back to the early 1700s, a stakeholder was one to whom money was deposited when making a wager/bet. And in the colonizing of what is now the United States, stakes were literally placed on lands that were stewarded by Indigenous peoples as a way of claiming ownership of them. What none of this conveys is a sense of care or caring. I don’t mean whether or not someone cares (or is indifferent), but whether there is a genuine heartfelt/embodied sense of connection or deep desire to participate, protect, co-create and/or contribute. Increasingly, this sense of care and caring (along with reckoning and making amends) is showing up as a crucial factor in making the work of complex collaborative (systemic and culture) change happen.
Recently, Anne Heberger Marino tweeted something about translating “stakeholders” to “careholders” in her/their mind to get beyond “detached objectivity.” I really like and resonate with that! And it goes beyond the term I had been playing with that still felt a bit detached – “interest-holder.” Playing with language seems to raise some interesting possibilities. In general, when we at IISC work with partners to consider who might been engaged in collaborative social change work, we uplift the following categories/criteria (applied to individuals and groups) with respect to a given initiative:
Is likely to be impacted by the outcome of the effort/decision
Functions as a connector in or across sector(s)/field(s)/communities
Is in a position to implement the effort/decision
Is in a position to prevent the effort/decision from being implemented
Has relevant information or “expertise” (including lived experience)
Has informal influence without authority
Has formal authority/responsible for the final decision
Is Indigenous to the place where we are doing “the work”
Applying a lens of “caring” or (or even of “loving”) to these criteria brings out another level or nuance, for me anyways. Beyond functionality and/or positionality, it invites me to ask: Who really connects to and cares about what we are trying to do? This can deepen and really anchor the analysis in powerful ways and also potentially expand possibilities for the initiative in question. Farmer, poet and essayist Wendell Berry has talked about the importance of what he calls “the turn towards affection.” Having spent many years reflecting on and pushing back against the unfortunate demonstrated human capacity to damage the land and demonize “the other,” he takes a strong stand for deep connection, or affection:
“For humans to have a responsible relationship to the world, they must imagine their places in it. … By imagination we see it illuminated by its own unique character and by our love for it.”
And, of course, there is longstanding Indigenous perspective and practice around “seeing” and sensing the land and all beings as kin, as “relations” that shape us and are shaped by us, with or without our conscious “knowing.” What if we asked ourselves and others what might be illuminated by people bringing their affection, love and/or sense of kinship to the initiative, work, place and/or goal in question? Who already has this? How might we inspire it in others?
“Cares deeply about the effort/decision” might become its own worthy category/criterion. And in looking at the criterion from the list above, “Is in a position to prevent the initiative/decision from being implemented” (the proverbial “blocker(s)”), bringing a lens of care might help us wonder what perceived “adversaries” actually care about/love/connect to. Might this kind of curiosity help to build bridges and understanding from the outset as opposed to immediately relegating certain people and groups to the category of “them”?
Speaking to the last criterion in the list above, recent conversations among a group of IISC staff and affiliates about these categories and criterion have raised important considerations of Indigenous peoples and perspectives. Increasingly we are seeing an interest in acknowledging and addressing harms done through colonialism, validating Indigenous ways of knowing, and working to establish “right relationships” and a “resurgence” (borrowing language here from Leanne Betasamosake Simpson) of saluto-genic (health/wholeness-promoting) systems. And perhaps by extension of these notions of “indigeneity” and caring, we might also consider who: “Speaks for the land” (see the work and writings of Jeannette Armstrong, of the Okanagan people) and also “Speaks for the more-than-human realm.”
I am also reminded of our IISC Collaborative Change Lens, which includes the facet of “love” as a force for social transformation and justice. Love here is a deeply rooted sensibility and practice, something that connects us in an ongoing way to “right mind and right action” in support of the “bigger We” of which we are all a part. As we say on our website, “We nurture the love that does justice: the desire for the wellbeing of others, which is central to every social change movement. Love infuses our power with compassion, reclaims our resilience, heals our wounds, causes us to see ourselves as connected, and enables our radical imagination.”
Finally, at least for now, as I look at the list of nine criteria above, I am tempted to add one more growing out of the unfolding spirit of these reflections. I would simply add a place/seat for “possibility,” in whatever form that might want to take. To and for me, the practice of leaning into more caring/loving leads naturally to this kind of space. More on that soon. And in the meantime …
What might care and care-holding bring to your consideration of who and how to engage others/”kin” in your social change work?
