Browse Category: Special Series

I Have a Dream: Imagine Martin Luther King, Jr. As Weak

“Everybody can be great…because anybody can serve. You don’t have to have a college degree to serve. You don’t have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. You only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love.” ― Martin Luther King Jr.

Today is Martin Luther King Jr’s birthday.

Of all the civil rights leaders I’ve been fortunate to learn about, he is one of my favorites; his message about the power of Love and Forgiveness has always deeply touched me. To have been as courageous as he was to preach forgiveness and nonviolence against white people, especially in that period when racism was a brutal, physical, reality,  and still persist in his benevolence… I can’t even imagine it. And, sometimes, admittedly, I don’t.

I have a dream: Imagine Martin Luther King, Jr. as human.

Imagine Martin Luther King as Human

Rather than the prophetic force he’s been eulogized to be, imagine Martin Luther King Jr. as just another man walking down the street, or sitting at a bus stop looking down at his knees, pensive… wondering whether or not he was doing the right thing.

Imagine him in his broken moments — frustrated, angry, irritable, and unleaderly, and pray he had someone to love him when he was weak. Imagine him in solitude, right before he met with his council, willing himself to breathe… willing himself to be what he needed to be to inspire *others* to keep going. Then pray that he had someone to lean on.

When we think of our heroes, our idols, we often think about how much they touched *us*, how much they gave *us*. We rarely think about what they reaped in return–what it was like, for instance, to step off the podium after delivering one of the most riveting speeches ever given: I Have a Dream.

What nightmare did this dream, so powerful, so vast, and so specific, come from? When Dr. King was tired from the constant wrongs against his people, who helped raise him up again? Who heard his confessions, then? What would he have given to be seen, plainly, as Martin?

I believe that the beacon of light heroes often become in our eyes is strenuous, draining, and often enough, misleading–a double-edged sword. I believe our thirst for inspiration robs *heroes* of the right to be as imperfect as they are– as we all are, and consequently, the right to believe that we, too, are powerful. For instance, do we truly marvel at how great Martin Luther King Jr. was, or do we, as children right before bedtime, let our thoughts entertain the fantastical nature of heroes as permission to go back to sleep?

By making a *choice* to constantly describe the brave acts of everyday people as “divine”, aren’t we simply absolving ourselves of the responsibility to do what is right, in real time? In our eagerness to edify, we rob ourselves of the right to dream as heroes dreamed, to lead as prophets led… for how can any of us live up to such a hero as Martin Luther King? How can any of us be as glorious, shine a light as luminous as he did?

This is why we must imagine heroes as human, and we must imagine them, too, as weak. We must see ourselves in their light; walk the paths they walked, and imagine the human sacrifices they must have made, to discover that we, in our mundane capacities, make similar sacrifices every day.

So today, I honor the memory of a man I never knew, whose words–perhaps written from dark, lonely places I struggle with too–inspire me to choose Love as my Revolution. I celebrate the memory of Martin Luther King Jr., by imagining him as a man who wasn’t so tall, that I may follow in his footsteps, walk that Divine path of Love, which, I believe, is human after all.

Open Letter to Africans for Africa Supporters: Love Is My Revolution

Dear Love Warriors,

I’ve been back in the states for almost two weeks, struggling with what words to send you in closing of my Africans for Africa new media training project. I’ve started about a dozen posts and letters, and have scrapped them each time. I’ve been crouched under the weight of so many emotions from this trip: gratitude, humility, pride, reflection, exhaustion, relief.

So where do I begin?

No words can amply describe what my #africansforafrica project has meant to me; no report could show you just how much *your* support of my –one single person’s — work has impacted so many others. But here’s an attempt to give you at least a glimpse:

A group of South African lesbians, who were virtually invisible online are *thriving* after my visioning, organizational development, and content strategy session with them. As a direct result of one of our discussions, they even changed their name to better reflect their philosophy and target audience. I’m in awe of their hard work and dedication to create a space for African Lesbians. Check out HOLAA (Hub of Lesbian Loving Action Africa) at

Sister Namibia (one of three Namibian feminist organizations I worked with), whose challenge was nurturing a wider audience for their magazine is now in the process of going digital and sharing some of their print articles online in order to engage an international audience. Check out Sister Namibia on Facebook:

A gender justice activist and educator in Jamaica, who’s been following my #africansforafrica updates, reached out to me to help plan a media and gender conference for women of African descent, a project that will no doubt reach hundreds more women’s rights individuals and organizations, but also create a visible pan-africanist network of social media experts.

In addition to a number of small towns and villages, I visited 7 major African cities — Cape Town, Port Elizabeth, Durban, Johannesburg, Windhoek, Gaborone, and Accra; I trained over 60 different organizations working on a wide range of issues, including women’s rights, LGBT advocacy, youth empowerment, media and the arts for civic engagement; and, I trained ~400 activists, artists, and non-profit professionals in new media communications, including branding, blogging, and online fundraising.

On top of all this, I’ve spoken at schools, colleges, youth programs, and community events about the empowerment of marginalized communities via new media, afrofeminism — my spiritual approach to social justice,  the ethics of philanthropy, and, of course, the power of storytelling, re-writing history in our own voices.

Despite all of this, I’ve been waking up every day since my return, wondering how the hell this happened, and then recalling, almost instantly, that I didn’t do this; we did. In fact, you did. You helped me prove to the world that anything is possible with Love on your side, with Community on your side. And, I am humbled to have discovered, this year, that I’d earned both.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you all so much, for giving me one of the best years of my life, for trusting me with our collective mission to empower communities through media, for your continued support and solidarity of my work, and of course, for your Love.

Happy New Year.


ps — some of you should have already received postcards, T-shirts arriving in January! :)

Africans for Africa -- Spectra Speaks

7 Social Media Ideas That Will Strengthen Digital Activism in Africa

Will the Real African Social Media Experts Please Stand Up?

I recently had the pleasure of participating in the West African Civil Society Institute (WACSI)‘s Social Media Experts conference in Accra, Ghana.

The conference brought together African social media experts, enthusiasts, and activists from across the continent, Europe, and North America, including:

  • fellow #afrifem tweeps, @Zawadin (of ZerobyZawadi in Kenya) and @negrita (of Illume Creative Studios in Rwanda)
  • #occupynigeria leaders, @Yemi_O (of Enough is Enough Nigeria) and @omojuwa (of
  • BloggingGhana’s social media celebs, @MacJordan and @Kajsaha, and their civic engagement project @GhanaDecides.

Among people I hadn’t yet met were three brilliant, inspiring young men from Senegal and Cote d’Ivoire, including Emile Bela (@ebelak), who began his presentation with a memory of being stuck in a room with a few others in the middle of a war; his interest in blogging came from the sudden realization that if he died that day, there’d be no record of his life, nor accounts of what he’d seen. Today, Emile is a prolific writer at his own blog, and contributes commentary on sustainable development, electoral politics, and governance to other sites. It was truly an honor to be among such trailblazing, inspiring company.

My biggest takeaway from the conference was that there is still much to be explored and uncovered on the continent when it comes to how African NGOs are using new media for advocacy. But judging from WACSI’s dedication to equipping African changemakers with information and resources they need to succeed, any projects seeking to leverage new media for advocacy will not be lacking in support.

Even as young Africans are dispersed across the globe, in our mission to create alternative pathways to change — one that side-steps our corrupt governments, subverts barriers to capital, and taps into the crowdfunding potential of 475 milliion mobile connections on the continent, we’re already charting and covering new territory.

7 Ideas That Will Strengthen Digital Activism in Africa

Researching Africa’s Social Media Landscape

More research is needed on how African NGOs specifically (including organizations based on the continent, managed by its residents i.e. not managed by some gap year volunteer from Holland) are using social media. As I sat and listened to a presentation on tips for increasing engagement on Facebook pages, which was based on Facebook data from companies all across the globe, I questioned its relevance to Africa; the insights that drove the suggestions were based on data heavily driven by internet- (vs mobile- ) connections, yet the vast majority of Africans are connected to the web via mobile. What would social media insights (i.e. the best time to post, how long each update should be etc) based on African-based, mobile-sourced data look like? Also, how does culture influence the way we build relationships online? Until Africa 2.0 defines its own benchmarks, our strategizing and planning, whether for advocacy or other purposes will be based on models that don’t necessarily reflect Africa’s tech landscape. Luckily, organizations like WACSI and Indigo Trust are committed to supporting such initiatives.

Bridging Africa’s Digital Divide through Cost-and-Time Effective Tech Training


For a continent booming with mobile innovation, much of it still experiences limited to no cell phone signal or data services of any kind. Moreover, the speed and costs of internet services varies widely between regions, creating further barriers for non-profits / activists wishing to use social media for advocacy. Hence, I particularly appreciated, participant @sourceadam’s presentation regarding his work at @sourcefabric, which implements open source, cost-effective tech solutions for NGOs, making it easier for them to optimize their time on the web. In my own work with Africans for Africa, I’ve found, also, that comprehensive social media training for people living in remote areas must include time management training; it’s not enough to tell small organizations with low capacity (and limited connectivity) that they constantly need to tweet and update Facebook without showing them a feasible way they can brainstorm and share content, in a time-efficient, cost effective way.

Fighting Government Censorship and Privatized Data Control

Source: Mahesh Kumar A/Associated Press

I recently participated as a speaker on a webinar hosted by the African Feminist Forum and Association for Progressive Communications on online security and censorship in digital activism. This year, at least seven online users were arrested for their internet activity, and it doesn’t seem like government monitoring of social media is going away anytime soon. In fact, it’s becoming more aggressive. For instance, a Nigerian senator recently proposed censoring social media in order to curb criticism of the country’s governance; in Ghana, there’s been a recent proposal to place a “cap” on data and internet usage; and, in Ethiopa, a Skype call will get you 15 years in prison. There are many other blaring examples of the dangers of taking our lack of ownership and control of the internet too lightly, yet many activists who use social media for advocacy aren’t informed enough about the internet infrastructure — the wiring, the cables, the data — nor the government policies that monitor (and can end) its use. If Africans are serious about new media as a tool to create , we’re going to need to address government censorship, freedom of speech on the web, and the systemic denial of ownership that is too often ignored in our discourse about digital activism.

Using Pop Culture to Engage “Social” Users, Politically

Source: @fondalo

A recent study shows most Africans use social media for games, fun, and entertainment. Yet, we often hear complaints of how difficult it is to get youth to engage, coupled with emphases on how there’s a strong need for civic engagement around “serious” issues. Clearly, in order to increase engagement among the majority of Africans who prefer to use social media for fun and entertainment, we’re going to have to find a way to make the political issues we care about fun and engaging. We can take a cute from Enough is Enough (EIE), a civil society organization based in Nigeria that featured Nigerian celebrities and humor-driven campaigns to engage youth around their #occupynigeria campaign. As EIE’s mission is to encourage youth to become more responsible citizens, they’ve made pop culture a core element of their media strategies to ensure that the tenor of their messaging resonates with their target base, which doesn’t sound like such a terrible idea to me. If anything, activists could use with a little bit more communication 101 practice. How often must we resort to blaming the audience for not listening or “doing anything” as a way of disguising our own failure to captivate and inspire?

Nurturing (More) African Social Media Experts

Beyond the same ol’ recyclable twitter lists (e.g. twitterati assumed to be “African social media experts” simply based on large numbers of followers), Africans need to identify and nurture a network of legit social media experts and strategists,  one which activists, non-profits, and/or campaigns could call upon for advice, expertise, and most importantly, training. Ghana Decides’s model of offering social media trainings to their civic engagement partners (including NGOs that work with marginalized communities such as women, youth etc) is a movement-building model worth replicating; investing in the social media capacity of their partners essentially duplicates their outreach efforts, and  of maximizes their chances of engaging a wide, diverse audience overall. When considering the potential political power (both online and offline) of African communities were social impact organizations to be trained to more efficiently engage their social networks, there is no limit to what we can achieve together, as individuals, as countries, and as a continent. We’ll need more trainers to train more trainers to train more trainers. Thus, nurturing an elite class of social media experts is critical.

Mobile Crowdfunding Is the Future

With the rise of online fundraising platforms for creatives and entrepreneurs (such as Kickstarter and Indiegogo), the philanthropy sector has developed a few niche platforms of its own; sites like and allow charities to raise small amounts of money from large numbers of people in their social networks. Africa’s adoption of online fundraising phenomenon is not necessarily news, but is timely given the impact the wall street financial crisis had on the global funding climate. However, with mobile banking innovations such as MPesa (mobile banking) and M-Shwari (mobile loans) sprouting up all across the continent, improving workflow and usability, Africa is well-positioned to lead the way when it comes to crowdfunding through mobile and SMS. Given the funding (and political) climate of African countries, the need for more self-driven, autonomous, alternate pools of funding options is unprecedented. In countries like Nigeria and Uganda, where human rights are being violated due to homophobia and bigotry, and organizations are barely permitted to operate, let alone receive funding, it is critical that crowdfunding be explored as an option, and not just from western countries; were mobile giving made readily available, perhaps the world would be able to see that Africans can and already do support each other in times of need. In fact, crowdfunding may just be the ingredient Africa needs to  curb the negative impact of white saviorism and foreign aid in the development landscape.

Creating an African Blogging Network

It’s not every day that marginalized groups experience the thrill of connection, especially as intensely as they happen at conferences where there’s shared interest (and in this case, identity). At the WACSI conference, many of the participants commented on the importance of staying connected. Being able to support each other across issues and across borders, and count on the signal-boosting power of a global network of Africans online could make a huge difference to local organizing efforts. There are certainly smaller efforts being made in this area: The Guardian African Network, African feminists (#afrifem) on Twitter, region-specific efforts such as Blogging Ghana and the Nigerian Blog Awards, and issue-based sites such as Identity Kenya and Dynamic Africa. But there remains to be seen a large, robust network that connects the vast number of African bloggers online. Many questions remain: Given the diversity on the continent, and how dispersed Africans are around the globe, is such a network even possible? Who would lead (and house) such an undertaking? Would an informal network (such as a dedicated twitter hashtag for African bloggers) work just as well? There’s no doubting the collective power that could be harnessed from a formal network of African activists. However, till such a space exists, African bloggers are going to need to create one virtually; linking to each other where possible, learning how to position ourselves so that we are (more) visible to each other, and intentionally supporting each other’s initiatives in our various capacities, are all important principles of activism we should be practicing, online or offline.

3 LGBT-Friendly African Feminist Organizations Who Aren’t Afraid of Using the F-Word

“We Work on “Gender and Sexuality” Issues (But We’re Not a Feminist Organization)”


I recently spent some time in Windhoek, Namibia as part of Africans for Africa, my 6-month long volunteer project training women’s and LGBTI organizations all across Southern Africa in new media communications. To make the most of my two-week stay, I decided to look up local women-run organizations in order to introduce myself and in hopes of learning more about Namibia’s non-profit/social justice landscape.

After an hour or so of web researching gender and sexuality issues in Namibia, I had compiled an inspiring list of organizations that primarily served women in a variety of ways, including combating homophobia, educating girls, advocating for survivors of domestic violence, children with disabilities, and so much more.

As I read the founders’ stories, many of them survivors of some form of trauma, called to political action by some personal circumstance, I “mmmn”-ed out loud, soaked in what felt like a familiar brand of afrofeminism, the kind I’d become accustomed to being raised by a child of war, the kind that held its breath through resistance, generation after generation, with the dim hope that the work and sacrifice would afford their daughters the privilege of being able to breathe more freely.

Phrases like “fight against oppression”, “promote gender equality”, “resist patriarchy”, and “empower women” could be found in almost all the mission statements, yet, despite the parallel goals and shared context, the words “feminist” or “feminism” were nowhere to be found.  So far, in my travels, the word feminism has proven to be as taboo (and as divisive) as it gets. Ironically, nothing creates quite awkward a silence as someone perceived to be “pushing a feminist agenda” (or, my favorite, “man-hating”) in an African women’s circle.

I’ve certainly met my share of African feminist individuals — they’re the crazy ones that would drop the F-bomb (“Feminism”) in the middle of a discussion (and embrace the consequences, while describing the chaos as a series of “learning moments”. (Note: I say this, fondly.)

On the flip side, many of the organizations I’ve met working on combating gender stereotypes or gender-based violence are adamantly against using the word, “Feminism”, in their work, even if some of the leadership identify as feminists). Some of the resistance stems from the good sense to avoid alienating many of the women they serve, a scenario I myself can relate to; I received way more responses (and invitations) when I described my tech training as equipping African women (vs. African feminist organizations), so I made the switch. My mission, after all, is to make sure more women are skilled at using media for advocacy. Thus, for my purposes, I really don’t care whether or not these women identify as feminists or not.

However, besides tactical reasons similar to the scenario above, some of the pushback against using the F-word also stems from negative perceptions feminism. Unfortunately, I’ve met one too many feminists who exclusively blame “ignorance” or “patriarchy” for the bad PR. While I agree that some of this is certainly at play, I quite frankly find it ineffective (and self-righteous) to continually blame an audience for bad messaging. Feminism isn’t always the problem; sometimes, feminists who use feminism to alienate (vs. engage) are the greatest barrier to engaging women in what’s arguably one of the most powerful movements of our time.

Queer Nigerian Boi Seeks African Feminist Organizations; Must Be Open-Minded (i.e. Love the Gays)

I personally have felt excluded from so called “inclusive feminist spaces” based on my disdain for academic jargon, my love of hip hop music, the task of constantly having to fight against assumed heterosexuality, and the frustration of hearing even allies conflate my gender presentation as a tom boi and my sexuality as the same issue. Like religion, at its core feminism is good; but when preached as a doctrine in the way it’s quite often done (especially at conference spaces), when policed in the way that it frequently is by so-called “real” feminists, it can feel more like dogma, a set of rules and judgments, rather than loose set of principles, heavily strengthened by an appreciation of the “gray”, which can guide all of us to better caring for ourselves and for our communities.

Given the tensions that exist within and around (African) feminism, I was pleasantly surprised to discover (and get to know) three amazing organizations that have found a way to strike a balance between engaging all kinds of women from where they are and empowering women who already identify as feminists to “spread the good word”; who welcomed me whole, and didn’t reduce me to being the “gay one” in the group. It was so encouraging to meet so many open-minded African women, some LGBTI, some not, who united around a shared commitment to (all) women’s empowerment.

I’ve listed them here in no particular order. And, luckily for you, because I spent quite a bit of time training a number of their members in new media for branding and visibility, so they’re pretty active on Facebook. Like them :)

Young Feminist Movement in Namibia (Y-Fem)

Y-Fem’s mission is to nurture the next generation of feminist leadership. Pow! These inspiring young women I was privileged to spend two weeks with in Namibia describe themselves as “an organization that creates space for passionate, stylish, and fashionable young Namibian women and allies.” Ooh la la — sign me up! This is exactly what we need — an organization that isn’t afraid to make feminism cool, fashionable. During my sessions with them, it came up, over and over again, that they were committed to making sure Y-Fem appealed to the ‘every day’ girl, not just women’s and gender studies major. Incidentally, I got to help them prepare for their first major event, which was an informal social gathering intended to create an awareness of feminist and women’s issues through the use of poetry by both established and aspiring poets. They pulled that event off like pros; I arrived mid-way through it to find 40+ people gathered around a blazing fire as a woman chanted and sang about her love for African women. Namibia’s women’s movement is in good hands if Y-Fem has anything to say about it. Like them on Facebook

Women’s Leadership Center

WLC is a feminist organization that promotes women’s writing and other forms of personal and creative expression as a form of resistance to oppression embedded in patriarchal cultures and society, and aims to develop indigenous feminist activism in Namibia. (Wow!) They’ve published several anthologies of stories, poetry, and photography produced for and by women living in rural areas, and routinely host writing workshops in order to develop interest in writing both as a tool for archiving African women’s stories and advocating for equal rights and access. Before I left, the director of the program, Liz Frank, a feminist scholar herself, gave me about five books to read, including “Between Yesterday and Tomorrow” and “We Must Choose Life”, both writings of Namibian women on gender, culture, violence, and HIV/AIDS. As someone whose work is all about women telling their stories, discovering WLC was such a treat. Visit their website.

Sister Namibia

And, last but not least, Sister Namibia is a feminist, women’s rights organisation based in Namibia that uses media to raise awareness on women’s rights issues in the country and region. An African feminist media organization? It sounded too good to be true when I stumbled across their website. I hadn’t imagined that I’d receive a response as quickly as I did (yay African hospitality), that the director would invite me to come spend an afternoon with them in their office, nor that this “office” would be an actual building the organization owned. When I stepped into their small bungalow, I was blown away by the display table in the entryway that held past issues of Sister Namibia’s print magazine, “Sister”, and the wall-to-wall covering of bookshelves filled with books about African women, feminism, gender, sexuality–the whole shebang. This organization doesn’t need to “create space” for women (or feminists); they already have one. Their physical space, which I’ve come to fondly call my favorite African feminist temple, serves as both a library and a meeting space for local students, activists, and community members. They rock. Love them on Facebook.

What other self-identified African feminist organizations exist on the continent? I’m sure they’re lots. Please feel free to recommend them. Have you come across organizations that don’t explicitly identify as feminist but practice feminist principles? Should African women’s organizations necessarily adopt the feminist label? Why/why not? 

Response to “An End to Self Care”: How About “An End to the Activist Martyr Complex?”

An articled called, An End to Self Carewas recently published on Organizing Upgrade, in which an activist proposed bringing an end to the individualism behind “self-care” and, instead, called for community care.

The author, B. Loewe, made his point about not privileging the self over the group (part of which I agree with to some degree), he even cited women of color such as Audre Lorde (who said, “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.”).

Yet, despite several points that resonated, a few of which a friend of his outlined here, B. Loewe’s response, along with the many thumbs up he got for writing that piece, also reminded me why I’ve made it a point to stay away from activist spaces; why the spaces in which I once found affinity ended up becoming one of the biggest threats to my mental health.

After a day of being repeatedly triggered and pissed off by the callous debate surrounding B. Loewe’s article, I needed to get this off my chest. So, here’s my emotionally drained, sleepy, and over it response. Forgive the free-form. I originally posted this as a semi-rant on Tumblr.

The Martyr Complex Driving Self Care Critics (and Response to The Article, “An End to Self Care“) 

I have a hunch that tells me: the degree of individualism put into one’s self care practice may correspond to the degree with which they are responsible for others (and how many).

I’m an activist and community organizer, a small scale public figure if we must. My work, life, nearly everything is about giving to others, uplifting others, nourishing others. Because of this, I’ve been forced to build self care into my daily routine, my natural rhythm (which is actually a good thing — everyone should), otherwise I’ll run out of battery.

Self care, for me, isn’t a trip to the beach, or an expensive yoga retreat; it’s getting 7 vs. 5 hours of sleep on a good day; it’s eating at least 2 meals a day, when I can afford the time (and expense); it’s time spent with an inner circle of close friends and confidants who don’t know me as “Spectra who writes”, but the introverted lightweight. Self care, for me, isn’t a luxury by any means; it is a basic need, a necessary part of my being.

Yet, despite these realities, the question people have been asking for the past few days is this: Is Self Care Individualist Or Revolutionary?

On the rare occasion that I need a day off, and can actually afford to take one (note: I work for myself, I don’t get a steady paycheck that makes me forget that I have the privilege of prioritizing my job –er, I mean–community care– over my mental health), I should be able to take a day off. But I often cannot.

An hour nap turns into an hour obsessing over what things I “really” need to do for others, because activist spaces have made it okay to model their “transformational spaces” after a non-sustainable, unhealthy system of “accountability” that not only guilt trips people into feeling bad about having to tend to their recovery, or their lower capacity due to disability, but literally whips them back to work under the falsehood of promised rejuvenation “if done right.” No. This is not okay.

I feel no different when I read posts like these than I did when I was working as a consultant in corporate america and the boss would send me emails on my “sick days” asking if I’d gotten a chance to review those documents, because, you know, above all, we gotta make sure we think of the company…. Last I checked, activists in the non-profit industry were accusing corporations of being greed, exploitative, blood-sucking a**holes who didn’t care about “people”, just “money.” I’m ashamed to say that after years of working with people in the non-profit industry, there’s not that much difference; just replace money with “self-righteous political agendas.”

To be completely honest, when I think about the times when I’ve been at my lowest and most strained, it’s been due to other activist guilt-tripping me into over-extending myself for some agenda I don’t even remember signing up for.

I’m lucky that I’ve been able to find others like myself, who believe just as much in caring for their communities as they do taking care of themselves, not necessarily as interdependent ideologies, but because — dare I say it — it’s possible to want to improve the world and have other interests that are not necessarily connected, including your own dreams, ambitions, peace of mind. God forbid the word “self” ever finds its way into the mouth of an activist. God forbid we actually practice the “self-love” slogans we slap on so many protest signs.

I could go on and on about this, but, for me, the bottom line is this: People should be able to take a day off without having to justify to themselves or anyone else for that matter, why they’re doing it.

Yes, there are self-absorbed, privileged people in the world that have commercialized real survival tactics (eg. self-care practices like mine just so I can be at level ZERO) and throw the term around just to get out of responsibilities, or because it’s so indie and “cool” to “take a day.” But selfcare for me, and so many others, comes from a real legitimate need. And I won’t submit to the idea that I should only ever advocate for self-care using the “acceptable martyr” complex prevalent in so many self-righteous activist spaces  i.e. “it’s not just for me, but for the community.” Bullshit.

I’ve lived with depression my entire life; I know for a fact that my default “level” is not as high as someone who doesn’t have to worry about their hormonal imbalances; I need to be militant about taking care of myself or I simply will not be able to function as a human being, period; not just as an activist. So anyone calling for an end to self-care, especially if it’s accompanied with an “unless it’s for the community” clause, clearly doesn’t give a rip about me, or anyone else that doesn’t fit into their superhero archetype.

But martyrdom, and disabilities aside; I’m an activist that has paid her dues. I’ve sweat and toiled over the communities I love for years, for nothing in return, simply because, I have love for my people. But I have love for me, too. So the idea that I don’t get to give myself a day when I need to, for none other than, I want to, quite honestly pisses me off.

If I need a day to regroup so that I don’t burn out, collapse, or get to a point where I’m no longer functional as a partner to my spouse, to my siblings, my parents, to my dog, or as the arbiter of my own dreams and aspirations,  then I need a day, period. I make no bloody apologies for wanting to survive through my militant compassion for the world.

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