Movement. This is a word that gets bandied about regularly. It is also one that isn’t always so clear and carries many meanings. Meditation. This is a word that we use to remind ourselves to slow down, to think (or not) before acting, to invite ourselves to take a down beat in a world where our value is often measured in our ability to be constantly productive. These facts are something that we should take seriously as people committed to bringing about narrative and system change in the service of building more loving and just worlds. When paired together, paradoxically, we find that being still and being in motion can live in the same place and have an important relationship to each other’s existence.
That is why this edition is centered around the idea of movement meditations suggested to us by collective member Laura Bailey-Brandon. We have kept that notion intentionally vague and broad, because for many it already is. What does it mean to be a part of a movement? What are the challenges, opportunities, benefits and pitfalls with being in movement spaces. What does movement even mean? One of the things we have continually meditated on in our own collective practice at Riverwise is the understanding that far too often we make the assumption that the people we encounter in social justice or revolutionary spaces are on the same page as us, mean the same things as us when we use certain language and have the same aims as us as it relates to human liberation. This is a dangerous assumption to make. Especially because without doing reflection we may find ourselves spending more time fighting within movement spaces than working to make these spaces the kinds of places where we are enacting the values and practices we invoke when we declare that we want new worlds which center dignity, respect, collectivity and mutuality.
And, this is why it is so important to increase the time we spend thinking deeply with one another about what it means to be a part of a movement, what it means when we say we are building community, what it means when we say “we got us.”This practice, this commitment to not only doing the things, but also reflecting on the things we’re doing and doing so together, in community, as a part of a larger conversation, must be as important as feeding your neighbors, marching in the streets, holding elected officials accountable for their choices and fighting fascists. Any given strategy, tactic or message is only as good as its relevance to the moment, resonance with its intended audience and adaptability to ever shifting political, social and economic realities. And while there is definitely a case for “staying in your lane” that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be prepared to switch lanes when the path you’re on keeps landing you in places you didn’t want or intend to be.
Before I go on, let’s stop for a moment, close our eyes and hold a quiet moment for reflection. Now, let’s take a deep breath and as we exhale, set a collective intention that as long as we are able we will do our best to remind ourselves and those around us that we all deserve the chance to be still, to meditate. Let’s also remind ourselves that what makes movement so powerful isn’t just motion for motions sake, but its ability to take us farther than we ever imagined, to places we never thought we’d be able to reach. Let’s remind ourselves that what we’re after is just that…something new, something that will take a whole lot of big ideas and differing opinions and playful experimentation and commitment to the rejection of narratives and practices which disrespect life and our environment. And, that this ain’t easy to do but it is worth doing.
Throughout this edition, you will find stories of resilience and dedication to “the movement” even when it may have felt as if something needed to change to feel included. Stories like those of Julia Cuneo and Raina Rising, for example, who speak to how youth and motherhood, respectively, present special challenges for full acceptance as members of the movement. You’ll also find reflections like those of Mary Gagnon and Erin Posas on how ethnic and place based identity can complicate our relationships to feelings of belonging or the ability to create change. As always you’ll encounter profound poetry, art and visionary organizing that helps push us to think beyond the limited avenues we’ve been told exist for us to form community, care for our earth, care for one another.
One of the things that keeps me going, keeps me moving, keeps me dedicated to experimenting with the kinds of practices that center love is just how joyous it feels when I do find synchronicity with the people I’m moving with. That doesn’t mean we always have the same ideas or same strategies, but it does often mean that we have the same goal…a world where community determination flows from many selves highlighting our survival and knowing our strength lies within our collective power and compassion.
Though I never got to meet her, I think often of the movement leader and water protector Charity Hicks. Though her life was tragically cut short, her words and work and mentorship of many of Detroit’s current activists still carry a profound weight and help shape much of the movement thinking and acting that takes place around the city. “Wage Love,” she used to say. It is a phrase that reminds us that love is a practice, a muscle to be developed, a philosophy to be meditated upon, a policy to be enacted. As you move through this edition, I invite you to think about her words in relation to the work of the many brilliant comrades who answered the call for this edition. I invite you to take some time and think about a future beyond billionaires, beyond environmental destruction, beyond isolation, beyond othering. What does it mean to meditate on movement to you and how are you going to bring that vision to life?
