hi friends,
phew - we made it here.
i can’t believe 2020 is over; we have endured the manifestation of disaster capitalism, a failed state, perfected empire occupation, and the re-organization of our communities amidst fighting for survival. and loneliness and waves of worry. and endless speculation on how much worse it can and will get. and resisted the temptation of giving up. in Alexis Pauline Gumbs’ Letting Go, she reminds us that “there is no reason to believe you would be supernaturally strong. except you survived. and told the tale”.
i’m currently in puerto rico and have been for five weeks, in this time being on the land - i have had to reconsider the expectations around resilience and adaptability, a familiar mastery for Black folks, for brown folks, for poor folks all across the world. puerto rico, where my ancestral and familial lineage sprouts from, is the world’s oldest colony. in september of 2017, the island was devastated by a few disasters: two hurricanes (Irma and Maria), an unpayable $100+ billion debt puppeteered by wall street bond holders, and the wrath of colonialism rubbing against the self-determination of poor caribbean people. poor caribbean people who are too dumb to decide what they’d like to make of their resources and somehow always mismanage their economy, poor caribbean people who are too brown or Black to know what’s good for them, poor caribbean people who actually.. have been dealt the cards of existing under the boot of american exceptionalism, even though the words f e l l o w a m e r i c a n c i t i z e n s get thrown at them every possible chance.
i’m curious how we may discern what adaptability means in a system that strips us of our humanity and dignity more each time. i just finished reading Aftershocks of Disaster: Puerto Rico Before and After the Storm and in it, Yarimar Bonilla, in conversation with Naomi Klein shares how crypto entrepreneurs said to her that “after hurricane maria, this was the worst thing that puerto ricans could possibly experience, and so if this is what the worst looks like, then we [crypto entrepreneurs] are OK”. this was a general response from corporate heads, reflecting on how resilient the puerto rican people are in a time of total collapse. resilient while mourning thousands of unaccounted-for deaths - the bodies of their mothers, daughters, uncles, cousins, grandmothers, neighbors, friends, lovers who were not even worthy of state documentation or proper burials. eleven months with no power, a closure of over 300 schools, hour-long lines for clean water and bags of ice to store the little food one may have, destroyed homes and homes standing naked with no roof. these systems are constantly testing the bounds of our resilience, of our survival, and now — somehow, in typical capitalist fashion -- practices of care are highly individualized, monetized, and sold to us as market-driven solutions. our care for land, our people, and our struggles for dignity cannot coexist with their dreams of totality and domination.
how can we be diligent about assessing what capacity and resilience look like for the service of freedom dreams?
in what ways can we practice our ideas of intentional care, community-building outside of a capitalist market?
what struggle in the Global South can you commit to learning more about this week?
i am not a pessimistic person and my belly is filled with dreams, but history says: our conditions are bound to become more aggressively unequal and our need for one another is more urgent every minute, not in a romantic way, but in a choice of affirming life and dignity, or not. the call for discipline, rigor, and organized strategy reverberates off a megaphone from our sisters in Bolivia, Palestine, Venezuela, Argentina, Iran, India, Cuba, all over occupied Turtle Island, and more - we have so much to learn from the Global South specifically, from the corners of the world the empire categorizes as grime.
i invite us all to double down on our commitment to supporting everyday people in their organizing efforts, support independent media, and propagandists offering us a sliver into the new world. i invite us to shed our internalized imperialist tendencies of “me, me, me” and read about what struggles across the globe look like during COVID. i invite us to stop glamorizing and celebritizing organizers or activists, recognizing that struggle is slow, difficult, sacrificial, and beautiful. to be of the people, is to be alive.
this year, i am slowing down and prioritizing depth over breadth. being ten toes down to organize the unorganized. breaking out of my own tendencies so that i can be a better leader. not victimizing myself out of accountability or hard truths. moving out of the desire for spotlight in order to prioritize the unseen grunt work.
a week ago, i talked to adrienne maree brown and we talked about what principled struggle means, how to identify our political homes in an era of online politickin, and what accountability and abolitionist values can look like - you can listen to the conversation here.
for now - i leave y’all with these reflections, and am happy to hear where y’all are at and how each of you is orienting yourselves to the new year. let’s learn from each other.
with deep gratitude,
niki