On Fear:

How we're making change slower and more incremental than it needs to be

I started off writing this piece with a bold statement: The only thing making the change slow and incremental is you believing that that is the way change has to be.

If you read that and felt attacked, just keep reading. This is not an attack; it’s an invitation. And through writing this piece, I realised that I don’t entirely agree with that initial statement. Here’s what I do think is true though: reaffirming that change is slow and incremental when faced with something radical - is often an unaddressed investment in the status quo.

Unravelling a deeply intricate system of oppression is going to be slow - of course it is. Creating something new is also going to be slow, it takes a lot of imagination and collaboration and collective skillbuilding and testing and practice. However, it requires a level of divestment from the thing we agree isn’t working. And so, I am hoping to prompt some self reflection - especially if reading these first paragraphs felt particularly prickly. Ask yourself; am I upending the structure or strengthening it?

So why do we say that change is slow? Why do we shut down policy and practices and ways of being that invite us to divest from systems of oppression? Maybe, it's complicity. Maybe it’s a vested interest in upholding the system you thought you wanted to eradicate. I think that there is an element of fear that we don’t want to name. Because then, we would have to admit how afraid we are all the time. How living within these systems where we are constantly faced with a barrage of evidence that we are not safe and that there are policy choices being made to keep us that way - is terrifying. And I think that we’re collectively being faced with a crisis of dishonesty.

What would happen if everyone that said they wanted to radically change their environment but can’t, (because of the people in charge or the competing internal interests or the budget) actually stood firm in that desire at every step of the way? What would it look to be uncompromising and unrelenting in our vision for a better future? Not in the group chat, with your friends. Not on our personal instagram stories. Not in our book clubs and organising spaces. But in the spaces where you have the most likelihood of affecting change, and the most to lose.

You’d probably be labelled difficult. You may find less opportunities coming your way. Security goes out the door. As does ease. You may find that your abilities and expertise are being questioned - a lot. You could lose everything you worked for. And that’s scary. Especially, for those of us who have found strength and pride in being able to navigate or claw through a system that wasn’t built for us. We need to name that fear, and own it.

You know that moment, on a Monday morning call and someone asks about your weekend? And you make the choice not to mention that you spent yesterday attending an action. Or that you spent Saturday immobilised in bed, trying to figure out how to make it to your next paycheck. Or that you spent the last week ensuring that the people you love could pay their rent. Or that Friday was a day spent holding each other as you furiously cried about the overwhelming injustice in the world. And so, when you open your mouth to speak you say, “I mostly rested” or “I spent some time with friends.” And you feel relieved, and a little gross, but it’s also sort of funny that you can live such separate lives from your colleagues. And this is an ultimately inconsequential example. No policy is being written. No services are being scaled back. It’s just us, making the decision to be palatable in a space that would be shaken and uncomfortable if we expressed the truth.

I think (though I can’t be sure) that we do this across industries. Everyday, we walk into the office, (or turn on the zoom camera) and code switch or mask or just practice that emotional dissonance where we become employees instead of people. And we are rewarded for being more professional than human. We are applauded for turning off our identity and humanity in the name of objectivity. I have spent the last three years working with people in many different fields. Hoping to impress the necessity of integrating equity into every industry and every role - no matter how irrelevant it seems for their work. And I have found that “objectivity” is often just adhering to existing dominant narratives.

I often find myself working with people who want me to know that they believe in the changes that I’m proposing. And they also want me to know that we have to frame and package change in a way that isn’t threatening. They want me to know that every internal victory (including our company being hired) has been a result of making compromises, and cajoling, and making a business case for equity. And that’s just the way it is. That’s just the way it is, is a lot easier to say than - I will be punished or penalised for trying to change the way it is. It’s a lot easier than saying I am constantly holding my breath waiting for my identity or my lived experiences to become acceptable enough to be discussed in the place I spend 40 hours a week. Or, I am not sure if I want that discussion to happen in the place I have to be to pay my rent because there will be people who will fight for it to be unacceptable. And it’s certainly easier than saying - I feel stuck and scared and have no idea how to stop feeling stuck and scared.

So, we shrink our words and the impact of our work in hopes that it will pass, or be approved, or make it to the next stage. We compromise before we’re asked to, because we know later we will be told to. And inadvertently we have taken on the task of limiting the impact of our work, before the system even has a chance. I know that we do this in hopes of being strategic. If we show that we’re being reasonable and compromising and taking the constraints into consideration - then surely that work will be rewarded. But really think, is it rewarded, ever? And if the answer is no (or a wobbly sometimes), then is it really strategic? We need a new strategy if we are being serious about the work that’s ahead of us.

I think we need to be bold, I think we need to be innovative. We need to shape systems to fit our ideas instead of the other way around. We are working within the constraints of a system that we say we want to change - but seem surprised that we are only ever “moving the needle.” We are scared to be identified as what we are: someone unhappy with the status quo. And in doing so, we often become the ones blocking change. We have to get out of our own way.

Name your fear. Recognize its coercive power.
And then, in the pursuit of positive change: Be innovative. Be uncompromising. Be brave.