Dec 2020
I have nothing profound to share today. I'm sitting in my dressing gown and fleecy leggings, trying to ignore the cramps (because I couldn't possibly end this tumultuous year without heavy bleeding and ***), scrolling through celebrations of wins, the grief of losses and the hopes of a new year ready to overshadow the last twelve months. My thoughts vacillate between the joyous relief that comes with January 1st in which we feel renewed and revitalised, and a sombre heaviness with all the hurt and loneliness and suffering and continuing oppression we carry through regardless of the date on the calendar.
It has been a year of learning and unlearning and community spirit and crushing disappointments and turbulence of a kind I don't think many have endured en masse and simultaneously alone and which threatens to stretching on indefinitely.
My greatest hope is my greatest fear - change, and not enough of it. Our systems are broken and our governments' failures continue to rip at the fabric of our society and, as always, our most vulnerable are taking the brunt.
I hope for mobilisation, for everyone to find the issue they commit to help build a sustainable solution - be that food poverty, climate change, reproductive justice, abolishing the police or community welfare. This year has proven our collective power and the overwhelming need for us to act - and revolution will be ours. It's beyond time to dream bigger, listen better and work smarter (not harder) towards a fair future, building for our most vulnerable and capturing everyone else more fortunate along the way.
Our individual power is unique; our ability to change minds and create solutions and unite our families, friends, colleagues - our communities - that's where we're most valuable. Not every action must be bold and break new ground. But coordinated networks build movements - we've seen this. We need to learn from those who came before us and recognise the depth and severity of the cracks in our systems.
None of this is profound, or new information, but it doesn't make it any less valid. I hope next year brings you what you need, but I also hope you'll look beyond 12 months and build for a future we can all enjoy. Because if this collective suffering continues at the hand of individualism's ideals; if we learn nothing from our months inside, isolated, in pain, what promise can the future hold?
It has been a year of learning and unlearning and community spirit and crushing disappointments and turbulence of a kind I don't think many have endured en masse and simultaneously alone and which threatens to stretching on indefinitely.
My greatest hope is my greatest fear - change, and not enough of it. Our systems are broken and our governments' failures continue to rip at the fabric of our society and, as always, our most vulnerable are taking the brunt.
I hope for mobilisation, for everyone to find the issue they commit to help build a sustainable solution - be that food poverty, climate change, reproductive justice, abolishing the police or community welfare. This year has proven our collective power and the overwhelming need for us to act - and revolution will be ours. It's beyond time to dream bigger, listen better and work smarter (not harder) towards a fair future, building for our most vulnerable and capturing everyone else more fortunate along the way.
Our individual power is unique; our ability to change minds and create solutions and unite our families, friends, colleagues - our communities - that's where we're most valuable. Not every action must be bold and break new ground. But coordinated networks build movements - we've seen this. We need to learn from those who came before us and recognise the depth and severity of the cracks in our systems.
None of this is profound, or new information, but it doesn't make it any less valid. I hope next year brings you what you need, but I also hope you'll look beyond 12 months and build for a future we can all enjoy. Because if this collective suffering continues at the hand of individualism's ideals; if we learn nothing from our months inside, isolated, in pain, what promise can the future hold?
