On Becoming an Activist
When I was a teen, I didn’t think I could be an activist.
For one, I didn’t know what that would entail at the time. Two, I thought that I didn’t have enough confidence to stand up for others.
I had this crippling fear of people not liking me, or cutting me off completely. I felt as though because some of those close to me didn’t approve, then I was on the wrong side.
I’m 24 now, and activism isn’t comfortable. It’s not supposed to be. It’s abundantly clear that the myth of “sides” is just that, a myth. Activism and human rights issues are a lot more nuanced than I anticipated.
I believe that I started being an activist first with the election of 2016. It was my very first presidential election, and I thought that by reaching out we could make a real difference. Of course, I sent money to and supported the Bernie campaign.
Through and through when everyone said he was a “socialist” I challenged their narrow views and figured out for myself his track record and how his proposed policies would play out.
My family and friends decided not to challenge their views. No matter how many times I tried to convince them of the good his presidency would do, they didn’t care. Wrote me off as a kid who didn’t understand the real world. But Bernie was older than all of them and clearly…
