The Antidote to Despair Is Finding our Role in Community Building

Hyperlocal organizing, mutual aid and community care can help transform political despair into collective action.

This essay is part of an ongoing Gender & Democracy series, presented in partnership with Groundswell Fund and Groundswell Action Fund, highlighting the work of Groundswell partners advancing inclusive democracy. You’ll find stories, reflections and accomplishments—told in their own words—by grassroots leaders, women of color, Indigenous women, and trans and gender-expansive people supported by Groundswell. By amplifying these voices—their solutions, communities, challenges and victories—our shared goal is to show how intersectional organizing strengthens democracy.


woman with dreads and her hands above her head as she helps leads the crowd of thousands
Livia Rose Johnson of the Warriors In the Garden, a New York City-based social justice nonprofit and activist collective, joins a march from Cadman Plaza in Brooklyn, N.Y., to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge, on July 25, 2020 (Ira L. Black / Corbis via Getty Images)

As the relentless news cycle rages on, an antidote to despair—and an investment in democracy—is hyperlocal community-building around the issues that shape our interconnected lives. Local also feels essential and accessible at this moment.

As federal overreach erodes a foundational sense of safety across the U.S. that many with proximity to power or privilege took for granted, place-based organizing is a tangible way to bring about real social change—as demonstrated by movements for justice past and present.

In my daily life and organizing, I encounter people of various ages and backgrounds who feel stuck or unsure of what to do in this America. That’s when I recall Mr. Rogers’ wise words: “Look for the helpers”—particularly, the helpers most impacted and closest to the issues. In the quest for basic human rights and justice, I look for the everyday people in my community, across the country, who are carving paths of resistance—often with limited recognition or resources—who hold steady even when comforted with extreme pushback.

A volunteer watches protesters from a mutual aid van on Aug. 14, 2020, in Portland, Ore. (Nathan Howard / Getty Images)

In the era of encrypted messaging and social media, mutual aid groups and meal trains offer different ways to plug in and engage. Each of us can play a role, based on our interests and strengths, in co-creating a world where we all thrive across identity, geography and difference.

I often recommend Deepa Iyer’s Social Change Ecosystem Framework as a powerful starting point that helps me to recenter when my faith in humanity’s potential is challenged. The framework articulates different roles individuals may gravitate toward within movements for social change.

The Social Change Ecosystem Framework, by Deepa Iyer, is a practical resource for individuals, organizations and networks advancing justice, solidarity and community care.

I’ve noticed my role tends to shift depending on the spaces I move in.

Sometimes I am a “weaver,” “caregiver,” “disrupter” or “visionary.”

Sometimes, my role is to move back and take care of myself and my loved ones, so we can restore and replenish. Trying to resist the pull to be “on” all the time in times of urgency, although at times, circumstances require that.

Sometimes my role is to cook a meal for the frontline responders and healers.

Sometimes my role is to make public comments in support of policies that protect our community from ICE and district gerrymandering.

Sometimes my role is to bear witness, learn and keep moving forward.

In the last decade, I’ve watched fellow organizers embrace roles to drive change in my community and overcome challenges related to racism, gatekeeping and systemic inequities.

From running for office, to feeding the community, to leading art programs for BIPOC youth or crafting ICE whistle kits, here are some of the inspiring women and nonbinary folks in my life who hold steady, demonstrating different examples of how each of us could embrace a role in service of justice: 

  • There is “frontline responder,” Joslyn Stanfield, a Black woman from rural Oregon who organized some of our region’s first Black Lives Matter protests and has faced ongoing threats for her activism. Despite challenges, Stanfield, a mother and artist, continues to show up across the region to advance equitable policies and bravely critique local incidents of racial violence, injustice and affordability. Joslyn’s efforts have also put a spotlight on how rural communities in progressive states grapple with issues of equity and injustice and how we can do better.

  • Amanda Page is a principled “disrupter,” elected school board member, paramedic and Klamath Tribal member, running for Deschutes county commissioner, fighting for an inclusive democracy, focused on working families, sustainability and tribal sovereignty. As a school board leader, Page led a successful charge to ensure that local schools today are still guided by an Educational Equity policy, responsive to the unique identities and needs of the students.

  • Nonbinary and Brown, “builder” Kina Chadwick is a Bend-Lapine school board member and nonprofit leader at Gender Hive, who promotes inclusive policy and collaborates with healthcare providers to ensure that young, LGBTQIA and Two-Spirit people in rural areas have access to culturally responsive and gender-affirming care in spaces where they can be their whole selves. 

  • huong tran is a “healer” and “storyteller” who brings people together to learn about the history of diasporas and Asian folks in Oregon, trauma-informed practices, and neurodiversity, while celebrating healing and culture. huong recently hosted APIC’s “Spring Festival,” bridging beauty and joy with youth-led programming and community.

  • Catalina Sánchez Frank, an “experimenter” and “visionary,” is crafting bold projects and community rapid response training that bolster support and safety for the region’s immigrant community through her thoughtful leadership at the Latino Community Association.

  • Liz Goodrich, a lifelong “weaver and builder,” is a former teacher and key organizer with a mutual aid group that goes out in the desert east of town each Sunday to meet folks near where they live, providing food, community and friendship. Quite the chef and community connector, Goodrich is also always quick to nourish folks with snacks at a protest or connect individuals to resources ranging from book recommendations to housing.

  • Nonprofit leaders Kimberly Howard Wade and Karena Salmond are “visionaries and storytellers” at Caldera, an arts organization connecting young people in rural spaces to creative outlets to foster a sense of connection, agency, and leadership. Through this work, Caldera is nurturing the soil for young people to bloom and make a creative impact across Oregon and beyond.

  • Another “guide and builder” is LeeAnn O’Neill, who co-creates new possibilities rooted in restorative practices and equity through deep community building and dismantling systems of oppression and exclusion. She is currently working with community partners to create a rural-based Oregon Health Authority Regional Health Equity Coalition (RHEC) to advance equitable health for LGBTQIA+ and Two-Spirit folks across multiple counties, including tribal partners.

  • Then there’s my sister, Shabana, a community “caregiver” who is quick to offer a reassuring hug or offer to watch a house, pets or kids, and cheer on others on. In the background, she consistently champions others, providing a foundation of care that radiates beyond her own role to touch lives and movements.

Reflecting on this abbreviated list of community leaders dear to my heart, I can’t help but feel hopeful, even in dark times.

I also wonder: Who are the helpers in your community? What roles do they hold? What motivates or inspires you when the world feels on fire? Where do you find humor and connection to keep going?

I refuse to succumb to despair or intimidation. I will continue to lean into the power of community and creativity to help usher in a world in which we are free and whole in our humanity.

To each of you, crafting your own roles in the service of justice and equity, thank you for moving us closer to that new world. We are interconnected and in this together.

About

Committed to advancing democracy, justice and interconnection for collective liberation, Kerani Mitchell worked behind the scenes at Groundswell for eight years. She recently left to focus on local advocacy, where she already holds many roles, including being a board leader at Oregon Humanities and Caldera. Through her work, Mitchell is excited and grateful to amplify the leadership of local movers and shakers who are building a better world in the place she calls home.