Self-care and interdependence

A follow up to last week's post - with media recommendations

Thank you, Stackers, for your responses to last week’s Emergency Hug post. Several of you reached out to me to say you appreciated my words of solidarity and support. And I needed to hear from you, to know that my instinct to share those words wasn’t self-indulgent, though it was in many ways something that I myself needed, self-care in a fashion.

Which brings me to the two themes I want to focus on today: self-care and interdependence.

Self-care has gotten a bad rap as it’s been co-opted by corporations to sell us more things and feeds into the rugged individualism trope we’re entrenched in in America (from the Wikipedia link: “Martin Luther King Jr. notably remarked on the term in his speech "The Other America" on March 10, 1968: "This country has socialism for the rich, rugged individualism for the poor."^[5] ).

And yet, some of us have to be reminded to breathe, stretch, feed ourselves, step away and rest (if only so we can continue to support others) because there isn’t a permission structure to prioritize ourselves and our own well-being.

The first link above is Ann Gold Buscho’s Psychology Today article “How Did Self-Care Get Co-Opted By Big Business?” from 2019 (I wanted to find something from before the pandemic) and the beginning and end sections are particularly helpful for the points I’m making here (the rest is focused on divorce and separation, which may or may not be useful to you). This chunk in particular is relevant:

The concept is not new. Self-care started as a medical term, as early as the late 19th century, and was picked up later in the women’s, civil rights, and LGBTQ movements, where it was politicized.[1] In the last 25 years, the concept of self-care meshed well with the growth of evidence-based positive psychology and preventative medicine. Despite this, most of us are still ignoring our own physical, mental, and psychological needs, with our careless and sometimes self-destructive lifestyles.

Children do pretty well when it comes to self-care, and we adults help them. When they are hungry, they let us know, and we feed them. When they are tired, they let us know that too, and they crash. They have a strong drive to learn, their instinct to socialize is innate, and they play. Play is defined as “engaging in activity for enjoyment and recreation rather than a serious or practical purpose.” There is no other goal than the pure joy of play. Do you remember the last time you played, laughed out loud, or did something silly, just for the sheer pleasure of it? One of the first things we lose when we leave our childhood is the ability to simply play.

The reference is Aisha Harris’s 2017 Slate article “A History of Self-Care,” which talks about self-care as a psychological tool, then a political tool (MLK, Audre Lorde and the Black Panthers), then being co-opted in the 80s and 90s by fitness and wellness culture, then used as a tool of resistance again in the wake of collective trauma and repeated attempts by corporate interests to use self-care rhetoric to sell us things.

Don’t get me wrong, money very often can buy better health and wellness, in addition to luxuries both big and small (last year, I splurged with some FSA money I had to spend and got a very cozy heating pad with more settings and a larger surface area - money well spent). But self-care is more much than what money can buy and even more crucial for individuals and communities without structural support and resources.

From the 2017 Slate article:

As with previous incarnations of self-care, there are those who roll their eyes and criticize proponents for engaging in something they view as extravagant or just lazy. In some instances, they may have a point. Those practicing and encouraging self-care regularly, however, usually echo a famous quote from Audre Lorde’s 1988 book of essays, A Burst of Light: “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.”

So. Take a deep breath. Maybe even do 30-60 seconds of box breathing.

Our first step right now is to slow down. Unless you are feeling a burst of energy and purpose at the moment (and if you are, please let me know, because I have to know how), unless you are working on a specific project with a deadline (and maybe even if you are and the deadline can be reset or the project can be restructured): slow down.

I’m talking to myself as much as any of you, because I tend to make the most mistakes or burn out when I don’t slow down. Grieve the results of the most recent election, distract yourself with something comforting or amusing, sleep and rest. As Mandi Em says in “Feral Self-Care”: “Throw yourself a pity party, but give yourself a curfew.”

It’s your curfew, but keep in mind that grief is not linear and doesn’t abide by a timeline (as I’ve been reminded recently when thinking about my plans for 2020). So you can’t “do self-care” in one big burst and be done for a lifetime, a year, a month or even a week. It’s something to do regularly, in the midst of normal life and everything else going on. So start small and manageable, something you can scale up or down, but do daily/weekly/as needed to build your self-care habit. Set reminders. Get an accountability buddy. Take advantage of free opportunities (libraries, parks, book clubs, etc.) and pick something that makes you happy or helps you relax to prioritize. If ever there was an imperative, it’s this: you need to do prioritize self-care.

But you also don’t have to do it alone. In fact, even if you’re an introvert and even if you’re not able to leave the house easily, I encourage you to find community in whatever way you can and re-engage community you might not have been able to prioritize because of family, health or work demands.

“This practice helps prepare her [Shinise Muse] to help the crisis counselors help those in need. “I do that every day as a reminder to check in with myself and … know I owe myself myself, as well as giving myself to other people,” she tells me.

Muse’s daily routine is a perfect example of something Petrzela told me. “Caring for the self and caring about society actually can be interconnected,” she said.” - Harris, Slate 2017

When I started working at the library in 2015, no one told me about compassion fatigue and burnout, but I felt it very quickly. Later, I vividly remember learning about box breathing from a social worker (our work can be very similar) and we started hearing about self-care techniques. But I was already in crisis when I first tried to self-consciously administer self-care. And even once I became more competent in self-care techniques promoted in work trainings, what I could do on my own wasn’t enough.

It is unfortunate that the concept of self-care has been co-opted by corporations in misleading and unhealthy ways. When workers actually need to work more reasonable hours or in better working conditions, the kind of self-care you might see is expressed in an article about how seven “super successful women leaders" added self-care to their schedule.[3] - Buscho, Psychology Today, 2019

In 2020, I became a labor activist alongside my co-workers and have been helping re-build my union local ever since.

I had been increasingly radicalized by Trump’s first term, but my process initially began with reading (as most things do for me). I’m planning to create a list of some of the books that I read during that period and another list of books I’m planning to read as I further investigate our history, what I believe and what I’m willing to fight for.

But it was conditions at work in the early days of the Coronavirus pandemic, as well as local political issues related to my work, that galvanized me to act.

And action is just as vital as self-care. Maybe it takes a few weeks, months or even years for you to stabilize, educate yourself and find your communities. But start now, in whatever ways you can.

Here’s why. Community is self-care. Investing time, attention and resources in other people is often the most reliable and rewarding safety net. Mutual aid and care is a long tradition for humans - it’s almost impossible for us to survive and thrive alone. This is the entire reason we build families, societies, governments and other groups, be they religious, political or pleasure-oriented.

Ijeoma Oluo has already said most of this far better than I ever could in her 2021 Substack “Is It Self-Care, or Is It Capitalism?” which was so good and resonated very deeply for me, though our lived experiences in this world are very different. I’ll only quote a small bit here, but I encourage all of you to go read it in full and subscribe to her Substack, as I have.

Community care is why I’m here. It is why I am alive. As a Black woman. As a Nigerian-American, community care is my legacy. It is how generations before me have survived a world that has devalued them as individuals. Community care is how so many people of color have been able to affirm their individual and collective value. Community care is how we have been able to create spaces for growth and healing in a world that tries to crush us. Community care will seek to make the self-care that you also need possible regardless of your economic status. When I participate in community care, I honor my heritage and my true self.

Under-resourced and marginalized communities have already experienced everything we’re experiencing and everything we fear and anyone currently feeling confused, scared and angry has a lot to learn about our collective history and tactics for survival and resistance. I’ll happily recommend books, podcasts, essays, organizations, etc. that have benefited me, but I hope that everyone who’s early in this journey (as I was, relatively and embarrassingly recently) is ready to first: listen and do the work to process defensiveness and anger without releasing it on others and also: engage with work that is already in the world rather than to demand answers and support on the spot from individuals who may not be able to give.

I want to be very clear that I owe a great debt to the work of others - women and activists throughout history who I’ve never met, scholars and historians who have excavated and written about those activists and periods of history that were willfully buried under propaganda, to the individuals in my life who taught me and trusted me to learn what I had not been taught as a white girl in Georgia in the 80s and 90s, about Capitalism, white supremacy, structural racism and my role in actively resisting the above.

A lot of people reading this have been doing resistance and community work for a long time and everyone here also has a lot to teach, so if you’re reading this, please know that I’m hoping we can collectively build communities that share with and learn from each other.

When you’re ready, join your union or local mutual aid organizations (if you’re in New Orleans or Louisiana, I might be able to help you find some good ones). Join local chapters of DSA, Emily’s List, Indivisible, ACLU and Run for Something - not because these organizations are perfect, but because they are informing and resisting. No perfect candidate or organization exists, but you can make them better, hold them to account, if you participate.

That counts double for your city council, mayor, state legislature and governor. Pay attention - sign up for newsletters and/or volunteer for local organizations that are watching and reporting on what’s going on. Support and read local non-profit news organizations (like The Lens and The Louisiana Illuminator here in New Orleans/Louisiana).

Buy and read books like those from Pluto Press (50% off through Dec 5th) and Jacobin. Use and support your library and if you buy books, support local used/thrift bookshops when possible, or buy new at local shops or Bookshop.org (rather than Amazon, for lots of reasons). I like Bookshop because you can support small, local bookshops (like Black-owned Grand Gesture Books in Portland, OR) and also affiliates without a storefront, like me.

Whew. Take a breath. I’m throwing a lot at you. Maybe this is overwhelming. I meant to do a shorter post and maybe follow up with more information later. But it all just came out of me now.

You don’t have to do all or any of what I’m suggesting and you don’t have to do any or all of it at immediately or at the same time.

But, my most important point is that you can do something. All is not lost. There are big and small things you can do, now and later. There is something that anyone reading this can do. We need everyone we can get in this fight, so first focus on self- and community- care and then widen out your scope as your capacity grows.

It might come in spurts. Winter is coming, so this is a natural time to hibernate a bit and slow down. Use this time to recuperate and read. Reconnect with yourself and your communities. Get real clear about who and what you’re fighting for, what you’re willing and able to do toward that fight.

And you don’t have to do it alone - you can’t do it alone. But there are so many of us who need each other to survive what’s coming and thrive in the face of it. Let’s show up for each other. And yeah, I’m really pissed and devastated about the election results, but ultimately, the reminder that I’m not alone in what I’m feeling now or in the fight ahead is ultimately an incredibly beautiful and positive notion.