Valarie Kaur with Baratunde on "How to Citizen"
On the opening episode of his “How to Citizen” podcast, Baratunde conducts a remarkable interview with Valarie Kaur, author of See No Stranger,. Kaur clearly articulates the spirit that drives the Systemopedia with her holistic worldview and her affirmation of mutual support for self-development..
With her Revolutionary Love Project, Kaur’s addresses our relationships with ourselves as well as our relationship with others. She examines internal changes we must make to our minds and hearts as well as institutional reforms. In response to whether we are experiencing the darkness of the womb or the darkness of the tomb, she replies, “It’s both” because we see the “dying of the nation we thought we were” as well as the emergence of transformation. Large numbers of whites joining in Black Lives Matter demonstrations was particularly encouraging.
External work such as getting to know our neighbors with an open heart is critical. The founder of the Sikh faith affirmed “I see no enemy.” Kaur believes that “to be truly anti-racist is to orient to the world in a new way,” which involves “not to be a stranger to self or others…. Looking at wisdom traditions, I saw patterns, practices of love… That’s how we last, grow old, and I want to grow old.”
As a Sikh, the threat of Sikhs and Muslims after 2001 led to the birth of Kaur’s activism. She drove across the country and collected stories. Unfortunately, the “backlash” she found persists. “The labor for justice is long and hard, she says. “How does it become an end in itself? A source of joy that s the meaning of life.”
Baratunde asks, “Where have you been in community?” and she talks about grieving together after a mass shooting…. Grieving is front-line social justice work…. We are building relationships and nurturing revolution that will dismantle and reimagine institutions of power in this county.”
“Empathy is a prelude to organizing,” Baratunde comments. Kaur replies
We are reclaiming love as a force for justice. Grieving together is revolutionary love. Holding each other in our rage is revolutionary love. Listening to each other is revolutionary love. Reimaging the country together is revolutionary love. As well as the big acts of policy demands, all of that is part of an ecosystem of a vibrant movement espousing the ethic of love.
Concerning how she conceives power, she says,
There is political power…. But Black sisters and brothers have inspired me with their power, their resilience, their wisdom, in their ability to love beyond limits…. We are called to unpack that kind of power….. Merely resisting traps us in an us-and-them adversarial relationship that puts them in power and keeps us powerless…. Now we are moving from resistance to reimaging every institution, not just criminal justice, and the economy but also the small institutions in our lives, our families, our industries, our houses of worship…. All of the great reformers in history held up a vision of the world as it should be…. [We need] not just unseat bad actors but also reimagine the institutions of power that order the world. Any social harm can be traced to the institutions that produce it, authorize it, or otherwise profit from it. To undo the injustice we have to imagine new institutions and step in to lead them.
Baratunde comments, “That sounds big. Those leaders are big. What is the role of the ordinary person?” Kaur responds, “All of us have a sphere of influence, a community within reach we labor and can help transition. [Reading from her book:] We must be the long-burning star… There is no greater gift than to be part of a movement larger than ourselves. We only have to be responsible for our own small patch of sky….
“That’s dope. We are all stars,” Baratunde replies, and then says, “I hesitated to put “citizen” in the title of this show. Kaur resonates, “I have struggled over that word…. [But] all of us are “citizens.”
On another issue, Baraatunde comments “Others may be oppressive,” and asks. “How to engage with those who are not like-minded?” Kaur answers,
If someone has a knee on your neck, it is not necessarily your role to look up at your oppressor and wonder about him, or even try to love him. Your job is to stay alive, to take the next breath, to survive. That is your revolutionary act. But if you are someone by virtue of your white skin or whatever privilege you wield, who is safe enough or brave enough to sit with those kinds of opponents then perhaps it is your role to tend to their wounds…. All of those disaffected white folks out there will still be there after election day. So what do we do with them? This book reports on when I have sat with them and right at the point that I want to leave I stay and behind their slogans and sound bites I start to hear their stories and then I start to see their pain, their wounds. I learned there is no such thing as monsters in this world. There are only human beings who are wounded, who do what they do out of their own sense of insecurity or anxiety or greed or blindness. And their participation in oppression comes at a cost. It cuts them off from their own capacity to love.
So revolutionary love is strategic. It is pragmatic. Because once I get information about what institutions are radicalizing or authorizing you to hurt us I can be so much smarter about our campaigns for change. Our goal then is not just to unseat a few bad apples. We can dismantle and/or reimagine the institutions of power that harm all of us..Our suffering is not equal, but those who hold the keys to our cells, who are trained to see us as animals, that too takes a cost. So what does it mean to hold up a vision that liberates all of us? That is our revolutionary intervention.
Baratunde replies, “Also, in a collective sense, we’re in a collective relationship with our nation and it has traumas and a past and it has pain. For us not merely to condemn but wonder about and seek to understand this place that we have a right to. Papers or no papers we have contributed something.”
Kaur replies:
Loving just our opponents is self-loathing. Loving just ourselves is escapism. Loving just others is ineffective and too many of our movements have been there. And I’m really proud of the deep bonds of solidarity we are seeing in how people are loving each other in our movements for justice. But many young activists are dying early or taking their lives or getting sick or opting out. We’re not building enough spaces to help each other love ourselves. How many of us are tempted to mirror the kind of vitriol we are fighting. We cannot blame what we are fighting against. So this ethic of love, to hold ourselves in community, and to start to practice and cultivate love for ourselves, even for our opponents and others. That I think is how we can sustain each other, a way we can last with integrity, with our souls intact.
What happens if we don’t focus on ourselves?
We lose everything….. I don’t call it self-love. You need a community to help you. We don’t give birth alone. We don’t go to battle alone. We need each other. Cultivating communities of care where we are taking seriously our own precious lives. I worry sometimes about this incredible new rising generation. I see myself in them…. I also want to tell them, Breathe, my love. It’s going to be one long labor. Are you sleeping enough? Drinking enough water? Will you love yourself enough?
In conclusion, Bartunde asks, “In focusing on Trump did we give him too much power?” Karu replies, “Of course. [But I too] even thought he was an aberration…. It is a continuation of white supremacy. Trump is a symptom….. Will we begin to birth a nation that has never been on this planet? …. Joy is our greatest act of resistance….. So how are you protecting your joy?”
Baratunde concludes with five prompts concerning things you can do internally and externally to strengthen your citizen practice, which is adapted from Valarie’s book. It’s a writing exercise. He suggests: Take 15 minutes and write for yourself responses to:
What is your superpower in our fight to make society better for us all? Is it your pen, your voice, your checkbook?
What protects you and who has your back when things get tough?
Who is your beloved community? Your revolutionary pocket? The group you connect most with? The group that will show up when things get tough?
What object or activity grounds you and reminds you who you are?
Where do you find joy and what are you going to do every day to protect that joy?