Conversations, yard signs, and what happens when you take a risk
By Julie Mathison, author and AoCC volunteer
Mahatma Gandhi once said, “It’s the action, not the fruit of action, that’s important.”
Okay. Well, that sounds reasonable, and if Gandhi said it, it must be true. Why, then, does it sometimes seem like our actions are an exercise in futility?
Our AoCC subscribers are some of the most steadfast, committed people out there—emailing representatives, donating to deserving organizations, crafting personalized comments for the federal register. We know what you do.
And we know that sometimes you take action when you don’t feel like it, when life is just a little too overwhelming and the headlines too relentless. The pace of change is exponential. The destruction of long-held norms and institutions has become the new normal. So it’s no wonder that a question sometimes haunts us:
How do we ever really know if we’ve made a difference?
Amy Lamb has been a volunteer with AoCC for the last seven years on the immigration team. A retired educator living in Northumberland, Virginia, she’s maintained her ties to the community and her passion for its educational system.
Last April, when the local school board admitted to mishandling the district’s finances, Amy was in favor of holding the board accountable. But she was disturbed by a new ballot initiative purporting to address financial issues by changing the structure of the board itself from an elected to an appointed system. This seemed to be a Trojan horse—using the financial crisis as a pretext to alter the board’s fundamental nature, stripping voters of their rights, and perhaps enabling back-door funding reductions.
She reached out to fellow activists but found little interest in mounting an opposition campaign, and, for a while, she tried to set her misgivings aside. But as time went on, the feeling only grew that something must be done. Amy believed that school boards should be held accountable through democratic processes, and that their membership should embody a variety of viewpoints and expertise—and, above all, a passion for public education.
So, she got to work. She contacted a friend with some skills in graphic design and asked her to create 500 postcards urging a NO vote on the referendum, then used a mailing list from a previous campaign to target voters who might be undecided. Over the next six weeks, she enlisted a few friends to help her create and distribute 50 yard signs to community members who had heard about her efforts on Facebook. She also asked people to write letters to the editor of local papers.
And when the measure appeared on the November 4th ballot? It was defeated by 62% of the electorate.
It was a victory, though Amy will never know how much of it was her victory. She understands it is possible that the measure would have failed even without the efforts of her small band of friends.
But for Amy, that’s not the point.
Yes, social action is about creating specific outcomes, yet activism is more than the sum of its parts. In taking bold action aligned with her core values, Amy was affirming not just those values but the system that gives her the freedom to express them in our shared civic space.
Our civic participation delivers benefit first and foremost to ourselves as we connect with the things we value most—and then extends beyond us by touching others. We experience ourselves as agents of self-governance, not merely as subjects, prey to forces beyond our control.
But perhaps the most important benefit of social action is one that is hidden from immediate view.
We do not merely validate our democracy in exercising our rights, we perpetuate it. For although it is rarely certain that we’ve achieved some particular result, it is always certain that if we fail to act as individuals, and if this failure is magnified over the whole of a nation, then democracy ceases to exist.
The Gandhi quote continues: “You may never know what results come from your actions. But if you do nothing, there will be no result.”
Civic action is the lifeblood of democracy, and the vigor of a democracy is proportional to its presence —or absence. And even the smallest action plays a role in maintaining that vitality, be it a phone call, a petition signature, a conversation with a friend, a donation to a local charity, or even time spent pondering what we care about when it comes to the common good.
We hope you’ll take heart from Amy’s story, and see yourself reflected in it, for it is you, our subscribers, who fulfill the promise of our own efforts here at AoCC. The hours we spend researching, crafting, and then amplifying calls for collective action are redeemed with each email you send, each conversation you engage in, touching hearts and changing minds as we carry forward our shared commitment to a stronger democracy, a thriving planet, and equality for all—one action at a time.
Thank you for this.