And the Mississippi’s mighty, and it starts in Minnesota
At a place that you could walk across from five steps down.—Indigo Girls
It Was a Small Thing
I was walking with a friend in my neighborhood when I ran into an older couple I know well. Normally, I’m horrible at remembering people’s names. Because I tend to panic, I sometimes even forget the names of people I’ve known for years.
On this particular day, however, I took a courageous breath, hugged my friend, and her name popped into my head. Vickie! And then I hugged her husband. Sam! I was able to happily introduce them to my walking buddy, Renato, without making a single social faux pas. As the cars whizzed by, everyone shook hands, and we chatted and laughed for a few minutes.
Like I said, it was a small, unremarkable moment, but is it also insignificant by default?
Are Small Things Always Insignificant?
Ever since I started Americans of Conscience nine years ago, I’ve put a lot of energy into improving the numbers. For starters, we count how many actions you take in the Checklist (thanks for clicking those checkboxes!). We also track website traffic, social media reach, online engagement, subscriber trends, etc. I consider it my job to inspire and engage as many people as possible, so the bigger the numbers, the better.
Or so I’ve always thought.
What about you? Have you ever heard questions like these:
- What’s the point in voting? One vote doesn’t matter.
- Why bother calling when he doesn’t listen to what I value?
- What’s the point in showing up to protest when no one is paying attention?
If you’re like me, you may have a very strong tendency to downplay the value of things we consider small. The remembered name. The phone call. The simple, unmeasurable moments.
I heard a comedian once say that having a hundred followers on Instagram was embarrassing, but a full house with a hundred people? That’s a success. It’s exactly the same number of people. Maybe big numbers aren’t the only important thing.
We Have Big Problems in Need of Solving
If you’re reading this message, you are probably concerned about the state of the nation and the world. If so, you likely have big goals in mind to address those concerns: Win a majority. Pass a bill. Stop the corporate overlords. Get so-and-so out of power. All of these are big goals.
What gets missed amid the urgency and pervasive mess is the brass-tacks reality of how to turn big goals into real change. It’s not big actions. It’s not big turnout, big gestures, or mighty heroes. We know this because if you look back through history, moments of significant social change weren’t even measurable at first. What they looked like was a bunch of misfits doing things that seemed naive, pointless, or even dangerous.
Think of the Efforts by Small Groups of People That Seemed Futile at First, Even Laughable
My queer-kin rabblerousers at Stonewall Inn in 1969 New York finally saying enough to police harassment. Or environmentalist tree-sitter Julia Butterfly Hill in 1997 finally saying enough to old-growth logging. Or people being beaten in the 1800s for holding signs in favor of women voting and saying enough to the sexist patriarchy.
None of those people—when they first showed up—had any certainty that their efforts would lead to massive change. They didn’t have the data to support it. They just knew they’d had enough of the old way to do something–even something seemingly useless—about it.
How To Take Down a Corporate Overlord
Consider a contemporary issue like Flock’s 120,000+ surveillance cameras pointed at American roads. Their practices are profitably skirting our 4th Amendment rights as they create unique profiles of every person’s car—yours and mine—while making grotesque amounts of money from government contracts (looking at you, ICE).
Their corporate might seems insurmountable. But is it?
We can shake our tiny fists at this outrageous injustice. I often do. But if we want to take down a behemoth like Flock, we need actions that, at least from the outside, seem appallingly insufficient. Laughable. Unexceptional. Ridiculous.
Here Are a Few Recent Efforts Against Flock:
- People designed a printable cover called the Flock Sock that renders highway surveillance cameras useless, all without illegal damage. Will that take down Flock? No.
- More than one tech-savvy person has created a website with maps showing real-time locations of every Flock camera in the U.S. Will they take down Flock together? No.
- University students on numerous campuses are meeting with administration to address legitimate privacy issues and urge the removal of Flock cameras from the grounds. Will those in power take action based on student pressure? Not likely.
- Countless Americans are picking up the phone and writing letters to elected officials objecting to Flock’s practices and advocating for their (and their neighbors’) right to live free from unreasonable, warrantless searches. Will those in power listen to people who aren’t campaign donors? Wishful thinking.
Or is it?
Here’s the Thing About All These Small, Even Laughable Actions
In spite of the apparent inadequacy of these puny individual efforts by creatives, citizens, students, and other Americans of conscience, so far, more than 150 municipalities have taken down surveillance cameras and/or broken contracts with Flock. Several school districts, a county sheriff, and even an entire state (Florida!) have all removed Flock cameras.
What Led to Those Outcomes?
Not a single hero. Not a single bill introduced in Congress. Not a single SCOTUS case. Not one huge gesture. These outcomes were a direct result of myriad actions so small, we genuinely think they don’t matter. Actions like having an idea. A conversation. A one-minute phone call to the right person. An hour holding a handmade sign. A boring meeting with 40 other people on uncomfortable chairs who happen to share your concerns.
Small Is Not the Same as Insignificant
In the cacophony of chaos, we want to win big. We want the mighty arm of Lady Liberty to swing wide and defeat all those who hate justice and democracy and compassion. But in our discomfort and urgency, we sometimes forget that meaningful change doesn’t come in one fell swoop.
When we diminish and downplay the importance of small efforts, we lose the opportunity to let Lady Liberty live in us. Through our words. Through our actions. Through the choices we make. In how We the People show up.
We cannot know the outcome of this tumultuous chapter until it has been written. But it is being written right now, today. The question is this:
In a Year or a Decade, Will Your Name Be on Those Pages?
While my moment on the street may seem inconsequential, it is community connection that literally makes change possible. Without meaningful connection, we’re all just staring dead-eyed at our screens in full-blown panic or intractable cynicism.
If you have friendships, neighbors, a little trust, places to gather, ideas, listening, and even the ability to remember people’s names, then you have all the unremarkable but crucial ingredients required for change.
So, if you’re reaching the point of having had enough of this mess, start doing pointless and unremarkable things. Do it because you now know: That which creates lasting change is much smaller—and a lot easier—than we think.
In solidarity,
Jen Hofmann