As a global society, we are no longer in unprecedented times. That phrase lost its power some years back when health crises, human rights issues, and racial injustice became our norm. Collectively, we are having to problem-solve, repair, and educate—all while trying to heal. When we are faced with this kind of reality, it can be easy to slip into something resembling stagnation. Something that feels like hopelessness in a sea of cultural unrest (brought to you by your local news or social media post). It’s particularly challenging within marginalized communities, wherein the effects of said unrest are exacerbated and often overlooked. Understanding this is essential to our global healing. Recognizing the inequities of negative impacts from rising social issues is imperative. Communities of color, with disabilities, mental health, or substance abuse challenges, folks living in poverty or who face daily oppression, deserve the support of change-makers and scholars; of community members with the means and ability to rise out of stagnation.
Participating in this kind community healing and empowerment is another way of describing social justice—a term growing in its use (but not necessarily with its intent). Social justice does not portray one face. It is not personified solely by marches or signed petitions. Nor is it embodied by grand gestures or a dedicated full-time job. Sometimes social justice looks and feels more compact. Smaller-scale and closer to home. This Summer, Esperanza United collaborated with Tow Youth Justice Institute, along with the Office of Youth, Family & Engagement at the New Haven Public School District, to educate community youth about social justice. The program was held at Hillhouse High School in New Haven for five weeks, wherein local educators and advocates volunteered time and resources dedicated to participating youth. A diverse set of classes were offered to grades 6 through 12. The research and evaluation team at Esperanza United presented a workshop designed to engage and educate students on using art and storytelling to contribute to social change. Students learned about the history and activism of zines, hand-made and self-published social justice messages distributed in small circulations. Think of a tiny magazine full of cut-out letters and powerful images that can fit into the palm of your hand (or a table in a public restroom). Zines have fluctuated in their popularity, starting during the civil rights movement in the 60s and 70s, returning to feminist groups in the 80s, and regaining popularity with current activist communities of Gen Z. It is an innovative way to voice social messages without the means for professional publication. It teaches youth to tap into their creative minds and share theirs and their communities’ stories in the name of social justice. Students in the Summer program outdid themselves with their zine creations. Some displayed their own poetry, describing injustices and trauma they’ve experienced. Others designed artwork cut from various magazines to portray powerful realities of Black and Brown lives. Colorful zines adorned with, “Our Body Our Choice”, and “Get loud about climate change”, were proudly shared by participating students. What felt the most powerful to me, was the shift in participation during each workshop. When we first started, our walk-through zine history and the importance of social justice were met with blank stares and heads looking down at their phones. Students were initially hesitant to share their opinions or social interests. Then supplies were passed out. Suddenly, students’ artistic visions started to bloom. Heads were bent towards their desks, only this time, they were focused on precise image placement or clean handwriting. Students who, a half hour ago seemed disinterested, walked up to me with proud smiles and wanting to show off their work. Many of them asked if they can take theirs home to continue working on them, and others ended up staying into the next session to make another. Youth voices are powerful. They can create change when fostered and respected, and deserve collaboration and investment.
Our capacity for social justice, like youth’s ability to come out of their shells, will fluctuate. Sometimes, we will have the time and energy to dedicate our work to empirical research and policy change. Other times, we’ll be burnt out or simply feel defeated. It would be easy to sit into that defeat and convince ourselves that we cannot make the changes we seek. In these moments, we can look to our local communities. We can share knowledge or distribute resources. We can spend time with the next generation and have important conversations, validating their humanity and capacity for power. Stagnation will call, and we will rest in the name of resistance. But after we’ve rested and healed, we are called to action. Called to contribute to our global healing and invest in an equitable and accessible future for marginalized communities and power-wielding youth.
