When I entered college, I had one goal in mind: to be as involved as possible, and to make the most out of my time, treasure and talents. Turned off by my high school's student government experience (as it consisted of glamorized poster making), I find it quite ironic that the first thing I became involved with student government immediately upon entering college. Before I knew it, I became involved with a flurry of causes affecting the University of California. I was completely in awe of what passionate students were capable of, and I wanted more and more of it.
Yet as each project developed, it came with a thousand more meetings, proposals, and administrative setbacks. The change I wanted to see was often blurred by the difficulty of changing long-lasting attitudes, beliefs and stigmas towards an issue. I wanted to see policy changes, expanded services, and bettered facilities, and I was unprepared for how difficult the vision would be to bring to fruition. By the end of the year, I had entered my "activism existential crisis", the constant wondering of whether or not I had wasted a year of my potential sitting in meetings, drafting papers, writing resolutions, or planning events. Did I waste my shot to make change? Was I a bad changemaker after all?
This work is tough, and often comes without short-term gratification. It's difficult, though not impossible, to create tangible change within the administrative red tape set up through the university, while still paying attention to our regular duties as students, workers, children, siblings, friends, and researchers. If you're like me and feeling discouraged at the difficulty of creating change as a university step, remember these four things:
1. This fight is not about us.
Often, when a campaign is developed or a project is proposed, it's easy to become consumed by the work. We stay up late. Our advocacy work leaks into every conversation, and it becomes the sole focus of every issue until it is addressed. While the tenaciousness is necessary for creating productive change and building meaningful coalitions, it's often difficult to take a step back and ask ourselves why we do this effort. If we have projects that bring awareness, events that have the best speakers, activities that change the world, and policies that prevent the issue from occurring, but lack the desire to positively change the community for the long-term betterment, our efforts are in vain. Student activism is not a line to add on a resume, it is the inevitable, natural response out of constant marginalization and the historical struggle for an intergenerational voice for higher education. It is not about us. It is about changing lives for the better, no matter how long the change takes.
2. Everything meaningful will take time to create.
Rome was not built in a day. Beyonce did not become famous in an hour of work. One Direction had to fail their individual X-Factor pursuits before they became the multi-million dollar band they became known for. Good things are going to take time, effort, and passion. If we create change hastily without considering the needs of specific communities, policy implications, or the societal consequences of what we try to change, often our efforts are complicated instead of bettered. If you are discouraged on how long it takes to create long-lasting change, remember that the fight is not one that began during our generation, and it's going to take everything we have to continue to work towards the progression of the causes we care about. This fight is about progression, not perfection.
3. You are still a human.
Often, advocacy work comes without thank you's or considerations of other priorities, but it is vital to recognize your own needs as well. As student activists, many of us are taking full-time classes, working to afford tuition, applying to graduate programs, and continuing our responsibilities in extracurricular or volunteer work. We cannot do this alone. Our fight is not an isolated one. We need each other, but often we need to recognize when to step back and to remember our own needs. It's difficult to pour into others when you feel like an empty cup. You are still a human being, and a badass one at that. Just don't forget your own needs in the process.
4. Sometimes, our efforts cannot be quantified through physical results.
On campus, I care a lot about the accessibility of mental health services to students, faculty and staff. Our own mental health facilities are run-down, crowded, and too small to meet the overwhelming need for counseling services, and thus a dream in my heart began for an expanded counseling center. The dream began this year, but it probably won't happen within my time at the university, realistically speaking. It's discouraging and tough to swallow such fate, but it's necessary to recognize that speaking about mental health concerns have created conversations within administrative spaces, student government spaces, and peer spaces, in which it was previously looked down upon to mention mental health. The conversations we start matter. The little wins matter. We must celebrate, unify, and empower each other to keep going -- even when immediate physical change is not always detectable.
As the summer begins, do not let your heart become discouraged by the lack of action that you may feel. We must love and support each other, our wins, and our causes relentlessly, in a society that values anything but. In the words of Margaret Mead, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world -- in fact, it's the only thing that ever has."