I saw this quote from Shannon Craigo-Snell, and it may be helpful to take in:
“One of the tenets of resisting injustice is ‘do not acquiesce in advance.’ I am telling myself that a corollary is ‘do not despair in advance.’ Prepare, yes. Protect, yes. Grieve, yes. But not despair.”
There’s some definite wisdom there.
Last night, I was in a room where it happens. I won’t say the room where it happens, because I believe there are many such rooms. But the Interfaith Council for Peace and Justice (ICPJ) held its annual Harvest Dinner with a couple hundred people, and it was truly a room like that. With a great deal of connection and cross-pollination, relationships were forged and deepened. Multiple times, people said, “Look around this room,” inviting us to take in the scene. It was filled with community members who are change agents, activists, creatives, and people who love deeply. We had music and speeches that drew us together. We shared opportunities to applaud honorees who were presented with awards for their vision and work in our county.
Desirae Simmons, one of ICPJ’s Co-Directors, began her address by saying, “Gathering together is a radical act.” I appreciated that statement, and it felt undeniably true.
I also heard some additional quotes that will stay with me:
Shihab Jackson, recipient of the Anti-Racist Advocate Award, shared that our county includes 12% Black residents, but 40% of the county’s population experiencing homelessness are Black. Jackson then said, “Every trauma inflicted on our community deserves an equal and opposite level of joy.” We were invited into advocacy and joy together.
A Brighter Way is an organization that uplifts the experiences and leadership of people who have been formerly incarcerated. Through mentoring, they help each other to “find a brighter way and thrive.” Adam Grant, the Executive Director, said, “I believe justice is giving people what they need to be whole, not giving them what they ‘deserve’ because they haven’t been so.” He also added, “I don’t care what you’ve done; I care what you want to do. We’re not inviting people into avoidance. We’re inviting them into aspiration.” And then: “So many people have prayed for us. But don’t only do that in privacy, on the inside. Don’t only pray in the bedrooms. Pray for us in the boardrooms. That’s how we build change.” In great love for one another, the team of leaders at A Brighter Way lifted each other up with gratitude and with tears. Many of us in the room had those tears too.
Gathering together is truly a radical act. These gatherings create rooms where it happens.
— Renee Roederer
There is a phenomenon that sometimes occurs in care work, and it is a beautiful thing to witness. When we create a space where people feel truly safe and seen, they begin to share what is most important to them, the essence of who they are called to be, and the purposes that bring meaning to their lives.
It feels sacred to serve as a mirror in these moments. People start to voice their own affirmations, naming who they are, what they need, and what they are capable of doing. What is remarkable is that you do not need to tell them; you simply make room, and they find the words themselves. Basically, talking to you, they give themselves a pep talk. You get to bear witness, wholeheartedly agreeing as they lead the way.
And it is so special because as they speak these words, something shifts. The energy of those words moves through their bodies, aligning them with the very things they are naming. It is an experience of deep truth-telling, and it is powerful to be present for it.
I always feel immense gratitude when I witness one of these personal litanies of meaning. Moments like these remind me of the transformative power of being known, and the way our own words can help us see ourselves more fully.
— Renee Roederer
During these turbulent times we must remind ourselves repeatedly that life goes on.
This we are apt to forget.
The wisdom of life transcends our wisdoms;
the purpose of life outlasts our purposes;
the process of life cushions our processes.
The mass attack of disillusion and despair,
distilled out of the collapse of hope,
has so invaded our thoughts that what we know to be true and valid seems unreal and ephemeral.
There seems to be little energy left for aught but futility.
This is the great deception.
By it whole peoples have gone down to oblivion
without the will to affirm the great and permanent strength of the clean and the commonplace.
Let us not be deceived.
It is just as important as ever to attend to the little graces
by which the dignity of our lives is maintained and sustained.
Birds still sing;
the stars continue to cast their gentle gleam over the desolation of the battlefields,
and the heart is still inspired by the kind word and the gracious deed.
There is no need to fear evil.
There is every need to understand what it does,
how it operates in the world,
what it draws upon to sustain itself.
We must not shrink from the knowledge of the evilness of evil.
Over and over we must know that the real target of evil is not destruction of the body,
the reduction to rubble of cities;
the real target of evil is to corrupt the spirit of man
and to give his soul the contagion of inner disintegration.
When this happens,
there is nothing left,
the very citadel of man is captured and laid waste.
Therefore the evil in the world around us must not be allowed to move from without to within.
This would be to be overcome by evil.
To drink in the beauty that is within reach,
to clothe one’s life with simple deeds of kindness,
to keep alive a sensitiveness to the movement of the spirit of God
in the quietness of the human heart and in the workings of the human mind—
this is as always the ultimate answer to the great deception.
Excerpted from Meditations of the Heart by Howard Thurman
Before going to bed tonight, what if you remember and tell yourself a story of resilience — your own or one in your community? What would it be?
Also, I’d be willing to hear yours.
— Renee Roederer
This day is the one day that is before us — just this one.
If you can make it count by making it feel like it has some normalcy, or some joy, or especially some care, that is enough, and it is good.
But if that feels like rolling a boulder up a mountain right now, just take care of you as best you can. It is enough.
And as always, you are enough.
— Renee Roederer
Seven years ago, I met N.J. Phillips when we both showed up at a dinner in Ann Arbor and ended up at the same table. I had no idea that I was about to be introduced to such a tremendous person or the ways it would change the trajectory of my vocation.
As we sat at that dinner, she mentioned having epilepsy in childhood and I said, “Me too!” I had hardly ever met anyone else with epilepsy, and I had never met anyone who had so many commonalities and particularities that aligned with my own story and experiences.
She invited me to the Metro Detroit Stroll for the Epilepsy Foundation of Michigan. Immediately, I had a community around that experience that I had never had before. I had no idea that one year later I would make an entire career change and join the team there.
In N.J. I found kinship and a treasured friend.
And… speaking of treasure… Over the weekend, we joined seven other people in dressing up as pirates for a murder mystery dinner.
That dinner seven years ago in Ann Arbor led to friendship, commonality that I needed, a community, a career shift, and general scalliwaggery.
— Renee Roederer
It’s the week after the 2024 Election, and a lot of people are hurting. I would say that the vast majority of people in this country have some anxiety right now, ranging from mild to debilitating.
Here are some thoughts:
— If all you can do right now is sleep, rest, take medications, eat, and shower as best you can, that’s actually really big, and it’s okay for this to be enough.
— I think generally, it’s good to acknowledge big fears and honor how they feel, but also try as best we can to live in the day we’re in, both in its gifts and its challenges. A lot of the things we most fear haven’t happened yet. Some have, but others haven’t. Some might, and we can be proactive. But they also might not. And we have some very real ways of shaping those outcomes, even if we don’t control everything that happens.
— My biggest advice is to get involved in community. And I mean this in more than one way. Way number 1: If you are able to do it, get in the presence of other human beings, especially those we love. This calms our nervous systems, and we all deserve to feel that. We can cry, or just be, or have fun with abandon. We may need any or all of these. Way number 2: Find a community (you might already have one) where you can get involved in actions that care for others and meet people’s tangible needs. It might be a knitting club, a running group, a house of worship, a nonprofit organization, an activism organizing collective, a neighborhood circle, a friend-circle, or a political organization. Find one of these that is providing community care for group members and working actively to build positive change for people beyond the group itself. Be all-in in one of these communities or multiple of these communities. Don’t let anyone tell you that this isn’t valid, or “not the right kind of activism” (caveat, unless it’s actually hurting people) or “not enough” or “not worthy work.” It is. You have particular circles and gifts that are not replicable by all people. We need everyone’s uniqueness in building a better world — everyone’s best abilities and commitments, and everyone’s access to particular relationships with specific needs.
— You matter. You matter. You matter.
— Your neighbors matter. Your neighbors matter. Your neighbors matter.
— The communities of people you hear on the news are people who have names. Remember them. And allow yourselves to imagine that some of them may be remembering you (even if they don’t know your names).
— Think of people who have believed in you and your communities: the elders who sheltered you, chose you, mirrored you, and told you you’re the cat’s pajamas. (Maybe they didn’t say that exactly, but you are). All the things they saw in you have been and are real. Make them proud.
— You are loved, loveable, and capable of loving.
— If you find yourself thinking that none of it matters, or that your best work is just being washed away, grieve in ways you need to grieve, or get angry, but know this: Caring for one another in our communities is never fruitless. It wasn’t then; it isn’t now.
— Renee Roederer
Smuggling Grace 