Ep 43: How to Keep Fighting for a Ceasefire when You Can’t Go Marching: Wisdom from Disability Justice 

[INTRODUCTION]

Sawadee ka, and welcome to the Come Back to Care podcast. A place where we’re re-imagining parenting to be deeply decolonized and intentionally intergenerational. If you’ve been looking for ways to practice social justice in your daily parenting and nurture your child’s development while re-parenting your inner child, I’m so glad you’re here. I am your host, Nat Nadha Vikitsreth, a decolonized and licensed clinical psychotherapist, somatic abolitionist, and founder of Come Back to Care. A dot connector, norm agitator and lover of liberation. In this podcast, we turn down the volume of oppressive social norms and outdated family patterns so that we can hear our inner voice and raise our children by our own values too. We come back home to our body and the goodness within. We come back to our lineages and communities. And we come back to care… together. So come curious and come as you are.

[EPISODE]

There’s a specific flavor of shame that many social justice conscious parents and caregivers like yourself often feel when you can’t drop everything to join a protest and demand a ceasefire in Gaza. Children need to be picked up from school. Or the elderly in your care need your company and medical assistance. It’s a specific type of pain when your role as a parent or caregiver forces you to choose between caregiving responsibilities and social justice advocacy. My co-struggler, I know you’re here because you’ve been taking those actions that are within your capacities to resist genocide and demand a ceasefire in Gaza. Yet, as of this episode’s recording, Israel’s siege has killed at least 10,300 Palestinians, and 4,200 of those lives lost were children. This awareness can stir up a sense of “I’m not doing enough.” I know this shame, this pain, and this “I need to do more.” I’m with you, I’m with you, I’m with you. I also know that marching in the streets is not the only way to protest. Many activists with disabilities, chronic illnesses, or who are parents and caretakers, or who are poor and working class have practiced other ways to organize and mobilize from their beds, sickbeds, wheelchairs, their phones, their spreadsheet expertise, and in other non-ableist and creative ways. Disability Justice offers deep wisdom and medicine that we can learn from. So that you and I can find ways to end this genocide while surviving the Hunger Game of Capitalism without burnout and cynicism. 

Welcome back to episode 43 of the Come Back to Care Podcast. In this episode, you and I are going to unpack this question: how do we keep fighting for liberation in Gaza, Sudan, Congo, and Ukraine in between school drop off, pick up, and grocery runs? How do we fight against antisemitism and Islamophobia in between our work shifts, Zoom meetings, and the kids’ homework? How do we grieve the lives that have been lost when we can’t fall apart…otherwise the whole family will fall apart too? I invite you to explore a liberatory practice from disability justice by adapting the rhythm and pacing of your advocacy according to your capacity to replace burnout with sustained organizing. In this rhythm and pacing, you’ll experiment with ways to unplug and other advocacy actions to take to stay plugged in. It’s a bit of political analysis, a bit of neuroscience, and a whole lot of action.  

But before we begin, please allow me to clarify the “why.” This episode’s purpose isn’t an excuse for us to stop demanding a ceasefire because things get too hard. It’s also not a plea for us to become saviors or martyrs. It’s a firm and compassionate invitation for us to pace ourselves in this fight to end genocide and apartheid. Yes, it’s a true privilege for us to listen to a podcast while bombs are being dropped in Gaza…bombs that are funded by our tax dollars. And it’s even more important for us to adjust our rhythm and pacing of advocacy. Because white colonial capitalist patriarchy’s old playbook is banking on us getting tired and giving up. The oppressors are waiting for us to get burnt out and leave the movement. Or to numb out and get stuck in apathy, cynicism, and inaction. I invite you to join me in this practice of sustained organizing. So that our cups aren’t dry when we show up for our Muslim and Palestinian comrades in solidarity. So that our cups aren’t dry when we hold space for our Jewish co-conspirators and be with them in their intergenerational grief.  

If that sounds generative to you, I’d love to begin by honoring the voice of a queer Palestinian writer and organizer, Rasha Abdulhadi by reading a portion of their poetry originally shared in the Movement Memos, A Truthout Podcast with Kelly Hayes. Quote…

“Genocides begun do not have to be completed.

The long genocide of the Palestinian people is both ongoing and *not* inevitable.

We can refuse it. We must.

Join me in refusing to aid or abet genocide.

This is what time it is on the clock of the world.

If you are afraid that rising fascism and supremacist violence could annihilate your community, now is the time to join your cause with Palestinian liberation.

Put yourself in the way.

We must refuse and resist in every way we can, with our every breath.

We must invent new ways.

Wherever you are, whatever sand you can throw on the gears of genocide, do it now. If it’s a handful, throw it. If it’s a fingernail full, scrape it out and throw.

Now is the time to turn toward rather than away from the friction in our lives, and to use that stubborn friction.

Conversations; protests of any size; boycott divestment and sanctions at work, school or places of worship; refusal of labor and strikes; blocking ports and weapons factories; conscientious objection; disobeying orders and deserting your post — anything you can reach. Ruin someone powerful’s afternoon.” End quote.

There’s no doubt that the time on the clock of the world, as the beloved Grace Lee Boggs would put it, is to end genocide and apartheid by joining protests and calling or emailing Congress and State representatives to demand a ceasefire. 

Sustained Organizing: Wisdom for Disability Justice

And to keep going, to stay in the struggle, and to show up in solidarity not in saviorism, we must exercise agility in this dance of advocacy and find our rhythm and pacing. We plug in and take action with our community when our emotional cup is somewhat filled. Then, we are agile enough to step back and unplug right before our cup is about to be dry. We do what we can to refill our cup. Then, we plug back into the community and take action again. 

I know it can feel unfathomable to pause, unplug, and refill our cup when the unimaginable is happening in Gaza…even though we cognitively know that when we keep pushing, pushing, and pushing past our capacities, our action is likely to be saviorism, not solidarity. 

While white supremacy, colonialism, capitalism, and patriarchy all conspire to sell us this myth where quote unquote “real” activism is doing it all, saving everybody, and leaving self-care for the weak, disability justice reminds us that our perseverance isn’t a measure of how committed we are to the struggle or liberation. This stance of being tough and stuffing our feelings down isn’t activism. It’s ableism. Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha, a queer disabled femme organizer and author of Care Work: Dreaming Disability Justice also urges us to interrogate labor, productivity, and production in the organizing space. While capitalism might have us believe that marching on the streets is a more legitimate form of activism, disability justice organizers have taught us that organizing rideshares to the march from your bed or babysitting so those who want to march can go do that or even amplifying Palestinian voices on social media are all legitimate. 

Patty Berne, a cofounder and executive director of Sins Invalid, shared one of 10 disability justice principles: sustainability. Quote “we pace ourselves, individually and collectively, to be sustained long term. We value the teachings of our lives and bodies. We understand that our embodied experience is a critical guide and reference pointing us toward justice and liberation.” End quote.

I believe that for us to keep fighting to end genocide and apartheid, we can use “our embodied experience or what’s going on in our bodies as a critical guide”- like Patty Berne wrote- to find the rhythm and pacing of our action. To say it differently, to not give in to burnout, apathy, and cynicism and to stay in the struggle in solidarity with our Palestinian, Jewish, Muslim, Sudanese, and Ukrainian comrades, we must honor our body’s capacities, be our own allies, and adjust our advocacy accordingly. I invite you to unapologetically check how full your cup is before taking action so that you can effectively take risks, center those who are most impacted by this colonial project, and model to your child what solidarity looks like. 

Finding Your Advocacy Rhythm & Pacing: Honoring Your Capacities

And here’s one way we can practice this agility. Let’s roll up our sleeves, gather our genius, catch a breath…let’s do this. 

The one-sentence summary of this invitation is this: When your advocacy goes from alert and anxious to alarmed and your feelings go from fright and fear to frantic, please pause, reset your nervous system, and refill your cup. With a fuller cup, you can go back to taking action with your community and moving within your capacity, boundaries, and dignity.

Okay that was two sentences, but you understand. 

The atrocities in Gaza might have you feeling alert as you’re researching information on the situation. As you learn more about how your tax dollars are funding this genocide, you’re still alert but that might just got revved up and you’re now anxious. You’re alert and anxious but you’re still present in your research and education. Then, maybe you begin seeing video clips and photos of dead human bodies, alert and anxious quickly got revved up some more and now you feel alarmed. In this state of alarm, your nervous system is sending you to your fight-flight-freeze-fix-people please stress response. Just like when your child is in a full meltdown, their emotion center comes online but their thinking brain goes offline according to Dan Siegel, a renowned psychiatrist and author. When your internal alarm goes off screaming internally “danger, danger, danger”, your thinking brain- the neocortex- goes offline too. You lose access to your adulting skills that help you gauge if you’re taking up too much space, that help you decide if the news is biased, or that help you decide on the next social justice-informed action to take. These adulting skills? Poof! Gone! This is why when alert and anxious become alarmed, we take responsibility to pause, reset the nervous system or turn off the internal alarm, come back to safety and turn the thinking brain back online. By pausing to refill our cup consciously, we’re not unintentionally centering our shame and terror and accidentally asking our Palestinian, Muslim, or Jewish co-conspirators to comfort us or educate us. 

And the ways your alert and anxious turn into alarmed can look different based on your body, your nervous system, your upbringing, and your intersecting social identities. Only you know when it’s time to put the phone down, pause, and refill your cup. 

Yet, it can be hard to gauge if you’re in alert or alarm. I have two patterns to share with you as you’re observing your reactivity. 

First, when you’re alert, you have the boost of energy you need to move through your guilt of “shoot, I know so little about what’s happening in Gaza and now I don’t even know what to do.” This boost of energy is helping you to do your research, sign up for a phone bank, and learn how to call your representatives to demand a ceasefire. But whenever this boost of energy spills over to become alarmed, your curiosity now becomes a fight response. You might feel irritated and explode at small things that you’re usually okay with. For example, instead of amplifying the voices of Palestinian and Jewish activists, you’re fighting with people in the comment section. 

The second pattern is when you’re alert, you have that boost of energy to move through the heaviness of grief and drive your co-conspirators to and from different protests on the streets. But whenever this boost of energy spills over to become alarmed, the heaviness that you were able to move through becomes helplessness and hopelessness which sends you into a flight response. You might feel “why bother? This is too big for me to address anyway.” And this helplessness and hopelessness might have you flee from action and disengage into self-soothing with food, alcohol, doom scrolling on social media, or shopping. These coping behaviors aren’t good or bad. No judgment here. But after checking out, numbing out, and disengaging, you might judge yourself for having the privilege to feel overwhelmed when lives are being lost. This shame can keep you stuck in a freeze response, unable to take the actions you were planning to. 

How do these patterns resonate with you?

For me, I was reading the list of names of those who were killed in Gaza as I was lighting a candle to honor them. I was in my alert state. But I began noticing that I was checking out and leaving my body about 2 minutes into reading this list. I had already shifted from alert to alarmed. In this alarmed state, I was numbing out in my flight stress response. Then, a memory of myself reading a list of names popped up. Every November my trans community and I observe Transgender Day of Remembrance and we honor each transgender and gender nonbinary life lost that year by reading their names out loud. Grief became heavier. Then, I heard my inner critics shaming me for a lack of strength to tough it out. Another inner critic chimed in: “Your tax dollars are funding this genocide and you’re in your feelings? Weak! Pathetic!” At this moment I knew I needed to put the phone down for a second. I rocked my body until I could find a moment of stillness within. I was slowly coming back to my body as I could smell the candle again and I could feel the warmth of the teacup I was holding. I knew I was back in alert. No longer alarmed, shut down, and frantic, my cup got refilled a bit and I was able to continue reading the names on that list again. 

When your advocacy goes from alert and anxious to alarmed and your feelings go from fright and fear to frantic, it’s a cue to unplug, refill your cup, and reset your nervous system. So that you’re feeling safe-enough and centered enough to plug back into your community and take action again. 

And when I say unplug and refill your cup, I’m not referring to taking a month-long yoga retreat in Bali. The somatic exercises in the previous episode are often completed within three breaths. If reconnecting with your body isn’t your jam, you might journal or meditate for five or 10 minutes. Whether it’s three breaths or 10 minutes, refilling your cup and recentering yourself is pretty much choose your own adventure. You can use self-affirmations, journaling, movements, or body-based practices. The most important part is checking in with yourself by asking “how do I know I’m settling into safety or feeling grounded again?”

This might mean your shoulders dropped a bit, your jaw isn’t clenched anymore, you can take a fuller breath, your gaze is softer instead of fixed. The heaviness of the world is still there but you might feel safe-ish, grounded-ish, and present-ish. The thoughts that were racing slowed down. These are often your body’s ways of telling you that your cup is a little fuller and you’re back in your bandwidth…a place that’s generative for reconnecting with your child, yourself, and taking action with your co-conspirators.

As a parent and caregiver surviving under white, colonial, capitalist patriarchy, you might not even be able to take three breaths, let alone 5 minutes to journal. As my comrade and amazing friend Ashia Ray of Raising Luminaries often says, “your child is crawling up on your nose.” I’ll leave a link to her TikTok in the show notes for you. Ashia is echoing how hard it can be for parents like you to even find a pocket of time to check in with your body and your feelings. 

So unplugging to refill your cup and recenter can look like doing chores whether that’s sweeping the floor, scrubbing the counter, mixing that salad, or moving wet laundry to the dryer. After these chores, I invite you to check in with your body to see if it’s a bit more grounded and centered.

Another option is to unplug and refill your cup by reconnecting with your pets, plants, partners, ancestors, or your child. Connecting with those you love and nurturing relationships that are within your control when the world is on fire can be very stabilizing and grounding. 

If you’d like to experiment with this invitation with your child, perhaps pick a 10-minute pocket or one daily routine today where it feels easeful to set your to-do list aside and meet your child where they’re at. It can be a mealtime, playtime, or a low-demand routine. I invite you to discern if your child needs independence or connection from you in this 10-minute pocket. 

If they need independence, meeting them where they’re at means showing up with “I got you.”

That means conveying “I delight in your exploration and curiosity. I got you. Go explore. When you step too far, I’ll step in, set boundaries, and keep you safe.”

If your child needs connection, meeting them where they’re at means showing up with “I get you.”

That means conveying “Wow, I get it. This emotion is big. I’m here with you so you don’t have to be alone. I get it. Let’s move through this feeling together when you are ready.”

If this invitation sounds familiar, it’s because we covered it fully in Episode 37: Where do I start “meeting my child where they’re at”? I’ll leave the link in the show notes for you.

After this 10-minute intentional practice of powering-with with your child, I invite you to check in with yourself and your cup again. Alarm decreases its intensity and becomes alert. Frantic decreases its intensity and becomes fright. Your worries slow down and you can feel yourself getting curious, caring, and connected again. If you’d like to check in with your body, again, your shoulders might drop a bit, your jaw isn’t clenched anymore, you can take a fuller breath, your gaze is softer instead of fixed. 

Plugging Back In: Alternative Actions to End Genocide

Now that you’re recentered and grounded again with your cup a little fuller and ready for action. Let’s explore some of the alternatives to protesting in the streets. 

First, boycott and divest from companies and institutions that are funding or benefitting from war and the genocide of Palestinians. To learn more about which companies to not spend your money on, please check out bdsmovement.net which stands for Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions. BDS is a Palestinian-led movement that’s been challenging international support for Israeli apartheid since 2005. I’ll leave the link in the show notes so you can see a list of companies and institutions to boycott.

Second, make signs and banners and distribute them to those who are going to the protest. Your child can help decorate these banners too. 

Third, pack and distribute first aid kits and snack packs for those who are going to the protest. 

For a comprehensive list of actions, Resting Up Collective, an interdisciplinary group of chronically ill and disabled friends, has a Google Doc that lists actionable and educational resources for you to choose from.  

Making a Pre-Action Care Plan

Which of these actions feel doable given your capacities? If you were to pick one action this week, what would it be? 

Do you have your pick? 

If you’d like, please make a pre-action care plan for yourself, how might you refill your cup when you unplug before your cup goes dry? Would it be practicing body-based practices you like or some from the previous episode? Or, self-affirmations? Journaling? Reconnecting with your pets, plants, partners, ancestors, or your child? 

By having this plan in place, you won’t have to think, decide, and plan how to take care of yourself when your neocortex or thinking brain is already offline.

To stay in the struggles and to keep centering our Palestinian, Jewish, and Muslim comrades, we must mobilize in community and honor our bodies’ capacities. Then, adjust our advocacy accordingly. We can’t afford a burnout in this moment of injustice. 

And if your child is needing extra care from you because it’s the flu-allergy-RSV season plus Covid is still here, please pick an even smaller action for this week and adjust your rhythm and pacing accordingly. 

To recap, you and I have explored how to move with the urgency that this moment of injustice requires but in ways that won’t lead us to burnout, cynicism, and apathy. We begin by checking in with our bodily cues and feelings as we’re taking action. Whenever we’re no longer present, curious, and connected because we’re in the alarmed and frantic state, it’s a cue to pause, unplug, and refill your cup. Once you notice that you’re feeling present, curious, caring, and connected again, plug back in and explore some alternative actions to protesting on the streets. Sustained organizing is a dance and it’s so important that you find your rhythm and pacing. 

Because you know who else found her rhythm and pacing? Harriet Tubman. To close this episode, I’d love to share the words of Alexis Pauline Gumbs in Healing Justice Lineages book by Cara Page and Erica Woodland. Gumbs wrote quote: “Harriet Tubman was a neurodivergent leader who paused, slept, and received guidance during the freedom journeys she navigated while under direct white supremacist attack.” Gumbs continues “Remember, when Harriet Tubman stopped and went to sleep in the middle of the journey because her head trauma induced narcolepsy, everyone had to stop and wait and rest indefinitely. Maybe those unexpected pauses led to the eventual safe arrivals to come.” Gumbs asks “what do you think will happen if you take a breath? End quote.

My dear co-struggler, I’m with you, I’m with you, I’m with you. 

If your capacity allows after you’ve taken action to end this genocide, please consider nurturing this podcast by becoming a Patreon member, or leaving a rating and review, or sharing this episode with your loved ones. Please visit comebacktocare.com/support for more details. I’m deeply grateful and humbled that you’re here.

As always, in solidarity, grief, hope, rage, and sass…but never cynicism. Until next time, please take care.