When Criticism Becomes Complacency

CV Vitolo-Haddad
7 min readAug 17, 2017

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Social media has placed activism in a holding pattern- we are still figuring out how to approach a suddenly infinite audience. Mastering a new medium happens in steps, and in just a short time we’ve become exceptional analysts of the every-day racism and sexism of advertising, political statements, and pop culture. But what happens when criticism becomes complacency? What happens when we fall back on criticism because it is easy, and we neglect the most pressing needs of social and economic justice? And if we’re honest, some of us see the power of criticism, but are afraid of getting criticized for venturing into the unfamiliar where we will make mistakes.

We attend protests, even as we point out their shortcomings, and we cheer when speakers or authors tell us that we must not just acknowledge white supremacy: we must do something about it. But for as many of us know this to be true, few have any idea about what that “something” we are supposed to be doing is. So, we continue to point out every moment of racism we see on social media, refusing to let the smallest instances slide. We refuse to let people find joy in the suffering of others, to make jokes out of injustice. We are killjoys, and that is powerful. But when we reduce the entirety of our activism to tearing down the problems and not rebuilding solutions in their place, we enter a dangerous cycle. We fixate on disenfranchisement as pain, turning all of anti-racism and feminism into a narrative of suffering. As a result, not only do we forget that life on the margins is vibrant in its own celebratory way, but we also find ourselves clinging to our own pain as the only remaining proof that we were wronged. If being marginalized means constantly suffering, then if we are not suffering, we fear we will lose the ground from which we advocate from. We have become all kill and no joy, and we know this is not enough. We must not only tear down those at the top, but also build up those at the bottom. And somewhere in there, we must practice the vision of justice we believe in.

After all, each of us has been very wrong, and fairly attacked for it. When we realized our error, having apologized, and actively demonstrated our repentance, we needed care and forgiveness- we needed our lovers and communities to lick our wounded egos and recharge us to fight another day — a smarter warrior for having gone through the process. This healing represents the restorative justice that we believe in- not punishing people for mistakes or lack of education, but genuinely improving ourselves, earning forgiveness, and in turn forgiving. This vision of justice allows us to move forward, having at least partially rectified the pain we caused because of our own imperfections. But when we become complacent in our ability to criticize, we forget to rebuild. That work is much harder and less familiar. And when we forget to rebuild, we lose sight of justice- we forget that the very conditions of poverty and racism foreclose participation in the academic vernacular and theoretical foundations that the sharpest critics have access to. Worse, we forget that the most marginalized lack access to spaces of forgiveness and compassion, with our corrupt, putative prison system filling in the space that restoration should occupy.

So, how do we keep criticizing each other while also moving forward? How do we ensure that everyone receives the spiritual and bodily nourishment they need to fight, because leaving some without an ability to self-advocate effectively is exactly why the voices of Black and queer folks are so often left out. Groups who disproportionately lack access to healthcare, food, shelter, or simply acceptance, community, and love, often find themselves without the time or energy to advocate for themselves, leading to movements that continually leave out the people they claim to be fighting for. We must ensure everyone is able to advocate for the world they want as forcefully as possible- that is what makes a movement strong. It is not a commitment to unity, it is a commitment to seeking out and destroying bulwarks of injustice and rebuilding new institutions in its place. And when this fight comes at a personal cost, we do our best to distribute the cost among those at the top, helping each other recover and move forward.

First, streamline your criticism. Prioritize the most important and local analysis. It is a thousand times less comfortable, but a million times more effective, to talk to a dear friend or family member than it is to confront a stranger in the comments section. Instead of being one of 50,000 tweets calling out a celebrity for doing another terrible thing, be one of 500 tweets to your school board officials, demanding that they act to address racial achievement gaps in your district. Build a relationship with the people who can most quickly enact change, and call on them to continue working with you. Create a community culture of local involvement in social and economic justice, and make it clear that your community does not tolerate the advancement of racism and sexism in any form. Accept that people who demonstrate change deserve support as they learn, but do not hesitate to criticize those who double-down on their toxic believes. Embed concrete recommendations, whenever possible, for how someone can improve.

To that end, read well-researched scholarship- start with the crowdsourced syllabi people have put together for educators and activists. This will help you be clear and precise in what you’re advocating for, which keeps the conversation focused on solutions. For example, if you post generically about your opposition to white supremacy, five people you forgot you were friends with will suddenly appear to remind you #AllLivesMatter. Suddenly, you’ve wasted 2 hours trying to convince them that racism is real. If you post instead, for example, that in the state of Wisconsin, 49% of Black children (and 11% of white children) live in poverty, and so we should expand free meals at schools to prevent child starvation deaths, that’s much harder to argue with. The conversation is much more likely to stay focused on practical questions like how to fund expanded meals, if expanded meals are the best way to address child hunger, and making sure that the food children would get is healthy. Help your well-meaning friends understand that we can simultaneously acknowledge that racism amplifies the impact of poverty, while still finding solutions that ultimately benefit everyone, because poverty is universally destructive. If they still oppose that, stop wasting your time. We have the numbers. We don’t need everyone on our side.

Second (and this is the important part!): Take the time you save by streamlining your criticism and use your gifts to build up neglected voices:

- If your gift is music, spend a few hours in your downtown area collecting donations for the local foodbank or for the homeless who live nearby. Money is always an efficient and necessary contribution.

- If your gift is healing, consider training as a street medic and carrying first-aid supplies to protests. Spend time with elders, especially those with medical needs who can’t afford in-home nursing.

- If your gift is nurturing, provide free child care at community events, or register as an emergency foster caregiver for the children of imprisoned Black parents.

- If your gift is teaching, set up clinics or tutoring services in impoverished neighborhoods.

- If your gift is writing, don’t just spin your wheels on social media. Write op-eds for your local paper, in addition to comments. Publicize your skills to underserved communities, where you can review resumes and edit cover letters.

- Call community centers and ask what they need. Build a relationship with local organizations you support and strategize with your friends to acquire the material support or physical labor requested.

- Stand up in person when someone is being harassed, don’t just share videos of other people doing it.

- Extend your circle of advocacy and care for each other. Make that comrade down the hall coffee and ask what kind of organizing they do. Network.

- Join and support unions. Progress for racial equality requires a strong labor movement.

- Go to public hearings with a planned, well-researched argument. Bring everyone you know, and write extra scripts for them to read. Don’t stand by while a new prison gets approved, or a shelter’s permit gets denied, or environmental regulations are relaxed. The law may not save us, but it sure as hell can screw us while we’re not looking.

- You have gifts. Use them to provide free services for others, and in exchange, seek out those who can provide what you need. We can only fight a legislative fight after we have already secured the needs of the communities we are fighting for — if you view someone as human, you don’t let them keep suffering while you run around collecting votes.

Finally, when you are not being heard — when you have armed yourself with research, implemented emergency measures to alleviate suffering in marginalized communities, and people in power still refuse to act — you get your community together and raise hell. You raise hell in the face of authority, in the face of politicians, in the face of police, and you don’t stop until someone starts listening.

It’s okay to be able to identify problems without knowing exactly how to solve them. In those moments, call on experts to take up your issue, be it politicians or scholars, and demand that they work with grassroots organizations. Then, just as we did with healthcare, you analyze and criticize every proposal until it achieves what your community needs. Reject anything short of that, even if it means you must debate a little more to find an acceptable compromise. In the meantime, continue to support those who you are fighting for materially, even at a personal cost.

Criticism is important, but it has become a form of complacency. As a result of criticizing small things, we have again been made small, just as we are always asked to be: on public transit, in the classroom, and in politics. It’s time to remember that while we attempt to battle racism at the level of every problematic song lyric, Black neighbors are dying of hunger, of police brutality, of problems you could be preventing. It’s time to be as big as these issues are, and to take up as much space as possible. This is how we move America forward.

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