On self-care and burnout
I’m going to get to the point: the entire design of our society and system is oppressive and exhausting. Capitalism demands more and more and more from us, and wants us to want more and more as well. Leaving us overburdened with debt, afraid of having enough to pay the bills, and never feeling good enough. And that’s if you’re more privileged. There’s also a whole host of other horrific stresses in the world due to racism, war, migration, and more. Nowadays though we’re sold this thinking that if you just pull yourself up by the bootstraps you can manifest your success. And if you’re feeling stressed you just need better “self care.”
No wonder people are feeling burned out. But it’s not like human existence was ever easy. Whether it was an oppressive husband, slavers, feudal overlord, famine, or the real threat of a violent “other,” life has been hard for most humans, for much of human existence.
And throughout human existence, people have always resisted their oppressors. Always. There’s beautiful, inspiring stories of resistance, often resulting in pretty terrible consequences for those that resisted. Some of the impetus for resistance is truly survival, for some, the promise of a better tomorrow, for others, a deep commitment to one’s values and worldview.
So why is it that in the present moment, in a lot of Global North activist spaces (especially predominantly white and privileged ones), there is a crisis of burnout? Where being an activist comes with a lot less risk than in many places in the world (and certainly, at this moment in history)?
What I’ve seen happen is that people express they’re burned out in a group space and it becomes a group problem. It’s problematized as a problem with the group dynamics. Urgency culture has specifically been named as a source of the problem. And more generally, “white supremacy culture,” which puts productivity ahead of relationships (for example).
I do think there’s truth to some of these claims, but I don’t think it’s the only cause of burnout and nor do I think that organizing and campaigning should be on hold for months, or even years, because people are feeling burned out. It’s a classic challenge with prefigurative political spaces, the desire to model the society we want and getting stuck when that is challenging.
I do think that activist organizing spaces, especially as they’ve become “professionalized” with a mix of paid staff and volunteers, can lead to transactional relationships between people. Does it feel good to be working together or does it feel like a second job? My experience has been that when I’ve been in all-volunteer spaces it’s felt better, like there was more camaraderie. And that started to shift when it became a job (for me) or when I was interacting with paid staff. I think can be overcome in staffed organization with more attention put into creating spaces for meaningful volunteer connection and engagement, and with staff seeing themselves as ecosystem facilitators and stewards of the movement instead of the core of the movement.
In activism, a lot of times there’s just too much to do and not enough time. That’s literally the nature of system change. You can do your best to plan, but there will always be something unexpected to respond to. It’s absolutely critical to assess if something is truly urgent; however, there will often be times when something needs to tended to, whether we have time for it or not.
In fact, sometimes urgency can be good and energizing. The problem is when running after something leaves a mess for someone to clean up (and it’s usually women who do this, anecdotally). That mess needs to be consensual.
Overall, I’m in favor of fighting against norms around valuing productivity and transactional relationships. Having activism rooted in spaces where real relationships can be built is key. How to do this is another topic, for another blog post.
But — I also think that people need to take responsibility for their own reactions and emotions. There is too much emotional dumping in activist spaces. And the irony is that it’s takes a whole bunch of emotional labor to hold all that.
Taking personal responsibility looks like really doing your own work to uncover your traumas, see your coping mechanisms, see how they’re not serving you, and shifting those patterns. It looks like therapy, meditation, dancing, energy work, journaling, etc. Healing can take many forms and they can keep evolving.
Most people have to learn real self-care. Society doesn’t really teach you this. It has commodified it.
Ultimately, it’s an individual’s responsibility to avoid burnout. If organizing/activism is more draining than fulfilling then it’s time for a break. Maybe some things need to change in the organization and one should speak up if you feel up to it. But also remember that systemic change, even in social change organizations, takes time. And demanding that a change be made because it’s important to your well-being is selfish.
I’ve dealt with my own burnout by:
- Remembering why I’m doing what I’m doing. What’s motivating me? Why do I care?
- Asking myself, if I’ve been feeling drained for a while, do I care any more or have my priorities changed? If so, then I know I need to make changes.
- Taking responsibility for how I’m showing up. This looks like naming when I’m low energy or dealing with tough stuff; it looks like meditating or doing some positive self-talk/journaling before showing up. Being mindful about my energy with other people is important.
- When I have seen systemic issues that seem to be behind the burnout, I ask to explore them in the spirit of making some changes.
There’s definitely systemic reasons for burnout. But there’s personal ones, and the personal ones have roots in the systemic. I’d like there to be more conversation about how to take responsibility for one’s own well-being in activist spaces. The more we can all commit to doing our own self-healing, and then support each other’s healing, the more cohesive and resilient we will be, and the more capable we will be in facing collective challenges.