Wandering Into Humanity

My parents worked way too much when I was growing up, but we would still find time to get in the car for the whimsy of a used record shop, flea market, thrift store, and yard sale. The first thing I remember buying for myself, with my own money, was SEAL (1994) on CD at Repo Records. I was 11 years old, and I couldn’t fathom how someone could part with their Seal CD, but I was grateful they had. My favorite song, “Kiss from a Rose” never sounded so good through the stereo in my room, and I was no longer relegated to glimpses of it on the radio. It was mine to hear, on demand, and I played the hell out of it. 

I found myself in adulthood working for charitable organizations with thrift stores as a main source of revenue. All over again, I was mesmerized by the way people’s used stuff could fuel missions of social change, and connect people to their identities on new levels and in unforeseen ways. I credit the space to wander aisles full of treasures in my formative years with building the skills that would make me good at marketing these institutions. I grew up loving them and wanted everyone to know how great second-hand stores are as well as the organizations they support. 

Fast forward to now, and I’m in a local Buy Nothing group on Facebook, fueled by a movement (full of people who likely have significant spare time) to reduce waste. These habits and a sense of belief have grown up in me over time and continue to evolve. While the access I had growing up was far from perfect, the cultural space for even slivers of hobbying may be evaporating completely for future generations. Spare time shapes our humanity.

All the causes–housing affordability, education, climate, global instability–that we’re working on as change professionals matter tremendously, but the undercurrent of this high-pressure reality is that we’ll all get shittier at our jobs if we give in to being pushed off the margin–even off the page, and completely out of touch with the things that makes this planet worth our fight. The wear and tear is already showing. Gen-Z is more dissatisfied with their jobs, exhibiting less spiritual belief, and their anxiety and loneliness levels are spiking. Working smarter and pumping more “purpose” into 50-60-70-80 hour work weeks won’t stem this tide. We have to collaborate across race, gender, religion, and other divides to reclaim ourselves from even the machinery of meaningful labor. The capitalist machine wins when we’re too overworked–even when that work is resistance–to wander and dream.

As we fight to keep the social gains we have from obliteration, I am challenging us to take it a step further: we must wander with the same spirit of defiance we fight with. We must preserve wandering space for future generations. 

If this sort of thing resonates with you, you should pick up a couple of my favorite books: Rest as Resistance by Tricia Hersey and Pleasure Activism by adrienne marie brown.