The Significance of "Insignificant" Actions

Scale can be the activist’s greatest enemy. Problems we work to solve, wrongs that we seek to right, and systems of oppression we constantly try to undermine often prove to be so daunting in our minds that we are crushed by an overwhelming sense of despair. In this drive to address large scale—and even global—issues, we tend to overlook the smaller gestures. We devalue day to day actions as insignificant, as unimportant. I want to challenge this idea that, to be significant or to make a difference, we have to be acting on the biggest, most challenging issues.

We don’t have to be “virtue celebrities,” as Danusha Veronica Gosha describes in her piece Political Paralysis. We can exercise our power, and thus make a difference, in ways as seemingly inconsequential as driving someone to or from the market, or sharing a meal with them. It’s time we recognize the importance of “small” actions, because, together, these small actions can change the world. And even if they don’t, I would argue that there is as much value in improving another person’s day as there is in efforts in reducing global greenhouse gas emissions. A simple “hello” to a stranger on the street constitutes action, in my opinion. Fostering respect and care for everyone we encounter creates a sense of community and camaraderie. Building a network of shared esteem and trust is the best way I can think of to “make a difference” or incite change.

We ought to stop basing the value of our actions on whether or not we’re successfully solving the greatest concerns in the history of humankind. I want to challenge the hopelessness of mainstream dialogue on environmental issues. Yes, I’ll admit the situation is undeniably dire. But if we use that as an excuse to do nothing, then the conclusion of our story is written for us (apologies for the clichéd metaphor).

Do little things for each other. Eventually, the little things will add up to bigger things. Recognize these actions performed by the people around you. Vocalize appreciation. Prioritize validation. Through these “small” acts we can achieve great results.

Why Do We Do Good Things? Environmental Studies & Disaster Utopias

Over the past week, we were assigned to read the prelude and chapter one from Rebecca Solnit’s Paradise Built in Hell, her article on “Acts of Hope,” and selections from Paul Rogat Loeb’s The Impossible Will Take a Little While. In this post, I will be directly discussing Solnit’s book.  Let me first start off by saying that many Environmental Studies students struggle in this program. Not necessarily because we spend hours reading text books and preparing for exams (which we do), but we struggle because of the uncomfortable, daunting, and exhausting truths we learn about the world. Students in this program go through personal struggles – whether we are realizing our own privilege or acknowledging all the “wrong” things that we have done in the past…We admit, it’s hard. It’s hard because each injustice is impossible to dissect, as each injustice unveils layer after layer of problems, and it’s hard because we have to critically analyze what it is to “do good.” I mean com’on– how hard would you take it if you found out your activism has been doing more harm than good these past five years? It’s pretty dark stuff.

As environmental studies students, we go through times where we feel powerless, weak, and often misguided by all the bad things surrounding us. Many students in this major often say “we need a therapy session” just to deal with all this gloom and doom talk. We admit, it's a roller coaster to say the least. But then, a glimmer of light shines through – and that is where our capstone course comes in. Ah, Hope. Something that seems so foreign to us in this major. Yet many environmental studies students preparing to graduate (including myself) are still left with lingering questions. One particular question that arose this past week was: why do people do good things without the need to be recognized? Let me try to answer this. 

I loved Solnit’s concept of disaster utopias. Many people believe that during a catastrophe or a time of crisis, we become something horrible. We steal, we are selfish, hysterical, and vicious human beings. The media feeds this type of delusional view of society to us. In reality, that is far from what happens. In a disaster, Solnit describes how people step up and perform beautiful acts. There is kindness, compassion, and ordinary people embracing their neighbors and community, doing everything in their power to do good things. These acts can be something so small to something grand – the point is, a utopia appears in a time of crisis. Many people would appreciate and embrace this type of response, maybe even hoping one day to be a part of something as beautiful as a disaster utopia. But maybe we (as environmental studies students) are already a part of this. Many people will find my idea radical, but I believe our major is a disaster utopia. Think about it – we are taught for three years that we are in a ‘time of crisis.’ We are faced with the gloom and doom as we witness the globe panicking over climate change. We see many forms of injustice: racism, sexism, classism, and the list continues. So maybe our program is a long, slow version of Solnit’s disaster utopia. But where is the utopia part? The utopia is all around us, even in our classroom. We do great things to help others. We do good - just because! Yes, our major is overwhelming and dark, yet my classmates are the kindest and most compassionate people I know. They do not look to be crowned or glorified – instead, they are humble. Is it because we realize we are in this global crisis? Could this be our very own disaster utopia? Possibly. It’s a radical idea, but one worth thinking about.