Under a bridge, into a telephone pole, onto the rings of a tree stump. Last fall, with care and precision, Gabby Eisma took a set of metal die stamps, and pounded poetry into outdoor spaces, letter by letter. Gabby invited local poets into her project, prompting us with the words, “regarding ground”, or “Re: Ground”. When we responded, she painstakingly stamped each poem into a fitting, earthy home. My small poem sits quietly in the frame of a garden bed, speculating about spring. It’s tucked away, faded, and might never be found.
Art is often curated for an audience. The “Re: Ground” poetry project suggests that audience engagement doesn’t affirm the art’s worth. In this case, the act of curating itself was the art. Gabby’s choices concerning medium, location, and collaboration, made her project a full masterpiece beyond a collection of poems.
It’s hard for me to imagine a more visceral form of listening. She didn’t just read our poems; she made room for our thoughts in a unique, lasting way. Gabby’s actions are a physical example of the meaningful response de-centered voices have been seeking through social justice movements. Don’t just listen. Make room.
Clumsy, inauthentic attempts at inclusion have been pounced on and ripped to shreds. How do you have a consistent, genuine response to social justice issues while facing fatigue and rejection? Burnout tempts us to choose apathy. Especially when we want to advocate for people with radically different life experiences.
One thing we never burn out on is the gentle and consistent act of curation. We never stop choosing what gets our time and space. Some things are predisposed to intentionality like creative publications, art galleries, or social media feeds. Subtle types of curation exist as well. In personal lives, people curate their own libraries, preferred brands of food, favorite restaurants, wardrobes, hobbies, etc. Organizations and industries curate when they select curriculums, freelance agencies, brands for retail spaces, musical talent, photographers—even the coffee roasters represented in a local coffee shop. Curating is art; an intentional, daily rhythm. Because it is an established practice, it’s a great starting point for experiencing the voices, thoughts, dreams, expertise, & input of the excluded.
The action of uplifting voices is a game changer because it clearly communicates to people. If you’re burnt out on social justice, and not sure how sustainable impact is possible, know this. Natural curation of our daily lives can be powerful activism and advocacy. Here are three things your actions tell people when you uplift their voices.
Art is often curated for an audience. The “Re: Ground” poetry project suggests that audience engagement doesn’t affirm the art’s worth. In this case, the act of curating itself was the art. Gabby’s choices concerning medium, location, and collaboration, made her project a full masterpiece beyond a collection of poems.
It’s hard for me to imagine a more visceral form of listening. She didn’t just read our poems; she made room for our thoughts in a unique, lasting way. Gabby’s actions are a physical example of the meaningful response de-centered voices have been seeking through social justice movements. Don’t just listen. Make room.
Clumsy, inauthentic attempts at inclusion have been pounced on and ripped to shreds. How do you have a consistent, genuine response to social justice issues while facing fatigue and rejection? Burnout tempts us to choose apathy. Especially when we want to advocate for people with radically different life experiences.
One thing we never burn out on is the gentle and consistent act of curation. We never stop choosing what gets our time and space. Some things are predisposed to intentionality like creative publications, art galleries, or social media feeds. Subtle types of curation exist as well. In personal lives, people curate their own libraries, preferred brands of food, favorite restaurants, wardrobes, hobbies, etc. Organizations and industries curate when they select curriculums, freelance agencies, brands for retail spaces, musical talent, photographers—even the coffee roasters represented in a local coffee shop. Curating is art; an intentional, daily rhythm. Because it is an established practice, it’s a great starting point for experiencing the voices, thoughts, dreams, expertise, & input of the excluded.
The action of uplifting voices is a game changer because it clearly communicates to people. If you’re burnt out on social justice, and not sure how sustainable impact is possible, know this. Natural curation of our daily lives can be powerful activism and advocacy. Here are three things your actions tell people when you uplift their voices.
"A thing is curated when we tell a story about it." | Your story is valuable. Daisy Alioto wrote an enchanting piece called “What is Lifestyle?” discussing how stories give objects deeper meaning. Alioto writes, “A thing is created when we ascribe meaning to it. It is consumed when we assign a value to it. It is curated when we tell a story about it”. Worth is affirmed when people are included in processes of storytelling. Heartside Ministry, a center for those experiencing homelessness in downtown Grand Rapids, offers an art studio for the neighbors’ use. The walls are brimming with their creativity. On my first day serving in the art gallery, the first thing people showed me about themselves was their art pieces. Heartside isn’t simply a momentary refuge, because neighbors are invited into creating the story and experience of Heartside. |
You belong in this space. It’s meaningful to be in a space created with your contributions (not just your presence) in mind. Small triggers can be strong affirmations of belonging. Once, a moody, abstract self-portrait of mine was featured in Dialogue. After it was distributed around campus, I received an email from a black staff member. She shared that the expressions on Dialogue’s publication made her feel seen as a black woman on a campus which didn’t often reflect her likeness. You never know what visual image—whether it’s a pin on a backpack, a sticker on a mug, or a cover on a publication, will remind someone that their presence and story is welcome. | "You never know what visual...will remind someone that their presence & story is welcome." |
"If you're exhausted fighting for positive change in your community, you're not alone." | You help move our community forward. This is specifically relevant when an organization uplifts voices from de-centered viewpoints. It’s not just an obligatory nod to a different point of view--it’s trusting people to represent an establishment. This past summer, Grand Rapids businesses gracefully entrusted local artists to paint beautiful murals over windows broken in a riot. COVID-19 intensified economic uncertainty, yet local businesses relinquished more control by offering their storefronts to the black community. Known as the Windows GR project, its creative momentum continues and has inspired new collaborations. |
If you’re exhausted fighting for positive change in your community, you’re not alone. Start with what comes naturally. What hobbies are you eager to make time for? What interests always energize you? Then ask, how are your passions experienced from different cultural, ethnic, and socio-economic contexts? Let curiosity lead to new, insightful relationships.
It’s beautiful to experience outlets for sharing and receiving personal expression. Dialogue is an outlet embedded into the culture of Calvin University. Gabby’s thoughtful mission to mark Grand Rapids with our poetry reminds me that each of us can provide those outlets. Stewardship of each other’s vulnerability is a daunting and humbling task because it takes courage to encounter other ideas. Our stories can affirm, challenge, or convict. But they won’t leave an imprint on individuals or communities until we make space for them. Let's create. Let’s curate. Let’s uplift each other’s voices.
It’s beautiful to experience outlets for sharing and receiving personal expression. Dialogue is an outlet embedded into the culture of Calvin University. Gabby’s thoughtful mission to mark Grand Rapids with our poetry reminds me that each of us can provide those outlets. Stewardship of each other’s vulnerability is a daunting and humbling task because it takes courage to encounter other ideas. Our stories can affirm, challenge, or convict. But they won’t leave an imprint on individuals or communities until we make space for them. Let's create. Let’s curate. Let’s uplift each other’s voices.
Further reading: |
Olivia Mason
Staff Member