We go by many names. We’re known by many things. Many hats, jobs, titles, categories, identities. We are legion. We are many.
So many different words, with so many different meanings. Wide and varied. Political affiliations and religious leanings. Parties, groups, clubs, associations, and gatherings. Our language and descriptions are dense with coalitions, and my vocabulary isn't what it used to be.
My words often betray me. Over and over I reach out for just the right designation and I am constantly found wanting. I don’t know what it’s called when people unite for a higher purpose. Or, what it’s called when individuals join together to make some part of the world better in some way. To make some corner of it more open, more inclusive, more beautiful, more welcoming.
"We know how the slide into tyranny and fear takes place, how people fall into a nightmare," Rebecca Solnitt says. We know it because we can see it unfolding everyday. It’s so familiar it’s almost unnoticeable. "[B]ut how do they wake up from it,” Solnitt asks, “how does the slow climb back into freedom and confidence transpire?" What do you call it when it happens? What title do you give to the people that help to shepherd it into existence?
I don't know what the proper appellative is to give them, or how to tag or denominate what they do. But I know that when I make things, they're the ones I'm directing my efforts and energies to.
I make things for people who believe in making things. People who believe that by making things we make our ourselves in to better people. People who believe that by making things that make us into better people we can make the world a better place for us all to live in.
I don’t know if there’s a name for that, I don't know what to call it, but I think it sounds like hope to me.
May you always be found within a community that fosters care and acceptance.
May you ever believe that making things can amend everything.
May you be named by your ability to give hope back to the world.
In case no one’s told you today, I love you with all my everything.
I don’t think there’s ever been a perfect word for the people who create with hope at the center, but you’ve captured the spirit of it here. Maybe the point isn’t to find a label, but to keep building, connecting, and offering that hope—quietly, steadily, even when language fails. Thank you for reminding us that making things is itself an act of courage and community. Here’s to being part of that group, whatever we’re called.
Beautiful. I have to say, the collages pull me away from the text. They’re simply so rich. :)