why don't I feel aligned with leftists?

I’m looking at my politics with curiosity, and a little bit of "what the fuck."

I’m a leftist. I advocate for prison abolition, engage in mutual aid, believe in the possibilities of a socialist future with thriving Black people, a free Palestine, and more. I put those beliefs into action often (though not always consistently). I came into leftist politics, not by reading books by dead white men in Europe, but because I wanted better for myself, my family, my neighbors, and my community. it often feels like I give ten thousand fucks about everything. and so, I try. I run my give-a-fuck factory at all hours of the day because I want to see freedom for all people from the overwhelming and dire system of capitalism and colonialism that harms us!! to me, that aligns with the foundational politics of leftism, and makes me a leftist.

and yet, lately, I’m struggling to feel like I’m in alignment with leftists, online and offline. and honestly, the only reason I’m aware of this misalignment is because I started paying attention to how my body felt when I engaged with folks or watched how others engaged with each other. in the past year alone, I’ve had multiple people with “peace and light” email signatures force my stomach into knots with the ways they utilize identity and ideology just to enact the same old white supremacy you see elsewhere. my nervous system has been wrecked by people who saw our shared politics as a parasocial opportunity to critique me with no care, empathy, or understanding. I’ve watched as people turned against each other for perceived slights even though our shared causes have so little capacity for individual egos. I’ve broken down to my friends more times than I can count because mentally, I’m with these folks! logically, we’re on the same damn team! but in practice?? woof. I feel lost. frustrated. and really, really depressed.

while trying to name my confusion, I got slapped with the realization that I was neck deep in perpetuating the very bullshit that now had me glancing over at the exits. I wanted community, safety, and change, so how did I end up spending years looking around angrily at my peers who felt the same as me? how did we end up with so many people feeling unsafe (physically, emotionally, communally)? why does so much of the current culture revolve around debating amongst ourselves what colors to paint the living room, when most folks don’t even have the fucking tools to begin building the house!

the plot feels lost! like what the fuck is going on with leftists!

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a detour, if I may:

I grew up going to an evangelical, Christian church (origin lore, maybe we’ll get into it one day). the older I get, the more comfortable I am saying that it bordered on cult…a controlling, hierarchical establishment with a sprinkle of arbitrary rules and regulations, and a dash of “we will not keep our relationships to you if you leave.” that’s like…cult-adjacent right? I mean, they did eventually allow instruments during worship…and I think women might finally be able to speak at the pulpit without a man standing next to them? not sure. you’d have to puppeteer my lifeless body to get me anywhere near that church so I have no idea what belief soup they’re concocting these days.

anyway, by the time I was 21 and planning my leave, I had been deeply indoctrinated into a world of shame, guilt, and fear…but also, passion. I loved feeling my heart race whenever leaders would begin to raise their voices and gesticulate with glowing authority. I loved a forceful “AMEN!” from the congregation when they heard something they resonated with. the practice of passion made our beliefs feel elevated and righteous. there was an underlying current that we—our methods, our church, our rules—could not be wrong with so much passion within us.

follow me here.

I’m 31 now, but I spent the majority of my 20s quickly replacing my passion for evangelicalism with a passion for human rights and social justice. I rapidly shifted left, and more left, and left again. I switched my “when jesus comes,” for “when the revolution comes” (more on my thoughts on The Revolution another time). but I’m only now realizing that a lot stayed the same…namely, my relationship to shame, guilt, and fear. and it stayed the same because the leftist communities I had begun to enmesh myself in were twinning with my evangelical church.

what’s more attractive to a 20-something ex-vangelical than yet another community of people with passionate, black-and-white beliefs on what is wrong and right, largely based upon dead men’s limited ideas of freedom, with liturgical chants and opportunities to believe you’re better than other people because you know the right way to exist and everyone else is ignorant or your enemy?

…Y’ALL. clearly, I was very aligned with the current leftist culture, until recently, because it aligned with my upbringing. it aligned with how I was taught to fear imperfection, to see the world through good and bad, saviors and enemies. but something in me has shifted…I’m not sure what. maybe I’m just fucking exhausted. maybe I don’t want to wait until the raptu- uh, revolution, to enjoy my life and my loves. maybe I want to care about humans without feeling like I have to do it perfectly, whatever that means, and without caring what people who’ve never done the brave thing of trying, think.

there’s so much pressure within leftist spaces and communities to never, ever engage in life in ways that might contradict. your politics must remain pristine. your joy should not overlap with the atrocities of the world and, if it does, god forbid you share it. there’s only one right way to trek down the yellow brick road to socialism, or communism, or anarchy (houses to paint with what fucking tools?). be perfectly versed and opinionated or be punished, ideally publicly, through tools such as shame and rejection.

and I wonder how much of this is because leftists in Blue states (myself included) have the privilege of rarely interacting outside of what is aligned with them, or are simply compartmentalizing any misalignment, doubt, or confusion they feel.

I’ve spent the last 10 years seeing people’s efforts for change become the cross they’re nailed to because of this rigid, strict behavior. as a somewhat-visible local figure, I’ve held onto the anxiety wondering when it’ll be my turn. am I projecting? am I everything that I hate about leftism in the United States? maybe! I can think of times I threw the first stone—all the while knowing I was afraid someone would find a reason to throw one at me. I’m embarrassed and sad just thinking about it.

are there others who see this too? who saw themselves perpetuating this and are now sitting with how to engage differently?

I don’t know what my future as a leftist looks like. despite it all, I know I’m always going to be a leftist. I despise capitalism and don’t see a future where my freedom as a Black, queer woman exists freely within it (and not just because the planet is going to incinerate us if we don’t destroy corporate power). but I think that whatever this is…this ain’t it. I don’t want to contribute to it anymore. I want to engage in activism that holds the appropriate amount of urgency without defaulting to the very behaviors that threatened to destroy me as a child. behaviors that are currently wrecking so many leftist spaces from the inside out.

I want to be morally and ethically solid, while still having a soft heart and the courage to allow myself to be imperfect. I want to have more passion for breaking down systems than I’ve seen us have for bringing down individuals. I’m tired. and there’s fucking work to do.

with heart,
dionne

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here are some books I’ve read (and tiktoks I watched) that brought about this week’s “what I don’t know”:

• “Parable of the Sower” and “Parable of the Talents” by Octavia E. Butler

• “Loving Corrections” by adrienne maree brown

• “Sister Outsider” by Audre Lorde

• “Leftist Culture and Christian Fundamentalism Part 1” by erinraii

• “Leftist Culture and Christian Fundamentalism Part 2” by erinraii

here are some books I want to read to help me know more:

• “Black Liturgies” by Cole Arthur Riley

• “Abolition: Politics, Practices, Promises, Vol. 1” by Angela Y. Davis

• “Let This Radicalize You: Organizing and the Revolution of Reciprocal Care” by Mariame Kaba and Kelly Hayes