Hope Is a Verb |
While justice remains a motivator, modern political upheavals have triggered more visceral emotional drivers.
Resistance 2.0 describes the new tactics and perspectives that drive changemakers and activists.
Storytelling disrupts a nothing-can-change narrative, returning agency and humanizing the community.
I have been meaning to get back to this blog because there is so much to talk about. But, every time I’ve sat down to write, I could only think, This world is on fire; what can I possibly say to temper the flames? For the first time since I became an activist (my first protest against inequality and for diversity was when I was 13), I felt overwhelmed with a political dissonance that was mirrored by many others around me. It’s not surprising, considering the human rights crisis of mass deportations and unchecked power of ICE agents; the dismantling of diversity, equity, and inclusion programs; and every threat to the planet due to the withdrawal of the United States from global climate accords—just to name a few highlights of the first year of Trump’s administration.
It is easy to succumb to this feeling of overwhelm in the face of fear and uncertainty. Activist filmmaker, therapist, and professor, Rafael Angulo shares, “I learned from a client regarding activism that it is our obligation to look at the dark but never stare at it. Once we stare at darkness, we become guilty bystanders to evil and systematic pathologies that our bodies and minds are either triggered by or become helpless. Community is our balm to look at darkness together.” With a reminder of the importance of community, the work of activists and change makers takes on even greater meaning, especially when there are so many direct threats against the communities they are part of, care about, or work with.
Activists and changemakers move toward confrontational approaches
Instead of falling into the trap of learned helplessness, today's changemakers are doubling down. Dr. Dana Fisher calls this shift “Resistance 2.0”—a movement that is significantly more confrontational than the tactics seen a decade ago. Fisher’s research, surveying thousands who’ve participated in some of the largest protests in American history, found that more people participated in nonviolent civil disobedience (e.g., blocking streets; following, recording, or observing federal agents like ICE; participating in general strikes and walkouts) and 79 percent support social movements that are taking a more confrontational approach.
Moving beyond legislative solutions is in keeping with the very shifts in what researchers and practitioners attribute as psychological drivers for change. Systems change, justice, and empowerment remain core motivators, but researchers Peak and McGarty (2024) found that the current political climate has created more visceral reasons that are motivating people to push for change, including moral outrage, partisan animosity, collective identity, and trait victimhood, which is when individuals psychologically feel like their group’s existence is under threat. Trait victimhood is significant because it constructs activism or changemaking as a defensive act rather than a choice. In other words, we have to act or else…
Hope as a cognitive behavioral practice
Whatever is motivating people to get involved and work together for change, another big psychological shift is the role of hope in social movements, where “hope” as a concept is now “hope” as an action. This type of cognitive behavioral practice is an important reframing of both the why and the how changemakers and activists remain committed to their cause (Rand and Roger, 2023). An example of hope as an action is in the practice of “radical hope,” which gives changemakers the opportunity to imagine “alternative futures” or ways of doing things. For example, when federal troops are deployed, local communities respond by building their own support systems for victims. They focus on where they can support, which fosters empowerment in the face of vulnerability.
Community care is self-care
In addition to hope, activists and changemakers have been incorporating various aspects of well-being and community care into their practices. Rather than focusing on “self-care” like personal time-outs, meditation or exercise, more and more, communities are focusing on care activities like mutual aid (sharing of resources) to create community safety nets, resilience sprints (intense activity followed by structured rest and recovery), pod mapping, and community events centered around practices of yoga, self defense, and coming to the table to share a meal together. Well-being, then, is being broadened to the well-being of the community and what makes communities stronger.
Tell me a story why change matters
In this ecosystem of radical hope, storytelling has become a necessary tool for disruption—not only to disrupt the dominant political narrative of the current administration, which is literally “There is no way you can fight back,” but also to disrupt the brain’s natural inclination under a barrage of propaganda to believe things are unchangeable. Storytelling breaks those mental loops by returning agency to changemakers to reframe the narrative and own the space through counter storytelling that highlights how communities are coming together in collective action and not cowering in fear. Storytelling also triggers “temporal stretching,” a psychological state that helps connect immediate struggles to longer social movements and historical significance. This is especially true in storytelling that echoes ancestral narratives and real-time testimonials, which humanizes the abstract and elicits empathy (Han, McKenna, and Oyakawa, 2021).
It’s in this space that I find the most inspiration—in the stories that people are sharing and living. These stories speak truth to power and remind all of us why it’s important to keep fighting. So, this year, I’m going back to the original “ordinary magic” that we, as people and as communities, always have—each other and our stories—to highlight how people are making sense, making do, and making change in these challenging times.
Ordinary magic in action
Spend time with your community: Reconnect with your roots and remember why you wanted to create change in the first place. This might mean attending a community celebration, an action, or even a neighborhood meet-up. It doesn’t have to be formal or big, just enough to re-ground you in your why.
“Talk story” as our Hawaiian brothers and sisters tell us. Talking story is a way to build 'ohana (family) and preserve mo'olelo (history and heritage). To do so, you must slow down, gather people together, and engage in conversation in ways that allow you to share, listen, and receive.
Have a somatic debrief. This is the opposite of talking. Instead of talking, groups get together to regulate their nervous systems, particularly after a stressful event. This is done through collective deep breathing, rhythmic procession like drum circles, or shaking out the body (i.e., dancing) to release the cortisol.
Han, Hahrie, McKenna, Elizabeth and Oyakawa, Michelle. Prisms of the People: Power & Organizing in Twenty-First-Century America, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2021.
Dana R Fisher. Resistance to Trump 2.0 is getting more confrontational. The Guardian. February 1, 2026.
Kaba, M. (2021). We do this' til we free us: Abolitionist organizing and transforming justice (Vol. 1). Haymarket books.
Peak, R. M., & McGarty, C. (2025). HOPEFUL: Helping Others Promotes Engagement and Fulfillment. European Review of Social Psychology, 36(1), 71–114. https://doi.org/10.1080/10463283.2024.2368393
Rand, K. L., & Rogers, S. K. (2023). Cognitive models of hope. Current Opinion in Psychology, 49, Article 101510. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.copsyc.2022.101510
Polletta, F., & Amenta, E. (2025). Changing minds: Social movements’ cultural impacts. Russell Sage Foundation.