May and the pull of protest
May has long been a month when people step outside and speak up. Across history, people have used May to protest for labour rights, peace, racial justice, affordable housing, green space protection and dignity. Perhaps that is why Old Activism, an illustrated poem by Creative Bubbles By The Randoms, has been on my mind lately.
The poem explores the space between courage and exhaustion. Activism can be brave, public and collective, but it can also wear people down. It takes energy to raise your voice, especially when doing so leaves you feeling exposed. There is always a risk that people who dislike scrutiny will try to reduce you to a nasty label. There is also comfort in finding others who care about the same things.
Old Activism identifies that tension between resistance and retreat, difference and safety, conviction and weariness, at least that is my interpretation.
The courage and cost of speaking up
That tension has felt very close to home recently. In April, I joined a local resident in organising a community walk in my area as part of the Community Planning Alliance national day of action for nature, parks and green spaces. It was a local walk with a wider message. People care about fields, paths, trees, wildlife corridors and the green spaces woven into everyday life. They care about what gets built, what gets lost, and who gets heard when decisions are being made. Our peaceful walk unfortunately attracted some less than nice comments along the lines of how useless it was and that the only viable route was through official council channels. I disagree!
I also helped an action group connected with Carrington Moss and its fight to save its green spaces by creating a video for them. More recently, I supported another local resident by designing a large poster with the slogan ‘Hands off our Green Belt’.
These may sound insignificant in themselves, but they are all part of something larger. Local action often depends on people doing the practical tasks around the visible moments. Someone writes the post, designs the poster, checks the claim, shares the video, turns up to the walk, or asks the question at the point when it would be easier to leave it alone.
When protest comes close to home
In early May, I helped deliver local election leaflets for a candidate and certainly got my steps in over many days. Around the same time, I spent time challenging what I regarded as unacceptable claims made by local councillors. I felt the claims were incorrect and misleading. The evidence base was a withdrawn Government factsheet and in my opinion blamed a very specific demographic for being the main driver of the housing shortage. The backlash came in blog form earlier this week, and it was unsurprising.
Along with others who dared to speak up, we were publicly described as toxic, haters and liars. Earlier in the year, we were also described as displaying signs of the Dark Triad, a term associated with narcissism, Machiavellianism and psychopathy. That is an extraordinary way for elected representatives to frame ordinary residents asking questions and calling out misinformation.
Language like that has an effect and can make people feel very exposed, singled out and wary of speaking up again – in hindsight that was probably the aim – shut down any further comment. It also recasts scrutiny as malice, disagreement as abuse, and legitimate challenge as personal hostility. The result is that people asking questions are treated and cast as the problem, rather than the claims and conduct being questioned.
For a moment you ask yourself how much energy you have left for the sneering, snubs, distortion and name calling. You wonder why fair questions about local claims, planning, public communication and elected representatives so often become an excuse for them to exhibit the very behaviour they projected onto you.
Why I will keep asking questions
If residents are expected to trust local councillors, then they should expect and be open to scrutiny (nothing tp hide). Public office comes with responsibility and a commitment to upholding the Nolan Principles. Public communication should also be accurate, fair, two-way and capable of being questioned.
Being called names doesn’t make me less concerned about poor or inaccurate information, weak arguments or elected representatives who expect their words to pass without challenge. It makes my resolve stronger.
That is part of local democracy. People should be able to ask questions, challenge claims and voice objections without being painted as poisonous for doing so. Scrutiny should never be treated as an act of hostility simply because it is uncomfortable.
Hedgehogs, green spaces and everyday activism
I have also been active this month in calling for housing developers to include hedgehog highways in their fencing and I reached out to Manchester United Football Club to ask them to join the Hedgehog Friendly Football League, a conservation initiative run by the British Hedgehog Preservation Society to help protect local wildlife.
The idea is simple and practical. Football clubs can use their visibility to raise awareness, create safer habitats, support green spaces, and help make grounds maintenance more hedgehog aware.
That may sound like a softer form of activism, but it comes from the same place. Small creatures need routes through our gardens. Local wildlife needs practical protection. Green spaces need people who are prepared to keep fighting for their preservation, asking awkward questions, and pushing for the right homes in the right places.
Finding my way back to Old Activism
This is where I come back to Old Activism. The poem, in my understanding, portrays the emotional cost of caring. It explores how tiring it can feel to be the person who questions, objects, writes, designs, researches, challenges and tries again. It also recognises why people continue, even after criticism has bruised them.
I am also drawn to the part of protest that is less visible. you can see the signs and slogans and the marches and campaigns leave a public trace. Beneath that sits the more private experience, the tiredness, the endless research to ensure you’re not on the wrong track, and the stubbornness that keeps a person going for the greater good.
For me, that is where art and poetry become useful. They bring the hidden part of protest into view. They help me understand why I keep going, even when speaking up becomes tiring, uncomfortable or unpleasant.
Read the poem, explore the musing, support the work
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FINAL THOUGHS & COVER ART
Before I close, a word about this post’s artwork. I painted Herbie The Hedgehog freewheeling through the countryside to capture something wonderfully simple, the freedom to move safely through open green places. For hedgehogs, that freedom is precious. They need connected gardens, hedgerows, fields and wildlife corridors so they can forage, roam, nest and find mates. When fences, roads and development cut through their routes, that small everyday freedom disappears. Protecting green spaces, asking for hedgehog highways and thinking properly about wildlife in planning decisions gives creatures like Herbie a fighting chance, and reminds us that the countryside is alive with lives smaller than our own.
Rebecca Art 