Yes, and…
In April of 1963, Dr. Martin Luther King was jailed in Birmingham, Alabama, for violating a court injunction against civil rights demonstrations in that city. Just before his arrest, eight white members of the clergy had publicly called on him to stop the protests. In response, from his cell, King wrote what became the famous “Letter from a Birmingham Jail.”
In the letter, King laid out the conditions of racism in the city and the process of non-violent organizing that preceded decisions to act. Then, echoing his critics’ questions, he wrote, “Why direct action? Why sit ins, marches and so forth? Isn’t negotiation a better path?”
King responded, essentially, yes, and.
Negotiation would be a better path, King agreed, but the Birmingham white community had not been willing to engage. “Nonviolent direct action, “King wrote, “seeks to create such a crisis and foster such a tension that a community which has constantly refused to negotiate is forced to confront the issue. It seeks so to dramatize the issue that it can no longer be ignored.”
Decades later, I sat in a room with other change leaders learning with Peter Senge, who came to prominence as a systems change practitioner in the commerce sector, then applied his thinking to social change. After citing King’s arguments for tension, Senge pulled a rubber band from his pocket.
He held the band taut with both hands, one pulled toward the ceiling, the other toward the floor. Nodding to his lower hand, Senge spoke of the necessity to see and to “dramatize,” in King’s word, the current reality. Turning his attention to the hand holding the rubber band toward the ceiling, he argued for the importance of articulating a clear vision.
Senge writes, “What does tension seek? Resolution or release. There are only two possible ways for the tension to resolve itself: pull reality toward the vision – or pull the vision toward reality. Which occurs depends on whether we hold steady to the vision.”
Some of us here at the ILI have faced questions from friends and colleagues whose focus is on the current reality. They advocate for direct action to cause change now. They worry that the work of systemic change is too slow, echoing Dr. King’s cry to attend to “the fierce urgency of now.”
I rage and weep in the face of the current reality. I feel it’s a fierce urgency, have felt it, even long before these past several years of horrible, cynical change. I am, as I’ve often written here, sharply impatient for change. So I agree with them, yes.
And, as my friend and colleague Molly Baldwin, Founder and CEO of ROCA, Inc. often repeats, “you can’t get to a good place in a bad way, ever.” Direct action, including speech, in response to the current reality, has to align with a vision for the future. Otherwise, it risks worsening, justifying and continuing the mindsets and conditions that bred the current reality.
Others have noticed that the ILI website and programs don’t focus on the root causes of injustice. They ask about systemic racism, social supremacy, and histories of enslavement, genocide, and colonization, arguing that tenacious injustice will not let go without changing the mindsets and structures that drive it.
Yes, I actively grieve the horrific injustices of the past and their terrible echoes and impacts in the present. I see the systems and mindsets that offer thriving and life for some, and cruelly steal it from others.
And, as Mulago Foundation Director Kevin Starr argues, “To be useful, we have to find solutions that will work in spite of root cause… Many good ideas do an end-run around some root cause that isn’t going away.” I’d add, at least not fast enough.
Our work at the ILI is about the yes, and.
Our programs seek to change daily experience, so that people can thrive now where they work and learn, as exactly who they understand themselves to be. We ensure that our actions align with that vision.
We don’t ignore root causes; we see their stubbornness and drive change anyway, right now. At the same time, we catalyze change that will last over time, and lay ground in which new paradigms can grow.
In his letter to his clergy colleagues, Dr. King wrote, “I have earnestly worked and preached against violent tension, but there is a type of constructive nonviolent tension that is necessary for growth.”
I’ve tried holding a rubber band taut, top to bottom, as Peter Senge did. I encourage readers to try this if you haven’t already: If I stare at my lower hand long enough, my upper hand drops; the vision devolves to the current reality. If I stare at my upper hand, my lower hand begins to rise.
I’m willing to live in the complex, constructive, nonviolent tension required to tend to both.
Lucinda Garthwaite
Founder & Executive Director, ILI
PS. I am grateful to work in, and for, an organization that exists to provoke the creative tension required for change. I think we need more of that tension, as much action for now as for the future. We do both at the ILI. To the extent you’re able, in the midst of the myriad needs of the moment, I hope you’ll help us continue. It’s easy to donate here, or at the address below.