July/August
2001
Keeping
Your Eye on the Prize
By
Bruce Friedrich
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I
have only been active in social justice causes full-time for about 12
years, so it’s a bit humbling to be reflecting on avoiding burnout.
Who knows: perhaps next week, I’ll throw up my hands and go to
work at the Lexus dealer around the corner. That said, I feel no closer
to burnout than I did 12 years ago, so I humor myself with the idea
that I’m doing something right.
I have a feeling that others who reflect on this issue will focus on
keeping a sense of humor, taking time for yourself, not letting your
anger overwhelm you, not letting petty internecine disputes upset you
or take you over (my biggest concern about the animal movement—how
is it that any of us can find the time to attack other animal rights
people or groups?), and so on. All of this strikes me as very good advice.
Surely, we all know people whose anger overwhelmed them—anger at
others in the movement, at the injustices and apathy in society, or
whatever, and whose flame burned out after just a few years. The clearest
and saddest example that I know of is peace and homelessness advocate
Mitch Snyder, whose words and life have influenced me more than perhaps
anyone else. Unfortunately, Mitch’s Jeremiah-like anger at injustice
took itself out on both the powers of violence and other activists,
often with equal force and little sense of perspective; Mitch’s
passion overwhelmed him to such a degree that he took his own life in
1990, and we are all worse-off for his loss. So, I do take this seriously—the
need to keep a sense of perspective and not overwhelm oneself with the
magnitude of the injustice.
But when I think about the need to avoid burnout, I think about my friends
who have been focusing on long-term battles for social justice for much
longer than I have, and I think about the traits that seem (to me) to
get them through. I think of my friends in the peace movement who have
been going strong since the 1960s-Philip Berrigan and Liz McAlister,
Jim and Shelly Douglass, Tom Lewis. In the animal movement, I think
without question of Ingrid Newkirk, who works harder than anyone I've
ever met, in any movement. It's humbling to even reflect on the lives
of these people, all of whom could be much more successful, from a worldly
perspective, but who have put money, self, ego, and so on, aside to
focus their lives on making the world a better place.
What is it that characterizes the lives of these amazing people? I may
have it entirely wrong, of course, but what I see as the central theme
based on my time with each of them, is that these remarkable people
“keep their eyes on the prize” (to quote that civil rights
anthem). It is difficult to spend even five minutes with any of them
without recognizing that they have a steadfast focus on the long-term
struggle. What seems to characterize those who have kept at it for many
years is a sense of purpose, an understanding that whatever minor pitfalls
may befall us on the way, the suffering of those victimized by imperialism
and the animals victimized by the industries of exploitation makes any
sorrows we experience seem minor by comparison. I suppose it’s
almost tautological to say that those who leave the movement have taken
their eyes off the prize. But perhaps it’s also accurate to suggest
that perhaps they were never really focused on the long-term struggle
to begin with.
About a year ago, a very dear friend of mine—Art—lost his
brother to a cruel attack behind the soup kitchen in Hartford, Connecticut
where he worked as a volunteer. Art has been active in peace and justice
work, living in voluntary poverty, running soup kitchens and shelters
and going to jail for nonviolent civil disobedience, since the mid-1970s.
I still see him, carrying the torch of nonviolence, whenever I attend
any peace and justice events. If anyone has an excuse to drop out of
activism, get a “real” job, and return to the world of acquisition
and self-absorption, it’s Art. Yet he continues. He remembers that
there is a battle for justice going on, and that every person is crucial
in the struggle.
I am reading Peter Singer’s Writings on an Ethical Life (HarperCollins
2000) right now. In his essay, “Famine, Affluence, and Morality,”
Singer argues that what we do not absolutely need belongs to the less
fortunate: “People do not feel in any way ashamed or guilty about
spending money on new clothes or a new car instead of giving it to famine
relief. (Indeed, the alternative does not occur to them.) This way of
looking at the matter cannot be justified…We ought to give the
money away, and it is wrong not to do so.” Those schooled in the
social justice tenets of Judaism and Christianity will recognize this
argument as an extrapolation of the dictum to “Do unto others,
as you would have them do unto you;” and Jesus’ directive
to: “Go, sell all that you have, and give to the poor.” St.
Thomas Aquinas, quoted by Singer, puts it this way: “The bread
which you [do not eat] belongs to the hungry; the clothing [in your
closet], to the naked; and the money you [put in the bank] is the redemption
and freedom of the penniless.”
To put this in terms of animals, if you were an animal in a slaughterhouse,
or in a leghold trap, or a circus, would you understand someone who
spends money on unnecessary things, rather than giving to an animal
group; or the person who goes to the movies or watches television, rather
than passing out leaflets or writing letters to alleviate your plight?
The people I have met who have been most successful in not burning out
are the people who have kept their focus securely on the suffering of
those for whom they’re fighting, and who have not wallowed in self-pity,
no matter how much opportunity was given them. Do they have a sense
of humor? Yes, absolutely. Do they understand the value and importance
of celebrations, parties, and “pick-me-ups”? Again, yes. Do
they occasionally take time to rejuvenate? Well, somewhat, yes, though
the suffering and lack of “time off” granted the animals,
the starving, and so on, are never far from their consciousness.
When something upsets me—a nasty email from another activist about
some perceived slight, a personal problem that has me losing sleep,
some new injustice, to animals or people, that seems to defy comprehension—I
try to see this through the eyes of the victims and to remember the
words of labor organizer Joe Hill who said, “Don’t mourn!
Organize!”
In conclusion, I don’t want to appear the killjoy. People who know
me know that I enjoy parties, enjoy jokes, have a life (well, sort of)
outside of activism, and am a kind person who can empathize with people
who see the world through a different lens than the one I use. I’m
not clueless about human nature: I know that nurture, relationships,
escape (in the form of movies, dinner out, new shoes), etc., are required
to keep us from going crazy or “burning out;” throwing up
our hands and saying, “It’s just too hard.” But I think
that as many people leave movements because they aren’t passionate
enough as leave because they’re too passionate. I think as many
people leave from boredom as from burnout. And I think that a clear
vision of the blessedness of our own situation necessitates that we
fight even harder, right to the point of burnout, but without burning
out.
To paraphrase Mitch Snyder, “The animals, the starving, the oppressed—they
never get a break, a vacation, or time alone.” So we shouldn’t
work ourselves so hard that we become bitter and disenchanted; we should
take time to ourselves (recognizing that this is time away from advocacy);
we shouldn’t waste any of our time attacking other people who are
doing something to make the world a better place (since most people
aren’t); and we should try to seem as “normal” as possible,
so as to not alienate people whose actions we are trying to change,
but in our heart of hearts, what I think is most likely to see us through
is a focus on the level of suffering—the level of evil—that
we’re fighting against. We need to keep our eyes on the prize—human,
animal, and earth liberation.
Bruce Friedrich is Vegan Campaign Coordinator for People for
the Ethical Treatment of Animals.
