Writing for Civic Engagement; Where Purpose Meets Passion.
Writing is the most powerful form of communication. Nothing exists quite like it, for no other form of communication has its unique composition. Art may last as long or touch as many people as the written word, but art foregoes transparency for symbolism, which makes misinterpreting the author’s intended message too easy. Speaking may be the most efficient and practical form of communication, but uttered words float away like the wind. Writing, it seems, is the zenith of timeless, clearly transmittable expression.
Writers write with a purpose in mind. Sometimes that purpose is self-interested, like clearing one’s mind. Other times, it is for bringing about change and making a difference. When one’s purpose involves change it also involves an audience. Writing for change is daunting, for it bridges the gap between words and action. The realization that a well-written piece can inspire thousands of individuals will empower any writer. It should also burden the writer; a responsibility accompanies writing for change.
Civic engagement describes a process to catalyze change in one’s environment through political, social, or economic action. Anyone can be civically engaged, but many will choose, unbeknownst to him or her, to not partake, for the first step in civic engagement is choosing to take the first step. While an individual does not need to consciously enunciate, “I’m becoming civically engaged,” he or she will only become civically engaged by taking conscious action. And every civically engaged individual will take the same first step. This is the one and only criterion for becoming civically engaged, for once that first, conscious step is taken every succeeding step will be uniquely dependent to each individuals journey. One’s purpose may be simple and small, such as helping houseless people through volunteering and donating. Often times, it may have a larger impact on a community and require a collective effort from a group of dedicated people. Purpose connects a group, large or small, and these connections create a climate where caring emerges, and then maybe even...concern. Together the group can see that change—anything—might be possible, and that leads to hope. When there is hope, it seems people are willing to invest their time and effort. And when there is concern, there is caring beyond oneself. And, that seems where the desire for a better society for all may develop.
These connections foster openness for change, allowing individuals to understand that necessary steps, from many, must be taken to achieving their goal. Only when an individual is attracted to a purpose, cares enough to want to learn more, concerned over more than what could be seen through idle eyes, can they become part of something bigger than themselves...connected. Part of change.
Writers write with a purpose in mind. Sometimes that purpose is self-interested, like clearing one’s mind. Other times, it is for bringing about change and making a difference. When one’s purpose involves change it also involves an audience. Writing for change is daunting, for it bridges the gap between words and action. The realization that a well-written piece can inspire thousands of individuals will empower any writer. It should also burden the writer; a responsibility accompanies writing for change.
Civic engagement describes a process to catalyze change in one’s environment through political, social, or economic action. Anyone can be civically engaged, but many will choose, unbeknownst to him or her, to not partake, for the first step in civic engagement is choosing to take the first step. While an individual does not need to consciously enunciate, “I’m becoming civically engaged,” he or she will only become civically engaged by taking conscious action. And every civically engaged individual will take the same first step. This is the one and only criterion for becoming civically engaged, for once that first, conscious step is taken every succeeding step will be uniquely dependent to each individuals journey. One’s purpose may be simple and small, such as helping houseless people through volunteering and donating. Often times, it may have a larger impact on a community and require a collective effort from a group of dedicated people. Purpose connects a group, large or small, and these connections create a climate where caring emerges, and then maybe even...concern. Together the group can see that change—anything—might be possible, and that leads to hope. When there is hope, it seems people are willing to invest their time and effort. And when there is concern, there is caring beyond oneself. And, that seems where the desire for a better society for all may develop.
These connections foster openness for change, allowing individuals to understand that necessary steps, from many, must be taken to achieving their goal. Only when an individual is attracted to a purpose, cares enough to want to learn more, concerned over more than what could be seen through idle eyes, can they become part of something bigger than themselves...connected. Part of change.
Sitting with Shari Sanders, a Comp. Lit PhD Candidate at UCSB
Shari Sanders always needs to go the other way. Asking herself, “how can I screw up these expectations;” what’s the worst thing that could possibly happen is more than a critical thinking exercise, it puts Shari’s mind at ease. Failure, fear of not meeting expectations, these don’t make writing easy or fun, so Shari says screw it. Writing without fear is an adventure. Doing what’s expected seems to make for a boring ending anyway.
Civic engagement is the same. Even the phrase, Shari says, is rich with expectations. A generic image comes to mine when one thinks of civic engagement or activism. “Protesting, marching or chanting is effective engagement for change, but there is a set of rules we expect out of it.” If we’ve see something that looks like something we’ve seen before, our mind seems to shut down. Repetition and expectations seem to go hand in hand. The old has no magic, for the same reason people like watching reruns to fall asleep—they know what’s going to happen, and they’re not going to miss something new. They let their mind fill in the blanks.
As a trauma and genocide comparative literature PhD candidate, Shari has extensive knowledge of group behavior, and how they can change people’s expectations. “During genocide, there’s always a campaign before the genocide to dehumanize the group they’re trying to eradicate.” These oppressors manipulate people’s thoughts at their source, in people’s imaginations, and once the majority thinks of that group as insects, then everything after that is a follow through action. It’s at this point in the mind where I try to write, “Where is the story about rage and anger, not love. Those little notes of hope and engagement, I try to pull those to the front.” In doing so, Shari strives to achieve two things in her writing: having input in the stories people are imagining; and trying to improve those stories, generally with other people. Shari establishes hope in her writing so that others can have hope. The disenfranchised are not permanently down and out. Hope is the first necessary trait for improvement.
Shari’s piece, published on medium.com, about the Isla Vista tragedy last May speaks of hope and community. Equipped with her unique background, Shari may have been the most qualified, prepared and positive individual to capture the terrors of that weekend and the following days.
“I was trying to capture the moment…catch what happened, so that a year down the line, when we look around and see what happened, it would be documented.”
When Shari learned about the events, as they unfolded, she promptly left her house to go where she was needed—wherever she was needed. Writing the piece was incredibly difficult for her, but Shari felt a responsibility. “I was the only person positioned as a I was, watching it the way I was…I was exhausted, filled with anxiety, but I didn’t want that second to be lost.”
Beginning in the student resource building, Shari started helping in anyway she could, comforting others and sharing the burden of stress and unknowingness. As day turned to night, Shari found herself amidst a small group of IV community members, trying to make sense of the tragedy and how recovery could begin. A memorial was decided, and it would take place that evening in Storke Tower Plaza. This memorial was for Isla Vista.
Shari’s piece compares the IV memorial to the UC one. The IV memorial was pure in a way the UC one could never be, which isn’t an attempt to belittle the UC one, but rather to demonstrate the power of pure community in the face of fear. The IV memorial was an effective release of anxiety, talking to others, coming together in the face of adversity and insanity was, and is, therapeutic. Everyone deserves to be heard, truly heard, and in doing so, the one expressing his or herself feels validated and understood. In this case, writing didn’t make her feel better, but it was her duty. Isla Vista needed to be witnessed, and Shari was the medium.
Documenting that horrific weekend, from incident to the almost eerie return to normality in the ensuing days, wasn’t for Shari. It was for the people who will undoubtedly come back to that day, in a month, a year or a decade. The words live on because of Shari. Amidst the hectic events that transpired, so anyone who wants to know about the emotional turmoil of that day can.
Civic engagement is the same. Even the phrase, Shari says, is rich with expectations. A generic image comes to mine when one thinks of civic engagement or activism. “Protesting, marching or chanting is effective engagement for change, but there is a set of rules we expect out of it.” If we’ve see something that looks like something we’ve seen before, our mind seems to shut down. Repetition and expectations seem to go hand in hand. The old has no magic, for the same reason people like watching reruns to fall asleep—they know what’s going to happen, and they’re not going to miss something new. They let their mind fill in the blanks.
As a trauma and genocide comparative literature PhD candidate, Shari has extensive knowledge of group behavior, and how they can change people’s expectations. “During genocide, there’s always a campaign before the genocide to dehumanize the group they’re trying to eradicate.” These oppressors manipulate people’s thoughts at their source, in people’s imaginations, and once the majority thinks of that group as insects, then everything after that is a follow through action. It’s at this point in the mind where I try to write, “Where is the story about rage and anger, not love. Those little notes of hope and engagement, I try to pull those to the front.” In doing so, Shari strives to achieve two things in her writing: having input in the stories people are imagining; and trying to improve those stories, generally with other people. Shari establishes hope in her writing so that others can have hope. The disenfranchised are not permanently down and out. Hope is the first necessary trait for improvement.
Shari’s piece, published on medium.com, about the Isla Vista tragedy last May speaks of hope and community. Equipped with her unique background, Shari may have been the most qualified, prepared and positive individual to capture the terrors of that weekend and the following days.
“I was trying to capture the moment…catch what happened, so that a year down the line, when we look around and see what happened, it would be documented.”
When Shari learned about the events, as they unfolded, she promptly left her house to go where she was needed—wherever she was needed. Writing the piece was incredibly difficult for her, but Shari felt a responsibility. “I was the only person positioned as a I was, watching it the way I was…I was exhausted, filled with anxiety, but I didn’t want that second to be lost.”
Beginning in the student resource building, Shari started helping in anyway she could, comforting others and sharing the burden of stress and unknowingness. As day turned to night, Shari found herself amidst a small group of IV community members, trying to make sense of the tragedy and how recovery could begin. A memorial was decided, and it would take place that evening in Storke Tower Plaza. This memorial was for Isla Vista.
Shari’s piece compares the IV memorial to the UC one. The IV memorial was pure in a way the UC one could never be, which isn’t an attempt to belittle the UC one, but rather to demonstrate the power of pure community in the face of fear. The IV memorial was an effective release of anxiety, talking to others, coming together in the face of adversity and insanity was, and is, therapeutic. Everyone deserves to be heard, truly heard, and in doing so, the one expressing his or herself feels validated and understood. In this case, writing didn’t make her feel better, but it was her duty. Isla Vista needed to be witnessed, and Shari was the medium.
Documenting that horrific weekend, from incident to the almost eerie return to normality in the ensuing days, wasn’t for Shari. It was for the people who will undoubtedly come back to that day, in a month, a year or a decade. The words live on because of Shari. Amidst the hectic events that transpired, so anyone who wants to know about the emotional turmoil of that day can.