"Maybe I am too far gone to hope anymore. But, for solace, there may still be hope."
Ashley, F. (2024). Palliative activism, or Fighting for justice without hope. In Ashley, F. (Ed.), Gender/Fucking: The Pleasures and Politics of Living in a Gendered Body. https://medium.com/@florence.ashley/palliative-activism-or-fighting-for-justice-without-hope-bb8196047baf
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"How do you live in a world that can never be repaired? How do you resist when you are too exhausted to dream of a future? Far too often have I daydreamed of giving up, of fleeing to the forest, to live in a small cabin of pine and cypress hidden in the depths of a valley."
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"Not long ago, I began to play with an idea in my head. What if I conceived of activism as a palliative endeavor, rather than one guided by a utopic end? In palliative care, living past illness is no longer the goal. [...] Its goal is to ease pains, like a balm after the sun; to cultivate comfort and love among the suffering."
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"Love one another — because the world sure fucking won’t. Palliative activism is a joyful or, at least, content pessimism. Maybe even an optimistic fatalism. Or fatalistic optimism — I don’t know what words mean anymore. If we are doomed to suffer, maybe we can ensure that there will be love among the suffering."
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"An outgrowth of my hopelessness, in palliative activism I would give up my hopes for revolution and justice, replacing them with comfort in the now-and-then. [...] its demands are not in the hopes of crafting one day a just future but to reduce the pain and injustices that so many carry unto the end of days."
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"If you are still capable of hope, then hope — I envy you. But I must figure out how to go on when weariness cuts you bare. No, I don’t want to give up on systemic change, nor turn away from justice — I want to hold and cradle them in my arms, warm them, hold them close to my heart — but I know this won’t do anymore. Not without faith. But perhaps I can hold onto them if I approach with a mind toward harm reduction rather than a teleological attitude that besets me with unkindness."
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"To reduce suffering and hold each other in kindness and care is still an activism."
"And besides, you and I both know that there is no fun in kissing up to the powers that be. Their asses aren’t that soft. Pleasure lies in the fight. May the bridges we burn offer warmth and comfort [...]."
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"My palliative activism is a bittersweet response to the cruel optimism of revolution. It cultivates the ephemeral bubbles of love and community. It invites us to surrender to the love and care we can foster. It holds space for being wrong, for being flawed, for redemption. I have been unforgiving of imperfection, though negligible its harms can sometimes be, for want of revolution. ...
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... But the revolution is not at stake; I am no longer able to dream of perfection. How about we cut ourselves and each other some slack? How about we refuse to let idealism get in the way of our present needs, present loves, present communities? We are not disposable."
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