HOPE IS GOOD TROUBLE

“Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.”
—Archbishop Desmond Tutu

I AM NOT A POLLYANNA

No one has ever accused me of being an extreme optimist.

Realist? Yes.

Sardonic? Definitely.

Sarcastic with a dark sense of humor? Absofuckinglutely.

If you don’t laugh, you’ll cry. Am I right?

I lean dark because I feel things deeply. People matter to me. This world matters to me.

And sometimes loving the world makes living in it fucking hard.

When the world feels divided, cruel, unjust, and controlled by people with power, money, and—let’s just say it—white penises, I sometimes crawl into my cave.

I lick my wounds.

I read romance novels. Watch Netflix shows where everything works out. Search for happy endings.

I need reminders that darkness isn't the whole story.

I need hope.

MAYBE I'VE BEEN IN THE HOPE BUSINESS ALL ALONG

When I was fourteen, my friends at Valhalla High School called me “the psychologist.”

They came to me about boys, friendships, parents, and life.

Did I have vast experience in any of these things?

Hell no.

But I knew how to listen. I noticed people. I could often see something in them that they couldn't yet see in themselves.

Maybe that came from growing up hypervigilant as the caretaker, watcher, and fixer.

But somewhere along the way, that survival skill became something else.

I learned how to remind people of what's possible.

At a party, a woman named Mary asked what I did for a living. I told her I'd spent more than thirty years at UC San Diego, earned my PhD at 52, and then started consulting and building LOUDER GIRL.

She stopped me.

“You were 52?”

“Yep.”

She told me she was 45 and had always wanted to go back for her EdD, but she had a young son and a husband and...

“Do it,” I said. “There’s never going to be the ‘right’ time.”

Mary has one year left before she graduates.

At Trader Joe’s, a young employee apologized for being “in my way” while she was working.

I told her:

“Stop apologizing. You deserve to be here.”

One aisle later, I heard her telling another employee what I'd said.

That's how hope works. It ripples.

SOMETIMES HOPE SOUNDS LIKE “JUST DO IT”

Over the years, I've “adopted” some of Molly, Kelly, and Jack's friends. Some called me Mama Mich. Another one, Mrs. Martin (you know who you are).

I didn't give a rat's ass about their grades, whether they were the best volleyball player, got the lead in the play, became class president, or disappointed somebody else's expectations.

I wanted them to know:

You don't have to earn your worth.

And long before Nike made “Just Do It” famous, I had my own version:

Quit the job.

Move to New Zealand.

Take the painting class.

Learn the violin.

Tell your boss, “I don't have time right now.”

Write the children's book.

Take the fucking nap.

Tell the truth.

Ask for help.

Stop apologizing.

Begin again.

THIS IS WHY I DO THIS WORK

Why am I telling you all of this?

Because underneath the blogs, newsletters, research, stories, LOUDER GIRL, Good Trouble, and Ignited Leadership is something much simpler:

I want you to have hope.

Hope that you aren't finished.

Hope that another chapter is possible.

Hope that you can stop living by stories someone else handed you.

Hope that you can find your voice, trust yourself, gather your people, and use your life to create something better.

That's why I created LOUDER GIRL.

It's why I've spent these past weeks writing about Good Troublemakers.  The women, people, groups, and organizations who show us that another way of living and leading is possible.

Because when we see someone else doing it, something inside us whispers:

Maybe I can, too.

GO WHERE PEOPLE GIVE A SHIT

One of the best ways to find hope is to stop looking for it alone.

Find people doing something they care about.

Your people probably aren't sitting around wearing name tags that say:

Hi, I'm looking for meaningful friendships and purpose, too.

They're hiking.

Writing.

Building houses.

Registering voters.

Walking dogs.

Planting gardens.

Reading books.

Mentoring girls.

Feeding people.

Making art.

Go where people are doing something you give a shit about.

Here are three places to start.

1. FIND WOMEN CAUSING GOOD TROUBLE

Look for organizations built around women's voices, growth, service, advocacy, and leadership.

Woman Within helps women explore their authentic stories, voices, and inner wisdom through programs and community. Interested? Contact Cindy Christianson at 805-284-1922 or [email protected] 

Soroptimist International brings women together to improve the lives of women and girls, particularly through education and economic empowerment.

And there are countless local women's groups doing the same thing in their own communities.

Don't just ask, “Do I fit in here?”

Ask:

“Do I feel more like myself when I'm here?”

2. VOLUNTEER FOR SOMETHING YOU CARE ABOUT

Hunger?

Animals?

Women?

Kids?

Books?

Housing?

Older adults?

The environment?

Start there.

Organizations like Idealist, AmeriCorps, AARP Create the Good, Feeding America, and Habitat for Humanity can connect you with opportunities across the country.

Good Trouble Tip: Look for something recurring instead of a one-time event.

Because belonging isn’t usually created in an afternoon.

It's created when we keep showing up.

3. WRITE. CREATE. TELL STORIES.

Find an independent writing center. Take an art class. Join a storytelling group. Check your public library's calendar.

Organizations like the Grandmother Collective, Authors Guild regional chapters, and 826 National Youth Writing create opportunities to connect through words, stories, creativity, and service.

And don't overlook the communities created by the Good Troublemakers we've already met.

Christine Reed's Outdoorsy Women+ Book Club brings women together through outdoor adventure memoirs.

Stella Fosse's Crone Hub connects women with organizations working to improve the lives of older women.

Your people are out there.

Sometimes finding them starts with knocking on the door and then walking through it when it's opened.

GOOD TROUBLE WAS ONLY THE BEGINNING

All month, we've talked about people and organizations causing Good Trouble.

We've looked outward and asked:

Who's challenging the old stories?

Who's creating something more humane?

Who's showing us another way?

In September, we're turning that question inward.

Because Good Trouble needs leaders.

Not leaders with corner offices, fancy titles, enormous platforms, or permission from somebody above them.

Ignited Leaders.

Women who know their stories.

Listen to their bodies.

Lead from their whole selves.

Choose courage over comfort.

Practice power-with instead of power-over.

And understand that we rise in circles, not ladders.

That's where we're going next.

I WANT TO BE A BEACON

I can't fix everything that's wrong with this world.

Neither can you.

But I can refuse to surrender to the darkness.

I can be a beacon.

I can tell stories that remind another woman she isn't alone. I can point toward people doing beautiful, courageous work. I can tell a 45-year-old woman to get the damn doctorate. I can remind a young woman at Trader Joe's that she deserves to take up space.

And I can keep creating LOUDER GIRL and Ignited Leadership.

Because here's the thing I didn't fully understand when I started this work:

Trying to give other women hope gives me hope, too.

It gives me purpose.

It reminds me that our voices matter. Our stories matter. Our small acts matter.

None of us has to light the whole damn world.

We just have to light the space we're standing in.

And then maybe someone else sees our light and lights hers.

And another.

And another.

That's how Good Trouble spreads.

That's how leadership ignites.

And that's how we find our way through the dark.