You know how when you’re watching a movie from your childhood and it’s almost like the thrill is gone? You’re not nearly as impressed as you used to be and somehow the main character isn’t what they cracked up to be? I fear that may be the harshest of realities we have to face as we become older. We realise that things weren’t all they cracked up to be and we’ve lost touch.
That’s why I want to talk about activism. Like so many of you, I’m a child of the new age on the internet. Those 2014 tumblr aesthetic blogs came and went–being replaced by VSCO bots and now we have tiktok.. Something? Listen, I’m not entirely sure but somewhere between then and now the world has become aware of how their decisions can have lasting effects. What used to be simple words on the internet became reasons for a young girl to make a youtube with her story written on cards before taking her own life. Cause and effect.
But when does activism become slacktivism? I’m guilty of neither, I’m genuinely just a massive dumbass with a complex. I’m working on it, honest. But that also comes with the ability to not care as deeply. When it comes to injustice or topics that require hands and voice–I’m there with flags. But oftentimes I don’t rear my ugly head unless it’s desperately needed. I wish that some people could do the same. Choose your battles wisely and don’t overthink everything. Look, I solved the problem.
Oh also I met Rena Owen last week. I say met, but I got star struck in an elevator and then mumbled a few “I love you’s” on a stairwell. Some say cowardly, others say respectful. Full circle, because I know when it’s time to speak. We were at an important opening of The Pā and she was infusing her wairua and mana into the building, who am I to take away from that?
Stay safe this week and remember this important quote:
Here’s to love, here’s to honour. If you can’t cu…
Catch yous next time, Jak
