Writing About Activism Without Doxxing Your Friends

This moment calls for us to write about what we believe in. We should allow ourselves to be moved to action—and to write about it with the appropriate respect. An essay—or piece of memoir—about activism requires a lot of care. 

(10 Rules for Writing Opinion Pieces.)

First of all, this is not journalism. We are not ethically bound to present all of the facts neutrally. We are sharing our perspective and story. Which gives us a lot more creative freedom, but creates a new set of conundra to take into account.

I’ve been a climate justice and human rights activist for more than 20 years. Here’s some of what I think about when I write about my activism.

Consider the statute of limitations: legally and emotionally.

Activism can be traumatizing. If we are participating in any kind of activism, it is because we care. And that caring can leave us emotionally vulnerable to being traumatized by our activism. And for everyone—but particularly for historically marginalized folks—the physical trauma of police brutality is very real. There can also be serious repercussions for our activism, both legally and otherwise.

Before anything else, I make sure that I’ve processed the experience emotionally and that there are few legal risks (pending charges, etc.) involved in the incidents about which I’m choosing to write. When I train activists’ in their legal rights in a protest, I always tell folks not to talk about the action until everyone is out of jail and all the charges have been dropped. The same goes for my creative work.

Center the issue, instead of yourself.

Although there’s often a lot of material to mine, in terms of personal experience, I try to keep the framing on the issues instead of just on me. To the extent that I insert myself into the story, I try to make sure my essays address why the issue matters to me personally. Because if it isn’t clear why I care, they likely won’t care either.

Another guideline I use is that I don’t offer commentary on others’ actions. I might reference others’ activism, for the sake of context or history, but I’m not editorializing on the strategy or effectiveness of others’ movements. There is nothing to be gained from my armchair quarterbacking.

Make the issue clear.

Writing about activism is an opportunity to amplify the issues that mean a lot to me. In my writing about political issues, the part that I spend the most time on—especially in revision—is making sure that I am as succinctly and accurately communicating the message of my group and our demands.

Writing about a protest isn’t actually very interesting unless the reader fully understands the stakes involved in the action and why the people on the page might be taking the risks they are.

I never want to sensationalize my activism. I’m not doing this for kicks, and I don’t take the risks lightly. And although I sometimes have a bit of a dark sense of humor about things, it’s not actually funny to be tear-gassed. Instead of focusing on the more sensational elements of a protest (the arrests, the disruptive elements, any destruction that might take place), I want to always be placing the original issue at the center of the frame.

Acknowledge your privilege.

Be honest about your proximity to an issue and how your activism might be interpreted based on systemic factors. Are you white? A native English speaker? Cis-gender? Whether you think it’s fair or not, you will be classified in a whole host of ways. Acknowledging this won’t undermine your credibility, but offers important context about where you’re standing in your relationship to an issue.

When in doubt, pass the mic to someone better suited to speak on an issue or, at the very least, be transparent about your relationship to an issue or movement—and how you are treated (generally) by systems of power. Refrain from making generalizations that may only be true for you, as a person of privilege.

With a growing catalog of instructional writing videos available instantly, we have writing instruction on everything from improving your craft to getting published and finding an audience. New videos are added every month!

Weigh your privacy.

Privacy is important to me, which might seem odd for a memoirist and essayist. When I write about my activism, I’m always thinking about ways to protect the privacy and safety of my comrades, most of whom are not memoirists. This respect for privacy—and, by extension, safety—often dictates the structure of the pieces I’m writing.

I sometimes choose a different structure—maybe something more experimental—for those essays or find a clever way to blur people or events for privacy. I love a good borrowed form—lists, how-to instructions, recipes—and how they allow me to talk about things through a particular lens or point of view that pays respect to all of those factors. These forms can help to talk about an event without the journalistic accounting that, while familiar, often exposes more details than is comfortable.

I’m sure another activist would have a whole other list of things to consider when writing about activism, and I’m certain I’ve left things out. This is part of how praxis works, though: We do our best to continue to refine the way we live our values. You will do the same. You will come up with considerations for your political writing that I hadn’t considered. And this is the beauty of the collective: No one person holds all the knowledge; we all have the capacity to share wisdom. The best political writing is always adding layers to an ongoing conversation about what it means to live in the world and make it a more just place.