by Andrea Penner
You’re more likely to hear me shout at a college basketball game than at a protest march, or at a politician on television than at a political rally. My brand of activism is quieter. I’m the one who will walk for miles, door-to-door, to hang hundreds of campaign flyers on door knobs, or to call hundreds of registered voters, one at a time, to remind them to vote and help them find their nearest polling place. Sometimes the world is too noisy to hear us, but it’s still a world that needs our hands-on care, concern, and expressions of solidarity.
I was the fourth-grader who pasted a green-and-white ecology flag on her notebook; the sixth-grader who collaborated on a class report about the environmental impact of the Santa Barbara oil spill; and the eleventh-grader who distributed a letter to fans on both sides of the field at a high-school football game, signed by dozens of players, proclaiming their commitment to Christ, “our Lord, our coach, and our friend.” As a college student, I trick-or-treated for UNICEF in the dorm with friends—all of us together were dressed as Breakfast—I was bacon, in my brown leotard and tights; Kathy was a fried egg in a yellow hoodie under a white T-shirt; and Deb was a donut sprinkled with glitter—all of us collecting money for children affected by famine in Ethiopia and Bangladesh.
Years and two children later, as a graduate teaching assistant, I advocated for a more inclusive curriculum and better cultural support for Native American students in composition classes. As a college professor, I pushed for more involvement by faculty in academic advising. When I couldn’t donate money to causes, I donated time, becoming a Big Sister for a troubled sixth grader, whom I sister-loved, tutored, mentored, and befriended—to this day (though with less contact now that she’s a healthcare professional in another state).
Sometimes activism is loud and bold and big, but not always. Sometimes it’s quietly demonstrating how to be a good world citizen by picking up trash in your neighborhood, volunteering to sort tomatoes at the food bank. Sometimes it’s posting a link to an organization you know is reputable and doing good work. You don’t always need a megaphone, microphone, or a podcast to be an activist—sometimes, the best activism is to simply listen.
Andrea (Andi) Penner lives in New Mexico, where she serves up poetry and prose on In Our Own Ink.