I’m Not an Activist Anymore
I don’t want to make political work my identity — I just want to live a life I can stand.
In the author bio for my first book, it says that I am an activist. That bio has found its way onto countless bookseller pages, and appears in all manner of publications and podcast interview descriptions. When I lead workshops or give talks, people introduce me using that bio. It says that I am a social psychologist, writer, activist, and professor.
Every time I hear the sentence my stomach flops with disgust. Ughh, I think to myself. Who put that there? So obnoxious. So fake. So annoying. Get the fuck over yourself.
I must have put the word activist there. I wrote my book’s back cover copy and the description that appears on every bookstore website. I wrote my bio. I know I did. I must have believed at some point that describing myself as an activist was a good idea. Yet every time I hear someone read my own words back to me, I cannot fathom I have anything in common with the person who thought that was the right move.
It makes me cringe, and not just because it’s too painfully sincere. Activist sounds so sanctimonious and celebratory. It’s so much more, well, active than what my day to day life looks like, all puffed-up with self-importance. That word, and my decision to…
