all or something

In the past year or so, I feel that I’ve finally found my voice.

I hail from the Midwest, which offers many pros and cons. I love that my roots are wholesome, warm, and Minnesota-nice. But I also maintained some qualities that I don’t love — things like passive-aggression, brushing things under the rug, and avoiding confrontation.

When I moved to New York, I learned quickly that some of these behaviors would have to change. New Yorkers don’t speak passive-aggression. They simply don’t have time for it. So I began to build a language for myself that kept kindness at heart, but wasn’t afraid to be bold and honest.

A big turning point for me in finding my voice was attending the Women’s March last year in DC. It was a unique time in my life. My two best friends were working outside of New York for over a year. I hadn’t done a show in many months and was forced to find meaning in my life outside of the theatre. And my outrage at the 2016 election had stirred something in me that I know many of us felt. This, I think, was the trifecta for me — my utter independence, my need to dig deeper, and my newfound desperation for change.

This paved the way for a budding activist. I began to hear my own unique thoughts for the first time. I felt compelled to share. To speak out. To stand up. I met some incredible women who I can honestly say have changed my life. Thanks to them, I began to really understand and appreciate what it means to be a woman. I fell in love with myself, and with them, and learned how to really respect myself and others as women.

I began to feel like I’d taken on an entirely new persona. Alison 2.0. I’d have these experiences where I’d see myself from a bird’s eye view and be shocked at this woman who was capable of articulating herself, standing up for herself, and demanding more of others. I didn’t know who this gal was but I was thrilled to meet her.

I shocked the people around me, too. Old friends and loved ones had a hard time keeping up with this new Alison. I found myself in a few sticky conversations where I refused to revert to old ways. I questioned everything. And, to a fault, I expected everyone to get on my level. “If you’re not mad, you’re not paying attention.” “Educate yourself.” “Do better.” “If you’re not for us, you’re against us.”

Upon arrival, my raging feminist took no prisoners. I heard my voice so loudly and clearly that unless someone was speaking in tandem with me, I could barely hear them. I struggled to accept anyone who wasn’t on this journey with me. I found myself in a very all-or-nothing state — I saw people as feminists or misogynists, educated liberals or idiot conservatives, woke baes or privileged jerks, allies or enemies.

And I think when you hear your voice for the first time, this is natural. When you begin to take a stand for things that matter, you need to set some big, uncharted boundaries.

But I came to the realization this week that with time, these boundaries can be blurred a bit.

I found myself in a conversation with a friend who asked me if I could be friends with someone who openly opposed gay marriage. My initial response was pretty quick and simple: I said, depending on how important this friend was to me, or if I felt she brought value to my life in other ways, I would try my best to educate her and encourage her to think differently. But I continued, saying that so many of my very best friends are gay, and it’s so much a part of my community, so I probably wouldn’t want this person in my life. I then added that it’s the same response I would have to someone who was racist, or a Trump supporter, or not a feminist.

And then I realized, I do have those people in my life. And I myself can be some of those things! We all have our prejudices and can be sorely misinformed, whether we like it or not.

As I was wrestling with these feelings, I approached one of my dear friends who doesn’t care for labels and had told me before that he doesn’t prescribe himself a “feminist.” I realized this bothered me, and I wanted to dig deeper.

My inner, fiery feminist felt the piping hot anger I had uncovered a little over a year ago at the Women’s March. This friend felt that because we had some differing viewpoints, and because he didn’t feel educated enough, he couldn’t properly label himself a feminist. I felt those gut, all-or-nothing feelings kicking in. How could my friend not stand by me and support me in all of these issues?

One thing led to the next, and we ended up Googling the definition of feminism:

“The advocacy of women's rights on the basis of the equality of the sexes.”

It’s that simple.

In fact, when we looked up the definitions to many other hot-button -ism’s, we found that most were incredibly, humblingly simple.

By this definition, my friend is absolutely a feminist. He may not know all the terms, and all the history, and the in’s and out’s of every issue on the table; but he advocates for my rights based on the idea that the sexes should be equal.

So we both agreed, he’s a feminist.

And I realized, I was content with that.

In today’s political climate, I think we’re all quick to attack people for what they aren’t doing. If you aren’t educated enough, if you aren’t active enough, you might as well be doing nothing.

But isn’t that just eliminating friends and allies?

I’ve come to the conclusion that we can’t overlook those who are at least doing something.

Now, I’m not letting people off the hook. I don’t think that reading Facebook articles and contributing to your own personal echo chamber elicits much change. But if it inspires you to educate yourself further and start having conversations with people who don’t look and live exactly as you do? I think that’s great. If it ultimately leads to a desire to contact your representatives when it counts, vote where it matters, or take to the streets when you’ve had enough? I’ll take it.

We can’t all be perfect activists overnight. And in a time where so many people are getting fired up about issues that matter, I think it can be overwhelming and intimidating for some to latch on to these movements. If you don’t know enough or are afraid of saying something ignorant, it’s safer to just sit it out.

I don’t know about you, but I’d rather have a team of allies who are at least doing something, than alienate my friends so much that they’re afraid to even do anything.

For someone like me who can be loud and proud and angry, I think it’s beneficial to take a small step back and recognize when my energy is better spent inviting those who are curious into the movement than attacking them for not having the information already.

So as I continue on my own personal path towards being the most educated, empathetic, active, actualized person I can be, I’m going to make sure that I’m saving my anger for the right places. My fire and fury (lolz) needs to be reserved for the tougher battles, the real bigots, and the many marches to come.

And to those who are doing something to fight the good fight? I thank you, and I stand with you.

At the 2017 Women's March in DC with some of the most incredible women I know :)