
It’s the time of year when we are encouraged to make declarations of love, and I have so much love for all of us out there fighting the good fight. In particular, I want to offer a Valentine’s validation to movement communicators.
Even as we reckon with the real-time onslaught of the Trump 2.0 era, the chattering class just can’t stop chattering about why Harris lost the election, often blaming folks like us. Never mind that there is no evidence that Harris bowed to leftist pressure—only that she followed the lead of centrist consultants and donors.
Yet here we are, watching the media and party insiders scapegoat progressive non-profits and philanthropies, painting us as a “shadow party” pushing radical policies and policing language. Dear ones, I wish we had that much power and influence!
And yet, pundits and others paid to pontificate see fit to blame the people working hard for justice—many of whom also donated our own (modest by comparison) dollars and countless hours to her campaign.
And I have heard these dedicated folks—myself included—internalize this message that our work may have contributed to this current hellscape. In my despair, I’ve even asked myself if my work training trans communicators, or fighting discrimination against fat people–work that feels essential to me–could somehow be making things worse.
But let’s be clear: Movement communicators like us do the work that we do because we believe deep in our hearts that people deserve to live as themselves and to love who they love.
That no matter where you were born or the color of your skin, you should not face discrimination. We think people have a right to health care and a roof over their heads, and to have autonomy over their own bodies. And guess what? Most Americans agree with us.
That doesn’t mean that all of our positions, or organizations, are popular. Many are not, because they are doing marginalized work on behalf of marginalized people.
And that means it is underfunded and often challenges the status quo as well as people’s deeply held biases. That is what movements are for—work that is both difficult and important.
And we have seen so many of our issues move from the fringes to the center of American life. Whether it’s disability justice advocates winning the Americans with Disabilities Act, and the fruits of that work showing up on our streets as ramps and curb cuts and on our zooms and TVs as ASL interpreters, or same-sex marriages moving from illegal to your Cheerios ad, our work makes a difference.
But ours is not the work of winning elections. That is the job of politicians and their relatively well-resourced and established political parties. It’s their job to build a tent big enough for the coalition they need to win, not to pull us over into whatever narrow window of possibility they let fear trap them in.
We dream big and open the Overton window so that folks who have been left out of opportunity can step in.
Bold activism is responsible for everything from votes for women and the Voting Rights Act to desegregated schools and protections for our water and air. Things that once seemed outrageous are now sacred. That’s how progress works, and activists are who make it.
Changemakers, movement people, rabble-rousers—we see you and we love you. Keep paving the way.

Amanda Cooper, Senior Partner at LightBox Collaborative, wishes movement communicators had as much power as the pundits think we do.
