Princetonians want political change. Why don’t more of us take action?

Like many of my peers, I was a dedicated student organizer in high school, but I’ve been utterly inactive at Princeton. Instead of attending Sunrise Princeton or SPEAR (Students for Princeton Education, Abolition, and Reform) events, I’ve justified my disengagement by telling myself that I don’t have enough time to make a substantive commitment to those groups.

This is something I want to change because Princeton’s oft-discussed lack of a robust campus activist scene is sustained by attitudes like mine. But I don’t believe that Princeton students are apathetic. Our student body is certainly opinionated. A recent open letter calling for the administration to more vociferously condemn antisemitism on campus received over 1,800 signatures. Another, advocating for institutional solidarity with Gaza garnered 900 signatures. In both cases, students represented the majority of signatories. Even in 2020, over 2,000 students (89 percent) voted yes on the referendum on divestment from fossil fuels. So why don’t we convert our principles into action?

Princetonians are reluctant to get involved in campus activism due to two understandable but misguided assumptions about activism: First, that being an “activist” is a distinct identity that makes one different from the rest of us, and second, that one must be completely ideologically aligned with a group before expressing solidarity. Both lead to low levels of campus activism, and the latter belief reinforces that low turnout by driving social stigma surrounding activism. But we shouldn’t let our fear of the activist label or small qualms with the content of an activist group’s platform prevent us from engaging with — or even passively supporting — social and environmental justice advocacy on campus.

Let’s start with the first misconception. Part of our disinclination towards campus activism stems from public vilifications of activists as self-righteous caricatures of humorless political correctness. Sometimes, these critiques are valid. Callout culture and relentless focus on identity politics can be corrosive in left-wing circles. But the vast majority of activists I’ve met both at home and at Princeton are self-aware, passionate, enthusiastic, and welcoming. And their work is important. As reactionaries foment cultural animus towards young activists, it’s easy to forget that for decades, political and cultural change for justice has been spearheaded by student organizers, from the sit-ins of the Civil Rights movement to protests against the Vietnam War. Campus activists aren’t just smug social justice warriors — they are harbingers of real political change.

Yet, distaste for the activist label can inhibit activism’s potential to create that change. One study of “pro-environmental” Australians found that while its subjects supported sustainability and the idea of “doing one’s bit,” they rejected the prospect of participating in “activism.” This dynamic might be applied at Princeton — we want certain changes, we just don’t want to be identified as the people demanding them.

This creates a vicious cycle: There are few activists, so people believe they will be otherized for participating in activism, and therefore, the number of activists stays stagnant. Organizing isn’t integrated into our campus culture, and activism can’t be normalized when it isn’t normal. If activism is already sparse, the significance of a small action like attending a walkout will feel magnified.

But the more we engage in activism, the less momentous our own participation will feel. If we consciously endeavor to bring friends to meetings, help make signs for marches, and turn out to walkouts and rallies, our collective voice will be heard, and our individual roles will fade into the background. This can be comforting for those worried about the social and professional implications of campus advocacy. It’s also how successful movements work, relying on the power of many, not just one.

Understanding that this is how activism works — collectively — can empower people to go to protests and meetings because it undermines the stereotype that being an “activist” is an undesirable individual identity and the misconception that only people with that “identity” label can contribute. By considering activism to be a communal effort, we realize that we can contribute in ways that don’t have to be overwhelming or ambitious. Showing up for each other is enough.

Now let’s tackle the second misconception about activism, that one needs to support everything a group says, believes, or does in order to attend events they organize or sign petitions they write. Not only is ideological purity an unrealistic standard, it’s an impediment to concrete activist achievements. Effective and sustainable changemaking requires a dedication to coalition politics that the quest for perfect agreement undermines. Carleton University professor Alexis Shotwell writes that we should “reject purity” as a destroyer of solidarity and aim instead for a “politics of imperfection.” While she uses this term to criticize overzealous left-wing activists, it applies to hesitancy about campus activism as well. Instead of writing off campus activist groups and events for being imperfect, or for imperfectly corresponding to our own views, we should welcome the disparities between our opinions and their platforms as signs of ideological diversity and catalysts for critical reflection.

You can find elements of the Green New Deal, the sweeping policy proposal that the Sunrise Movement promotes, to be unrealistic and still support Sunrise Princeton’s demands that the University divest and disassociate from the fossil fuel industry by attending actions that the group organizes. You can disapprove of the inflammatory rhetoric of some Students for Justice in Palestine organizers and still attend their vigils for those killed in Gaza out of belief in the Princeton Palestine Liberation Coalition’s mission of advocating for “Palestinian freedom, justice, and right to return.” In short, you can go to protests without joining every chant or agreeing with every speaker. You can stand in solidarity with an activist group without becoming its president.

The history of activism is the history of different groups with different priorities coming together around common goals. In the late ’60s in Chicago, Black Panther Party organizer Fred Hampton helped create a multiracial “Rainbow Coalition” that advocated for radical change, encompassing the Black Panther Party, the Young Lords — a Hispanic civil rights organization — and the Young Patriots, a white working-class group with Appalachian origins. In spite of some divisions over messaging and tactics, the Rainbow Coalition launched important initiatives like free breakfast programs and daycare centers. We can channel the spirit of visionary groups like this by recognizing that the need for solidarity transcends any desires for ideological purity or unanimity. Nothing gets done unless people work together, and working together means that sometimes not everyone agrees on everything.

It’s time for the Princeton community to translate our intellectual engagement with politics and policy into action. This doesn’t require us to upend our everyday routines — it might just mean joining Sunrise Princeton’s Earth Day walkout on April 22 or Princeton Young Democratic Socialists of America (YDSA)’s walkout for workers on April 25. We can all make manageable, conscious contributions to incorporate activism into our campus culture, and we can start this week.