QVS and Social Change
Chrissie Elcock
The political climate is burning my skin. The flames under this melting pot sizzle and pop fumigating the air. The aftermath of this election has left the Western liberal world mortified. Ideals and hopes for achieving an undivided nation diminish within literal seconds. I rise from a restless night November 8th to news that presents itself to me as a slap in the face. My community of Quaker and spiritually-led women, who strive for equality and justice through forty or more hours a week, are shaken.
What does this mean now for our fight for social change?
This question plagues our mind.
It’s hard not to feel like both the phone calls we made to inform local communities of the Democratic campaign, “Better Together,” and the importance of practicing the basic civil right to vote wasn’t enough. It’s hard to think back to the training we had gone through at Pendle Hill which taught us the importance of community; of understanding equity and difference and see that even that appeared to be lost in the outcome of this political election.
November 9th, the day of our communal house worship, we seek comfort in each other. We each go around the room in a worshipful way and express the truths of our hurt to each other. There are tears. There is anger. There is fear.
Amongst the news of Swastikas graffitied on shop windows and racial outbursts on messaging app GroupMe towards black students in multiple cities, we convene together, knowing ultimately that there is more work to be done.
At my site placement, Bread & Roses Community Fund, we give out grants to grassroots movements that are frame-worked around social justice. It is here I am able to offer a contribution through service as we work to heal and help communities that are disadvantaged under the system. Through service I am able to connect with organizers who are committed to breaking down systems of oppression. Through service I am able to learn and attend talks hosted by New Century Trust, a female-led organization brings together non-profits who work specifically to improve the political, economic, and social status of women and girls. The talk about “Philly Girl Futures” was held soon after the election results. Conversation circled around identifying how we felt and what the next steps were.
Marching in unity with the millions of women (and men) at the march whose sign-postage varied with messages about the Dakota Access Pipeline, Black Lives Matter, Planned Parenthood and immigrant rights felt incredibly powerful. To a first generation British girl with West Indian roots living in The United States, this felt like community.
Powerful dialogue was shared in the room inspiring thoughtful discussions on what moving forward looked like, not just to us, but to organizations working to empower and support their girls in the aftermath of the election. Girls who since have lost even more confidence in their self-worth. The talk with other strong women encouraged me to reflect upon myself and what I needed to do to move forward.
It wasn’t too long before 2017 was upon us. January 16th marked MLK Day. A few of my housemates and I took to the streets to march and rally in Philadelphia, commemorating Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and his message that seemed even more prevalent that day. There was unity amongst the crowd and a strength regained as these words echoed from the speakers:
“We’re here today because we’re saying that in this moment we come to resist.”
At the QVS house we had been making various plans to visit Washington D.C. for the Women’s March that was due to take place the day after inauguration. One of our housemate’s aunts was able to sponsor our trip, which alleviated the expenses. This was to one of the biggest political demonstrations worldwide with reports saying the amount of people in attendance reached seven figures.
In preparation for the march, our household used fiber arts to reclaim power in domesticity; to create, paint, and embroider a social justice banner with the words “Respect Existence or Expect Resistance” in bold purple colors.
Marching in unity with the millions of women (and men) at the march whose sign-postage varied with messages about the Dakota Access Pipeline, Black Lives Matter, Planned Parenthood and immigrant rights felt incredibly powerful. To a first generation British girl with West Indian roots living in The United States, this felt like community.
We had been disillusioned to believe that our work was done, that the battle was over regardless of who the next elected president was. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that togetherness is our strength and we need each other now more than ever.
Our journeys may be different, but our fight remains the same.
Together, we aspire for social change.
February 2017: Written by Chrissie Elcock, 2016-17 Philadelphia QVS Fellow working with Bread and Roses Community Fund