You May Not Do Politics, But Politics Does You
Most people don’t think they’re political. They’ll say, “I don’t do politics,” as if politics is an extracurricular—an optional course they can opt out of, like an email list they never subscribed to. But the truth is, everything is political.
Saying, “I don’t do politics,” is to misunderstand that politics will, inevitably, do you.
The price of eggs? Political.
Who gets funding for research? Political.
The air we breathe, the water we drink, the books we can check out from the library? Political.
The neighborhoods we live in, the healthcare we receive (or don’t), the wages we make, the wars being fought in our name? All of it.
The personal always intersects with the political.
What happens when someone doesn’t engage with politics? When they don’t vote, don’t question narratives, don’t consider historical or cultural context? These gaps aren’t just intellectual, they shape how people live, relate, and lead. Without awareness of systems like patriarchy, racism, and economic inequality, relationships become sites of imbalance, where power goes unchecked.
And yet, I get why people shut it out. It’s exhausting. The constant news cycle, the betrayals, the feeling that no matter how loud we scream, decisions are made without us. Sometimes, ignorance feels like self-preservation. Sometimes, you’d rather not know.I’ve been there.
But I’ve also been on the other side, the side where knowing turns into action, where frustration turns into movement, where passivity no longer feels like an option. And let me tell you, the shift from not knowing to seeing clearly changes everything.
Recently, I was inspired by one of my clients who unexpectedly found themselves leading an organizing effort for a science rally in North Carolina. They were frustrated about massive funding cuts to NIH research and wanted to do something about it. At first, it was overwhelming. They had no blueprint, no step-by-step guide to organizing a protest. But they decided to say, Why not? And something shifted.
They realized they weren’t drained, they were energized. There was something life-giving about putting energy into something bigger than themselves. They told me, “For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was sleepwalking.” They had moved from watching to acting. And that’s the thing—action is the antidote to despair.
Seeing the Political in Everything
Many people have opinions, but how many are reading the fine print? Tracking policies? Questioning narratives? Challenging their own biases? It’s important to read news across the spectrum left, right, center not because all sources are equal, but because seeing how stories are framed teaches us how fear is cultivated, how voting blocs are radicalized, how language is weaponized.
Because everything is political.
The attacks on DEI programs? Political.
The slashing of research funding? Political.
The gutting of healthcare, education, and basic social protections? All of it.
And once you see it, you can’t unsee it. That’s the real danger of waking upyou have to wrestle with the weight of knowing. But knowledge alone isn’t enough. Action is what transforms the weight into momentum.
A lot of people choose ignorance because it’s easier. And in some ways, I get it. If you’re just trying to survive, if you’re barely making ends meet, if the world already feels too heavy, the last thing you want to do is engage with systemic injustice.
But here’s the thing: those who benefit from our exhaustion are counting on us to check out.
They want us distracted.
They want us disempowered.
They want us too tired to fight back.
So when I hear someone say, “I don’t do politics,” what I really hear is, “I have the privilege to not care.” Because if you’re Black, brown, queer, disabled, a woman, an immigrant, or simply not part of the billionaire class—politics does you, whether you acknowledge it or not. Choosing not to engage doesn’t make you neutral. It makes you complicit.
You Don’t Have to Have All the Answers—You Just Have to Begin
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my journey from passive observer to active participant, it’s this:
You don’t have to organize a revolution overnight.
You don’t have to know everything before you start.
You don’t have to do everything—but you do have to do something.
Maybe it’s showing up to a rally.
Maybe it’s calling your representatives.
Maybe it’s simply having a conversation that challenges a perspective.
Because the world isn’t changed by the people who watch from the sidelines. It’s changed by the people who refuse to let exhaustion, fear, or apathy win. Everything is political.
The only question is: What are you going to do about it?
Welcome to Whole with Joy!
I’m so glad you’re here. I truly hope this reflection has offered you something positive or perhaps something to consider. I’d love to hear your thoughts and any feedback you may have, so please feel free to share in the comments.
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