Response to "In This Together"

On the difference between low- and high-intensity struggles

This is Sheri’s response to Sarah’s Substack article from last week, "In This Together." 

About a year into my relationship with Sarah, I was talking with her and a close mutual friend who was a pastor, like me. Sarah was telling us that she routinely worked a second shift at night, attempting to dismantle international structures that made it legal to poison the lands, waterways and bodies of the Wayana people of Suriname, with whom she was in relationship. Sarah had a demanding day job back then as a college professor; she was also the mother of a young child. After her child was asleep, she would stay up until 2 a.m., writing emails, sending out press releases, etc. She would get up again at 6 a.m. to feed her child and start her day job.

Our friend said what was on my mind, “Sarah, you have to take care of yourself. Remember: Put on your oxygen mask first. You will burn yourself out if you don’t.”

I watched as Sarah gently but clearly rejected this self-care argument, which is pervasive in middle-class circles. If she didn’t advocate on behalf of the Wayana, who was going to? If she didn’t stay up until 2 a.m., people might — literally — die. 

Sarah wasn’t expecting us to do as she did. She knew the schedule she kept was taking a toll on her health. But the stakes were high, and her commitments were clear. 

This rejection of self-care “wisdom” made an impression on me. It started changing how I thought about the way I and others like me engaged in justice work. Who was free to opt out of the struggle and who wasn’t? Who could decide to “put up some healthy boundaries” and who didn’t have that choice? Many, many times, I have heard Sarah compare her work to that of a mother advocating for a critically ill child: Would that mother rest before her child was well again? Would that mother decide to delay contacting a doctor who might be able to help because she needed some time for self-care?