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Writer's pictureTaylor McNallie

“Community is an Ecosystem, Not a Clique.”

Mutual aid has been a common term used these past 4 years, particularly as the pandemic began in 2020 and communities came together to take care of each others needs after recognizing our governments were not going to protect us in the ways that we needed/need. But mutual aid has been around for centuries, not only being practiced within marginalized and poor communities who are left behind by the government and the general population but, as a natural way of life and coexistence within Black and non-Black Indigenous Peoples.


Mutual aid is the act of caring for one another outside of the State; it’s ensuring our basic needs are met with autonomy and without dehumanization. Mutual aid looks like many different things: it could be providing rides, making food, distributing supplies, redistributing funds, and much more. And while the knowledge of “mutual aid” has spiked these last few years, sadly, its guiding principles have not followed the same popular trend.


“Mutual aid was not born out of survival - its initial purpose was to help our communities thrive. Yes, it has been used in times of crisis to help the most targeted in our society survive, but that is not enough. We must be committed to seeing people thrive, not just scrape by. Mutual aid is Indigenous lifeways and sovereignty; it is Black thrivance and power. Both will outlive anarcho-communist theory and non-profit co-option. It is not simply a theory, but a practice which many people of colour have been acting on, and which predates colonialism and capitalism.” - Regan de Loggans


What we see labeled as “mutual aid” is oftentimes creative forms of charity. While an action or initiative might be community-led and grassroots (grassroots: not a registered organization, not receiving government funding/grants), it does not make it “mutual aid”. Mutual aid requires an understanding of WHY we must care for each other outside of the state, understanding the importance of divesting from the systems that keep us in a state of need, and that the “work” does not end after your “volunteering” session - it is a constant practice within our daily lives.


It’s also ensuring those most impacted by these systems are centered at every moment.


“There are many middle-class people who are willing to make sacrifices, but as a social group, they have too many privileges, comforts, and family attachments to make them reliable. This doesn't just go for white people. This goes for all middle-class people, including Black and other people of color. Too often, non-white middle-class people occupy space in movement without any understanding of their class privilege or power, and they are never challenged. Race, gender, and sexual identities are often front and center, but class is omitted.” - BadSchoolBadSchool


There’s two primary types of “mutual aid” scenarios I see regularly. One being where a person, or persons, will organize direct aid to individuals more systemically impacted than them. An example: handing out food and supplies to unhoused folks. In this scenario, very rarely are the unhoused people themselves leaders of the action/initiative, or have their ideas implemented within the organizing of the action/initiative. Oftentimes it’s a situation where the group shows up once a week to give out supplies, then are back to their regular programming for the rest of the week. This is still a form of saviorism.


Another scenario I see is people who will gladly fundraise for or donate to people they already have a relationship with, but that same kind of energy is never extended to those outside of their direct community - the people left behind that still exist within their peripheral. This shows clear bias in who we believe should and should not receive support. Just because you may not know somebody personally, does not mean they are not deserving of support and effort in the same manner; just because you may not know somebody personally, does not mean they are not a part of your community.


“Reducing ‘mutual aid’ to turn-taking transactions shuts out those most in need, including severely disabled and impoverished people. / Similarly, I have heard ‘what is your relationship to me that you can ask for support?’ or ‘but we are not community!’ and I think this is a dangerous interpretation of the idea that social change starts with relationships and communities. The people asking for change, access, and help are *already* part of our communities - though often systemically excluded - and by asking for help, they offer an opportunity to build relationships. / Community is an ecosystem, not a clique.” - Fiddlehead Finn


Direct financial aid is probably some of the most important work you can do, as millions of people are blocked from accessing life-saving resources due to a lack of funds in this racial capitalist system while others have much more than they need. Participating in financial distribution as mutual aid also allows you to build a new relationship to money; rather than money being used as an oppressive tool, you make the conscious choice to use that tool as a power to help free others.


Direct financial aid helps to change the material conditions for people, which then allows people to be able to focus on something beyond basic survival.


Sadly, financial distribution as mutual aid is often side-eyed due to peoples very basic understanding of what mutual aid truly is, limiting it to this turn taking, transactional, “scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours” type situation that exists primarily between friends. This ends up recreating or, rather, maintaining systemic barriers and leaving many people behind in their “efforts”. What happens, then, is those struggling to survive are still left to fend for themselves. There’s a *joke* that we’re all “passing around the same $20” and it’s true: those most impacted by these systems are always the first to jump in and support others while those with access to much more require constant reminding and pushing to redistribute their wealth.


It’s particularly frustrating to see inequities play out in real time when I make a request for myself and often have my needs quickly met while the requests I share for others on a regular basis are left for weeks - sometimes months. I know people have the funds to support these asks, asks from multiply oppressed people who are reaching out to me for support in amplifying because they do not have the platform or community to tap into as I do. That’s my privilege. And because I recognize this privilege, oftentimes, the money I receive (that I also need) is still redistributed further to support others, which means, sometimes, my needs still go unmet. The cycle of struggle remains.


“In my circles, there is a lot of talk speaking to more privileged people, who do not see the value in mutual aid. However, there is very little talk speaking to the most oppressed of us, who see the value in mutual aid, yet also don't believe in it to catch us. This is because we have felt repeatedly neglected, abused, or harmed by community, and therefore don't feel safe relying on community. Not to mention, there is a huge disparity in who receives community care (who gets their needs met when they ask for help), which is affected by our many privileges." - Samirah the Sapphic Siren


True mutual aid work requires us to deeply understand how our liberation is tied to one another, which involves listening to and learning from multiply oppressed peoples. Black people, unhoused people, disabled people, sex workers, caregivers, children are all groups who are often left out from organizing spaces, deprioritized, abandoned and discarded. Without these voices, our organizing will always fall short; collective liberation doesn’t happen without the collective. If we avoid working for the well-being of those most impacted by state violence, we will always be fighting for air. Our mutual aid practices must be an ongoing commitment to seeing those historically oppressed finally thrive.


How are we ensuring our work is centering those most marginalized? How are we ensuring we avoid hierarchies and saviourism within our organizing? How are we ensuring that those who need the most support have access to a community who can provide that support? These are questions we should be asking ourselves on a daily basis.


 


"Taylor McNallie dedicates her time to seeking racial justice and collective liberation through education and hands-on work with both marginalized communities and accomplices alike. As the co-creator of Inclusive Canada, she provides education on anti-racism, white supremacy, and anti-Blackness. She is also a member of the Walls Down Collective which provides access to no-barrier resources and care such as Harm Reduction, free food programs and an alternative to local policing."


Pay Black people for their time, energy and labor.

Etransfer & PayPal: tmcnallie@gmail.com



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