An author whose work has changed my life, Susan Cain, wrote a piece called, Can beauty save the world?
It was timely—considering the (terrible) results of the 2024 U.S. election.
It’s also a question I often ask myself, as someone who finds purpose in creativity (often considered a selfish pursuit) and gentleness, yet longs for change and activism—to use my privilege for good.
The thing is, I’m a gentle creature, a sensitive creature, as many of my closest friends know. I’ve struggled with integrating activism into my life because, in the past, it quickly led to burnout. In my undergrad, I did my practicum at a settlement center in Vancouver. Though I loved the work (I worked with immigrants to create a cookbook), I left each day with a migraine. The lights, the noise, the long hours—it was such a simple project, and yet it was too much for me.
I’ve learned, though, that activism can be gentle, and gentleness has its own quiet strength. Gentle activism is one of intentionality, of listening deeply, of creating art that inspires connection, or simply being present for others amongst the chaos. It’s a space of reflection, of cultivation, of belonging and care. These smaller acts of care, I believe, can contribute to the collective work of change.
I think of bell hooks’ book, All About Love: New Visions, and how eloquently but powerfully hooks describes the monumental change love can have not only relationally but in society. In short, All About Love calls for a radical rethinking of love’s potential—inviting readers to consider it not just as an emotion, but as an intentional practice that can heal and empower. How gentle is that?
I lived in the U.S. for a few years in the early ’90s, then again as an adult from 2011 to late 2022. Though Canada always felt like home, the years that made me who I am today, were spent in the U.S. The home I built in the U.S., the country where my babies were born, where I met and married my partner, and where most of my closest friends live, has become a deep part of my identity and belonging. I thought 2016 was the worst of it. I remember going to work the next day—at Amazon in Seattle—and seeing so many coworkers, primarily coworkers of colour, crying. It was heart-wrenching. Now, years later in Canada, waking up to see that the same man has become President yet again is devastating.
What does one do in these times?
I turn to the words of bell hooks. I turn to my yoga mat. I turn to poetry, to writing. I turn to hug my children. I reach out to my friends, making sure they’re okay. I turn to the artists, poets, and musicians who transform sorrow into something beautiful. I turn to so many other quiet, gentle activists, and I vow never to let my silence be passive but rather one of power, gentleness, and intentionality—a force strong enough to make change.
Can beauty save the world?
Yes, yes, I believe it can.
For those of us who walk gently through the world, beauty is our power, and love is how we show it.
When small communities organize their lives around a love ethic, every aspect of daily life can be affirming for everyone. - bell hooks