Anyone who has organized for social change knows, deep in their soul, that the work is exhilarating, rewarding and really, really hard. In fact, those of us who consider ourselves movement old-timers often grouse that we’ve seen it all: Campaigns that implode, leaders who fail to deliver, fundraising that falters, dogmatic rigidity among the rank-and-file, and sniping by so-called comrades who should know better, but don’t. All told, on bad days—admittedly more frequent since January 2025—we see permanent retreat as an appealing option. 

Intellectually, we know that this would be a grave error. But emotionally? Well, that’s another story.

Thankfully, we now have READ THIS When Things Fall Apart. READ THIS When Things Fall Apart is a series of 21 essays and one poem meant as balm for weary activists as well as the newly engaged. The advice is practical, clearly written, concrete and draws on personal experiences as well as theory. It’s a potent mix, with something to inspire a wide range of readers to keep the faith.

Chris Begley’s “Read This if You Are Panicking About Collapse,” for example, reminds readers that change is constant. “Everything falls apart, that’s a given,” he writes. “None of this lasts forever, and we know that. We do not look at a child and ask, ‘What’s the point? Why educate them? Why feed them? They are going to die someday.’ That scenario is ridiculous…We do not need permanence to make something valuable.” In fact, we do not even need to win, although we obviously want to. More to the point, Begley writes, engagement with others gives us a chance to model the world we’re working toward. “How we treat people matters. Generosity, fairness, and empathy are not just favors to others. They are how we create the community in which we must live.”

Numerous essays in the anthology reinforce this point, with authors noting that compassion and grace are paramount, not only when extended to others but also for ourselves. “We are all we have,” writer Micah Herskind tells readers. “We are reason enough to keep fighting, even, or especially, when things are unimaginably awful.”

Likewise, Aaron Goggans challenges the idea that “self-sacrifice and disposability” are organizing essentials. “Take all the naps,” he advises. “Eat all the foods that make you feel good. Find the people who make you feel safe. Touch the earth.”

And ask for help when you need it.

“I want to make sure you’re supported,” Leanne Betasamosake Simpson writes.”Do you have someone you trust with whom you can talk? … Sometimes tiny things help.”

It’s a good reminder. Indeed, the urgency of the moment—environmental calamity, gun violence, endless wars in Gaza, Ukraine and Sudan, backsliding on vaccines, social welfare cutbacks and so much more can cause us to forget that we need rest, food, and time away. This is particularly important for members of the disability justice (DJ) community. “I worry so much, as DJ continues and progresses, that there is such pressure on people to be disabled organizers without somehow being disabled, or nuts, or neurodivergent anymore…There is so much pressure to somehow be competent,” Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha writes.

This is something many of us, in and outside of DJ groups, are susceptible to as we push through despite grief, illness or exhaustion. Needless to say, it’s unsustainable.

The contributors to READ THIS When Things Fall Part acknowledge this and note that organizing is rarely a linear process. That said, these are people with ideas and strategies to help us stay engaged long term. Moreover, editor Hayes is clear that while none of us can do everything, everyone can do something. “Engage in activities that ground you in your values, or what you love about the world, or even what you love about other people,”  she advises. 

It’s good advice. READ THIS situates the current crisis along the jagged roadway of history. As Mariame Kaba, one of the few elders included in the collection, writes, at a time when uncertainty is the only certainty, we have no choice but to embrace the unknown and find friends with whom to share our hopes, fears, passions, rage, and dreams. “Make space in your life to begin again every single day,” Kaba writes. “Be astonished at mundane things in your world. Build positive actions into the fabric of your life…We’ll get through this together. That’s a promise.”