It’s a hard act to follow the wonderful, energizing, and motivating perspectives of many Tampa-area activists in the State of Tampa Politicssection. When one of the leaders at Ybor City Stogie asked me to share my own perspective on the state of Tampa politics, I was honored and, I have to admit, a bit nervous about whether I’d have anything meaningful to add. At the end of the day, I’m just one person in a bay area full of people.
I’ve lived in the Tampa Bay area for going on 15 years. I’ve seen houses, shopping centers, charter schools, and gas stations mushroom on the landscape along I-75 where cattle once grazed on acres of grassy land and all that stood between US-301 and the interstate was a stop sign or two. I’ve worked, raised two children, gone through neighborhood and workplace drama and trauma, thrown beads at Gasparilla events, danced at Skipper’s Smokehouse concerts, made friends, had fights, lost touch with people with whom I could no longer relate (or who no longer could relate to me), blown out candles on birthday cakes, loved, valued, fought, worked, ached. In short, I’m a lot like many who call Tampa Bay home.
I wasn’t always active in political causes. I remember reacting with horror at the pictures of the war prisoners we tortured at Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo and threw myself into the Tampa progressive movement out of thin air. There I stayed until shortly before President Obama’s initial election, when I took a years-long hiatus to adopt our two sons and raise them. The danger of Trumpism and the glaring racism, xenophobia, and cruelty of Americans toward other Americans and immigrants fired me into action yet again—only this time, it felt different. I felt older, tired, stretched, jaundiced, judgmental, self-critical, critical of those around me, and frustrated with what I perceived was inaction, intersquabbling, indecision, and intransigence from more powerful and more moneyed forces than me—just one person.
Now nearing fifty, I also felt the clock ticking on my own aspirations to live the life I wanted to live conflicted with the greater goal of serving our local, our state, our national, our world community. How much of myself was I really willing to give up? It was then that I realized how privileged and fortunate I am. Were it that millions of others would be so lucky as to have the time and the luxury to contemplate this uniquely First World,
white dilemma.
So, I fought through this inner turmoil and am still fighting it, to some degree. The tireless, selfless, and courageous activism of my fellow citizens in Tampa’s progressive community has inspired me—and humbled me. The efforts and visible struggles of the leaders around me who don’t complain about the work they do and don’t expect a pat on the back for their civic duties have forced me to get a grip, to get over my privileged hang-ups and frustrations, to be honest with my own shortcomings as an activist and as a fellow human being, and to get busy.
To echo a community leader who recently organized a huddle of us progressives and gave us marching orders, we don’t have time to sit this one out, and we don’t have the luxury to be sick of being angry and passionate about what we believe in. We have to back our passions with work. Yes, we take a break when we need to, and we shouldn’t feel guilty for necessary self-care, but when we’re rested, we come back fighting.
I know how hard it is. I know how exhausting and thankless it can sometimes seem. But I’ll be here for the long haul, and I’m here for you. Let’s be here, and do here, for one another.
If you’re a progressive in Tampa, you’ll find no lack of people, organizations, candidates, issues, and resources to get involved. Many State of Tampa Politics writers have already mentioned a variety of candidates to support in this November’s election; this very blog mentions issues to work for and work towards: Fight for $15, our transportation crisis, the bathhouse ordinance, and the community of homeless people who need our help. Several Indivisible chapters have sprouted new and returning activists who work within, alongside, and outside the Democratic Party for meaningful and lasting
progressive solutions.
More than half a century ago, before the old lady writing this was even born, a prominent civil-rights leader once stated that “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends in the direction of justice.” That arc is still long and still tilting, but it needs many of us to do the heavy lifting for the long haul—beyond the next election cycle, after the next legislation has passed or been tabled. No one person can do it all, but together, a lot of us can do quite
a lot of good.
Michelle J Kenoyer
