I want to talk about these words by Jackie Summers:

“Harm has a network. Harm is well funded.

Too often, kindness is just vibes.”

Does that land for you? It does for me. I hope you will think with me about a few questions—How many times has someone had to hit you up for a favor, or even just to get coffee, before you said yes? How often have you hesitated when hit up, apprehensive that the person has a deeper agenda? Have you done this kind of support for someone who isn’t already in your close circle? Have you ever given consistently to one person, more than a one-off thing? Have you given up something (money/time/energy) so that you could be consistent for them?

And the doozy—have you expected the person to perform need and gratitude for you? If they did not, how did that feel?

And the biggest doozy of all—have you ever provided aid or helped bring eyes to an issue, and then turned that into a push for your own relevance and benevolence? Photo op?

I want us to ponder on these questions. Especially now, when the world is all wrong.

It makes me feel so shitty when I post a link to the fundraiser I am running, and no one donates for days. But they like all my posts that are not at all about that particular issue. The family I am helping cannot eat likes and care reacts…

And of course I feel a pressure to say Hashtag This Does Not Apply to Those Who Have Been Doing It. And I truly mean that.

But let’s come back to “harm has a network.” That is what we are up against. The people who stand against survival of the most downtrodden are pouring money into projects that harm. They give, vote, and show up as a bloc. Unlike many people, I don’t think we should have to do this. But if we are looking at what the network of harm is about, it is about blocs, and those blocs are organizing against us.

And what about kindness being mostly vibes? Because I see a lot of white people ardently throwing themselves into social media debates, trendily saying “leopards eating faces” and whatnot. But if we look at who takes up the most oxygen online, and tries to seem in the forefront of discourse, they don’t seem to organize, donate, or protest in the numbers needed. They are just…talking.

They tend to say they can’t spare the money. They lack the “spoons” for protests. They claim that they lack the skills for organized labor. There is always a reason for deflecting. Meanwhile, people without all those capacities, but whose communities are directly impacted, are showing up regardless. Because they have no other option. Backs are against the wall in the most violent of ways.

I am begging you all to stop blathering online and start contributing directly. Money. Time. Energy. If you are doing it already, good. If you do both things, good. Carry on, please. It is not for me to say which area your efforts should be directed towards. But I am happy if you are part of the work, and I hope you don’t expect a medal from me.

Now I want to get specifically into the running of fundraisers. It is an honor and a pleasure to do this, and I am learning a lot as we go on. But you know, there is a lot of hatred directed towards the people from The Place. Every time we speak publicly about their needs, we take grave risks. It should not be the case, and yet. And the ones who don’t directly spew venom are busy spreading false propaganda, donating in blocs to harmful causes, and people who don’t want to be targets of the venom? They are silent. They see it all, and take no action.

Today, one of the young people I chat with and donate to regularly in The Place was asking me to intervene on his behalf. A contact of his in the US had become angry with him for going AWOL and not texting enough. So she had stopped responding to his requests to send funds that she had been collecting for him and another person. Let me be clear: the money is donated by third parties, and she is the middleman who sends it on.

I did the needful, but then I had a talk with him about what was really going on, and what was reasonable to expect. I think we in the west are not aware enough of our power in this moment. We act helpless because of conditioning, and we cling to past trauma as a reason to hold people in an impossible situation to the same standards that we hold our other friends.

This is not okay! People in The Place are being starved and gen-0-sided! They have to run all over the place to drag water back to makeshift tents. They have to run to other places to charge their phones. They have to take care of their families. They are starving and sick. And drones and bullets fly along with them on the most basic of errands. If they can finally lie down for the night, bombs shake the earth beneath them; bugs eat them alive; fighter jets give them headaches and nightmares; a bathroom trip could get them sniped in the head. The Internet either craps out, or is purposefully cut when attacks are planned.

This kid is not running Tent OnlyFans out there! Some American woman got her feelings hurt because he was not responsive to her texts? My God. If, God forbid, I am ever in such a position, please just tell me no if I am stupid enough to ask for help, instead of expecting me to perform like a Tinder date. Any food I purchased with that money would taste like the boots you expected me to lick.

Isn’t this what abusive men do? Weaponize finances and demand attention? So let me say it plainly: the above is a classic example of the harmful way white women move through the world.

The thing that caused me the most pain was the way this kid was telling me that it was something he had to be respectful of. He didn’t want her to feel coerced to follow through. I could only shed angry tears at how colonizer culture has damaged our thinking. Later in the day, though, after some thought, he admitted that he felt desperately scared that she would just ghost him, as so many have done after having agreed to receive funds. Absconding with people’s survival money. Just because this woman is not doing it to be greedy (we hope) doesn’t make it better. Here is a kind and courteous guy from The Place, trying to learn American norms very quickly so he won’t starve, and she keeps shifting the goalposts on him. The rage that courses through me!

I reminded him of how, when we first started chatting, he eye rolled at me when I said that my reason for showing up was because I had internalized the idea that we in the west who do not align with the savagery that is unfolding have an obligation to show up in action, not just thoughts and prayers. He was scoffing because, like many The Place people, he was really truly extending the hand of friendship along with the request for support. But, I said, wasn’t what I said true in hindsight? We can be pissed at each other as friends, and I should still do what I said I would do.

What would you think of me, reader, if I was angry with A, and didn’t give him food? Does he not have agency to have a mood? Or should he perform to earn basic care?

Speaking of that, the reason I feel an easy connection to The People of the Place is because of having lived so much isolation in Autism Land. I am drawn to people living lives of dignity in circumstances enforced upon them that no one else would accept for themselves. That’s the simplest way I can state it. Conversations with them are easy because of this weird parallel.

The fact that they still place any trust in us at all should humble us, and instead, some treat it as a nuisance, a reopening of some personal wound; a slight to one’s own people; politics; a way to hold more tightly to one’s wallet.

What even are we at this moment? I have experienced the best and worst in people through autism, and now this arena. Every time I talk about the best, I physically hold onto my heart because the beauty is so exquisite that I might lose my senses. And every time the worst rears its head, I relive the wounds of the last twenty years of us having to be our own vibes endlessly.

I want to shout out my sister N, who has worked so relentlessly to solicit donations to the fundraiser. She is a force. The regular donors. My friend K, who placed an order in our weekly fundraising bake sale, used what R baked for her kid’s birthday in lieu of a cake, and even printed out flyers to publicize our efforts to give to her guests. You all make me clutch onto my heart.

And I send love with action behind it to my darlings in The Place. You know who you are. I cherish you, worry about you, and deeply respect your ways of moving in the world. You gave me a path to do more than sigh at the news, and I am the beneficiary for having leapt. Friendship and connection with you have brought sweetness to my tired soul. My life is infinitely better for having you in it. And, if you survive all this, I promise we will find a way to meet, and grab onto life with every hug.

Radha.