A practical way into rights-based work
If the last few years have taught me anything, it is this:
Many people care about what’s happening. They care about their communities and about other people’s dignity and safety. And they care about what authoritarianism can look like in ordinary life, whether they call it that yet or not (Watch this Kettering Foundation video: Authoritarianism Isn’t Coming. It’s Here.).
As many of us know, caring alone is not enough; knowing how to act matters, too (this is where many people get stuck). That is also part of why this blog is evolving.
Nix the assumptions
Some people assume that if they are not out in the streets, leading chants, or publicly calling themselves activists, then they are not really helping.
Others assume they need a law degree, a public policy background, or an official title before they can contribute to rights-based work in a meaningful way.
That kind of thinking keeps too many people silent.
At least in the U.S., our system(s) often reward that silence. It also makes participation harder for many people, especially when time, money, power, and access are unevenly distributed. Here are two examples: the Relative Power Theory and the Resource Model of Political Participation.
To help counteract silence, knowing the difference between sharing legal information and giving legal advice is a good starting point. It’s also good to know (and understand) that we “have the right to share truthful, lawfully obtained information about law enforcement and tell people about their legal rights”: https://www.aclu.org/know-your-rights/talking-to-people-about-their-rights
Mind the narrative
You also do not have to call yourself an activist to defend rights. You do not have to become a different person first.
A lot of the most important work happens through people’s existing roles, skills, and relationships. That is what I keep seeing across sectors, and also part of what I mean by building infrastructure for action.
For example, a healthcare worker can protect patient dignity, an educator can help people connect the dots, or a communications specialist can make complexity easier to understand.
None of that work is small.
Structure matters, and so does misunderstanding it
One of the biggest misunderstandings I see in rights-based work, or even in movement-building, is this: people focus on the visible parts and overlook the infrastructure underneath.
Someone may notice the speaker but not the speechwriter. You might notice the action but not the multiple trainings and correspondences that went into piecing everything together.
And because much of this work is voluntary, people do not always have the same time, detail, or capacity to give. Some don’t even take it as seriously because they aren’t getting paid. Again, think about unequal access to resources, time, and participation (the above links to the Relative Power Theory and the Resource Model of Political Participation explore this further).
That structure matters. A lot.
Start where you already are to defend rights
If you’ve been asking, “What can I even do?” my answer is simple: don’t start by trying to do everything and realize that no single effort will solve the problem.
Start with your lane, with what you already know how to do, and where your actual skills intersect with real needs.
The key, when you don’t know where to begin, is to begin anyway. If friends want to help too, ask them. Confidence grows when people move together (if you have been to a rally, march, or protest, this will resonate).
Know that democracy isn’t glamorous (just like our day jobs)
That may sound less glamorous than people expect, but it is more realistic. A lot of this work looks ordinary before it is visible.
So, what does this look like in practice?
- Communications workers can help people better understand what is happening without flattening it into panic, nonsense, or empty slogans.
- Healthcare employees can protect patient privacy and dignity while helping patients understand their options before fear takes over.
- Teachers help people to ask better questions, observe patterns, and understand that rights do not disappear just because someone tries to blur the language around them.
- Technology workers can make sure the tools they build, recommend, or maintain do not create more surveillance, confusion, exclusion, or dependency.
- Nonprofit workers can strengthen processes, training, and internal systems so organizations can move when they need to move.
- Project managers can help people prioritize, coordinate, document, and act in ways that are sustainable instead of reactive.
- Volunteers can share useful information and help people connect.
All of this is real work, and it often makes the more visible work possible.
Let’s reframe what helping looks like
Part of the problem is that helping gets framed too narrowly. More specifically, it gets framed as a public performance, as a constant need to show urgency, or as the need to say all the right things (in all the right ways) all the time.
That is not only exhausting but incomplete. It’s also not sustainable from a human standpoint. Helpful work that moves the needle is not always loud. Frequently, it is not, but don’t mistake that for silence (I’ll get to that in a moment). It doesn’t need to be loud, because sometimes it is logistical, administrative, relational, or technical. Sometimes it is making something clearer, safer, or easier to use, or noticing a risk before it spreads. Other times, it is documenting what is happening (when others want confusion to do the work for them). Sound familiar, constitutional observers?
If none of that (nonviolently) strikes a chord, think of it this way. Think back to that feeling we get when something is “off” or not clear during a meeting, but no one says it. Then, out of the blue, someone finally asks the obvious question (that you wanted to ask, too), and the whole room exhales.
That matters too.
You already have the power to defend rights
In my own work, I keep coming back to the same idea: People need structures that help them move. I wrote more about the stakes underneath that idea in what happens when weak systems push the burden downward.
We need information that we can actually use and systems that do not quietly, or now blatantly, block us. We need communications and materials that help us understand what’s truly at stake. Ultimately, we need the infrastructure to support action (rather than merely describe the need for it) that helps us defend rights from where we already are.
That is one reason I care so much about the work I do.
I’m not interested in helping people perform concern, but I am interested in helping people act more clearly, ethically, and effectively from where they already are.
That does not mean staying in your comfort zone, but it does mean that your existing role may already hold more power than you think.
So, circling back, you do not need a brand-new identity. You just might need a clearer sense of how your current one applies.
A practical way in
A lot of people know something is wrong. They can feel it. However, many still do not know where they fit. And that makes sense.
Some folks are overwhelmed by the scale of what is happening and are afraid of saying the wrong thing. Some are just exhausted. Others feel that they do not know enough yet.
For example, while growing up in the Rust Belt, I was taught (professionally and culturally) that staying neutral, polished, or quiet is the safest option. Over time, I learned that safety and silence are not the same thing. And neutrality does not stop harm from moving nor does it defend our rights.
That is why I think people need a more practical way into this work. They don’t need a purity test, a branding exercise, or pressure to become the loudest person in the room.
Instead, they need a clearer path rooted in actual skills, actual roles, actual responsibilities, and actual communities.
Why cross-sector work matters
This is also why I think cross-sector work matters so much.
None of the fields I mentioned above will solve this on its own, but each of those spaces contains people who can do something meaningful.
And when those efforts connect, the impact compounds. I have seen that while helping to build The Firewall Network.
People who participate often stop feeling so isolated in their concerns. They realize they are not the only ones paying attention. They begin to see that their role is not irrelevant, that support does not come only from the most visible places, and that structure, coordination, and clarity are part of how people protect one another.
So start here
If you are wondering where you fit, here’s my answer: You already have a place in this work. Start using your strengths.
That is not because every role is the same, nor because every skill applies in the same way. It is because defending rights is not only about public declaration. It is also about what you protect, what you clarify, what you build, what you refuse to normalize, and how you help other people move.
That is true whether you call yourself an activist or not.
The label is not the point.
The point is whether what you do helps defend dignity, reduce harm, improve access, protect truth, and strengthen the conditions people need to act. That is the work, and there is more than one way to do it.
If you are trying to figure out where to begin, start with where you are and what you care about most.