We Brought an Atheist Chaplain to Netroots to Comfort Burnt Out Activists And this is how it went
Photo by Product School on Unsplash You’ve maybe heard of Netroots Nation before. It’s an annual conference for progressive activists – think CPAC, but for people who actually want to help others. These are folks committed to fighting and organizing against oligarchy, Christian Nationalism, and the authoritarian, tyrannical power grabs of the current administration.
Every year for the past twenty years, thousands of activists from across the nation have convened at Netroots to help shape the future of progressive activism in the U.S. While AHA has had a presence at Netroots in the past, building relationships and bridges within the larger progressive movement, we decided to show up a little differently this year.
With the support of D.S. Moss, an atheist and humanist chaplain, we arrived at Netroots with tissues in hand, ready to provide 1:1 emotional support sessions for attendees who were feeling burnt out and demoralized. We advertised it as “spiritual triage,” a safe space to talk about the ennui, angst, whatever they were dealing with, outside of the religious and political contexts they were maybe accustomed to.
We’ll be honest – things were slow to start. It seemed like people were excited to see us showing up with resources in hand, but didn’t see themselves as having a need for humanism.
With everyone who came to our table, we started the conversation with a simple question: do you consider yourself a humanist? Most people replied with something to the effect of, “well, I’m not sure! How do you define humanism?” And this is where the conversations got interesting.
We’d explain that humanism is a belief in human dignity and potential, that it’s a life philosophy that attempts – like a religion – to answer life’s toughest questions. How to approach death. How to raise kind, compassionate children. Unlike theistic religions, humanism’s foundation for answering those questions is grounded in reason and science, no invisible hands or divine authority required.
We’d explain that humanists believe the higher power we’re searching for is us. Our common humanity. That through working together, we have the tools and power to build the humane future we want to live in.
Once we got our elevator pitch in, nearly everybody who spoke with us agreed – they’re a humanist!
Identifying as a humanist was just one “leap of faith” we asked of attendees. The second, to spend some time talking with a humanist chaplain, was much scarier for many.
It’s not easy to acknowledge and sit with your own hopelessness (or any negative emotion, for that matter). And in the dozens of private conversations our chaplain had with attendees, the theme was consistent: people feel like humanity is at a cliff. How do you continue to have faith in humanity when the state of the world feels so dire?
Our chaplain stressed that “negative” emotions like doubt are value-neutral and not reflective of individual shortcomings. Where there’s doubt, there’s also hope; the two exist at the same time. Devin encouraged folks to be at peace with their doubt, and feel comfortable sitting with doubt as a normal feeling to have in a challenging situation – not a personal failing.
We also addressed the more personal things people had going on. How to take care of yourself when you always have to be “on” for work. How to not feel overwhelmed when your organization doesn’t have the resources to be successful.
Once they spent some time talking to our chaplain, most people opened up and were profusely grateful for the time they got to spend with us. Someone even told us that our offering of chaplain services was the most helpful part of the conference for them. We got feedback that people appreciated having a space to be vulnerable amidst all the networking and transactional conversations one endures at a conference like Netroots. And we think that epitomizes humanists perfectly: disruptive, nonjudgmental, and people-focussed.
We learned a lot. After three days of talking to activists who are searching for answers outside of the institutions they’ve historically relied on, we felt even more convinced of humanism’s potential to connect with the millions of Americans who are looking for something to believe in. We know the potential is there. And like every successful movement for change, it starts with a small group of activists.
Thanks to everyone who spent some time sharing their humanity with us in New Orleans earlier this month!
