Where is the care in the work we're doing? By Dr Furaha Asani

How do we go beyond the mere theory of ‘care’ to actually materialise accountable care cultures in the sector?

“Revolution begins in the kitchen sink”, read the poster in the kitchen of the community hub I visited recently. The saying originates from a 1919 poster from the Industrial Workers of the World (IWW), highlighting the burden of domestic labour. The saying goes: “Men and Boys! Revolution begins in the Sink! Only when men take full responsibility for their share of the cooking, the cleaning, and the washing up…only then can they join with women, and together build a new world!!!”

As I took the poster in, I couldn't help but think: what would it feel like for the brilliant folks working in the hub, immersed in community-based organising, to not have to return to a full sink of dirty mugs after all the visitors they had taken care of had gone home? 

I washed my mug and a couple others that had been left to the side of the sink, and ruminated on the big and little things we do (or don’t do) that demonstrate care (and the lack thereof) towards one another.

What does it mean to be careful?

The concepts of ‘care’ and ‘care practices’ are well embedded in strategy across organising spaces where people plan towards equitable futures. But what does it mean? I define care in this context as associated practices, behaviours and actions that demonstrate consideration, advocate for and uphold dignity, nurture ease, and even share loads in some cases- such as domestic and emotional labour amongst others.

More and more, we are encountering renewed interest about this specific kind of care across this interdisciplinary sector that overlaps organising, strategising for equitable futures, participatory action research, philanthropy, and funding. And just as with all other hot topics that eventually get watered down as they circle the zeitgeist’s drain (think ‘EDI’), our understanding and practice of care must be intentional, informed, and consistent. It must be protected from becoming yet another buzzword easily misappropriated as a conspicuous attraction for funding and career opportunities (again, think ‘EDI’). 

Care needs to be anchored in meaning, material implication, and accountability. I state this as  I am in the very same landscape, thinking (or at least attempting to) about what liberation looks like on a granular, every day level. Navigating the tensions that come with untangling my complicity in various systems, engaging with capitalism  to pay my bills and stay alive, whilst also trying to remain conscious and awake to what is going on. 

But importantly, my interest in the subject of care comes from two places: firstly, experiences of being on the receiving end of a lack of care in spaces where radical politics of care were publicly espoused. And secondly, from hearing too many stories from other people in this sector who’ve faced the same. Perhaps a cheeky third point to squeeze in is that while carefully warning one another about the ‘who’, ‘how’, and ‘what’ is definitely effective, water cooler reconnaissance (otherwise known as ‘gossip’) should not be the primary mechanism we have to resort to in order to gather the information we need to preemptively structure safety for ourselves. Especially not in the absence of any meaningful accountability.

Accountable care 

We might be tempted to think that those of us within this movement towards the third horizon have a working understanding and practice of accountability as it pertains to our care praxis more so than ‘others out there’. Anecdotally, I’ve lived, witnessed, and heard of enough cases to know that the horrors persist amongst us and we are all at risk of reproducing the very same problematic and harmful dynamics that can be found anywhere else. In fact, at every given moment in time we are dealing with- as Sahibzada Mayed posits- confronting the coloniser within whilst navigating a confusing and wicked world on the outside. Mayed challenges us, as part of this confrontation, to unlearn dominant narratives. And it is this active and continuous unlearning that I’m deeply invested in, complemented by the new learnings that will plug the gaps left by the bits we discard. 

And as we learn on an individual and collective level, what accountability measures can we put in place to ensure that an infrastructure of care goes beyond mere words in our spaces? What does the action of careful praxis and accountability look like in the sector?

Dr Kendra Okposo describes accountability as “a personal and collective decision made every day to own outcomes, follow through on commitments, and address mistakes with integrity, even when circumstances shift and success isn’t guaranteed.” Importantly, Dr Okposo adds, “people have to choose it for themselves” and the surrounding conditions “must encourage the mindsets and mechanisms that make accountability an authentic, self-driven choice.” I read a creative provocation within this definition; that accountability, and our understanding of it, isn’t stagnant but ever-evolving. And for accountability to be tangible requires personal and collective buy-in. One of either of these, on the personal or collective level, has consistently been missing whenever I’ve experienced a significant lack of care in any space. And the same goes for the stories I’ve heard.

Materially, something happens to one’s ability to optimally be, belong, function, and freedom dream when disillusionment takes hold after you realise that ‘care’ is only present as rhetoric. Freedom dreaming requires interdependence, which in turn requires trust. A lack of care in practice, and only present in theory and pathos, will sap any nourishment for trust in our organising spaces.

And yes, theory is forever useful but if it’s not put into practice then we’re at risk of simply circling back to neoliberalism. 

An invitation to ‘think with an abundance mindset’ is not a demonstration of considered care when offered as the sole solution to anyone living in financial precarity. A portfolio of ‘care-centred’ work is nothing more than a vanity project if scores of harmed collaborators and participants are left in its wake. And our rest is not revolutionary if it comes at the expense of exploiting those even worse off than us, and leaving them over-burdened. That isn’t even rest. We’re all tired and can take turns- that’s equity; rest being the norm, and not merely being snatched in pockets here and there, is part and parcel of liberation.

We can produce all of the beautiful reports, slide and card decks, and podcasts that detail deeply informative frameworks and analyses about care and what care practice should be. But if we don’t embody it ourselves, then what is all of this for? A praxis of care requires accountability- internal, and externally..

If the problem lands with a material impact, so too must the solutions

What does accountable care look like? 

One useful case study comes from the Digital Freedom Fund and European Digital Rights, who set out to co-create a decolonising programme for the digital rights field. An account of this participatory project details how organisers responded to critique from participants as and when it arose, adapting plans towards repair and continuation. 

Notably, organisers implemented a pause in their process to conduct one-to-one consultations, reflecting on structure, and reconfiguring the design process. Communication as part of the process towards accountable care required the team to nurture surrounding conditions and infrastructure that created collective checkpoints. 

“Welcoming the conflict wasn’t easy but taking in the criticisms instead of dismissing them was a pivotal moment in the process.”

A nuanced approach that invested capacity and resource into resolution enabled forward movement. Centring joy, creativity, and connection also supported progress.

The team also spoke candidly about a “harmful racist incident” that occurred on the very same day after they had enjoyed building collective enthusiasm in-person. They reported anchoring themselves in their commitment to their beliefs, prioritising community care, and making sure their movements were as closely aligned as possible to the principles of their programmes.

“It became clear that the deeper one immerses themselves in an anti-colonial ethos, the more unbearable the violence of our colonial reality becomes. Engaging truly with anti-colonial dreaming means realising all that is intolerable about what is present now – again, and again, and again.”

Accountable care must include reckoning with self iteratively- on an individual and collective level; embodying a continuous learning and unlearning. Are we doing this in our work and working groups? And are we doing it effectively?

In Conclusion: the power of bearing witness

Accountable care is careful design, building trust, understanding that interdependence is iterative, proactively building accountable communities, contracting care and safeguarding relational tissue, enacting repair, sharing responsibly about all of these, and bearing witness for one another.

I return to the water cooler, where we tend to share our thoughts, hottakes, and analyses with radical candour; there is power in exchanging stories about our mistakes, evolution, and how much we don’t know. And while our “beautiful reports, slide and card decks, and podcasts” might not always have extensive reach, it is still important that we capture aspects of our collective growth for those who need them to be able to find them.