What Sustains Us: Preparing Ourselves for What’s Next
As 2024 draws to a close, many of us are processing what has been a challenging year — a year that has been full of grief, frustration, anger, and confusion, as well as joy, hope, resilience, and love.
In this moment, preparing ourselves for 2025 feels oftentimes impossible, but also necessary. For the Kataly team, as we go into our holiday break (our offices will be closed from December 23-January 6), we are reflecting on what is giving us hope, inspiring us, and sustaining us as we enter the new year.
Read our reflections below.
Also — Kataly’s annual webinar, State of the Spend Out, where we share an overview of our grantmaking and investments in 2024, highlights from our program areas, and what is ahead for Kataly will be happening on Thursday, February 27 from 10–11:30 am PT. Save the date and RSVP here.
I recently had the opportunity to listen to one of Kataly’s grantees, Konda Mason of Jubilee Justice, speak at an event. In her eloquent way with words, Konda detailed that while this moment in our country and around the world might be hard for those that stand for justice and peace, the truth is that for centuries some of us have been working to undo the unjust systems that harm and oppress us.
What we are witnessing on a global level is that those very same systems of facism, authoritarianism, and even late stage capitalism are crumbling on their own under the weight of their own greed and oppression. In recognizing the truth in Konda’s analysis I realized that this means that we can all now focus our energy on what we want to build, and ground ourselves in the communal relationships that create a strong foundation for establishing and reclaiming the systems, cultures, and norms that we want for a free and liberated world going forward. I’m curious to see what we are able to build in the next four years that can sustain beyond and apart from any election cycle or political party.
— Nwamaka Agbo, CEO and Managing Director of the Restorative Economies Fund
I’m reading Earth Doula by Queen Hollins, who leads Mindfulness and Healing Justice grantee partner, Earthlodge Center for Transformation. This book is a reminder and how-to for us to return to our relationship with nature, plants and Mother Earth. In these days when it feels like there is a lot of chaotic spinning and anxiety in the human world, I’m finding some peace in trying to ground in nature. How can I learn from the trees, staying flexible in the coming storms, but still standing strong and providing shelter for my family and community?
— Donna Bransford, Senior Program Officer for Mindfulness and Healing Justice
This year I had the immense privilege of meeting Twinkle Borge, the village leader of Pu’uhonua O Waianae. When I think of what this moment is asking of us, I think about Twinkle’s leadership: meeting people on their worst day with dignity and care, giving everything you have over and over with the faith that you will receive what you need, understanding sovereignty not as something to be demanded from others but to embody and practice. Now an ancestor, Twinkle’s legacy and aloha spirit lives on through all the beings she has poured into.
— Iris Garcia, Program Officer for Mindfulness and Healing Justice
I recently read Dear America, a book by Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Jose Antonio Vargas, who aptly redefined the meaning of citizenship. He wrote, “Citizenship is showing up. Citizenship is using your voice while making sure you hear other people around you. Citizenship is how you live your life.” As I enter 2025, I aim to embody this vision by showing up for myself and others, even in uncertainty. Vargas reminds me that citizenship is more than a legal status — it’s a practice of empathy, purpose, and meaningful action. It’s a call to live with intention, to uplift others while staying true to oneself.
— Hans How, Integrated Capital Officer
Amidst terrain that is changing under our feet every day, social movements are stepping to this moment with an eye to building peoples’ capacity to govern in ways that are in concert with the earth (including human communities) rather than against it.
This reminds me of the principle “smallest effort for greatest effect” that I’ve learned from permaculture as well as martial arts practices like Aikido. It is also in line with many indigenous lifeways that seek to apply human intention and action in ways that work with the rest of the living world rather than applying massive amounts of energy to extract more from the land than returning.
Learning about how mushrooms turn crisis into opportunity, and death into new life in ways humans rarely even notice, is giving me both joy and grounding (quite literally).
“Crisis equal opportunities for fungi, as they present a situation in which to expand on their collaborations and therefore, increase symbiosis. In times of crisis, fungi demonstrate how dominant, centralized, highly technological or exploitative power dynamics and patterns could, and should, be challenged.” (From “Lets Become Fungal! Myelium Teachings and the Arts”)
Recent political attacks have been a reminder that social movements formed 501c3s as one vehicle to build a new world, but c3s were never meant to be the only vehicle. Now, like a mycelium network, the vast array of individuals who make up movements — grassroots organizers, community leaders, organizational development coaches, funders, tech security consultants, movement lawyers, accountants, healers, spiritual guides, group facilitators, and more — are popping up to play overlapping and complementary roles in a way that can restore the principle that governance should take place at the smallest scale of impact.
This isn’t new. It’s as old as life. And though it can feel destabilizing, let’s remember that we can be the very change that helps usher in new worlds where everyone’s work and contributions are valued. Where the abundance of life is held as sacred and shared equitably. Where joy flourishes deep in the soil popping up in beautiful ways we couldn’t yet imagine.
—Michelle Mascarenhas, Senior Program Officer for the Environmental Justice Resourcing Collective
Honestly, I’m not feeling particularly inspired right now. Since the election, I’ve been in a dark place, but I find joy in my partner, family, and friends. My brilliant and beloved Soror Nikki Giovanni died this week, and I’ve seen numerous posts about her, and this speech by her fortifies me. It’s long, so I’ll paraphrase: “The only people who can go into space are black women. They drag us over here; we get sold by our African ancestors. We get purchased by our European ancestors. We get purchased again by our American ancestors. We have babies. We have whatever it is they give us, and we name them, and we love them. So you know, when we get to Mars, and there is some Martian up there, they will do the same thing. We are going to find ourselves pregnant with some little Martian. We will rub his little head and tell them, “you will be alright because that’s what black women do. We’re trying to teach that to the world, but the world ain’t listening. It’s a wonderful thing to be a black woman. I’m going to recommend it.”
— Dana Mason, Director of Operations
I lost my best friend around the time of the election, and I found myself grieving on two fronts. As I walked through my city, the weight of sadness was palpable; it was in the faces of everyone I saw. The day after the election, waiters, baristas, and shop workers echoed the same sentiment: ‘Sad day, isn’t it?’ We were all mourning something.
Through deep reflection, I began to process the pain — both the personal loss of my friend and the disillusionment I felt toward my country. I realized that to move forward, I needed to hold my friends closer. In doing so, I found strength in our unity. As we approach the new year, I’m reminded that this same solidarity will carry us through the challenges ahead. Together, we must stand firm, live boldly, and continue to fight for what we believe in.
— Gabriela McCallister-Castillo, Executive Assistant to the CEO
I read something by the writer Priyanka Mattoo after the election that has stayed with me: “Imminent danger is an actual threat — being scared of an unknown is not.” I am resolving to embody this mindset as we enter 2025 so that I do not let anxiety or fear incapacitate me from standing up for my community, or prevent me from experiencing joy.
— Zaineb Mohammed, Communications Director
In the aftermath of the election, I attended CS Fund + Movement Generation’s seminar “Joy and Grief in Movement Building.” The speakers filled me with so much hope and love, during a week when I needed it the most. One quote that I’ve continued to meditate on was shared by Gopal Dayeneni, and it was offered to him by Omar Barghouti, “Despair is the colonization of the future”. This mantra has gently ushered me from grief to hope, from lament to action, so that I can continue to do my part in building the world I dream of.
— Lindsey Moriguchi Wong, Capacity Building Officer
I am being inspired by our own Larry Yang, who said to me recently, “I choose joy. Because if we let them take our joy they have already won.” So, here’s to anchoring our work for the coming year in love and joy wherever we can find it, nurture it, and share it.
— Regan Pritzker, Board Member
Vicky Osterweil offers a refreshing demystification of organizing in her piece titled, “Let’s Get Started” on her blog called All Cats Are Beautiful. She writes, “There are two secrets about organizing that are not often copped to by activists, professional organizers, self-professed revolutionaries and non-profits…The first secret is that organizing is simple. The second is that you’re probably already doing it.”
I am inspired by this reminder that organizing needn’t be hyper facilitated, professionalized, or even centralized to be grounded in mutual care and to shore up resistance against systemic oppression. When I reflect on how I’ve organized in my community this year, and how my folks have organized me, I feel so excited to build on the relationships, ideas, and resources we are cultivating together for safety and liberation.
I offer a humble celebration of 2024’s nourishing meal trains, mutual aid efforts, emergency preparedness planning, dance parties, art making, direct action, and community dinners. May our autonomous efforts be sustained by love in 2025.
We got this, we got us.
–Danielle Royston-Lopez, Grants Officer
Just the other day I came across an Instagram post by Stacey Abrams that inspired me. In her post, she talked about how some us have opted to take a break from the news and from the world in what she called “internal exile” — a conscious break from the relentless stream of news and global events. I have found myself in that place, needing to step away in order to preserve my own mental and emotional well-being. Her words though, reminded me that we can’t afford to stay in exile and we have to show up even when it feels overwhelming.
Our job, as Stacey said, “…is not simply to survive the next few years. Our job is to win…Our actions may be small, the reactions may be big, and the change may be incremental, but we can still make progress.” At Kataly, we continue to focus on building resilience, internally and within the communities we serve, understanding that the fight for justice and equity is long-term. We have the tools to contribute to meaningful change by supporting local leaders, amplifying voices, and supporting community-driven solutions.
As we enter 2025, I’m inspired to continue to show up, even when it feels really hard. The stakes are too high to step away. This new year brings an opportunity to push forward and act with purpose, knowing that our actions are part of a larger movement toward justice and collective liberation.
— Joleen Ruffin, Chief Financial and Operations Officer
It is difficult to put words to the state of my well-being. Every day my heart breaks again as I try and keep up with the news of the ongoing genocide of my people. When the feeling of despair becomes overwhelming, I hear James Baldwin’s voice saying: “I can’t be a pessimist, because I’m alive. To be a pessimist means that you have agreed that human life is an academic matter. So, I’m forced to be an optimist. I’m forced to believe that we can survive whatever we must survive.” And I go on.
— Lina Shalabi, Program Officer for the Restorative Economies Fund
I was recently reminded of Bayo Akomolafe’s essay “A Slower Urgency,” and it has been grounding for me. His point is a simple and beautiful gem worth remembering in these treacherous and undoubtedly urgent times: “in ‘hurrying up’ all the time, we often lose sight of the abundance of resources that might help us meet today’s most challenging crises.”
— Jocelyn Wong, Director of Capacity Building
