Last Friday morning, I went down to the Philadelphia ICE office to support the Interfaith Clergy Coalition, which has been organizing weekly vigils there. I found them where I expected, on the sidewalk holding a special prayer vigil for Good Friday.
It turned out that another group I support, No ICE Philly, was around the corner a few yards away, holding a civil disobedience action in the ICE driveway. Although both groups have been protesting the abuses of power by ICE, their approaches have been markedly different, as were their plans for Friday morning. As both actions progressed, I was deeply moved to see the ways they eventually converged.
To explain what happened and why I found it so beautiful, I have to start with a theory called the Four Roles of Social Change, which some of you have heard me talk about over the years. Of course, there are many ways to make a difference and different tools for naming them. (Here is a piece I recently wrote on Three Things Coaches Need to Understand to Maximize their Impact in These Times.)
What I like about the Four Roles framework is 1) that it emerged from research on what real historical movements have done to be successful, and 2) it clarifies how different roles relate to those in power, which feels especially important in these times of rising authoritarianism. Here’s a recap of the Helper, Advocate, Organizer, and Rebel roles, along with what I’m noticing about the shifts happening among those opposing ICE:
Helpers generally seek to alleviate a problem without necessarily engaging the power-holders who are causing the problem. In terms of immigration, they are the organizations and individuals providing direct aid to immigrants, including legal support, food aid, and accompaniment. While the helper role is often seen as low risk, it becomes risker when power-holders decide that providing aid is subversive. For example, in Minneapolis, ICE agents started stalking volunteers who were trying to deliver food to their immigrant neighbors. Such harassment, and the experience of witnessing people’s suffering firsthand, can motivate helpers to start challenging power more directly even as they continue working to alleviate suffering.
Advocates seek to persuade those in power. These days many are using tools like 5 Calls to make their messages to their representatives more frequent. In the face of leaders who seem beyond persuasion, some are shifting tactics. Indivisible was founded by former Congressional aids, who after Trump’s first election, trained people to lobby more effectively.
This Trump term, the leaders of Indivisible are acting as Organizers, focused on bringing people together in huge No Kings protests. On the local level, the leaders of the Interfaith Clergy Coalition in Philly are also organizers, focused on mobilizing people of faith and open to using a variety of tactics, but moving at the pace of their people.
Rebels challenge power directly, often by interrupting an injustice, as the No Ice Philly action interrupted ICE’s operations by blocking its driveway. It was actually No ICE Philly’s fourth civil disobedience action in that location (that I know of). Two featured rebel clergy (with some overlap with the Interfaith Clergy Coalition). Earlier in the week, I’d seen footage of Homeland Security pushing people in religious garb before arresting them. Because they were in the driveway, which counts as federal property, the clergy received fines ten times what Philadelphia protesters usually receive. Still, No ICE Philly was back in the driveway on Good Friday with a different group of volunteers.
This phots by No ICE Philly. All others by me.
A few days earlier, I heard someone who mostly plays the helper role accuse rebels of being attention seekers motivated by their egos. This felt unfair and got me thinking about the ways I’ve seen ego show up in people across all of the four roles. I suspect it’s just human to want respect and credit for our work. In these times, we may feel anxious for reassurance that we’re making a difference. But these understandable feelings can become toxic when the desire for recognition drives our actions, whatever type of action we are taking. We all need to look out for our egos.
Resentment is also toxic. I can imagine helpers, who often labor in anonymity, feeling overlooked by the media attention sometimes given to rebels. Rebels, in turn, can feel resentful of the large donations flowing into more mainstream groups like Indivisible. In doing research for my book Common Ground, I heard many stories of resentment fueled by competition for resources. Resentment, of course, makes it harder for people to collaborate, which is essential when taking on fossil fuel companies or authoritarians, both of whom specialize in divide and conquer tactics.
History teaches that we need people playing all of the roles, preferably in balance and symbiosis. When we’re at our best, we honor each other in ways that make all of us stronger. That was my experience Friday morning, when the vigil ended with its participants walking closer to the No ICE Philly members, who by this time had laid down in the street to await arrest by Philadelphia police.
While the crowd sang, some of the clergy walked among those on the ground, offering words of encouragement, which I found so moving that I didn’t think to take a photo of the scene. In trainings we usually encourage a clear delineation between those willing to risk arrest and those not intending to take that risk. In this case, the brief blurring of the lines between the groups felt like it strengthened both. After the clergy stepped back and the police moved in, the singing continued until the police vans were full.
I later wondered if the arrestees found these religious expressions welcome and was glad to hear that they did. It’s an important thing to check, especially for Christians whose prayers may be fraught in spaces where people have been hurt by weaponized Christianity. I was especially aware of this during the Line 3 pipeline resistance, where the history of colonization and forced religious conversion were intertwined for many Ojibwa water protectors. In Philadelphia, many of the clergy taking action have been rabbis, but less so on Good Friday, when Christian prayers predominated, with a Passover action at ICE planned for Monday.
Later on Good Friday, I came back to ICE for a third event, this one led by Roman Catholics commemorating the crucifixion of Jesus. Hundreds of people processed slowly from the ICE office to the cathedral, pausing along the way for a ritual called “the stations of the cross,” where Jesus’ experience of state violence was compared to that of immigrants dying in detention today, whose names were held up on small crosses.
There were many nuns in the crowd, some who are usually helpers and others who are usually advocates. Being less risky than the earlier civil disobedience action, the procession included many children and many more people who speak Spanish, the language of some of the prayers and songs. Lasting over two hours, the procession was clearly moving to many people who paused during rush hour to watch us pass.
Whether it’s a long walk, people risking arrest, or some other way of expressing our commitment to change, there is something important about the work of this time being seen, so it can move and encourage others–even if being seen isn’t the only point. It’s a tension I feel when talking about my own work (and ongoing travel for my book tour). I appreciate seeing the ways so many others are showing up and the moments when our threads weave together into a stronger cord.
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