Across the country, collaboratives are responding in real time to the impact that deliberate efforts to dismantle hard-won rights and protections are having on the systems, conditions, and relationships that sustain communities. Attempts to dictate whose safety matters, whose voices are heard, and who belongs and can participate do not happen in a vacuum. The consequences of these attacks on rights reverberate through our communities, threatening our collective well-being. In response, residents, organizers, and collaborative leaders are mobilizing to protect those most vulnerable, even as conditions continue to shift rapidly.
The harm being felt in our communities also lands on an individual level. While we may not all be experiencing this moment in the same way, none of us escape it. Identity, power, and history influence who we are and how we experience the world. For those long marginalized, the weight of this moment is heavier and compounded by the toll of longstanding exclusion and denial of dignity. Others may now be feeling the weight more acutely, as the stakes become more visible in their own lives, families, and communities.
Even within the same community or identity groups, our experiences can differ based on context and lived experience. And who we are and what we carry show up in our collaborative work. It can shape how we see each other, how we are in relationship with one another, and the perceptions we hold and the assumptions we make.
When the pace of the work doesn’t relent, it’s not just our capacity to do “the work” that gets strained. It’s our ability to notice what’s unfolding relationally: the misreads, the missed cues, the meaning people are making in silence.
What might seem like disengagement could actually be fatigue.
What might look like avoidance could be fear.
What might feel like control could be someone trying to stay steady in the face of instability.
All of this is asking us to recognize that responding to the urgency of now cannot be just about a shift in strategy. Relational recalibration is necessary.The call is to acknowledge, not just what’s happening around us, but what’s unfolding between us.
I use the word recalibrate intentionally. Unlike realign or reground, which suggest returning to a fixed point, recalibrating reflects the ongoing adjustments we make in response to shifting contexts, increasing pressures, and the growing weight of what people carry. It’s not about getting it right once, but staying responsive to evolving needs. What allowed people to show up six months ago might not be what they need now. Conditions have changed.
When we are living through drastically changing conditions and still find ways to honor individual needs, we make it possible for people to voice what they’re holding. For some, that might mean acknowledging the weight of exhaustion or harm. For others, it might be a moment to step in and carry what another person can’t hold alone. This isn’t about division between those who are struggling and those who are strong. It’s about creating a space where authenticity is welcomed,and where capacity, strengths, and limitations are honored. It’s about seeing clearly that we’re navigating different realities and making space for that truth, even when it feels uncomfortable.
Recalibration starts with naming what’s present.
I offer these questions as a way to be attuned to where you are:
- Where do you feel most steady right now and where might you need someone to hold space with or for you?
- What rhythms or ways of working would support you at this moment?
- What are you carrying right now, and how is it shaping how you show up?
- What are you holding back that might need to be named or released?
- What are you afraid might happen if you stop pushing through?
- Where might we be misreading each other? What assumptions could be shaping our interpretations?
- Where do you feel strongest and what are you ready or able to contribute to this group right now?
Not everyone will have the capacity to engage in unpacking what they are carrying. That’s okay. These questions aren’t demands; they are doorways to walk through when ready.
These prompts aren’t a formula. They can be tried on collectively or individually as we notice shifts in our group dynamic or with individuals in the space.
They’re also not neutral. The questions we choose to ask can surface whose realities are shaping the norms in the room, who gets to step forward, who gets to step back, and where the weight is being unevenly held. They push against power imbalances that often go unnamed in collective work.
In a climate where division is stoked and connection undermined, this practice itself is an act of resistance against isolation, assumption, and the silencing of people’s realities.
These aren’t one-off conversations. They help build the habits that make the relationships that carry us forward possible. Small shifts, practiced consistently, can reshape what’s possible.
