Activism Is the Rent I Pay for Living on This Planet
Alice Walker once said, “Activism is the rent we pay for living on the planet.” I understand her words intimately — not because I have suffered oppression, but because I have inherited power.
Privilege is a loaded word, often misunderstood. What we call privilege is, at its core, power — power that was not earned but inherited through the structures of society. It is not a personal achievement; it is a societal imbalance. And with that power comes responsibility — not the responsibility of a savior, but the responsibility of an ethical participant in the world.
I am a white, able-bodied, cisgender, heterosexual, neurotypical, English-speaking, university-educated, Judeo-Christian-raised man with birthright citizenship. These identities have given me access, safety, and opportunities that others have been denied. But my power does not make me superior — it makes me responsible.
The danger is in thinking about responsibility in terms of superiority. The White Man’s Burden, Rudyard Kipling’s infamous poem, was written to justify imperialism as a noble duty, a moral obligation of the powerful to “civilize” those they oppressed. That is not the kind of responsibility I speak of. I do not carry these responsibilities because I am somehow more fit to lead or teach — I carry them because the structures that benefit me have denied or taken power from others. I did not earn my advantages; I was born into them. The only ethical response is to use them in service of justice.
For a long time, I resisted this idea. I wanted to believe that true privilege could never come at another’s expense — that if my position in life harmed someone else, then it was not really a privilege at all, but a distortion of justice. From a Platonic perspective, no true good can come from harming others. But I was missing the bigger picture. It is not just about my personal morality — it is about systemic power. It is not enough for me to be kind in my personal interactions if I allow the structures that empower me to continue oppressing others.
This is where Ubuntu becomes crucial. The African philosophy of Ubuntu — “I am because we are” — reminds us that our well-being is tied to the well-being of others. If my power comes at the expense of others, then my humanity is incomplete. Justice is not about taking power away from one group and giving it to another — it is about ensuring that power is shared, that dignity is upheld, and that everyone has the opportunities they deserve.
Alice Walker’s words remind me that activism is not an act of charity — it is a duty. If I do not fight for women, I enable their oppression. If I do not stand against racism, I uphold it. If I do not challenge nationalism, I let it fester. If I do not resist homophobia, I contribute to its harm. If I do not acknowledge the power I have inherited and work to dismantle the injustices that sustain it, I am complicit in their continuation.
At the same time, I have come to see that activism itself is a privilege of the highest order. It is not just something I must do — it is something I get to do. The ultimate goal is to raise one’s consciousness to the point where working toward social justice is not seen as a burden, but as the most meaningful use of one’s life.
To fight for justice is to participate in the healing of the world. It is an opportunity to align one’s actions with one’s highest values, to live not just on this planet but with it, to stand alongside our fellow human beings in the struggle for dignity and equality.
As Archbishop Desmond Tutu so wisely said, “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.”
There is no neutral ground. No safe distance from the struggle. No sidelines to sit on. We are all part of this world together, and the only real question is: Are we using our power to create justice, or are we allowing injustice to continue?
For me, the choice is clear. Ubuntu demands that I act. Activism is the rent I pay. And I intend to keep paying — not out of obligation, but out of the deep recognition that this is the highest privilege of all.
~ George Cassidy Payne is a writer, advocate, and passionate social justice advocate committed to challenging the structural inequities of our society. Drawing from personal experience and philosophical insight, he explores the responsibilities and privileges we inherit through the systems that shape our world. With a background in philosophy and crisis counseling, Payne is dedicated to creating a more equitable and compassionate society by acknowledging the power we hold and using it to uplift others.
Excellent article