One of the most powerful pieces of agitation I ever received was the reminder that I’m not living in the world I want, and I need to live in the world as it is. At first, I resisted why should I accept injustice, rather than continuously striving for a more utopian vision? But then I realized that merely wishing for a better society doesn’t make it so. We cannot skip steps on the path to liberation, because only by amassing genuine collective power can we shift oppressive systems.
This agitation taught me that we have to do the sometimes unglamorous labor of one-to-one meetings, leadership development, fundraising, political education, and direct action. Over time, that discipline grounded in facing the real conditions around us helps us channel our frustration and hope into tangible strategies that change the political landscape.
I still return to the question, Am I operating in the world as it is, or the world as I wish it would be? Whenever I veer too far into daydreams, I hear that agitation like an echo, reminding me that dreams alone won’t spark real change. And while envisioning a better world is vital, the true magic happens when we harness that vision and face harsh realities head-on. This is precisely where our broader movement often struggles: in chasing quick headlines or urgent crises, we lose sight of the long-haul work needed to build lasting power.
Now under a second Trump administration, the weak state of organizing in many of our communities becomes an even more pressing concern, one that calls for deep reflection and disciplined action if we are to be prepared for the battles ahead.
The Weak State of Organizing
In many communities, there are shining examples of grassroots power at work, whether they take the form of local campaigns that shift policy or volunteers who dedicate countless hours to mobilizing neighbors. These bright spots underscore that people, when organized, can successfully challenge oppressive systems. However, the reality of a second Trump administration reminds us that we cannot rely solely on short-term tactics or bursts of energy. Let his potential return to power signal the urgency of recommitting ourselves to the long game of organizing, one in which we become fully comfortable wielding power on behalf of our communities. This entails not only deepening members’ political analysis, but also investing in staff who are trained, seasoned organizers with real campaign experience. By cultivating disciplined leadership and fostering the capacity to plan and execute strategic actions, we can stand prepared for the trials ahead, building a movement that endures far beyond any single election cycle.
At the same time, I have witnessed a profound fragility in the broader organizing landscape, a fragility that cuts deeper with each election cycle and every time we face a major crisis. The state of organizing is weak because of a lack of rigor and discipline, and this shortcoming becomes more pronounced every time our communities need us most. Rather than invest in the painstaking, day-to-day labor of base building, many groups have leaned heavily on short-term mobilization strategies, focusing on rallies, petitions, or spikes in social media attention. This shift undercuts the core of what makes organizing powerful, because it trades away authentic relationship building, relationships that could hold firm for decades, for quick but fleeting boosts in turnout. In the rush to keep pace with electoral deadlines or headline-grabbing events, there has been a tendency to adopt buzzwords like “relational organizing.” However, these phrases frequently mask a shallower approach, repackaging centuries-old methods that could otherwise be made more potent with real training and institutional support. Instead of focusing our energy on reinforcing tested organizing principles, like community meetings, leadership development, and consistent follow-through, we often chase novelty or trendy digital tools. While innovation can be beneficial, it is no substitute for the bedrock tasks of real organizing, diligently fostering trust, developing leaders who will remain committed long after the spotlight fades, and embedding those leaders in the social fabric of their communities. Without these foundations, many efforts stay transactional, where individuals feel “activated” only for as long as a campaign or viral moment lasts. When the moment ends, the infrastructure needed to sustain ongoing action is nowhere to be found. Repeating this pattern drains our collective capacity and leaves us vulnerable when the next crisis inevitably arrives.
Organizing as a Liberatory Art
At its core, organizing is the art of weaving together a liberated community in which people can live out their values, be connected to a network of significant relationships, and be agitated to summon their collective power and potential. I first caught a glimpse of this deeper sense of organizing through my work with Dennis Jacobsen, a leader within Milwaukee Inner-City Congregations Allied for Hope (MICAH), part of the WISDOM and Gamaliel Network. His guidance reinforced that true organizing extends far beyond quick mobilizations or high-profile demonstrations. Instead, it is a long-haul commitment to nurturing leadership from the ground up, linking personal transformation with broader social change, and anchoring it all in deep relationships. Dennis’s emphasis on discipline, strategic thinking, and relentless follow-through showed me that strong campaigns grow from the values and experiences of the people most affected, and that sustained power requires tending to both the “how” and the “why” of our work.
It is fundamentally about awakening in individuals, and entire communities, a sense of belonging, self-determination, and shared responsibility for shaping the world around them. True organizing does not begin or end with a rally, a hashtag, or a charismatic figure who commands the spotlight. Instead, it centers on constructing a sturdy architecture of engagement that positions ordinary people to stand against oppressive structures. This architecture is built, piece by piece, through the cultivation of trust, the development of shared analysis, and the strategic nurturing of new leaders who will carry the struggle forward. When we lose sight of these deeper practices, we may still call our work “organizing,” but we have strayed from the discipline and craft that grant it the power to transform lives and policies. The political arena, where power is contested and exercised through governance, decision-making, and public policy, demands more than reactive tactics. It requires a comprehensive understanding of how power is wielded, which issues are brought to the table, and how cultural narratives can sustain or challenge the status quo. Without a layered approach that recognizes these dynamics, any push for change can be co-opted, diffused, or rendered superficial. Organizing as a liberatory art resists that diffusion by equipping people with the vision and practical skills to reshape power structures, making it possible for communities to break free from cycles of exploitation and exclusion. By reclaiming this deeper sense of our craft, we remind ourselves that the true work lies in activating everyone’s potential to co-create a world that reflects our collective values.
I was taught you get power through organized people and organized money. While both are important, we cannot forget that it is our job to move people through their self-interest, whether that be our constituencies, our member base, or our potential and current funders.
Power in All Its Forms
Power, in the context of organizing, is not a single, monolithic force. Rather, it is a complex, multi-dimensional concept that emerges differently in various lineages of struggle, from union halls to student-led movements, from civil rights campaigns to local grassroots efforts. Each tradition has honed its own understanding of where power comes from and how it can be leveraged for collective liberation. By studying these diverse experiences, we see that power can be built in workplaces, campuses, neighborhoods, and across entire societies.
Below are just a few ways in which people define power within organizing spaces. Taken together, they reveal the depth and breadth of what it means to transform communities and influence systems:
Power is the ability to act.
Power is access to and control over resources (money, people, institutions, media).
Power comes from the ability of the working class to disrupt the economy.
Power comes from the collective strength of grassroots communities organizing for self-determination and justice.
Power is the moral authority and strategic mobilization of mass movements to transform unjust systems.
Power is the ability of students to influence educational policy, economic justice and social change through organized collective action.
Power is self-determination, community control and the ability to defend and provide for the people outside of oppressive state structures.
Power is the collective strength of workers to bargain, disrupt and transform economic and political conditions through solidarity organizing and direct action.
Whether rooted in today’s labor unions, campus advocacy, or ongoing civil rights efforts, these perspectives on power capture the depth of what organizing can achieve. Together, they show how movements continually evolve, finding new approaches to disrupt unjust systems and empower communities at local, national, and global levels.
They also illuminate different forms of power, including
Economic Power (Controlling What Is Produced, Distributed, And Consumed)
Military Power (The Use Of Force)
Political Power (The Ability To Govern)
Ideological Or Narrative Power (Shaping Worldview)
Solidarity Power (Working Collectively)
Disruptive Power (Causing Social Or Economic Disruption).
Because power is not a single, static entity, the goals of organizing can be equally varied, often centering on the ability to wield power effectively in pursuit of systemic or incremental change. Whether we seek “power over” systems and institutions, “power with” communities through collective mobilization, or “power to” embody individual agency and leadership, a disciplined and strategic approach is necessary to channel this multi-faceted potential. Ultimately, effective organizing demands leader identification and growth, anchored in a shared vision of how best to use and expand power to transform oppressive conditions into structures that enable communities to thrive.
How Power Shows Up in the Political Arena
The political arena refers to the space where power is contested, negotiated, and exercised through governance, decision-making, and public policy. Within this arena, power operates on three distinct levels or “faces.” The First Face, decision-making power, is the most visible: it shows up in formal processes like voting, lobbying, and lawmaking. Here, political power and economic power are especially relevant, as elected officials, lobbyists, and corporate actors influence legislation and budgets that determine how resources are distributed. The Second Face, agenda-setting power, is more subtle: it dictates which issues are allowed to appear in the public discourse. Decisions about which topics get discussed, funded, or legitimized are themselves a form of power, and this links directly to ideological or narrative power, as well as political and economic power. Corporations, financial institutions, and government leaders often exercise this capacity by controlling what research receives funding, which reforms make it to a legislative hearing, and how the media frames public debates. The Third Face, ideological power (the power of perception and thought), delves into shaping beliefs, norms, and collective identity. This includes how education, media, religion, and cultural institutions define societal values. Ideological or narrative power is most apparent here, joined by solidarity and disruptive power when grassroots movements challenge dominant ideas or propose new ways of understanding the world. It is in this third face that internalized oppression and long-standing biases must be confronted, requiring the cultivation of counter-narratives and mass mobilizations capable of shifting cultural norms. In all these faces of power, from the visible acts of legislation to the intangible processes of shaping consciousness, the purpose of organizing remains the same: to harness collective strength in ways that dismantle oppressive structures and build communities where people can thrive.
Six Types of Organizing on the Left
In order to engage the three faces of power in the political arena, different organizations on the Left apply distinct methods and strategies. At least six mainstream types of groups regularly surface in this context, though these do not represent every group working for social change. This overview also does not dismiss the transformative efforts of other approaches, such as mutual aid, worker centers, restorative justice and violence prevention initiatives, or service-based organizing, nor does it account for the multitude of additional models that continue to evolve. Instead, it highlights six common organizational forms that emerge time and again in discussions of progressive campaigns, illustrating how they each contribute to, or sometimes detract from, the broader goal of building a just and equitable society.
Base-Building Organizations: These groups focus on membership recruitment, leadership development, and relationship building, positioning everyday people to hold decision-makers accountable and influence policy.
At Their Best: They cultivate meaningful, long-term connections with community members, invest in leadership pipelines, and foster a strong sense of shared purpose that can withstand political and social upheavals. Members, rather than staff alone, drive, develop, and lead campaigns, ensuring that decisions are grounded in lived experiences and community needs.
At Their Worst: They drift into transactional engagement, viewing people as numbers rather than partners. Without genuine mentorship and consistent outreach, they risk becoming hollow shells where membership is nominal and power is superficial. They might see year-over-year budget expansions accompanied by little to no membership growth, while campaigns remain superficial slogans instead of substantive, on-the-ground efforts. Staff sometimes confuse themselves with the base, relying on shared identities to claim representation without actually mobilizing a significant mass of members or allowing those members to shape the organization’s direction. This weakens the promise of genuine membership-driven leadership.
Activist Groups: Known for rapid response and disruptive tactics, these groups can force agenda-setting changes or highlight overlooked issues.
At Their Best: They harness public attention effectively, energize community members to take immediate action, and keep key issues in the spotlight. Their bold tactics can inspire broader participation and spur long-term movements.
At Their Worst: They focus solely on spectacle without building deeper relationships or sustainable structures. After the media moment passes, momentum often disappears, leaving no lasting capacity to drive ongoing change.
Training and Capacity-Building Organizations: These entities equip individuals and communities with the strategic, technical, or ideological skills needed to navigate and reshape power structures.
At Their Best: They provide hands-on, experiential learning and mentorship that develops seasoned organizers. Graduates leave with concrete skills, strong networks, and the confidence to build and lead new campaigns or organizations.
At Their Worst: They offer only superficial workshops or “crash courses,” failing to address real-world challenges. Participants receive surface-level education that neither deepens their understanding of power nor prepares them to work through conflicts or setbacks. Some even turn training or apps into a product to be sold, no better than Forex trading schemes that promise quick wins but leave people without meaningful, lasting skills.
Political Parties: Often concentrating on electoral outcomes, legislation, and governance, these parties strive to win and maintain power within formal political institutions.
At Their Best: They serve as vehicles for large-scale policy change, translating grassroots demands into legislation. They can mobilize significant voter bases and provide a viable path for local activists to influence national agendas.
At Their Worst: They reduce engagement to a purely electoral transaction, ignoring deeper base-building or community needs. Internal bureaucracy or top-down decision-making can alienate grassroots organizers and breed cynicism among constituents.
Alliances and Coalitions: By unifying various constituencies around shared campaigns or goals, these collaborative networks leverage combined influence to affect public discourse and policy at local, state, or national levels.
At Their Best: They merge diverse perspectives, pool resources, and build power across multiple movements, amplifying each other’s campaigns and achieving broader, systemic victories.
At Their Worst: Conflicting agendas and competition for funding can fracture the coalition. Without clear structures or shared principles, these alliances can devolve into small circles of friends who waste time and resources rather than advancing a cohesive political agenda to secure material gains for communities. They may ultimately dissolve into infighting or become stagnant talking shops with little tangible impact.
Labor Unions: Rooted in collective bargaining and direct action, they wield economic power by disrupting workplaces or industries, while also engaging in electoral politics and broader social justice narratives.
At Their Best: They secure material gains for workers, better wages, safer working conditions, and robust benefits, while fostering solidarity that extends beyond the workplace. Their organizing can catalyze larger social and economic reforms.
At Their Worst: They lapse into insularity, prioritizing narrow interests over broader worker solidarity or community alliances. Rigid hierarchies and lack of democratic participation can reduce rank-and-file empowerment, undermining the union’s transformative potential.
Although each type of organization contributes differently, not all of them practice “organizing” in a disciplined sense that prioritizes deep base building and shared strategy. Some may focus solely on quick mobilizations or media attention, neglecting the long-term relational work needed to sustain movements across crises. To create transformative change, it is crucial that these diverse entities coordinate their strengths, recognize the multiple faces of power, and remain committed to rigorous, member-driven organizing practices. This is the only way to ensure that our collective efforts target both the visible laws and policies, as well as the deeper agendas and ideologies that shape whether true liberation is possible.
The Hollowing Out of Organizing
If we are to be candid about the reasons why organizing is in trouble, we must confront the fact that many national, state, and local organizations have only a semblance of membership. The strategic emphasis on mobilizing large numbers for rapid actions rather than building deep, ongoing relationships has created an environment where people are seen as short-term assets rather than long-term partners in the struggle for change. This shift, which took hold during and after the Obama era, saw campaigns focusing heavily on galvanizing mass participation for immediate legislative gains, followed by swift efforts to resist the Trump administration’s policies. While this approach did bring notable bursts of attention and energy, it also caused a collective negligence of fundamental organizing skills. The art of base building and long-term member development fell to the wayside. Instead of rigorous, extended trainings that challenged participants to reflect and refine their organizing skills, many groups turned to superficial crash courses that neither agitated participants nor delved deep into the complexities of base building. Long-term apprenticeships, where seasoned organizers immersed newcomers in campaign strategy, power analysis, and grassroots leadership, were replaced by fellowships that offered little genuine campaign experience. As a result, aspiring organizers missed the sustained mentorship needed to develop the strategic thinking and leadership qualities required for lasting impact.
Two additional dynamics have compounded this erosion. First, in reaction to incrementalism, some groups have leaned heavily on cultivating a comprehensive ideological worldview or dissecting root causes of oppression while under-investing in the day-to-day work of expanding the base. Though grounding ourselves in a deeper analysis is indispensable, the pendulum can swing so far toward theory that we neglect actual, consistent power-building with real constituencies. Second, in an attempt to counter the historically grueling hours, emotional burnout, and low pay that plague many in the field, some organizers and organizations have swung too far toward self-care to the point of losing the sense of urgency and discipline necessary to build durable power. Neither of these extremes the purely intellectual approach nor the hyper-focus on individual well-being can substitute for steady base building; instead, they emphasize partial truths at the expense of organizational balance.
Consequently, individuals with limited hands-on experience often found themselves in high-level roles, where the pressure to deliver eye-catching results overshadowed the need to create durable structures. In many organizations, quick promotions or hiring of staff into director-level positions with no prior history of developing and running campaigns, or building a base, not only led to strategic missteps but also eroded the discipline and accountability on which lasting movements are built. We must rethink this widespread practice. When we place people in leadership who lack foundational campaign experience, we do a disservice to both the organization’s mission and the communities we aim to organize with and for, ultimately weakening our collective capacity for sustained, transformative change.
An effective organizing campaign should be a carefully orchestrated effort, identifying a clearly winnable issue, developing a robust base of support, escalating actions in a strategic manner, and winning concrete changes that ultimately strengthen the organization and community. Instead, the allure of short-term victories and high-profile visibility has steadily eroded the foundation of real organizing. When the rush of a major mobilization subsides, many organizations find themselves depleted of both the expertise and the relational depth required to sustain long-term struggle, leaving the field weakened and more susceptible to future crises.
One tool for correcting this imbalance comes from the Midwest Academy, which frames an “Organizer Triangle” around the themes of Vision/Analysis, Roles & Skills, and Self-Awareness & Self-Care, with Balance at the center. This framework underscores that truly effective organizing requires not just political clarity or tactical competence, but also personal resilience and humility. When any one side of the triangle is overemphasized at the expense of the others, the entire structure of a campaign can falter. By proactively attending to all three corners while continuously re-balancing among them organizers can deepen both their strategic capacity and their staying power.
Philanthropy’s Role in Undermining Depth
Another critical factor in the erosion of organizing is the influence of philanthropic funding on setting priorities and determining strategies. A large number of progressive or left organizations depend on grants from philanthropic foundations that prefer short-term, project-based funding or narrowly defined issue silos. This structure can inadvertently push organizations to chase money instead of investing in the sustained, relationship-focused work that genuine base building demands. Meanwhile, the conservative movement has historically prioritized long-term investments in ideological and institutional infrastructure, such as think tanks, media platforms, and policy networks, which can gradually reshape the cultural landscape. By contrast, many left-leaning groups are forced into a perpetual state of reactivity, chasing pressing issues as they arise, and scrambling for financial support that aligns with constantly shifting funder interests.
To be clear, I do not believe most funders of progressive organizing are acting out of malice. Many genuinely want to foster change, but the criteria they use to measure success, such as immediate policy wins or quantifiable deliverables, often fail to capture the slow, patient process of leadership development, power analysis, and community-driven strategy. Many funders simply have not felt the day-to-day pressure of building a base, identifying a winnable issue, escalating strategically, and ultimately winning (or losing) a hard-fought campaign. If you have never experienced the long, messy, yet profoundly transformative process of on-the-ground organizing, it is nearly impossible to design grant programs or portfolios that effectively nurture it. Overnight victories are the exception, not the rule. Campaigns often take years to mature, requiring patient coalition-building, countless conversations, and the agility to navigate setbacks. Without this lived or professional experience, many funding models remain ill-equipped to support the true rigors of movement work, mistaking quick outcomes or flashy metrics for the deeper, sustained engagement that actually builds power over time.
As a result, the bedrock of organizing, rooted in face-to-face connections, meticulous training, and the cultivation of emerging leaders, frequently remains under-resourced. This shortfall not only hampers sustained movement building, but also curtails our collective capacity to withstand future assaults on civil rights, worker protections, or social safety nets. Without a recalibration of philanthropic goals and metrics, and without a concerted effort to fund the core of organizing work, the landscape will remain fragmented, forcing organizations to sacrifice depth and stability for the ever-shifting demands of short-term projects.
All of this raises an uncomfortable tension, the tug-of-war between organizers and funders. On one side, grassroots groups often struggle to keep the lights on and pay staff living wages, insisting that “we need more money” just to do their work effectively. On the other side, funders might push back with “the money isn’t there,” or wonder, “Will more money genuinely translate into more effective organizing and better mobilization of people, or might large infusions of cash ultimately undermine the notion of a true ‘people’s revolution’?” This debate touches on deeper questions of autonomy, authenticity, and the legitimacy of social movements that rely on philanthropic investments. Some argue that community-led activism should never hinge on top-down grants, lest it become co-opted by donor interests or lose its grassroots edge. Others contend that, without substantial funding, movements are hamstrung and unable to scale up, especially when facing well-financed opposition. In truth, there is no simple resolution to this dilemma, but the financial reality of modern organizing, especially for work involving complex campaigns, legal support, or large-scale mobilizations, often necessitates some form of external backing. The key is to strike a balance where philanthropy supports, rather than dictates, the priorities of organizers and the communities they serve.
The Misaligned Blueprint and the Allure of Flash
A helpful analogy for the current state of funding in organizing is that of attempting to build a house with a faulty blueprint. Imagine that you have a plan for a strong, stable home, but when the time comes to purchase materials, funders only offer money for furniture, paint, and decorative touches. You might be told each year to update the decor instead of reinforcing the structural framework. As a result, whenever a major storm arrives, whether it is a heated election, a policy backlash, or a broader national crisis, the house collapses because its foundation was never properly secured. The same applies to the world of organizing. While deep base building and sustained community engagement form the bedrock of long-lasting political power, philanthropic dollars frequently flow to the more eye-catching aspects of campaigns, such as glossy publications or trendy digital content. This short-term emphasis may yield immediate applause, but it neglects the organizational architecture required to withstand future challenges.
An added complication arises when multiple organizations with virtually identical missions and tactics end up competing for the same limited funding pools. Instead of cooperating to build robust infrastructure, these groups expend energy on winning grants that might have been directed toward meaningful collaboration and deeper capacity building. Another layer of complexity is found in the allure of the “flash.” Certain organizations excel at crafting polished presentations, social media content, and charismatic pitches, enabling them to court funders and secure resources. However, these same organizations may do very little in terms of grounded, relational organizing. In chasing visibility and brand recognition, they further fragment the field and drain resources that could have supported systematic, member-focused campaigns. Ultimately, this dynamic sacrifices depth for surface appeal, leaving the house of organizing without the strong foundation it desperately needs.
Confronting Our Reality
The inevitable result of these funding gaps and misaligned incentives is a fragile ecosystem of organizations that falters whenever the political terrain shifts or a significant crisis occurs. Genuine community connections, leadership development, and membership structures remain dangerously undervalued and underfunded, despite forming the backbone of any lasting movement. Time and again, we have relied on sporadic bursts of mobilization, riding waves of enthusiasm that peak and then diminish, leaving few durable institutions behind. This recurring pattern has quietly eroded the discipline of organizing, once defined by transformative base building, leader identification, and well-planned campaigns that steadily accumulate power.
Although it is not easy to admit, our broader movement must come to terms with the hollowing out of membership-based work, the mismatch between funder expectations and ground-level realities, and the unnecessary competition among organizations with overlapping missions. Recognizing these shortcomings is a vital step, because we cannot propose meaningful solutions before we fully grasp the scope of the problem. Our challenge now is to examine these issues openly and honestly, and to reclaim the rigorous, long-haul approach that has historically built enduring power for communities. Only by facing these truths head-on can we begin to rebuild the structural integrity of our shared house of organizing, ensuring that it can weather the political storms yet to come.
To revitalize organizing, we need to move beyond shallow outreach and focus on genuine base building. This involves creating strong membership cores, nurturing face-to-face relationships, and establishing leadership structures that endure beyond single campaigns. Rather than one-time crash courses, organizations should embrace rigorous training and mentorship, giving new organizers the hands-on experience they need to navigate setbacks, analyze power, and develop strategic thinking. Crucially, multi-year grants and flexible funding can reinforce these efforts by prioritizing community relationships, leadership development, and long-term capacity rather than short-term policy wins.
Another key element is adopting a long-haul mindset. The work of organizing cannot be rushed; transformative victories may take years or even decades. Balancing urgency with endurance allows groups to cultivate deeper trust, advance systemic change, and avoid the pitfalls of burnout. Cultural and narrative work is equally vital, helping communities connect emotionally to the mission and translate grassroots efforts into larger stories of justice and liberation. Storytelling, art, and media strategies that resonate across diverse backgrounds add depth to recruitment and leadership development, preventing organizing from becoming merely transactional or cosmetic.
Reinvest in Genuine Base Building
At the heart of any successful movement lies a robust membership model, especially for 501(c)(3) and 501(c)(4) organizations committed to building real power. To shift our energy toward ongoing, face-to-face relationships, we must invest in staff and resources dedicated exclusively to membership recruitment, leadership development, and retention. This goes far beyond hosting occasional large events. It calls for routine check-ins, small-group meetings, and intentional outreach efforts that agitate staff and volunteers to engage individuals who may not look like them or share their worldview.
A thriving membership organization should be able to name its members, know where they are situated in their communities, and activate them strategically. That means assigning specific organizers whose primary focus is cultivating genuine connections, identifying potential leaders, and inviting members into increasing levels of responsibility. By establishing clear structures, like membership committees, leadership pipelines, and regular trainings, groups ensure that everyone recognizes their stake in each collective victory, reinforcing both unity and accountability within the organization.
In practical terms, this approach goes well beyond building a mailing list or social media following. It involves equipping organizers with the time, training, and authority to foster deep relationships across diverse communities, ensuring that members understand not only the organization’s goals, but also how to shape those goals through shared decision-making. This commitment to genuine base building lays the groundwork for enduring power, the kind that can weather both political storms and rapid social shifts. Ultimately, when we treat membership as an ongoing practice rather than a buzzword or afterthought, we create movements with the capacity to last well beyond any single campaign or election cycle.
Embrace Rigorous Training and Mentorship
Organizing cannot thrive on shallow crash courses alone. Staff and volunteers need comprehensive, ongoing mentorship that unpacks the distinctions among organizing, mobilization, and mutual aid, while also instilling the skills to run consistent membership drives multiple times a year. Treating organizing like a vocation, akin to the continual development demanded of doctors or teachers, means providing multi-month apprenticeships and immersive fellowships where aspiring organizers grapple with real-world challenges, from conflict resolution to strategy pivots.
These training programs should go beyond theory. Guided by seasoned organizers, newcomers learn how to engage diverse communities, maintain discipline under pressure, and build robust leadership pipelines that can sustain campaigns for the long haul. In-depth practice around power analysis, coalition-building, and member recruitment ensures that participants graduate with both the tactical expertise and the strategic mindset needed to preserve movements through changing circumstances. By systematically mentoring new and existing organizers, we transfer not just skills, but also the passion and tenacity that shape resilient, high-impact campaigns. Ultimately, this rigorous approach propels us toward an organizing culture that renews itself continuously, rather than relying on brief bursts of enthusiasm.
Realign Philanthropic Priorities
By fostering more transparent relationships, multi-year commitments, and flexible funding models, funders and organizers alike can reduce the tension and ensure that resources truly empower movements, rather than merely funding short-lived mobilizations. If a funder’s goal is to invest in authentic organizing, complete with the base building, leadership development, and civic engagement required for long-term victories, then both parties should commit to clear, mutually agreed-upon benchmarks. Trust-based philanthropy can be a crucial step in this direction, granting community groups the freedom to set their own priorities without micromanagement. Yet that trust must be balanced with firm accountability measures, ensuring that these resources are directed toward meaningful advocacy and transformation. In other words, funders must provide organizers with both the latitude to innovate and the mandate to show tangible progress, mobilizing people, challenging oppressive structures, and delivering concrete wins that genuinely serve the broader community.
One way to establish genuine joint accountability between funders and grantees is to create mechanisms that recognize and balance power, so that funders do not remain in an unchallenged position of authority. For instance, co-creation of grant criteria invites organizers and community members to help shape guidelines, timelines, and evaluation metrics, thereby centering the expertise of those most directly affected by the issues. Shared decision-making bodies, such as advisory boards or steering committees, ensure that funders, grantees, and grassroots leaders collaboratively determine funding allocations and project objectives, reducing the likelihood of top-down control. Transparent feedback loops further strengthen trust by requiring funders to explain their decisions while grantees regularly share both budgetary updates and movement-building progress.
These mutual exchanges can flourish under flexible, multi-year funding, which acknowledges that real progress in organizing requires both time and the ability to pivot as circumstances change. Finally, evaluation rooted in values and community impact goes beyond mere numbers, highlighting leadership development, community empowerment, and policy changes, or incremental wins that lay the groundwork for broader systemic shifts. By designing and agreeing on these outcomes together, funders and organizers maintain a shared vision of what constitutes success, ensuring that the allocation of resources truly advances transformative social change.
Adopt a Long-Haul Mindset
Lasting transformation does not happen overnight. Whether addressing voter rights or economic justice, effective organizing demands patience and resolve, acknowledging that some victories can take years or even decades to materialize. Rather than chasing quick headlines, organizations must plan for ongoing engagement, steady relationship cultivation, and the gradual accumulation of power. This approach includes multi-year strategic planning, periodic evaluations of leadership growth, and a willingness to revise tactics based on lessons learned.
Balancing urgency with endurance helps us avoid burnout, as it recognizes that short bursts of activity are not enough to achieve deep systemic change. Instead, consistent follow-up, community check-ins, and ongoing mentorship sustain momentum, ensuring each gain paves the way for future achievements. By celebrating incremental wins, such as increased membership or modest policy reforms, we maintain morale and demonstrate tangible progress that fuels a broader vision. Ultimately, adopting a long-haul mindset means building institutions and networks capable of weathering political storms, adapting to shifting contexts, and standing firm in the face of adversity.
Integrate Cultural and Narrative Work into Organizing
Finally, campaigns must resonate on both intellectual and emotional levels. Incorporating cultural and narrative strategies into the core tasks of base building and leadership development helps people see how their individual stories connect to broader struggles for justice. Visual art, music, storytelling, and social media can complement door-to-door outreach, unifying diverse communities around common aims. This is not about producing flashy content for its own sake, but about weaving narratives that reveal shared challenges and inspire collective solutions.
When we embed cultural work in our day-to-day organizing, we strengthen bonds among members and sharpen our ability to confront oppressive structures. For example, local art nights, spoken-word events, or mini-documentaries on community history can foster a sense of shared identity while highlighting issues that members face. Storytelling workshops can equip grassroots leaders with the confidence to communicate their visions in impactful ways, whether at a neighborhood meeting or on social media. By institutionalizing cultural and narrative tactics, such as forming cultural committees or regularly spotlighting member stories, we encourage deeper engagement and ensure that messaging is rooted in lived experiences rather than hollow slogans. Over time, this approach reshapes how communities view themselves, solidifying a collective sense of purpose that extends well beyond any single campaign.
Run Organized Campaigns with Clear, Winnable Issues
Even the most passionate movement can stall without a clearly defined campaign strategy. In organizing, this starts with cutting an issue, identifying a specific, concrete demand that addresses a root problem in a way members can rally around and realistically hope to change. Rather than tackling an abstract or overwhelming goal, such as “ending capitalism,” issue-cutting allows organizers to pinpoint who must be influenced or pressured, what exact policies or practices need to change, and when those changes can be achieved.
A well-cut issue should be:
Concrete and specific: Focus on a definable target and outcome, such as passing a local rent stabilization ordinance or expanding a city’s public transportation budget.
Winnable: While bold goals are inspiring, starting with a clearly achievable demand helps build the group’s confidence and credibility. Each win contributes to a cycle of growth and empowerment.
Deeply felt by the membership: When members recognize how the issue affects their daily lives, they are more likely to stay engaged, recruit others, and bring authentic energy to the campaign.
Once you have a strong issue, campaign strategy becomes the roadmap for victory. This involves:
Power Analysis: Identify the decision-makers, the influencers around them, and the levers you can pull, such as media attention, public pressure, or insider lobbying.
Tactics and Timeline: Choose actions that escalate effectively, from petitions and local hearings to mass rallies or direct actions, and map them along a realistic timeline.
Leadership Assignments: Ensure organizers and members alike have clear roles, whether that is training volunteer teams, speaking at city council meetings, or coordinating social media outreach.
Evaluation and Adjustments: Regularly debrief your tactics, celebrating what works and fine-tuning what does not. Strong campaigns adapt to new developments without losing sight of the core goal.
Conclusion
With a second Trump administration now in place, we can no longer rely on fleeting bursts of mobilization or the allure of buzzwords that mask shallow engagement. Instead, we must commit to the rigorous day-to-day work of building leadership, running winnable campaigns, and forging authentic relationships across lines of difference. This disciplined approach is not a limitation on our aspirations, rather, it is the very soil in which our most ambitious dreams take root. By facing the world as it is, we gain the power to push for the world we want, one anchored in justice, shared responsibility, and real community.
Yet discipline, grounded in clear strategy and member-driven organizing, is not at odds with dreaming big. On the contrary, it provides the stable foundation from which visionary change can emerge. When we plan for the long haul, celebrate incremental wins, and invest in robust structures that endure political storms, we create the conditions where our highest ideals, including equality, self-determination, and collective liberation, can flourish. This combination of realism and aspiration is our strongest weapon against both complacency and despair. It reminds us that while we operate in a challenging present, we are never without the promise of a brighter future and that promise becomes all the more achievable when powered by disciplined, strategic action.
Yes, is this is on the reality is that if you’re wishing and trying for a better society, you are actively saying it does not exist yet and therefore you get more of its nonexistence. it does already exist. All time is now, work with what is to get what could be.