We Can All Be Advocates

Some journeys change you so completely that you can never return to the person you were before you left. For me, the Choose the Bear Tour was that kind of journey.

For eight weeks, I biked in a zigzag across the Upper Peninsula down to Detroit. I camped in forests and cooked over a fire. Every few days, I stopped to interview frontline and systems workers whose vision is to end domestic violence. Each night when I went back to my tent, I absorbed books on gender-based violence, domestic abuse, economic control and structural inequalities.

It was deeply uncomfortable.

Michigan was beautiful. The trip logistics were easy. But the subject matter broke me open. There is no way to take in difficult information without feeling discomfort. There is no way to consider the pain of others without experiencing one’s own pain. And there is no way to study relational violence without seeing yourself in the story. Domestic violence is a social pattern that affects all of us. As a society, it is our shared problem to solve.

I felt this problem in my body every day as I pedaled. It rose up in my chest as I breathed in and out and flowed through my legs as they churned up and down. It was the discomfort of a very particular human paradox: relational violence begins with love and trust and ends with fear and control. The potential for both elements exists in the same people, relationships and societies. It’s not as clear-cut or far-removed as we like to imagine.

Financial control is often dismissed as a peripheral aspect of abusive relationships. But as the journey unfolded, I began to understand financial control as the very foundation for abuse itself. When you control someone’s finances, you control their choices and their ability to leave. It’s not a coincidence that financial abuse happens in 99% of abusive relationships. It’s the easiest way to undermine someone’s autonomy.

As I traveled across the state, I got to know Michigan’s extraordinary network of survivor advocates. Frontline and systems workers invited me into their spaces and explained their perspectives on care and violence. Many were survivors themselves. We cried, laughed and connected over a shared desire to understand the human condition and build safe communities:

In Sault Ste. Marie, the team at Uniting Three Fires Against Violence talked about systemic violence against Native nations and individuals.

At a campsite in Wakefield, JoJo Dries from On The Wings of Angels met with me over Zoom to share her story of building community for survivors.

In Petoskey, the team at Women’s Resource Center of Northern Michigan gave me a tour of their new facility and explained how domestic violence can be hard to recognize.

At a library in Curtis, Christine Kinal from HAVEN spoke with me over Zoom about why talking about domestic violence is a powerful form of advocacy.

In Alpena, the team at Hope Shores Alliance invited me to a roundtable discussion about the scope of need for survivor resources.

And in Lansing, the team at the Michigan Coalition to End Domestic and Sexual Violence discussed the relationship between individual and systemic violence.

The Choose the Bear Tour officially ended with a lively rally at orsa's Grand River branch in Detroit. But this ending also felt like a beginning. What I learned from orsa credit union and survivors across the state is that all of us can be advocates. Credit unions can be advocates. Cyclists can be advocates. Loan officers, tellers, branch managers and CEOs can be advocates. Anyone in any position can begin a journey to understand domestic violence and advocate for survivors.

Of the countless moments, conversations and ideas that changed me on this journey, one thought sticks with me: Domestic violence is an act of despair, but talking about it is an act of hope. When we talk about domestic violence, we take away some of its power. When we believe survivors, we help create the conditions for healing. I am grateful to the brilliant network of survivors and advocates across the state who understand this so deeply.

This is a journey that truly belongs to all of us: we can all be advocates.