Owning my generalism

I’m a generalist.

Sure, I have specific areas of focus or more accumulated experience, but I’ve spent most of the past 20+ years adjusting to fit the circumstances and opportunities of the time. This adaptability is a strength, to be sure (although constant assimilation has its own risks, as I wrote here), but for so long - like, maybe until right now - I’ve felt chagrined to not be a specialist.

I still struggle, when asked to summarize my expertise. Do I start at the beginning and narrate the evolution from girls education and economic empowerment in West Africa to breast cancer research fundraising in Philly to humanitarian relief in DRC to global human rights defender protection to freedom of expression and journalist protection in Mexico…to only then get to the past 7 years of consulting for dozens of different clients and projects and countries? Or do I pick a lane (say, protection of civic space) and stick with it when in fact my interests spill over into climate and new economic models and, oh I don’t know, the dismantling of systems that protect concentrations of power and resources in the hands of a few.

{pause to draw breath}

This is coming up a lot as I navigate this in between time of figuring out my next step. Imposter syndrome, back again in the quiet hours: what could I possibly contribute to the climate justice fight?

So it was a relief to find this decade-old TED talk, All power to the polymath, in which my new intellectual crush, Ella Saltmarshe, tells me my pluralism is not only acceptable but sorely needed.

And in truth, I know this. It is what allows me to build coalitions: being able to speak across disciplines and connect with people from different perspectives, to see how they relate with and to each other, and help them join forces. But the fact that this comes so naturally to me means I often discount it as obvious or easy work that anyone can do. It makes me a terrible salesperson for my own skills, and can limit how I see my place in the larger picture - which makes it pretty tricky to explain to anyone else.

Owning my generalism feels centering, grounding. It also helps me realize that perhaps I’m not going to find THE next thing in my career. Maybe I’m just going to keep fine tuning, pausing every so often to adjust the dials but hopefully paying attention enough throughout to know what’s working, what’s resonating, versus what feels more forced.

I’ve already had a bunch of what I’d consider small or subtle realizations like these. Breadcrumbs as opposed to lightbulbs. And here’s another interesting one: at some point, the conditions of work became as important to me as the issue I’m working on. The subject of my work used to be paramount, the drive of a challenging human rights issue to focus on, absorb, embody - to live, really. But I also really want to work with colleagues I respect and enjoy, towards ambitious but well thought-out, creatively strategized social justice objectives. All while holding the other parts of my life with as much care and respect as I afford work (if not more so).

I finally believe that this doesn’t make me a bad activist, and hopefully makes me a better human.

Generally speaking.