Over the next few months, I’m going to discuss some of the most frequently asked questions I receive about the Social Change Ecosystem Framework ©, a tool I developed to support individuals, institutions, and networks identify their roles in advancing social justice in collaborative, effective, and sustainable ways. You can watch the video above or check out a truncated transcript below.
If you are new to this framework, please visit www.socialchangemap.com and previous Substack posts here and here for books, free worksheets, articles, and podcasts. (And keep reading for links to books and podcasts that I’ve been exploring).
This is likely the question I get asked the most. Before getting into it, let’s step back and talk a little about what social change ecosystems actually are.
In my book, Social Change Now, I write about how social justice ecosystems can take many shapes and forms: formal nonprofit organizations, mutual aid collectives, rapid response networks, online communities, book clubs, and campus organizations.
What is unique about a social change ecosystem is a shared commitment to justice and interdependence — whether through advocacy, organizing, storytelling, education, mutual aid, or community care.
Healthier ecosystems tend to embody certain values: openness to different experiences and perspectives; cultures of care, reciprocity, and collaboration; trust-building and honest feedback; curiosity and experimentation; and the flexibility to adapt as conditions change.
And that brings us back to the question: why do some ecosystems leave us energized while others leave us depleted?
Reason 1: The roles that you’re playing in the ecosystem are a mismatch.
Now, we shouldn’t be walking into social justice spaces and demand that we get to play the roles we think we are good at; instead, we might need to observe, learn, pause, and understand what’s needed by the communities that the ecosystem is accountable to.
For example, in crisis-response ecosystems — such as shelters, hotlines, disaster relief efforts, or response to ICE raids — frontline responders
may become more central. Ecosystems focused on long-term strategy, political education, or cultural transformation may create more space for storytellers, visionaries, builders, or experimenters.
So if your role feels less visible or less understood, that does not automatically mean your role lacks value. It may mean the ecosystem has not yet developed the structures, imagination, or relationships necessary to fully integrate it.
The opening here is to try out small experiments to play the roles you’re interested in, to use your role to support the ones that are more needed (for example: in a rapid response ecosystem, a storyteller could be documenting and archiving the experiences of the frontline responders), or to play your chosen role in a different ecosystem.
Reason 2: You may be carrying too much of the same role across too many ecosystems.
Depletion may stem less from the role itself than from chronic repetition without recovery or reciprocity.
Weavers may be mediating conflicts everywhere they go. Caregivers may be constantly checking in on others. Builders may always be the first to say, “I’ll handle it.”
This can have a particular impact on people with marginalized identities. For example, many women of color share that they are expected to play caregiving roles across nearly every ecosystem they occupy.
If this resonates with you, it may help to set boundaries around the role you play; step into another role to create space for yourself and others; or intentionally reduce your level of engagement in certain ecosystems rather than trying to operate at full capacity everywhere.
Reason 3: The ecosystem itself may be under strain.
Many ecosystems right now are carrying extraordinary levels of grief, urgency, fragmentation, fear, and burnout. That pressure shapes how people relate to one another and which roles can function sustainably. Perhaps decisions are being made that seem misaligned with an organization’s values, or a collective is unable to pivot and adapt to changing conditions on the ground, or a network is unusually silent for fear of reputational harm.
Sometimes the painful realization is not that we are failing the ecosystem, but that the ecosystem itself is struggling to sustain the kinds of people, relationships, and practices it longs to value. It might be important for such ecosystems to bring in healers to set the conditions for deeper connection and guides to support conversations around underlying values.
Realizing this can help us move away from asking only, “What’s wrong with me?” and toward deeper questions:
What kinds of ecosystems support us not merely to survive, but to grow?
What practices would help an ecosystem under strain become more sustainable for everyone inside it?
Join me next time for another frequently asked question about the social change ecosystem framework. And if there’s a question you’d like me to answer, please reach out by dropping a comment or sending a message here at Substack or on Instagram. I’d love to hear from you!
More information about the Social Change Ecosystem Framework © is at www.socialchangemap.com.
South Asian organizing » Check out this podcast episode on KPFA’s APEX Express with Sabiha Basrai, Farah Mahesri, Rajiv Narayan and me about lessons learned from 25 years of post 9/11 organizing.
Books I’m reading: I’m on a sabbatical from work and have been reading more (no surprise!). Here’s what has been on my nightstand: Tiny Experiments: How to Live Freely in a Goal-Obsessed World; A Guardian and A Thief; and Backtalker. If you’ve read these, I’d love to know what you thought.
Podcasts: I’ve been exploring more podcasts lately on long walks, and my favorite at the moment is The Book Club where the hosts talk about books from the lens of the author’s life, the social impact and consequences, and what they mean today.
If you’ve made it this far, thank you for connecting! More soon!
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