A Prologue
To my fellow members of humanity reading this work today: hello. My name is Nicole, and I created Groundswell Media. Although I recognize the “About Us” section does in fact exist, I wanted to take a second to truly express my motivations behind starting this media page—both for new viewers and as a proclamation for myself, one that marks what I’ve been viewing as a new beginning.
I like to consider myself a “baby adult”. I’ve come to realize that despite being the arguably-legal age of 22, life truly did not begin until I became somewhat sentient—sentience I did not achieve (and perhaps, I have not yet entirely achieved) until I began to shed my original self-concept. I had based my entire identity in what I believed others felt was necessary for me: structured ambition, vague vulnerability misconstrued by seeking external approval, and a tinge of hyper-individualistic professionalism that upheld my ever-so-fragile ego. I was a shell of myself, because frankly, I didn’t know who I was. I only understood the container I was socialized to fill.
I don’t believe that any 20 year old truly knows who they are—but as we’re continuously told: that is what your twenties are for. Your twenties are for adventure, self-discovery and progression; this fact still remains true, though frankly, shouldn’t be limited to just your twenties. I’d go as far as to argue that most individuals do not know who they are. We all seem to struggle within a societal framework that values efficiency and productivity, but only if that productivity fits within the confines of what is deemed valuable for civilization.
Recently, it feels as though value only equates to economic output. Individualism is celebrated, but not treasured, as it's simply a tool to propagate a veil of free will. You should seek to invigorate the ego, to build one’s identity—but only using pre-established building blocks crafted by your predecessors. Challenge the status quo, but don’t push the barriers too heavily, or you’ll find yourself a deviant in a society that seeks individualized conformity. Be a leader in your community, but don’t self-sacrifice for the whole; why seek discomfort when you’re always surrounded by convenience?
We’re socialized to uphold the various, multi-faceted pillars that supposedly function as cogs for humanity to continue along the path of Darwinistic success. We are humans—the tippity-toppity of the food web, the pinnacle of biology—no other species holds a candle to our innovation, capacity for critical thought and emotional complexity. Yet, what rabbit hole has our notions for society led us down?
I look around and watch as creativity bleeds from the masses; architectural artistry is swapped for efficient, economical brutalism. Logos that once screamed humanity, tethered with imperfections and moderately-subliminal programming, now host the same programming within a sans-serif, soulless font (and yes—I am more than aware of the hypocrisy of this statement, hence the clearly single-word logo you yourself can witness in the top right corner of this page). I consider critical thinking an artform that, similarly to traditional artistry, necessitates creativity and nuance, yet even our capacity for thought has been stripped from our cold, bare hands and replaced with anti-intellectualism. Higher education has suddenly “lost” value (and funding), expertise is overlooked in favor of notoriety, and complacency brings more comfort than curiosity.
More unfortunately, I watch as we all become shells of ourselves, led by a lie that we too can eventually find ourselves within this clearly-flawed framework of life. As my fellow people struggle to survive, the time available in the day to think about oneself and our collective being becomes shorter and shorter. That struggle forces us into the same box we once sought to forever be liberated from—our health falters, our people are divided, and survival is now too expensive to even consider devoting time to the true pillars of humanity: creativity, interconnection and thought. We’ve all been sold (literally) lies that drain us of our livelihoods.
So, after this miniscule (well, moderate) ramble, you may be wondering: Nicole…what the hell is the point? Should we all become miserable, jaded, bled-dry souls that constantly complain about the bullsh*t that is this society? Should we devolve into anarchy, and set fire to random buildings for entertainment? Should I doomscroll on Instagram and hope that I find a funny cat video to reward me some solace in this mortal life? Of course not—although I can’t say I don’t personally escape my responsibilities by consuming some brainrot from time to time (or more realistically as I use the bathroom). I would in fact argue that if your response is to be jaded and nihilistic with fried dopamine receptors and no capacity to think about anything besides yourself, then society has succeeded. That is the very intentional design of the machine we live within: to overwhelm everyone to the point where they no longer have the energy to question their surroundings. Or, alternatively, where individuals only have enough energy to focus on themselves.
I believe that the only way to truly fight against this grotesque system we live within is to scream f*ck every now and then, and blast a big ol’ middle finger to the idea of what we’re supposed to be. I say we intentionally take time to create art, to say the wrong thing, question the accepted, and perhaps hold each other's hands once in a while. I say we should dance in the rain, talk to a random stranger on the street, and bust out the dusty 6 year old guitar that’s been sitting in our closet for a quick jam sesh (even if it sounds like complete and utter sh*t). I say we must have the conversations we’re told are not appropriate for the setting, and talk to one another about the things we bury deep within. Because I truly believe the only way to push against a system that wants us to be miserable is to fight back with joy.
Now, of course this does not mean that we ignore the horrendous byproducts of our society—homelessness, poverty, discrimination, war, greed—these intentional consequences of societal structure are incredibly real, and necessitates conversation. At the same time, I think we have these conversations in spaces that reward balance: spaces that value the difficult and easy simultaneously. I think the intersection of every little aspect of our world is the very definition of humanity—we should craft our spaces to mirror that.
If you’d asked me a few years ago what my passions were, I probably would’ve reiterated the same script I’d been rehearsing for the entirety of my life: “I want to be a doctor, a lawyer, a scientist. I’m passionate about health, I’m passionate about justice and knowledge, I’m passionate about creating cool artwork that my parents (despite maybe not always getting) can appreciate when I haphazardly pin it on their walls without permission”. I still believe these facts about myself remain true. Yet, ask me today what my passions are, and my response—though maintaining some of the same qualities—would be framed much differently, and frankly, more accurately.
I am passionate about people. I love everything that makes our imperfect species human—our creativity, our emotions, our ability to experience cuteness aggression over honey badgers. I love that we can find joy in the most bleak places, that we dance and sing, that we argue and think. I love that we’ve all collectively developed a diverse array of different cultures, all that trend back to our ancestry. I love that we share our ideas, and speak at ill-fitting times. I love how we come together and thrive on interconnection. I love that we make mistakes. I love that the fragility of our illogical emotions can completely decimate our lives, and yet are indispensable necessities to live life meaningfully. I love our similarities. I love our differences, and very importantly, I love how those differences are all byproducts of the very essence of being human.
I think that in search of efficiency—perhaps another incredibly human trait—we’ve begun to lose the nuance that's necessary to be human. Humanity is multifaceted. We can absolutely be ugly, destructive creatures—both to our fellow people and towards the other creatures we share this wonderful planet with. But mutually, we are also beautiful, creative creatures—creatures that rely on one another, who dream, who cry, who feel insecure from time-to-time, who love.
This is why I started Groundswell—to create a space where we can have ALL the conversations, and where we can platform ALL of the wonderful things that make us so human—something that echoed the original, advertised (emphasis on advertised) design of social media and the Internet, before it was imperialistically overrun by corporate interests and profit: a place where we discuss the important issues facing our society today, and the lessons we’ve learned over the course of our individual livelihoods, yet simultaneously, a place where we can share our accomplishments and creations in life that bring us joy. Together, we are cultivating a space where we each bring forth different perspectives and value innovation, but simultaneously highlight our similarities and agreements, and ultimately showcase community. When we share our ideas, thoughts and feelings, we cultivate an environment where we learn from one another or, alternatively, find relatability at times where we feel alone.
We live in an era that feels absolutely devoid of hope—every news headline signals a small jab in the side of freedom, every politician who claims to represent the people have failed to even echo our requests of very basic needs, and every choice that functions to pay the bills seems to push us further from our fellow people. I trust that this page will prove that hope is not lost. Creativity, thought and human connection is still very much alive. Community is alive. I say we fight for a world we’re proud to call our own by sharing our ideas, exercising our creativity, and throughout our pursuit of happiness, helping one another to achieve collective sovereignty. The world will not be truly great until every individual is able to exit survival mode—when we look after one another and ensure that our basic needs are met, I believe we will see humanity truly flourish—and I think the way to do that is to reclaim our humanity and activism through artistry, and by valuing individual expression and collective community as equally important, necessary qualities to uphold in our world.
…and as a note to myself, consider this my big “f*ck you” to self-doubt. I’ve spent a long time feeling like I must accomplish my dreams in an orderly, scripted fashion—I’ve felt this socialized need to appeal to others to feel a semblance of happiness for myself, and have been told repeatedly that my dreams must be curated solely for me as an individual; my dreams must exist within a void, one that doesn’t account for my fellow people. Screw that. I have big aspirations for myself, but even bigger aspirations for the people in this world—aspirations that only succeed when we fight for one another. Without being vulnerable, we are complacent. Following your dreams may be the most vulnerable action a human can take. Putting yourself on a platform for others to see and perhaps judge is terrifying. I again say: screw it. Vulnerability is human, and our collective vulnerability is our strength. The first step in dismantling a sh*t system is reclamation. I hope this page can serve as one of the many small steps that cumulatively form our first step towards a better world…even if it is made on Squarespace…which typically warrants using templates that I decided to completely ignore…seems like a good metaphor.
Sincerely,
Nicole — a professional rambler
Made by a human being—not a machine.
