☕️ Deep Brew | Performative Activism Isn’t the Problem—Quitting Is
What Blue Bracelets, Black Squares, and Small Gestures Can Teach Us About Real Change
“It’s like a painting, see? From far away, it’s OK, but up close, it’s a big old mess."
— Cher Horowitz, Clueless
Performative activism is the black sheep of civic engagement. You know it when you see it: black squares, rainbow filters, blue bracelets. Like Cher’s Monet painting, these gestures might look OK from a distance, but up close, they’re often dismissed as messy, shallow, or hollow. Critics have turned the term into shorthand for slacktivism—the ultimate cop-out in a world on fire. And sometimes, yes, the criticism holds water.
But what if those small, imperfect gestures weren’t failures to act but quiet declarations of care—what if we’re wrong about what they mean? What if they weren’t the finish line, but the starting line?
I’ve been there. I posted the black square during #BlackoutTuesday. Even as a Black woman, I realized later that I didn’t fully understand the depth of the struggles that the Black Lives Matter movement was fighting to address. When I posted #MeToo, I was stepping into my story as a survivor of sexual assault for the first time. It was terrifying to own and share it publicly. That post was just a small gesture—a hashtag—but it cracked something open in me. It was the first step on a journey I didn’t know I was starting.
Here’s the thing: social activism, like any journey toward transformation, doesn’t begin with mastery. It begins with that flicker of intention, often clumsy and uncertain. And that matters. Because the first step—the decision to show up—is everything.
We don’t shame someone for lacing up their sneakers when they’ve decided to start running. We don’t mock the person buying their first gym membership or showing up in the wrong shoes. We celebrate it as a signal of readiness, of courage—a willingness to begin something that might just change their lives. So, why do we do this with civics?
The same should be true for those with the courage to care and take that first step, even through performative activism—because every beginning matters. A black square, a bracelet, a hashtag—these acts might not be revolutionary, but they are a step. A whisper of many voices, perhaps imperfect or misguided, trying to say, “I care, and I want to show that I care.”
Instead of dismissing these gestures as shallow or empty, what if we saw them for what they are: invitations to go deeper, to turn care into commitment, and to move from showing up to stepping in?
The Evolution of Performative Activism in Social Movements
If a hashtag can spark a journey, it’s worth asking: how did we get here?
Performative activism—whether in the form of hashtags, ribbons, or armbands—has always been part of how we express solidarity. But here’s the truth: symbols were never meant to do the heavy lifting alone. They’re the door, not the destination.
Symbols like the white dresses of suffragettes or raised fists at the 1968 Olympics carried meaning—not as solutions, but as calls to attention and action. These acts mattered because they rallied people and gave movements visibility, not because they solved problems overnight.
The digital age supercharged these symbols, turning moments into movements. Social media gave us platforms to amplify causes and, yes, to show where we stand. But it also changed the game. Hashtags like #BlackoutTuesday flooded timelines during the 2020 Black Lives Matter protests. Millions of black squares appeared on Instagram, signaling solidarity. But critics pointed out a problem: for many, the gesture stopped there. The black squares overshadowed crucial resources, drowned out organizers’ voices, and left the movement gasping for air.
The #MeToo movement offers another window into the tension between symbol and substance. When Tarana Burke started #MeToo in 2006, her goal was clear: to create a space for Black survivors of sexual assault to be seen and heard. But when the hashtag went viral in 2017, the conversation shifted. Hollywood’s Time’s Up initiative brought workplace harassment into the spotlight, but the voices of marginalized survivors—those Burke originally aimed to amplify—were often sidelined.
Even before social media, these tensions existed. A ribbon pinned to a blazer doesn’t end a crisis—it sparks a conversation. A raised fist doesn’t dismantle a system—it galvanizes a movement.
Symbolic acts aren’t the problem. They’re the spark, the rallying cry, the sign that says, “This matters.” The question is: what happens next? Will we walk through the door that symbols open, or will we leave it ajar and walk away?
Why Performative Activism Exists—and Why It Matters
Why do we lean on performative acts? The truth is, most of us haven’t been taught how to engage meaningfully. Systems built on capitalism, whiteness, and patriarchy reward gestures that look good but quietly discourage sustained, collective efforts to dismantle oppression. These systems thrive on appearances, convincing us that posting a hashtag or wearing a bracelet is “enough.”
And yet, many people stop there—not because they don’t care, but because they don’t know what else to do.
Fear creeps in: fear of getting it wrong, of being called out, of being dismissed as “performative.” This criticism doesn’t build bridges; it builds walls, leaving people frozen in their first steps.
But here’s the truth: performative acts aren’t meaningless. As I stated earlier, they’re sparks—small but significant moments of care. For many, they signal, “I care about this,” or, “I want to do more.” They’re first, shaky steps, like lacing up your sneakers before a run or wading into the shallow end to learn how to swim.
The problem isn’t the spark. The problem is when we let it burn out. Sparks need oxygen to grow into flames. Symbolic acts—small as they are—can create momentum. They help people set goals (“I care about this issue”), find pathways (“Here’s one small thing I can do”), and build agency (“Maybe I can do more”).
The challenge isn’t in starting. It’s in keeping the flame alive. That’s where the work begins—where symbolic acts evolve into sustained, meaningful action.
So, are you ready to take action? If so, let’s begin.
From Gesture to Growth: The LEAD Framework
If performative activism is the spark, the LEAD framework is the oxygen that helps it grow into meaningful action. It’s how you take that initial gesture—your black square, your bracelet, your hashtag—and turn it into something that actually moves the needle.
Here’s how you can start:
Learn: Caring isn’t enough—it’s just the beginning.
Dive deeper than headlines. What don’t you know yet? Whose voices are you missing?
Engage: Step out of your comfort zone.
True engagement happens in the hard conversations—not just in the bubbles where everyone agrees with you.
Act: Real change happens when you align your values with tangible efforts.
Volunteer, donate, advocate—every small, consistent action matters.
Develop Community: Civic engagement thrives in relationships.
Build connections with people who share your values—and those who challenge them.
The LEAD framework isn’t a checklist; it’s a mindset. Every step matters, and every spark you nurture brings us closer to the world we’re trying to build.
Why Every Step Matters
Progress isn’t about being perfect. It’s about showing up and choosing to keep going.
When we dismiss someone’s first steps—when we roll our eyes at their black square or hashtag—we risk extinguishing the spark entirely. No one wants to keep showing up if their efforts are judged as “not enough.”
But when we meet people where they are—with curiosity and compassion—we create space for them to grow. We make room for deeper learning, meaningful action, and stronger connections.
Here’s the thing: your black square or bracelet isn’t meaningless—it’s a beginning. But beginnings are just that: the first step on a longer road.
Let that first step lead somewhere.
Learn about the causes you care about. Join conversations that make you uncomfortable. Volunteer your time. Build relationships with people who share your passion for change—and those who challenge it.
The world doesn’t just need your gestures. It needs your whole heart, your hands, and your willingness to grow.
Let’s turn your spark into something real. Let’s build the world we want to see.