Writing for Organizers: Building a Platform

Here’s the most I’ve ever cringed while helping an organizer with their writing.

It is not the most horrifying failure or morally ambiguous moment of my work.

But four years later, whenever I think about it I seize up like “Ahhh. Yeah... that happened.”

Here’s how it went.

I was involved with a coalition doing education work.

A very nice older white woman said she would be interested in writing an op ed — 

We were trying to convince the head of the local school board, also an older white woman, to stand against a school criminalization bill.

(you all know how I feel about op eds, but this was a different time in my life. I was less angry then.)

I had a ton of other things to do, and this was going to take so much finagling of other people’s opinions on a timeline. 

So I was very apprehensive about talking to this woman.

But you know what? 

This woman and I really vibed, man. 

We had a really meaningful conversation about writing and feelings and gender, not even in a boring way. 

I really enjoyed it.

But unfortunately, we vibed so much, I went a little off script. 

I talked a lot more than I should have.

I started getting into what it meant to write authentically — how speaking from the heart, making time to reflect on your life experiences, was a critical part of organizing. 

Especially for people like her, a retired teacher who had a lot to share with the world.

You can probably guess what happened next.

I woke up the next morning to an email from the woman I had vibed so much with, with the subject line “my truest thoughts and feelings”. Our conversation had inspired her, she said, and she had stayed up until 4 AM the night before writing pages and pages about what education meant to her.

She hoped that I could turn it into some kind of op ed by the deadline, she said.

Mannnnnnnnnnnn.

When she sent me those pages and pages, I felt like SUCH a jerk. 

Because, here’s the thing.

As thoughtful and meaningful and poignant as her reflection was, and as thrilled personally as I was for her to be finding her creative and political voice —

There was not much in those pages to make a compelling political opinion piece** that would sway the board of education. 

I sent her a long and apologetic email about how I had already sent in the opinion piece we wrote together the day before, which was true.

I wrote her another follow up email the next day, encouraging her to continue writing and sharing her voice in her own way, by building her own platform.

I had not yet learned how to not be activated all the time, so my email was pretty rushed. 

And my advice, my genuine encouragement of her to build a platform?

I think it came off dismissive, like a rejection. 

Either way, she never emailed me back. 

And I felt like a DICK. 

When I talk to people, organizers especially, about building a platform, or self publishing what they say, they often get a little bit hurt. 

Maybe even a little offended. 

Because I think when people hear is: 

nothing you have to say is good enough for any publisher, or a media outlet. 

But like, in the voice of every inner critic and rejecting figure in their life.

But actually: 

It’s the opposite.

There is no publisher or media outlet that is good enough for you.

For real. Hear me out.

Publishers, all of them, from the indie sweetheart small press poetry darlings to the Citizen Kane level monopoly newspaper editorial board, they’re looking for some thing that fits what they need when they need it.

They want things that are current, relevant, in line with what the readers want to know. Often they have specific issues, topics, or types of credentials the writers need in order for them to be relevant to the readers.

Every publisher is doing this kind of calculus, even if they’re not totally aware that they’re doing it.

Even the zines.

There’s nothing wrong with this: we all have to do it, and it’s important to know who you’re writing for and why. 

But it usually means that they’ll have edits. They’ll have changes they want to make, or specific angles or framing that you need to use in order to get in with their readership. You have to edit based on their audience and standards. 

But for you? A person who is trying to figure out what you want to say, how to transmit your deepest most authentic truth to the rest of the world?

You’re still trying to figure out what you want to say and to whom. 

Even if their audience is exactly who you want to be talking to, which happens far less than you would think, even with your favorite publication.

You’re going to have to edit, change what you’re trying to say, and revise. Again, there’s nothing wrong with this. Editing especially with others makes you a better writer.

But your deepest thoughts?

The reflections that you’re just now learning to share with the world.

You got to protect them. 

You’ve got to give it the love and energy and kindness that it deserves. 

And that’s why you have to share yourself with people who want to hear your truth.

Not your friends or your sort of exasperated partner. 

The people who really need to hear it, who are going to connect with it deeper than anything else.

So… How do you find those people? Where do they live?…

How do you get them to read your blog whatever?

That’s part 2.

And that’s why you need to build a platform. 

• H

** this brings up a bigger question, one that we are going to get to in future posts: how the hell do you evaluate what is “right “for a particular piece? What is “good enough “writing?