When Rev. Michael Tino reached out to me and asked me to reflect on persistence, I laughed and laughed. The dictionary definition of persistence calls it “an obstinate continuance in a course of action in spite of difficulty or opposition.” As a person with ADHD, I am pretty much the opposite of the definition of persistence. My squirrel brain is easily distracted and finds anything new more interesting than something old. I have been known to make to-do lists and then think I have already done the task. I am then surprised that my laundry is still in the bag by the door because I was sure that I had done laundry. I mean, I wrote it down!
This essay is already three days late.
In 2017, U.S. Senator Elizabeth Warren of Massachusetts read a letter from Coretta Scott King into the record on the Senate floor. As she continued to read it, Republican leaders, including Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell told her to stop. After much back and forth, the Republican majority voted to silence her for the remainder of the hearings.
Afterward, McConnell explained himself: “She was warned. She was given an explanation. Nevertheless, she persisted.”
That line became a full-throated rallying cry for many people. It resonated deeply within a broad U.S. culture that lays out the idea that persistence in the face of opposition is a sign of strength. Warren didn’t take no for an answer. We love that stuff. We read story after feel-good story of the person who tried for years to accomplish their goal and then did, through persistence.
If only we try hard enough, we are told, we will be able to succeed at whatever we put our mind to. Our single-minded commitment will overcome all obstacles. Persisting, someone decided, is something that a person does or does not do. Keep going. Don’t stop. Continue in the face of opposition. Just Do It.
But hand in hand with that idea is the ugly underbelly that if persisting will get us to our goal, then if we don’t accomplish something, it will be our fault for not continuing. Just Do It. And if you don’t do it, it’s your fault.
Nonsense.
Joking aside, there are plenty of things at which I’ve persisted. I have completed complex tasks, essays written, children fed, courses completed, and painted rooms. But I never did them alone. That’s the myth that we persist independently.
I think persistence is not an individual character trait. It’s a group activity, and we should understand it as part of community care.
Persistence is collective. It is in the endurance of actions of those who would not give up on me when I gave up on myself. It’s the support of our family and friends and even strangers. It’s the people who grow our food, even people we pay to help us do those things we cannot accomplish alone. Persistence is in the people who let me sleep on their couch while I commuted from Philly to N.Y. for school. It’s the people who took me in and fed and watered me when my mental health collapsed in on itself. It’s the people who send me cards with stickers in them to remind me I am loved. We move forward together.
Persistence is a group of people moving toward their goals. Taking turns, like geese flying in formation, take turns at the front, at that hardest bit. As a community, we take turns with the things we are best at and alternate our effort at the most challenging activities. We persist collectively in the face of collective opposition.
Wonder what happened to the letter by Coretta Scott King? Senator Jeff Merkley read it into the Senate record. Warren persisted, and then Merkley continued. Someone else completed the task she set out to do.
Persistence is a group activity. All of us persist together, supporting one another when and how we can, accepting the help of others. This group activity is part of how we all get free together.