Pollinators of Privilege

Why Privilege is Meant to be Spent

For a long time, I didn’t know what to do with my privilege.

I saw it. I questioned it. I wrestled with it.

I tried to disown it, outrun it, make it invisible.

I worried that using it meant wanting to keep it.

…

And so, I stayed quiet when I might have spoken.

I hesitated when I could have stepped forward.

I deferred, even when the moment was asking me—very clearly— to decide.

Maybe you’ve done this too.

Maybe you’ve pulled back from leadership because you didn’t want to center yourself.

Maybe you’ve been afraid that taking up space meant taking it away from someone else.

Maybe you’ve been waiting for a sign that it’s ok to act boldly, to take initiative, to lead.

…

Here it is:

Not using your privilege doesn’t make it go away.

It just makes it unavailable to the people who need it.

Privilege as Pollination

Unexamined privilege becomes poison.

But when it is named, owned, and directed, it can be transformed.

I think of pollinators. The bees, the moths, the bats. The ones who don’t bloom themselves, but make blooming possible.

They move from flower to flower, never lingering long, never hoarding.

They carry what they’ve gathered, not to accumulate, but to transfer life. To ensure that what is flowering in one place has a chance to take root somewhere else.

They don’t apologize for their movement. They don’t shrink to make the petals feel bigger.

They understand: their job is not to stay still.

Their job is to carry what they can between the fragile, the fleeting, and the fertile.

Your privilege, whatever it is, is not a crown. It is not a scarlet letter either.

Use it.

Leaderful Movements and the Myth of the One

Somewhere along the way, we absorbed the idea that leadership has to look a certain way.

Big voice. Big platform. Big decisions.

But most of the movements that have shifted history didn’t have a single face, they had many hands.

Leaderful movements are exactly what they sound like: movements where everyone leads.

Leadership is shared, not scarce. It rotates. It expands.

It shows up as the person who hosts the meeting, but also the one who brings snacks.

The strategist and the caretaker.

The public speaker and the quiet organizer who checks in on everyone’s ride home.

In this model, power is a compost pile. You put in what you have, and trust it will feed something larger.

If you are waiting for permission to step into leadership, this is it.

You don’t need to be the most qualified, you just need to be willing:

• to carry what you can

• to take the next step even if it’s uncertain

• willing to say, “I’ve got this part, who’s got the rest?”

Movements need pollinators. And they need you.

The Garden Doesn’t Blame the Lettuce

When you plant lettuce, if it does not grow well, you don’t blame the lettuce. You look for reasons why it is not doing well. It may need fertilizer, or more water, or less sun.

We live in a world where systems are sick: systems of education, healthcare, governance, community.

Too often, people look at what’s failing and ask, “what’s wrong with the people?”

But the real question is: what’s wrong with the conditions?

And that's where privilege comes in.

If you have a full watering can, sitting beside the garden and shaming yourself for having it is the worst and least effective thing you could do.

Instead, pour.

You don’t withhold water out of guilt that your can is full.

You use it with intention, you refill it when you can, and you help others do the same.

This isn’t about overstepping or speaking over others. It’s about not disappearing when your presence could help something bloom.

From Power Over → Power To → Power With

The old model of power is vertical: someone at the top, everyone else below.

But that model was never built for justice. It was built for control.

We are being asked to move differently now.

From power over to power to: the ability to act, to create, to intervene.

And from power to into power with: the kind of power that’s relational, responsive, and regenerative.

This is a call to contribution, not domination.

Responsibility is not about guilt. It is about our connection to the structural processes that produce injustice.

You are not responsible for having privilege.

You are responsible for what you do with it.

This space is better when more people speak up. You’re welcome to join the conversation, however big or small your thoughts feel.

Filling Space with Love

Let me be clear: taking up space is not the same as taking the spotlight.

It’s not about dominating the room.

It’s about being present in it: fully, truthfully, and on purpose.

Taking up space means:

• Making decisions when the moment asks for direction.

• Offering your clarity

• Letting your ideas be seen, not to prove your worth, but to contribute to the whole.

In movements that seek to dismantle domination, we sometimes swing too far in the opposite direction, believing that shrinking ourselves is the only ethical way forward.

But shrinking isn’t the same as humility.

Silence isn’t the same as solidarity.

You can be humble and visible.

You can act with care and conviction.

You can use your privilege to elevate the work instead of to elevate yourself.

Be available to your own gifts. To the moment. To each other.

Be the pollinator.

Move between the blossoms.

Carry what you can.

Nourish what you touch.

Tend the garden.

I read every reply. You don’t need to say anything “profound”—just write what’s true for you. Feel free to send me a message or hit reply if you’re reading from your inbox. 💖

Further reading -

Nonviolent Communication for Activists

Anxiety is a Form of Futurism

Your Nervous System is Not a Machine