04 tender musings: on what we deserve

from a gallery we visited in San Juan, the freedom I hope to feel and do feel, when in the water

It’s funny how much your brain suppresses in order to protect oneself in the face of harm and trouble. I’m slowly learning to not judge the parts of self that shuts itself down sometimes or acts in a form of hyper vigilance, rather accepting that these are coping mechanisms that have been put in place to ensure safety. I give a younger version of Tahia, one scared and feeling alone in her tiny apartment in Queens, a big hug for doing what she needed to do to retain a sense of self. I thank her for keeping me safe emotionally during the period of time I was living in pure survival mode, essentially the first two-plus decades of my life. I thank the adult version of self that can now sit on a beach in Puerto Rico uninterrupted— bask in the tingling warmth of the sun, stare at the constant motion of the crystal clear waves, blow some sand off the pages of my book, smile at my dear friends, and eat a fresh papaya slice, in utter peace, acceptance, and calm. Six years prior, surrounded by loved ones, I was on a remote island off the coast of Faro, Portugal, one of my first times experiencing a bliss such as this, feeling utter guilt and remorse — was I allowed to take time off like this? To spend money like this? To bask in leisure and play? To have luxurious experiences my family and parents could never dream of? Surely I, Tahia Islam, was not worthy, for what have I accomplished by this point of my life to deserve of such joy and beauty? 

Walter Rodney on the Marxist method in his essay: Marxism and African Liberation

I say, fully earnest, that I truly have a socialist framework and methodology to thank for the deep internal shift of perspective, for I now have the words, political will, and scientific analysis to articulate that yes, for simply existing, I do deserve this rest and leisure, as do my parents, my friends, all of my neighbors in Brooklyn, community members we are organizing in Queens. This is why I organize. We deserve and should have our material needs met, housing, food, education, health, while working jobs with dignity and safe working conditions — not simply in order to survive paycheck to paycheck or to earn ten times more money than my neighbor, but to contribute communally and equally to a functioning society. We deserve to not worry about how we will afford baby food or whether we can pay for an apartment repair, and we deserve to experience the natural wonders of the world, from the sea to the mountains to the jungle. We deserve to have time and energy to make and indulge in art, to represent an otherworldly and mystical version of the concrete world we live in beyond the day to day mundanities, to exercise imagination.

That it is not about how worthy I am–that capitalist, American bootstrap mindset– but that we are all worthy, for we are human, we are breathing, we extend care and love to one another, we are a part of a living, global ecosystem and not this digitized, technological, concrete, financialized hell scape that has been sculpted to alienate and exploit us.

It’s my first month as an organizer with the sharp and tactful team at CAAAV (after my time developing political education at The People’s Forum), building power in Queens and Chinatown, organizing a militant tenants union of working class immigrants to fight against displacement, luxury development, and gentrification in New York City. As you know, this city is in a major housing crisis due to the excess hoarding of global capital, and the mayor Eric Adams being besties with real estate developers. (Real estate executives flood Adams’ 2025 reelection account. Of the $850,077 the new mayor raised during his first six months in office at least $156,000 stemmed from people working in the real estate industry). Last April, I went to a friend’s DJ gig at Brooklyn Navy Yard and ended up accidentally at the same party as the guy, and this coming year? We plan to be at his door disrupting deals in the making. The crisis is a greed-driven, man-made tragedy, and we must refuse to let it decimate us. More than half of New York renters are rent-burdened, meaning that they pay more than 30 percent of their income on rent – the second-highest rate in the nation. But the reality for most everyday folks and for our members? 50% of income. 

Removing shelter and keeping people in a perpetual state of mental precarity is the easiest way to keep people alienated and disorganized. This past week, we had our monthly tenants’ union meeting, and we asked our members something along the lines of, “If you could imagine the kind of neighborhood you want to live in, what would you envision?” The room was silent, until we reworded the question to ask “OK, if we, as working class people, had all the resources at our disposal, decision making power, money, influence, what would you want for your neighborhood?” We heard: shorter hospital lines, cheaper groceries, no rent hikes, safety on the streets…but we pushed their imagination further because what about green space, clean air, and parks? Equitable and quality schooling for our children? Full and robust libraries and childcare? It breaks my heart to think about how hard it is for our people to even conceive of the full extent of what they deserve, but would rather only name the bare minimum off the reality of what they live in now, because of how much has been stripped from them to survive in a soul sucking country such as this.

The community I come from, the backbone making New York City run, from cab drivers to hospital workers, the poor and working class have been utterly invisibilized. We are organizing a building that has been without gas for a year, in the rapidly gentrifying neighborhood of Astoria, down the street from restaurants that are now featured every other day on “Day in My Life” TikTok videos, Bon Appetit, TimeOut. The problem isn’t solely the restaurants, or the coffee shops, or the upper middle class, white people moving in – we are all exploited pawns in this machine of capital. The problem is the structural refusal to see our communities as deserving and whole. The problem is our generalized apathy to fight and resignation to demise. The problem is the cultural glorification of obscene wealth, from Bling Empire to Fabulous Lives of Bollywood Lives. The problem is when people are pitted against one another in the “climb to the top.”

But what is the top, when that’s a manufactured concept, and we have left others stranded at the bottom?

In so many ways, we have been stripped of our full humanity. I think about when I was thirteen and saw the way my dad navigated my brother’s graduation dinner at Harvard, sitting next to the father of my brother’s suite mate, a Governor from Kansas. My father, an internally tough, kind, and resolute man, shrunk to a half version of self in the presence of what American society deems powerful. In the city, he and my uncles are on their feet for 10 hours a day serving meals to men like this, and at this dinner, he sits looking at plate prices 3 times the price of a full family meal. Yet, both their sons were graduating together, wearing the same robe, in the same classes, walking down the same courtyard. With a heavy heart, I think about the death of Tyre Nichols, 29 years old, an artist, murdered by state-sanctioned police violence merely for being a Black man in America. I think about a community member I met with this week, (and for legalities will be vague), but just had parts of their 1 bedroom apartment literally collapse down on her and her daughter, her abode in dust and shambles. In the richest city in the world, in a historically affordable, working class, immigrant neighborhood with $4k/a studio apartments getting built 3 blocks over. But despite this, she has the most will to fight. 

Organizing changes you from the inside out. As I visit tenant union members at home, the buildings with a lingering scent of cigarette smoke and curry, peeling checkerboard tiles, waterbugs scuttling away, mamas holding a baby to each arm when opening the door, I am grappling with my own childhood and upbringing. When speaking to folks, while I know I can easily access the words to describe the political fight and future we’re looking towards, I am having trouble articulating that I fight, because well, this is how I grew up and I don’t want children growing up like this too. There is a part of me that is inherently optimistic and idealistic, not in a Hegelian sense, but materially — I see the conditions we exist in America, I see what is possible for equitable housing in political projects elsewhere around the world from Cuba to Kerala. I have decided to dedicate my life to the movement, and I believe in the power of the people. Yet, I can’t do this work if I don’t allow myself to accept the pain that this is born from. My therapist said to me- we’ve been working together for years, and sure, we’ve discussed your dedication to your community, but we’ve never fully talked about the material conditions you grew up in. This is a journey of uncovering I’m beginning to explore in depth, and it’s a vulnerability that is hard to contend with, because when you see the tasks, study, agitation, and organizing that need to be done to get to the win, I just want to shut down the part of me that is operating from hurt. Don’t we have too much work to do than to sit in our feelings? Those are the coping mechanisms that so many young children take on to continue survival. But in 2023, I have left survival mode, both emotionally and physically, and am at a more expansive capacity, surrounded by an abundance of love, friendship, and care. This year, I’m here at home settled in and ready to fight, and I extend compassion to the baby Tahia from Queens who is beginning to get dusted off and brought to the light. 

…With these monthly-ish tender musings aside, I’m eager to share another round up of grassroots people’s movements, political education resources, and the vibrant arts & culture I am fortunate to be held by. If anything here resonated with you, please let me know, send to a friend, and feel free to share on social media (Instagram: @tahia.co)

with much love and solidarity,

tahia

Tahia Islam is a cultural and community organizer, political activist, stylist, and educator from New York City.

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Let the grassroots movements lead us and inspire us…

• On Feb 1, more than half a million British workers all across the country walked out on strike, from teachers to railroad workers to the industrial sector. This is the largest strike in British history in decades in response to years of austerity measures and a severe cost of living crisis, demonstrating class solidarity and the power that workers have when we withhold our labor. To be seen what this leads to politically, especially with a retaliatory anti-strike law in place, but what it does show is, our power is indispensable and this cannot be forgotten. Continue following along at socialist outlets like Novara Media, coming from the UK.

We have a long history of working class labor struggles here in North America as well. We’re seeing a resurgence here in the States from the Amazon Labor Union to nurses strikes in NYC to the newly formed Union of Southern Service Workers (a huge feat in the South!)

At The People’s Forum, we led a series on Working Class Histories in North America — putting scholars in conversation with us, as activists and organizers. Grounded in history that is traditionally obscured to us, can we tactfully form a new future. Here’s one of my favorites, hearing from Carrie Freshour on women poultry plant workers in Georgia.

• Justice for Tyre Nichols. “Memphis police unit disbanded after fierce protests against police murder of Tyre Nichols” [People’s Dispatch] Protests against police brutality continued across the United States.

For more, follow the work of comrades at People's Dispatch, for on-the-ground reporting of people’s movements and struggles. An international media project, PD ensures that the coverage of news from around the world is not restricted to the rhetoric of politicians and the fortunes of big companies but encompasses the richness and diversity of mobilizations from around the world.

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Easy listening…

I had a sweet month of live music — from hearing Laraaji on the kalimba at Nowaday’s deep listening session, Planetarium, to seeing La India’s powerful, booming voice at the San Sebastian festival in San Juan, Puerto Rico. Below is a playlist of some music inspired by this month’s sonic journey, and other music shared with me by talented friends.

Other mixes and radio shows I’ve been loving…

• My dear friend Kafilah has a new radio show “Swimming with Kfeelz,” diving into lush tones, pacific grooves, spacey jazz, and bubbly rhythms — demonstrating everything from ambient to 80’s electronica. Check out The Lot Radio set with Kat Offline!

• Soulful monthly playlist by Lovie 🎶

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For your bookshelf…

• Decolonial Marxism by Walter Rodney — my favorite essay currently is “Problems of Third Development.” Rodney, a Guyanese political activist and scholar known for How Europe Underdeveloped Africa, was murdered for his intellectual work expanding upon Marx in the context of the third world and African continent. He goes off in this essay (this is @ all the NYU gurlies I went to school with thinking World Bank and IMF international development was how to have global educational equity lol)

“…if we are talking about the problems of development in the Third World, the major problem is the United States of America, because it crowns the whole structure of world imperialism”

• Pure Colour - Sheila Heti. non-narrative and philosophical musings on life and daughterhood. Shoutout to my brother for gifting this to me who recognized I needed a bit more literature back in my life.

• The Unknown Cultural Revolution: Life and Change in a Chinese Village - Dongping Han challenges the established narrative of China’s Cultural Revolution, which assumes that this period of great social upheaval led to economic disaster, the persecution of intellectuals, and senseless violence. Dongping Han offers a powerful account of the dramatic improvements in the living conditions, infrastructure, and agricultural practices of China’s rural population that emerged in this period. Drawing on extensive local interviews and records in rural Jimo County, in Shandong Province, Han shows that the Cultural Revolution helped overthrow local hierarchies, establish participatory democracy and economic planning in the communes, and expand education and public services, especially for the elderly. Han lucidly illustrates how these changes fostered dramatic economic development in rural China.

  What are you reading these days?