If you start a garden and don’t think about diversity, you end up with monoculture
On Decolonising Communication, Accessibility, and Community Building
If You Start a Garden and Don’t Think About Diversity, You End Up with Monoculture
ʚ♡ɞ˚
To not actively think about power is to participate in it.
To not speak about domination is to silently recreate it.
｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ﾟ。Watch your ______ fragility ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ﾟ。
I have been having some thoughts about white-dominated “liberation” spaces…and why they often end up as the monocultures they purport to be fighting against. I am having a déjà vu, and it might be a bit triggering one so please bear with me. “Misunderstand me correctly”, as they say in Sweden.
Years ago, I launched a podcast out of Sweden aimed at exploring deep ecology and social justice. I quickly ran into a pattern: BIPOC folks were more hesitant to engage than white men. And not for lack of interest or expertise. Many were tired of being asked to do unpaid labour, be the token “diverse” voice in white-dominated conversations, or lend their experience without being credited, valued, or listened to.
Exposure is not compensation.
Presence is not participation.
Representation isn’t liberation.
A space isn’t inclusive just because you “say” you invite everyone in. Not everyone has the bandwidth to invest more of their heart and time into yet more unstructured good intentions.
/)/)
( . .)
( づ♡
On power dynamics and the relational space
Many well-meaning white people, even in “liberatory” spaces, don’t recognize how power dynamics shape everyday interactions. There’s often a lack of awareness about who’s in the room, who holds the mic, and who defines knowledge or strategy. I’ve seen white leaders extract ideas from marginalized communities without credit or compensation, presenting them as their own. For instance, as an immigrant in Sweden, I’ve been invited to share my insights, only to see them appropriated and used without acknowledgment—often in ways that benefit the other person, not the community I represent.
While this is a personal issue for me, I’m aware it’s a norm in white-dominated spaces and, in the grand scheme, a luxury problem compared to the harm most marginalized people face. But the pattern is clear: in white spaces, inclusion is often a catchword used to benefit white people, rather than genuinely engaging with marginalized voices.
This isn’t just about tone or intention. It’s about awareness of power dynamics, structure, and the invisible impact of our words and actions. It’s about recognizing the relational field—who is being affected by unacknowledged privilege, micro-aggressions, and the ways we communicate.
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From content scraping to community care
A community is a living entity. Just like a garden, it needs care—watering the right seeds, acknowledging the people behind the screens. Even if you claim you’re not the “leader,” space is always relational, and interactions often fall into a simple A-B structure of messaging.
How are you organising your interactions? Are you just turning on the Zoom, scraping your followers for content ideas, and pushing out appropriated material across multiple channels? Who is creating this content, and who’s taking credit? Are you leveraging marginalised voices for your own benefit, while fundraising for your extractive lifestyle?
Sensitivity to relational space, even in digital environments, is essential as we work to dismantle traditional hierarchies. Hierarchy doesn’t vanish just because we say so. Intentional care requires a framework that harnesses collective energy without exploiting others’ ideas.
How can we turn the hive mind into shared insights and action, rather than recycling stolen concepts for aesthetic content? What is a liberatory space if people can’t trust they won’t be exploited, even with good intentions?
We need to focus on impact, not just content. Some basic practices can make a difference: asking permission before sharing an artist’s work, crediting sources in your posts, or simply saying “thank you.” It’s not hard.
It’s also about purpose: How are you making money? How are you using others’ work? Are you helping turn ideas into action, or just creating more reels?
We have an opportunity to use creativity to drive real change. Let’s build structures and communications that don’t replicate old hierarchies, where marginalized voices are co-opted for self-promotion. Let’s create strategies that lead to real liberation and always credit those involved.
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How do we decolonise organisational structure and communications as well as language?
#Communications
#The relational field
#Language and #terminology
#Transparency
#Tech
How do we build spaces that are genuinely inclusive and decolonised, not just in terms of content, but also in structure, language, and behaviour? How can we create environments that feel safe and appealing to culturally diverse people, without falling into the same extractive patterns we seek to dismantle? If you start a garden and fail to think about diversity, you won’t get a vibrant, thriving ecosystem, you’ll end up with a monoculture. And monocultures eventually die.
Platform choices & privacy concerns
While platforms like Discord are popular in white activist circles, many BIPOC individuals avoid them due to feelings of surveillance and exposure, often under a hostile “white gaze.” BIPOC communities may prefer platforms that are more secure, private, and personal. Even here, platforms that allow harmful content to be monetised, like YouTube, contribute to silent boycotts and exclusionary dynamics. So, how do we choose platforms that foster safe, affinity-based spaces without surveillance?
Structural barriers in cultural events & spaces
Events like Burning Man, while culturally significant in some circles, are often inaccessible to most BIPOC individuals due to high costs, environmental factors, and intersectional barriers (family care, chronic illness, employment issues). This results in predominantly white attendance, and the event becomes less a place of liberation and more a symbol of privilege. The question is: What does such exclusivity achieve? And at what cost, to both the individuals and the planet?
Technology’s role in access & inclusion
Technologies like Zoom, while ubiquitous, can alienate neurodivergent or non-native English speakers. For many, the accessibility of these platforms depends on how intersectional and inclusive the organisers are. If I know a Zoom call is mindful of neurodivergent and intersectional needs, I am more likely to participate. If meetings are unrecorded or allow alternative ways to contribute (like text instead of speech), I feel more included.
Being able to make informed decisions ahead of time—such as understanding the agenda, knowing the payment structure (sliding scale, donations, or free access for low-income or disabled people)—is crucial for creating a space that doesn’t feel extractive or tokenising.
Access & energy: More than just a BIPOC Issue
Access isn’t just about BIPOC, neurodivergent, or disabled people. We are all increasingly selective with our time and energy. As we live through capitalism’s collapse, we balance personal struggles—illness, grief, climate chaos, and the ongoing weight of trauma and systemic oppression. This reality makes us less willing to contribute to disorganised or extractive spaces.
Intersectionality makes these burdens even heavier: Women, BIPOC, disabled, queer, and working-class people often carry multiple layers of societal burden. We are more inclined to engage in spaces that are transparent, well-structured, and grounded in care and respect for our limited energy and time.
Reimagining communication formats
Instead of relying on YouTube videos or recorded Zoom calls, why not capture conversations through shorthand summaries, zines, illustrated mind-maps, and other creative formats? Can we streamline communications into bullet-point summaries, reminders, and actionable prompts? How can we invite paid BIPOC collaborators without assuming that their unpaid administrative work is an acceptable form of “accessibility”? We must credit everyone whose wisdom we share, ensuring their ideas are not appropriated or monetised as content. Blockchain has potential here, but that’s a bigger discussion for another time.
Awareness of power dynamics in communication
The A-B messaging model, where one person speaks and others listen, is often a limiting structure. As organisers, we inherit a great deal of responsibility in how power dynamics shape our spaces. In BIPOC-led groups I’ve worked with, materials are not shared openly online; their focus is on local, mutual aid, and actions. Their communications—inviting gatherings via encrypted tools, using no contact lists, and keeping things personal and secure—are grounded in purpose and respect. No one’s ideas go unnoticed; gratitude flows through these spaces in small, meaningful ways, making everyone feel heard and valued.
Real-world practices for accessibility
When one BIPOC-led group discovered I had disabilities and allergies, they immediately engaged in a conversation on how to improve accessibility in their practice. They asked: How can we educate others to be more accessible in their own spaces? This wasn’t a box-checking exercise, but a deep commitment to decolonising accessibility. This kind of thoughtful action left me in tears because I’ve never been asked such a question before.
For so long, my disabilities were seen as a burden or inconvenience. But here was a group asking how they could truly integrate accessibility into their practice—recognising it as a form of liberation for all. This kind of care is rare, but it’s the kind of intentionality we need more of.
Templates for accessible communication
One practical step to building accessible, inclusive spaces is creating communication templates that prioritise care. For example, a BIPOC-led group used a template for their gatherings that included:
Health checks (e.g., COVID testing)
Fragrance-free reminders for those with chronic conditions or allergies
A note about animal allergies and food sensitivities
This simple, clear communication made their gatherings more inclusive and respectful of everyone’s needs. These types of details can be the difference between an accessible and inaccessible space.
Micro-generosities: small acts, big impact
Another simple yet powerful act of care occurred in a hybrid Zoom meeting, when a white British woman opened by thanking everyone who spoke English as a second, third, or fourth language. This small acknowledgment made a huge impact, generating positive energy and trust within the group. It showed that care and intentionality don’t always need to take a lot of time, but they do need to come from a genuine place of respect.
Being willing to sit with discomfort, ask questions, and show vulnerability can create a space where people feel safe and seen. Trust is earned, especially for marginalised people who have learned to be cautious. The key is creating heart-driven spaces where everyone feels welcome—spaces where intentionality and care aren’t just buzzwords, but lived practices.
The relational field and vulnerability
In any relational space, we must remain mindful of the vulnerability of those we engage with. Using overly familiar or intimate language with people you don’t know well can feel invasive and disrespectful. Just like pronouns, names and terms of endearment must be approached with care. Creating truly inclusive spaces requires respect for the relational field and an awareness of each individual’s experience and needs.
How we drift into monoculture
White-led collectives—whether in environmentalism, veganism, anarchism, or activism, often unintentionally become dominated by white middle-class culture, even if they start off with more diversity. Without ongoing, deliberate efforts to diversify membership, practices, and engagement, many groups end up reflecting the privileges of white middle-class participants: more secure incomes, more time, and greater emotional readiness to participate in open spaces.
This isn’t about fulfilling quotas or guilt, but acknowledging privilege and intersectionality. Labels—though imperfect—are essential tools for understanding the relational space and removing access barriers. The goal is to break out of existing structures without recreating them in a new form, practicing what we preach even when we don’t yet have the language or frameworks to fully do so.
Make it easier to be kind
For spaces to be emancipatory, they must make life easier. We need to learn how to disagree respectfully, listen deeply, and sit with discomfort. This patience and introspection will lead to better communication, thoughtful actions, and more effective structures—rather than adopting a lazy, laissez-faire attitude.
On how we communicate
As we develop de-colonial organising practices, we must also be mindful of our language. Far-right groups in Europe are co-opting nature-based language rooted in Indigenous traditions to lure young people into their folds. They appropriate practices like martial arts from BIPOC communities, while simultaneously demonising those same communities.
Liberation without reflexivity is just branding. I’ve seen Buddhist sanghas, eco-villages, and anarchist collectives that claim to fight for justice but still reproduce systemic issues like white male dominance, sexism, ableism, and racism under new, “cooler” labels. If BIPOC, Queer, Crip, or MAD (mentally-ill, neurodivergent) people sense performativity, they stay away.
Surprisingly, many people in the diaspora are turned off by spaces that seem overly “activisty” or triggering. We must be careful not to dismiss labels in the name of convenience. Tools for decolonisation are still developing, and we need every tool in our toolbox to dismantle existing systems.
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A note to organisers
Remember there is a universe of things you do not understand and have no experience in. That doesn’t mean you are a bad person and don’t have significant struggles. Remember: Women, BIPOC, disabled and queer bodies are not theoretical, and neither are intersectional barriers. Being visibly divergent from the perceived norm in any sense means you live on the front line every single day. Identities like race, gender, and ability aren’t just “constructs” in an old power structure, they are tools for dismantling power structures for the benefit of all. They help us navigate power biases and deconstruct very real barriers that unwittingly inherit. Intersectionality is a survival map, not social accessories or signposts of self-expression. Intersectional feminism has directly come out of the social deep ecology space written about by excellent white male writers such as Arne Naess, Murray Bookchin, Deleuze and Guattari and many more. It is Deep Ecology 2.0.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Key Takeaways: Organisational Practices and Communication
1. Defining purpose and transparency
• Define what you are: Be clear about your group’s identity. Are you a publishing collective? A mutual aid group? What are your core passions? Transparency in purpose helps guide your structure and actions.
• Grade your language: Consider language accessibility—many people speak English as a second, third, or fourth language. Ensure your communication is inclusive and not overly academic or jargon-heavy.
2. Inclusivity and ongoing improvement
• Room for daily improvement: Continuously assess and improve your practices. Use available anti-racist guidelines and tools for structuring events, managing communication, and creating accessible environments.
• Feedback and adaptation: Regularly ask for input from your community. Be open to adapting and improving based on collective feedback.
3. Credit and acknowledge contributors
• Always credit your collaborators: Ensure proper attribution for ideas and work. Ask permission and always credit contributors (e.g., via Creative Commons or public acknowledgment).
• Respect energy and boundaries: Be transparent about how the work will be used. Acknowledge the different life circumstances and struggles that intersect within your community.
4. Representation and compensation
• Invite paid BIPOC, trans, and disabled contributors: Pay collaborators where possible. Don’t assume the extra work of being an admin or guest contributor is a form of accessibility—compensate appropriately.
• Ask community members what support they need: Regularly check in to understand what practical or emotional support community members may require.
5. Communication tools and privacy
• Choose inclusive communication Tools: Use platforms that ensure privacy, security, and meaningful engagement. Consider encrypted options like Signal or CryptPad. Prioritize tools that protect privacy over widely-used, surveilling platforms.
• Stop mining for free content: Rather than recording everything for future content, consider summarising meetings, offering transcripts, and documenting ideas creatively. Reassess meeting structures regularly to ensure safety and participation.
6. Make accessibility central
• Accessibility as a core value: Make accessibility a central focus, not an afterthought. Implement a clear manifesto or set of agreements on how accessibility will be prioritized and continuously improved.
• Create communications guidelines: Develop protocols for how meetings, especially on Zoom, should be structured to ensure accessibility for all. Keep an archive of useful texts for different contexts.
7. Diversifying leadership
• Diversify leadership, not just membership: True inclusivity involves diversifying leadership and decision-making structures—not just adding more members from different backgrounds.
• Avoid admin overload on marginalised groups: Be mindful of how administrative tasks are distributed. Don’t assume that giving more work to marginalised people counts as inclusion.
• Prepare for crisis and conflict: Ensure structures are in place for dealing with mental health issues, crises, or interpersonal conflicts with care and sensitivity.
8. Embrace criticism and reflexivity
• Open to criticism: Be willing to listen, adapt, and learn from feedback. If unsure about something, research it yourself rather than relying on others to do the emotional labor.
• Sit with discomfort: Approach difficult situations or critiques with patience. Avoid being defensive—allow space for growth and improvement.
9. Mindful power dynamics
• Respect power dynamics: Be conscious of relational dynamics, especially in spaces that are historically marginalized. Use people’s preferred pronouns and names, and avoid overly familiar language—trust must be earned.
• Vulnerability and intentional care: Create spaces where vulnerability is respected and people feel seen. Small acts of care—like acknowledging those speaking English as a second language—can foster trust and deepen community.
10. Rethinking communication formats
• Alternative formats for communication: Move beyond traditional, extractive media like YouTube videos or recorded Zoom calls. Consider creative formats like zines, shorthand summaries, and illustrated mind maps for sharing knowledge.
• Actionable templates: Provide clear, accessible templates for communication. This helps ensure that everyone—especially marginalised individuals—feels respected and included.
11. Actionable and sustainable structures
• Sustainable structures: Ensure that structures in place aren’t just performative but actively support ongoing engagement, action, and accessibility.
• Micro-generosities matter: Small, intentional acts of care, like showing appreciation or thanking people for their contributions, can make a big difference in fostering a supportive community.
Final Thoughts:
• Address power dynamics and inclusivity: Acknowledge the relational dynamics at play in any space. Practising inclusivity requires transparency, respect, and intentional care for power structures and community vulnerabilities.
• Liberation requires reflexivity: To create truly liberatory spaces, we need to be reflexive about how power, language, and access work within our organisations and communities.