[catalyst]

"Did I do that?"

It's a question I've asked myself so often recently. Did my words spark this debate? Were my actions a defining factor? Was the outcome different because I exist?

It's an important question for me. My ability to claim victories is often my only vindication from the social marginalization that I experience as a consequence of my actions. But my desire to denounce negative outcomes leads me to question the cause-and-effect model.

Maybe I didn't break it.
Maybe it was already cracked.
Maybe I didn't create something beautiful.
Maybe I just pulled the curtains off a masterpiece we all thought we weren't supposed to touch.

One of the most difficult stances that I have ever taken has recently taken legitimate roots in policy discussion. The actions I took regarding this issue resulted in criticism from my peers and caused a few of my family members to stop speaking to me, but I believed in what I was doing. But now that white-collar conversations are taking place, everyone seems to want me to keep my name out of it. I am daring but I am not legitimate. I can take the heat, but not the credit. An issue that I was passionate enough to risk everything for will go down in records as having been effectively addressed by people other than me. It stings in a way that others warned me about but I never fully understood. But I can't change the system externally if the system is unwilling to engage with me. So was it worth it? Did my actions make a difference? Would the framework or context for what's happening now still exist had my actions not been taken?

I don't know, and I guess I never will. I'd like to believe that my actions held a defining role in how things played out, because maybe that will make the marginalization, both from my family and my peers, feel worth it. Maybe it will be the difference between feeling critical and feeling used.

There are so many great movements that I have been a part of at UMBC that I can proudly point to and say, "I did that- I was a part of that. I spoke up and that happened as a result!" But the real world is complex, and nothing is as simple as cause-and-effect. Maybe my questions led to a change in policy interpretation, but maybe the policy writers left that clever loophole on purpose, and sooner or later someone would have challenged it. I can claim my actions, but I can't claim the results.

This is both discouraging and comforting. If the policy whose interpretation changed because of a challenge I made to it is revised and tightened, resulting in less rights for students, is that my fault for having challenged it?

No. I can no more feel guilty for things that have been destroyed than I can claim as my victory those which have been created. I am but one player in a game that transcends neat categories and strategy guides. To simplify a system so that blame can be neatly placed is to mock those who participate in it.

I have been called a catalyst by others. And at first glace, maybe I am. A catalyst does not participate in a chemical reaction. A catalyst is not consumed by it. A catalyst can participate in multiple reactions at once. A catalyst slows or speeds a reaction by changing the activation energy of a complex. It allows reactions to happen that would otherwise be impossible, energy-wise, but its atoms do not actually end up in the product, at least not mathematically. At least not to anyone who doesn't understand the mechanisms behind the reaction. To the casual observer, a catalyst exists peacefully while a chemical reaction swarms around it. It appears to do nothing, but the truth is, it is doing everything. But the end result seems to indicate that the catalyst is untouched. So maybe that's me.

Sometimes I feel like I break everything I touch. Sometimes I feel like I touch everything within arm's reach. Sometimes I feel like my ability to touch the things that other people can't even see is my greatest strength.

But I am not a catalyst. These reactions consume me. Activism is not chemistry, unfortunately for me.

I don't know what I am. But I am alive. And I am going to keep on trying to figure it out.