ACORN: A Retrospective
By: Luke Dukinfield
Tags: Politics And Protest, Protest, Housing, Hope, Unions

Today is my last official day as an officer for ACORN Leeds. For the better part of 2 years, the union has been a centre of gravity for my whole life. Returning back to Leeds in 2018, I felt quite anchorless and demoralized politically. Bruised by the defeat of the anti-austerity movement, I, like many others, found a political home in ACORN. It drew on the energy and defiance of those movements, their commitment to grassroots solidarity and direct action, whilst channelling tried-and-true methods of community organizing through the durable foundation of union strategy and structure.

Rather than cycles of culmination and burnout, flashes and outbursts, hinging on the admirable martyrdom of an already-converted activist minority, ACORN was committed to building the infrastructure for long-term power, determined to win through working class and community struggle. I’ll admit I thought some of it was bombast initially: still less so did I imagine myself the kind of person who could be an organizer at the coalface, weary as we were from braving the frontlines of another protest, making another forlorn stand.

And yet, even as we stumbled to cobble together the groundwork from scratch in the early stages, we were driven by the gravity of that mission, the urgency of the stakes to reverse decades of grotesque resource inequality that had plunged our communities into misery and privation and desperation. In that, we drew on a courage and strength that was much bigger than us, the spirit of a collective movement that ACORN sought to crystallize, in which every one of us had not just the potential but the duty to organize and raise up others as leaders too. No half measures, no saviours but the people themselves taking control of our own lives.

During those first cases, door knocking sessions, campaigns, one is daunted not just by the individual insecurities and doubts that come to a head, but much moreso by the scale of the challenges you’re confronting, the weight of the injustices you’re seeking to overcome, the sheer complexity of building an organization that is up to the task. Throughout my time with ACORN, I think above all I learnt how by banding together we can rise above fear and be part of something greater than ourselves, become stronger and bolder than we could have ever been on our own, achieve extraordinary and otherwise impossible feats.

Of course, it was not painless: there were frustrations, setbacks, bitter disappointments, grief. In part that’s the nature of the struggle, but also a product of a fraught year, the longstanding scars in our communities, the loss of people dear to us, some of our brightest comrades like Josh. Holding to the raw edge of suffering and exploitation whilst embracing hope: incumbent on any organizer, and something Josh was so earnest about. Loyalty, and bravery, and sacrifice, a tireless dedication to the cause tempered by generosity and humour, a sincere belief in others and in unity: the warmth of his legacy remains a grace to all of us, a remarkable spark enduring and rippling through our movement.

Especially throughout this year, we’ve had to adapt to many shocks, maintain resolve and optimism and resilience in fearful and dislocating circumstances. Despite the old adage, organizing is no substitute for mourning, and revolutionary zeal is only so much buffer against the paralysis of despair. And yet, amid such disorientation, it’s institutions like ACORN that have tied us together, bolstered us with meaning and purpose. When the whole world seems to be fracturing, it can sometimes feel like little solace to thread together and build whatever we can. But it’s our only hope, if the harder path: we owe it to each other to care, to take seriously our responsibility and obligations to one another, knowing deeply that our health as much as our freedoms and dreams are bound up with that of others.

Ultimately, for me, it feels like the right time to step down and regroup. There’s an element of sadness here, but much more than that a sense of jubilance and pride. I feel inspired by all the formidable organizers I’ve met, the struggles we’ve fought and won together, the memories of friendship and camaraderie we’ve come to share. I feel humbled to have been there from the very scrappy beginnings, to have played my part in the rapid growth and triumphs of the union, to learn from a burgeoning layer of new leaders who will now transcend the original committee, make the union their own, uplift and be uplifted by it. It’s reminded me we can change things, that what we do here matters. In our solidarity, our trust in each other, our power together, we have a fighting chance at a better world. I’m excited to continue working toward, seizing at, that future, however we can.