What Mutual Aid Taught Me
Everyone is a hero to me in the mutual aid movement, and a few years ago I wanted to be a part of that.
When you read the Solarpunk Manifesto, what’s the first thing you think about? For me, it’s helping each other. Not just in the banal “smile at your neighbour when you see them” kind of way, but in the heroic “solve a problem for a neighbour so that they can solve one for someone else” kind of way.
What strikes true for me is how it doesn’t take one prodigy or superhero to make that manifesto real like many politicians would make you believe. Instead, it’s about the collective effort required to realise our shared dream for a better world. One person helping another can very quickly snowball into a huge movement of people living for each other, rather than for themselves as individuals. Everyone is a hero to me in the mutual aid movement, and a few years ago I wanted to be a part of that.
Setting Up a Mutual Aid Group
It’s 2022, the first waves of the COVID-19 pandemic are over in the UK, and I wanted to help my local trans community. As a trans person myself, I saw how a global pandemic had hurt some of the most vulnerable people around me. I had to do something, fast. Luckily for me, there was a call online for anyone interested in supporting a newly formed mutual aid group for trans people in my city. I signed up without much further thought.
My first meeting was in a small pub in the city centre that was busy enough so we could talk relatively privately. It turned out the group was just some friends who had got together to try and make a difference, and I was the first person from outside their circle. It was quite intimidating, if I’m honest, and it took a lot of courage not to walk away after that first meeting.
I was hugely inspired by the conversations in that pub. Topics ranged from the woes of capitalism and the patriarchy all the way down to real issues with access to healthcare and public life. We talked about what our role should be, knowing there were other groups in the city that were already trying to tackle some of our community’s issues. Given we were a small group with a specific set of skills and interests, we decided to focus on financial support, education and access to sport in the first year.
Raising Money
Before we could host any events or distribute any cash, we had to find venues and a financial administrator. We asked around our contacts but found that no one had the right connections to hook us up with what we needed for free. So, we needed cash.
It was surprisingly easy to set up an administrative platform that met our needs. Open Collective are a fantastic resource for any community group looking to hold funds but not looking to get bogged down in its administration. It’s also super transparent. I was in charge of setting it up for our mutual aid group and it took only a few hours of active work – the rest was just waiting around for our application to be approved. Once that was done, we immediately put the call out for donations on all our socials. It worked.
To save some of my anonymity, here’s a collective that we modelled ourselves off of, albeit on a much smaller scale than them: https://opencollective.com/transaidcymru
Within a few days we were set to receive over £200 a month in donations. That was really inspiring, because it showed there were other people out there that recognised the challenges of our community but didn’t or couldn’t help in other ways. They could easily see where their money was going (mostly to trans community members in need of immediate assistance) and trusted the platform to make that work, even if they didn’t yet know whether to trust ourselves. The most rewarding part was approving individuals’ grant requests – wow, how good it feels to know someone is safe for a night because of the work you did!
Education
Our education work started with a workshop in a hired meeting room about trans admin – how to legally change your name, gender marker and other documentation. We knew this knowledge is particularly hard to parse, so we thought some people would benefit from an in-person conversation with people who knew a bit more about what to do. We advertised the workshop with a huge caveat – none of us were legal experts, we were just community members who had been through it ourselves and learned the hard way.
The workshop was a 2-hour drop-in in a central location, accessible by many public buses with step-free access. We thought we may get a handful of attendees over the full time slot. To our surprise we had only one member show up – a trans solicitor looking to support our conversations. We were really grateful that they appeared, we made a great contact and could add legitimacy to some of our digital resources. “Endorsed by a solicitor” instantly adds credibility for most people.
We were, of course, disappointed not to be able to help any community member in need that day. We talked amongst ourselves about what we could do differently next time, and even asked on socials for any feedback. We didn’t come to anything conclusive, so the idea was parked while we focused on where we did see impact – cash distribution and sports days.
Sports
I’m sure you’ve heard of trans athletes in the news swept up in all sorts of controversy about their intimate biological details and whether they’re allowed to participate in sports competitions. Trans women are particularly affected, with sports as wide ranging as cycling, netball and swimming making recent bans on the basis of hyper-specific biological criteria. These criteria are often not the sole markers of the body’s natural baseline, and some cis people fall foul of these unfair rules. But that’s a rant for another day… Safe to say the international sports climate proves a huge barrier to entry for trans people in sport.
The mutual aid group organised a few sports days one summer that proved a huge hit with the locals. We had all kinds of ages and groups showing up to play some social sport – rounders, frisbee and 5-a-side football were packed out for several hours. It helps that our city has a huge green space that’s free for public access and relatively connected to local bus routes, and the weather was mighty fine!
As well as the socialising and exercise, we also used the opportunity to talk to members about what they would want to see from our mutual aid group. We found that most people didn’t have an answer, and that what were doing (cash, education and sports) was about right. That was encouraging, but unfortunately we weren’t able to secure any new organisers to help with the group’s workload.
Staying Energised
My article has been largely positive so far, but in true balanced Finley fashion, I have to bring the mood down, just a little bit. The mutual aid group was built on the power of 4 people’s good will, which is not enough to meet the requirements of a mutual aid group, in my opinion. We found ourselves becoming service providers for others outside the group, rather than stimulating a healthy movement of co-operation and reciprocity. We were also getting burnt out, fast. So, we needed help.
At our remaining sports events in 2023, we shared access to a community Discord server where people could make and respond to all kinds of mutual aid requests (not just financial ones) and folks jumped at the idea. Signups flooded in and we quickly put together a bot to help everyone track and respond to aid requests as they appeared. While both requests and responses were slow at first, it was heartening to see those numbers grow as people became comfortable with the system. It did become another thing to manage though, which wasn’t exactly what we had in mind.
I struggled a lot with the different working styles in the group. I like structure and consistency, whereas others only engaged when they remembered, were in the mood or weren’t too busy. The reality of working with a vulnerable community is that people won’t have the energy to participate (myself included) exactly when is needed. Going with the flow like that is really hard for my brain. I shared my frustrations with the group members and some certainly felt the same way, which was nice to hear. However, we weren’t able to agree any actionable changes that would help make it more sustainable over a longer term.
Communication issues grew as my and others’ priorities shifted away from the group, and at some point I had had enough of chasing people and feeling like an annoying woodpecker, so I quit. Given that I was the one watching over our Open Collective, I couldn’t quit quietly or quickly. I gave people plenty of notice, wrote up a short handover note with my contact details, and then left the group. I soon felt free of that responsibility.
Connections are everything
What I learned over that year and a half of community organising will stay with me forever. I learned how it feels to help people, what I truly enjoy doing in my free time, and how I can (or can’t) adapt myself to fit into others’ working styles. I am super grateful for the connections I made and know that I have people to turn to in my city if I need them. I would encourage anyone with an interest in mutual aid to give it a go and use it as a learning experience if nothing else to propel you into something that drives you and helps others.
If you have any specific questions about my experience or any stories you’d like to share of your own, please do sound off in the comments – I’d love for this to start a healthy discussion on what’s achievable!