How to Be an Activist When You’re Overwhelmed, Scared, and Unsure What to Do Next

Ooof, the news this week has been hard to bear. We’re all feeling it, that familiar, heavy feeling in our bodies. Fear. Anger. Grief. Exhaustion.

Across the United States, political tensions are escalating (more). Protest is being criminalized. Dissent is being surveilled. People are being injured, detained, silenced, and disappeared from public view. Even when the full truth is obscured, the message is clear: obedience is being enforced through fear and violence.

And for many of us, especially POC, queer, trans, immigrant, and minority communities, this isn’t abstract; it’s personal.

If you’re feeling overwhelmed or frozen, unsure how to help without burning out or putting yourself in danger, we want to say this first: You are not failing the movement. You are responding normally to abnormal conditions.

We, too, have felt frozen recently. Conditions for our company and our community just keep getting worse, and I’m not going to lie, we’re very tired. We’re fighting so hard, and it’s hard to find solutions that will work and actions that will help. 

We Need A Different Community Model For Resistance

In last week’s blog, I talked about the lessons I’ve been learning about the vital importance of rest during this time. So yes, first and foremost, we need to be taking care of ourselves. But we also can’t just shut off the news and put our heads in the sand in the name of “self-care.” So I want to talk about what I consider the next step in this process: how we come together as units and organize. 

One thing we’re seeing over and over right now is activists on the front lines telling us that just consuming and resharing information on social media isn't enough. We need to be strategic and organized. But the idea of becoming organized in itself is overwhelming. Many of us have never considered becoming activists before, and so are left with so many questions about who our “community” is and where to even start. 

Why We Need “Pods” Instead of “Community”

Recently, I came across the idea of “pod theory” by Mia Mingus, and it was exactly what I was looking for. A tangible and simple way to start organizing. 

Mingus created the concept of “pods” for transformative justice work. It was coined to describe a very specific kind of relationship: the people you would actually turn to in moments of harm, crisis, accountability, or healing. Not an abstract community, not an identity group, but real humans who could show up for immediate safety, long-term support, and collective transformation. Pods were created to name the intimate networks we already rely on, whether we acknowledge them or not.

Often in organizing, we use the word “community.” But over time, it became clear that “community” meant wildly different things to different people. For some, it referred to a broad identity group. For others, it meant shared values or proximity. Often, it was romanticized. People felt connected to a “community” in theory, but when asked who they trusted to show up in a crisis, they could name only a few individuals. 

And if community is a term that’s used to describe those physically closest to you, then for many of us, it’s often the place harm came from or the place that turned away from survivors. This makes phrases like “community accountability” or “connect with your community” confusing and, at times, harmful. When violence is most often caused by someone you know, telling people to “turn to their community” isn’t just vague. It can be unsafe.

What Is A Pod?

The idea of pods was created to answer a very real question:

When harm, violence, or crisis happens, and the state is unsafe or absent, who do we actually turn to?

A pod is a small, intentional group of people you can rely on for support, safety, accountability, and care. These are not theoretical communities or vague networks. They are real people, with consent, capacity, and relationship.

If we can’t call the police when harm happens, and we can’t trust the government to enforce true justice, we need to create support that can. Pod theory simply gives language and structure to what already works.

What a Pod Is (and What It Is Not)

A pod is:

• Relationship-based

• People who consent to support you and receive support

• Built on trust, not perfection

• Flexible and specific to the pod's needs day by day

• Small (often 1–4 people)

A pod is not:

• A group chat with no accountability

• Everyone you know

• A political purity test

• A replacement for professional care

• A one-time conversation
  
  

Having one solid person in your pod is enough to begin.

Why Pods Matter During Political Repression

Pods give us a way to respond to harm, prevent violence, and support healing without relying on systems rooted in punishment and fear. Pods move us away from vague ideas of “community” and toward real, consent-based relationships built on trust, care, accountability, and love. 

By organizing the people we already turn to and strengthening those relationships, pods create the conditions for safer, more connected, and more accountable lives. When practiced collectively, pod-building has the power to reduce isolation and harm, while creating a living infrastructure for the world we are trying to build.

Pods help us:

• Reduce reliance on policing, surveillance, and punishment

• Share risk instead of carrying it alone

• Respond quickly in emergencies

• Stay grounded when fear escalates

• Remain accountable to our values under pressure

Types of Pods That Matter Right Now

In Mia Mingus’ pod theory, you can (and probably should) have more than one pod, and each pod can serve a different purpose. In simple terms, think of the types of groups you already have in your life, and how they already serve different purposes. This is just asking you to organize it a little more intentionally.

1. General Support Pod

A general pod is the core group of people you would turn to first when you need support. These are the folks who walk with you through everyday life. A general pod might support your healing, help you stay aligned with your values, or meet practical needs like childcare, access, transportation, or emotional care. Most people already have a general pod, even if it’s small. Naming it simply makes visible the support that already exists and strengthens the relationships that help us get through. 

Your general pod helps with:

• Emotional grounding

• Decision-making support

• Staying oriented when news cycles spiral

• General needs

2. Local Pod

A local pod is made up of people who live near you and can show up in real time when support is needed. These are the folks you can call in an emergency, during a crisis, or for everyday needs like getting to an appointment, meeting access needs, or bringing over a meal. Even a local pod of one matters. Having someone nearby creates a layer of safety and care that distance can’t replace, grounding support in place as well as a relationship.

Your local pod helps with:

• Emergency response and crisis

• Transportation

• In-person things like childcare, food, and medical support

• Real-time safety needs

3. Accountability Pod

An accountability pod is people who help you stay aligned with your values. These are the people who offer you honest reflection, where you can talk openly about mistakes, patterns, fears, shame, and the places where growth feels tender. What matters is having somewhere to learn, repair, and grow without punishment or isolation.

An accountability pod helps you with:

• Processing mistakes

• Supporting self-growth work

• Interrupting self-harm before it escalates

• Staying grounded instead of reactive

4. Direct Impact Pod

A direct impact pod is a support pod for moments when something hard or harmful has happened to you. These are the people who have your back during conflict, workplace harm, disappointment, or low-level harm, as well as during major life transitions like grief, illness, job or housing loss, or pregnancy. A direct impact pod is explicitly committed to showing up when life hits, so you don’t have to carry difficult experiences alone. 

A direct impact pod helps you with:

• Crisis support

• Emotional and material support

• Decision-making under stress

5. Emergency or Crisis Pod

An emergency or crisis pod is a group you organize ahead of time to help you prepare for and respond to emergencies. These pods reduce panic by making plans before a crisis hits, whether for natural disasters, public emergencies, protests, or escalations. An emergency pod might help coordinate supplies, safe places to go, access to food and water, and real-time check-ins. Local pod members are especially critical in moments when immediate, on-the-ground support matters most.

An emergency or crisis pod helps with:

• Disaster relief plans and support

• Supplies and safety equipment

• Arrest and violence response plans

• Check-in systems

Your Pods Are Your Support Network

All of these pods are connected. They aren’t separate silos, but overlapping layers of support that help make care and safety more intentional. One person might be part of several of your pods, or a pod might be made up of a single person who plays a critical role in your life. 

Many people’s strongest pod members are not organizers, activists, or deeply political. They’re the people who are already around you who have these skills:

• Listening

• Reliability

• Boundaries

• Willingness to learn

• Staying when things get hard

What matters isn’t the size or structure, but the clarity. Pods help us get organized about who we turn to, for what, and with shared understanding and consent. By naming our pods, we move away from vague assumptions about support and toward relationships that are clear and able to show up when it counts.

How to Start Pod Work When You’re Already Tired

We know you’re already tired, overwhelmed, or stretched thin, so the goal isn’t to build a perfect system; the only goal is to make your support visible and a little more intentional. Pod work is meant to reduce strain, not add to it. You start small, with the relationships that already exist, and clarify them. Then, if you see gaps in your support network, you can add to it over time.

Here’s where you can get the full worksheet from the Transformative Justice Project for how to map your pods. But the basics are as follows:

Step 1: Identify 1–2 People

Ask yourself:

• Who has shown up consistently?

• Who can I be honest with?

• Who feels grounded, not reactive?

Step 2: Name What You Actually Need

Be specific:

• Emotional check-ins

• Emergency backup

• Accountability support

• Local logistics

Step 3: Ask for Consent

Be clear with the people on your lists about what you might need from them.

Eg: “I’m trying to clarify my support network right now. Would you be open to being someone I could rely on for X? 

Step 4: Stay Connected

Consistency builds trust and reinforces your support networks for when a crisis hits. Make a habit of:

• Regular check-ins

• Clear communication

• Honest capacity conversations

How To Help People Without Pods?

Many people do not have pods, not because they’ve failed to build relationships, but because isolation is actively produced by the world we live in. 

Many people are deeply isolated because of:

• Disability and inaccessibility

• Immigration status

• Abuse and coercive control

• Poverty and overwork

• Systemic oppression

Pod work matters here because it changes the terrain. When we build our own pods, we don’t just resource ourselves; we help create the conditions where support can extend outward. Pods make it easier to notice who is missing support, who is slipping through the cracks, and where care is needed. 

As more people get organized around care, accountability, and response, pods begin to connect. Networks form. Safety becomes more possible, not through institutions, but through people. None of us is meant to survive alone, and building support in our own lives is one of the most practical ways to make support possible for others, too.

Thanks For Being Here

We are living through terrifying and uncertain times, shaped by instability, violence, and systems that repeatedly fail the people most in need. The pressure to be resilient, self-sufficient, or fearless is a lie that keeps us isolated. No one gets through this alone, and we were never meant to try.

Pod theory offers a different orientation to survival. It reminds us that survival is collective, built through relationships rather than individual endurance. Care is not passive or soft; it is an active form of resistance in a world that profits from our exhaustion and disconnection. And small, steady relationships, the ones that hold through discomfort and change, are often what make the biggest difference.

You don’t need to be fearless to do this work. You need to be connected, even if it’s just to one or two others. Connection gives us somewhere to land and somewhere to return when things fall apart.

If you do one thing after reading this, let it be something small and possible. Map your pod, even if it’s just one person. Start one honest conversation about support, capacity, or care. And choose connection over collapse, again and again.