“hopepunk is the opposite of grimdark. Pass it on.’”

I used to sneer at hope. I thought it made you passive.

In the religious neighborhood I grew up in, it felt like “an opiate for the masses.” I equated it with faith, another word I didn’t like. “Sure, things aren’t great here and now, but you have to have hope.”

On Monday, I changed my mind. Or, more accurately, a conversation with Mayte Schomburg changed my mind.

Mayte hosts a podcast called Hopepunk. (The quote above is from author contrasting it with a particularly dystopian genre of science fiction.)

Mayte uses her podcast “to shine a light on people, projects and places that embody hope-inspired action,” and she invited me.

As we talked, I found myself rethinking my childhood (childish?) assumptions about hope.

Hope is not passive. What’s passive is a belief that there’s nothing you can do to change things.

Hope is a spark. It’s a vision, even a glimmer, of a better future that motivates us to act. It’s what drives us to get back up when we stumble. Again and again if need be.

The antidote to learned helplessness is learned optimism. I am acutely aware of the dystopian futures that may await us. I am afraid, for myself and for my kids.

But I am determined not to be passive. And I am full of hope.

Thank you, Mayte.