LET THE QUESTIONS LEAD

If there’s one big lesson I’ve learned as an advocate, activist, and ally, it’s this: too often, we (and by we, I mean those of us who are white, white-presenting or just generally in close proximity to privilege) come in hot with statements—what needs to be done, where it needs to happen, and, surprise, surprise, who should lead it (usually us).

But what if I told you the most effective, long-lasting efforts don’t start with statements? They start with questions.

Is this work already happening?

Just because you don’t know about something doesn’t mean it’s not happening. This is especially true in advocacy. The reality? The revolution will not be televised. It’s unfolding in intentional conversations, strategic partnerships, and behind-the-scenes planning between partners of various roles, power strata, and expertise. It’s intentional. It’s patient. It’s powerful.

So, before diving in, ask: Is this work already happening? Because duplication isn’t just inefficient—it makes us look disorganized. And disorganized movements struggle to be taken seriously.

Also, keep in mind: Policy advocacy doesn’t always happen in public. The real work often goes down at tables over coffee and on into the backrooms of power, where trusted allies push the message forward. That’s why curiosity and relationship-building matter. If you want to understand where and how to plug in, trust needs to be built both ways.

What do I have to offer?

Advocacy needs all kinds of skills. Some people are great at organizing events. Some can disrupt the status quo with presence and the kind of clarity that makes people stop and think. Others are strategic masterminds, deep listeners, or just really good at getting people to show up. No one person can do it all, but everyone brings something valuable.

The key is asking yourself: What are my skills and strengths? And more importantly, how can I use them to support the bigger movement? Because effective advocacy isn’t about what you think is needed—it’s about what the community actually needs. From you and from each other.

Who is missing?

This question gets asked a lot these days, which is great. But we need to be more intentional with it. First and foremost: is the movement being led by those most impacted? Not just those affected—but those furthest from power?

Here’s an example: in my current role, a lot of advocacy partners are child care providers. Seems like they’d be the most impacted, right? Absolutely. But even within that industry, there’s a hierarchy of privilege. Some providers have more access, more stability, fewer social barriers—while others are left struggling on the margins because of language, socio-economic, racial, and even geographical challenges. True advocacy asks: Who’s not at the decision-making table, and how do we change that?

And it’s not just about representation—it’s about expertise. As a parent advocate for a chronically ill child, I know firsthand what families like mine go through. But we also need doctors, researchers, economists, and policy wonks in the fight. I can speak to my lived experience, but I’m just one piece of the puzzle. Effective advocacy brings in a full spectrum of knowledge and expertise.

Keep Asking

This isn’t an exhaustive list. Advocacy is fluid, alchemic, curious. The right questions will evolve as the work does. But if you’re looking for a place to start, these three will set you on the right path. Because effective advocate-leaders don’t always have all the answers—but they sure as hell know how to ask the right questions.