Questions of power

When the Declaration of Human Rights was first published in 1948, it codified the idea that, as human beings, we are all graced with certain inalienable rights. But that does not mean these rights are, in fact, inalienable. Clearly, as recent events have shown, they are not. Yet this declaration is not a question of what was, nor is it an argument about what is. It is a declaration of what should be.

We find ourselves in a strange reality today. Perhaps it’s a sign of the times that we now all occupy a similar space of uncertainty. We all – from the faceless online critic, to the human rights defender on the frontline, to many of our government leaders – seem to believe that true power lies elsewhere, in cyberspace, in abstract international institutions, or hidden by distant bureaucracies. Power is forever just beyond reach.

In some cases, this may seem like weaponised incompetence, albeit on a global scale. Even when harm is not intended, the renouncement of power by the very people and institutions that have been protected by it can feel like a collective shrug to the rest of us – a tacit, silent agreement to defer responsibility upwards, sideways…basically anywhere but here.

At its worst, it is a dangerous form of double-speak that deflects from the very real harm being done and felt across marginalised communities. We are then left with institutions and processes that speak the language of rights while quietly abandoning the courage and responsibility to uphold them.

But some of us do not have the privilege of dealing in the abstract. Some of us face power that is very real and concrete. Sometimes, power simply is a gun held to your head. Sometimes, the power to live a life of dignity is taken from us, and in that moment, we are unable to stop it. If someone holds power over you, there are times when you are simply powerless to stop them and it would be dishonest to claim otherwise.

But I do not see power in those who seek to control or silence others – even when they succeed. I do not see power in the open glee that comes from destroying lives and undermining the dignity we are all deserving of.

Acting from a place of anger, driven by the belief that any of us have the right to destroy or take power from others, cannot be the foundation on which we build our future. And yet, despite how dark the world may sometimes feel, I find hope in our work and the stories our partners have shared with us. Because they remind me that power is not about being the strongest or the loudest in the room.

Power is about empathy. It’s about being strong enough to protect and care for one another.

I see this power in our programmatic partners who continue to fight for their rights while upholding their humanity and making space for others. I see this power in the solidarity, kindness and resilience many of our friends and allies have shown as we are all now in a fight for survival. 

As an organisation based in the Global North, we must also be honest about our position within this complex ecosystem and reflect as we navigate fundamental questions of power through our work. We operate within structures shaped by histories we did not choose. And even with the best of intentions, we risk blindly reproducing the very dynamics we have committed to dismantling.

This is not an indictment of who we are, but a call to who we must be. Because we do not want to merely reflect the power we have been given. We want to amplify the power that we earn through the trust, compassion, and solidarity of our global community.

I don’t want to offer false hope or pretend that the challenges we face as Kaleidoscope Trust even begin to compare to the reality our partners confront on a daily basis. That being said, we have an opportunity- and a responsibility- to see the world as it truly is, rather than as we wish it were.

There is a certain power in that. Because facing reality is necessary if we want to change it and build something better.

So let me be unequivocal. 

For Kaleidoscope Trust, power means: I see you, I hear you, and I will show up and stand beside you.

Because power is earned, not taken, and we will continue to embody that truth through our actions.

Alex Farrow 
CEO, Kaleidoscope Trust

In 65 countries around the world, LGBTI+ people are criminalised because of who they are and who they love. In half of those countries, homophobic laws originally passed during Britain’s colonial rule have yet to be repealed.