What Is Norm-Activism? How Small Acts Create More Inclusive Communities
If you’re older than 30, you probably have a memory of this experience:
You’re walking through an indoor mall and you pass Bath & Body Works. The smell of the store wafts out and creates an immediate sensory overload. All of a sudden, there is nothing else. There is only the smell of 26 different lotions and soaps coming together to dominate your nostrils.
And depending on who you are, you probably had one of these three responses:
“Oh, that’s a lot. Let’s move past that.”
“Oh, that’s a lot of good smells. Let’s maybe go in.”
IMMEDIATE AND TERRIBLE HEADACHE.
I usually had the first response – I found the smell to be a pungent and unpleasant mixture, but ultimately a temporary and quick-lived inconvenience.
My partner on the other hand has a very different response to these kinds of strong smells: debilitating migraines that impact her for the next 48 hours.
And living alongside her, learning about what triggers these migraines, has fundamentally changed how I respond to strong smells, whether they come from perfumes, hair sprays, or smoke. I no longer adopt an apathetic “just keep moving" mentality; instead, I find myself leaping into caregiving mode and, whether she’s with me or not, considering how others around me might be being impacted.
And something else has changed as well:
I've started thinking about this as a form of everyday inclusion: noticing the experiences that aren't always visible and making small changes – often verbally – that help more people participate comfortably.
It’s my own little way of engaging in norm-activism.
It’s a form of non-performative active advocacy: changing what's considered "normal" so that people with different experiences don't have to constantly explain, hide, or accommodate themselves just to participate.
A few weeks ago, I was starting a class with a group of local pre-service teachers (I work as an adjunct professor for a couple local universities) and we were talking about what “being mindful of our impact on others” might look like together.
Across the room, students shared the typical responses: consider other perspectives, be on time, engage in the work with an open mind. With my partner in mind, I added that it might look like being aware of the strength of the lotions, perfumes, colognes, and deodorants we put on before entering our shared learning space.
And after class, what happened?
Three (that’s 10% of the class!!) students came up to me to thank me, sharing that no teacher or professor had ever brought it up before. Meaning for their entire educational journey, they had to carry the weight of managing painful headaches and migraines, deciding whether or not to ask people with strong scents to move away from them, facing the challenge of trying to move to different seats in the middle of class, all while attempting to maintain social connection.
In one minute, my choice to give a specific, often-unspoken example normalized their experience and let others know it was real. (Two of these students have since advocated for themselves with their classmates within the shared space.)
This is one reason norm-activism is especially relevant to people in caring professions. Teachers, nurses, therapists, social workers, and nonprofit workers are constantly shaping environments and cultures in which other people learn, work, heal, ask for help, or belong.
The power of norm-activism is that when we normalize common human experiences, we embolden each other to create more open and human-positive cultures.
What Is Norm-Activism?
Norm-activism: Naming a common experience that is often invisible or deemed “unspeakable,” making it easier – and more “normal” – for others to recognize it, talk about it, and respond differently.
These small acts of inclusion can happen at work, at school, in families, and in community spaces:
In a stressful workplace, find a group of safe-enough folks and model vulnerability: “Honestly, I’m struggling to keep up right now.” You may give someone else permission to admit they’re struggling too.
The next time you’re feeling anxious – or notice someone feeling anxious – comment on your own sweatiness! Mentioning sweat and bodily reactions to stress is often a no-no in conversation…but we all deal with it and it can be extremely pressure-reducing when it’s just named in a light-hearted way.
When a group is making decisions and someone says, “Everyone agree?” try speaking up and saying, “I’m curious: what are other viewpoints on this? Before we agree, what might we be missing?” This begins to normalize pausing, considering other perspectives, and maybe even disagreeing.
Small Acts of Advocacy Change Culture
This might feel small – but these kinds of actions are how we take an active role in shaping culture where we are.
Not all forms of activism are out in the street or tied to electoral campaigns or getting signatures. Some of the most influential and care-centered activism we can engage in happens person-to-person and in the spaces we find ourselves moving in.
As Peggy Tabor Millin writes: “We never touch people so lightly that we do not leave a trace.“
In the next week, I invite you to try this out as you go about your day-to-day. What experiences do people have that we rarely name? Where might simply saying something out loud make it easier for someone else to belong?
You don't have to speak for someone else. You don't have to make assumptions about what another person needs. Sometimes norm-activism simply means noticing an experience, naming it with care, and making a little more room for it.
(Important note: Never put individuals on blast by sharing their names or talking about something you have little knowledge of. A good place to start is to consider the “unspoken experiences” of those closest to you. Then, when and where appropriate, empathetically advocate for people who might have common experiences.)
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