Everywhere you look—politics, culture, media—there’s a creeping sense of exhaustion.
People demand radical upheaval, and when they don’t get it, they retreat—watching from the sidelines, narrating with their own sardonic commentary. Boy do I know that tendency well.
Cynicism requires no effort, no commitment, no belief in anything beyond your own disillusionment.
Right now, cynicism is fueling a dangerous withdrawal from collective action, leaving a vacuum that is ripe for authoritarian creep, isolationism, and individualism at the expense of the greater good.
If we want to shift culture, we need something stronger than outrage or despair. We need hope.
And in an era where people are losing patience, hopeful storytelling might be the only tool we have left to remind people of what matters.
I feel so naive writing these words, which is the problem isn’t it? Hope isn’t just fragile—it’s cringe these days.
But hope shouldn’t be an emotion from a bygone era. It seems like we’ve lost touch with ways to consistently express it in a post-modern world. In the process we are failing to create any forward momentum, which has people either dissociating or looking to the past.
A certain four-word campaign slogan that uses “again” is just an 80s reboot. So is Top Gun, Beverly Hills Cop, and increasingly fashionable zoomers on Tiktok.
I recently got an injection of hope, like a junkie mainlining Obama speeches.
I had the chance to see 94 year old labor activist Dolores Huerta — a key figure alongside Cesar Chavez in achieving substantial labor wins in this country — speak at Pull Focus, a gathering of impact filmmakers and funders at The Impact Lounge at Sundance Film Festival. She was there alongside filmmaker Gregory Nava (El Norte, Selena), delivering what can only be described as a pep talk for the soul.
Her message? Independent filmmaking isn’t just an art form—it’s a tool for shaping culture.
This is a woman who has spent seven decades fighting for civil rights and political change, who has been beaten, arrested, and told a thousand times that she’s asking for too much. And yet, there she was: sharp, fiery, still pushing forward with unshakable optimism.
It struck me how easy it is to dismiss incremental change when you’re sitting on the sidelines. And how dangerous it is to let cynicism become an excuse for inaction.
If a 94-year-old activist can still believe in the power of storytelling to move culture, what’s my excuse?
Cynicism convinces us the world is beyond saving.
Storytelling reminds us why we should try anyway.
But if we want storytelling to actually move culture, we need to rethink how we approach it.
Right now, a lot of activism is too broad, too bitter, and too focused on rhetorical “wins” instead of actual human connection. We need a shift:
(1) Make the Fight Local (Change Starts in Front of You)
(2) Tell Stories That Build Bridges, Not Just Arguments (Stop Chasing Rhetorical Victories)
(3) Choose Hope Over Bitterness (Narratives of Possibility)
To achieve large-scale narrative shifts we must start small.
Funders: Don’t look for big splashy statements. Invest in intimate, human stories that build real connections.
Filmmakers & Creators: The stories you tell matter. Even if they feel small, they are part of something bigger. Don’t try to swallow the whole elephant.
The world doesn’t change all at once. It changes through a slow accumulation.
“It’s not one film. It’s 5 films, a book, a podcast and a riot that will change something.” — Jon-Sesrie Goff, Ford Foundation
And hey, even if we struggle to believe in all this, Dolores Huerta still does. I ain’t going to be the one to let her down.