“Change requires hope. Hope requires action”—why Munroe Bergdorf is hopeful for the future

In a letter written exclusively for Vogue, British model and activist Munroe Bergdorf reflects on 2020, and how hope can activate real change.

Well, this year has definitely been one for the books. It seems that every day just gets more and more bizarre and challenging as we fall deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole that is 2020. But as difficult and disconcerting as the past six months have been, there is still hope; there is always hope. You just have to know where to look.

Wild though these times are, we have never been as informed en masse as much as we are right now—that is something worth celebrating. Imagine navigating this pandemic without access to social media, without being able to interact and add your voice to a news feed that holds governments and corporate entities accountable for their actions. Social media enables us to question the bias of the mainstream media, to notice patterns, to call out corruption and to reframe the same false narratives that in yesteryear would be unwittingly accepted as ‘truth’. We have never been as awake as a society as we are now, which means that it’s harder for those in power to pull the wool over the eyes of the general public, especially during a massively vulnerable and tumultuous point in history. So let’s celebrate that and keep pushing forward.

Accountability culture is alive and well. While some in positions of power may feel like they are being idly ‘cancelled’, we are living in a time where those who wield power irresponsibly now have to face up to the consequences of their actions. We live in a democracy where freedom of speech should be protected at all costs. But exercising your freedom of speech is not the same as exercising, inciting or encouraging hate speech. It’s about holding people accountable for their actions. We need to ensure that we are solution based and focused on resolve, rather than just on revenge or public shaming. We need to encourage a culture where people aren’t afraid to be held accountable; where it’s OK to change your mind; where people are encouraged to grow rather than forever being seen as their worst public moment. I feel hopeful that we’ll get there.

Lockdown has been disruptive for all of us, but it has also forced us all to address the parts of our lives that we had previously accepted as ‘necessity’, and question the role that they could or should play within our futures. Before the pandemic hit, I felt like I was on a treadmill. My schedule was relentless, but I coped by attaching personal fulfilment to the feeling of being busy. While ‘being busy’ looks great from the outside, behind closed doors, my mental health was slipping as I was struggling to keep up with the pace, attention, demand and expectations of the industry. Slowing down has taught me that attaching my self-worth to how productive I am is not a sustainable game plan. As difficult as this period has been, it has served as somewhat of a wake-up call, a recalibration of sorts, allowing me to recognise which parts of my old life I want to take with me into my new normal; allowing me to gain perspective to realise what is important to me, what no longer serves me and what needs leaving behind in order for me to grow.

As a queer person, as a black person, as a trans person, as a woman, I have hope because our histories as marginalised people has shown that in difficult times, culture thrives. Marginalised communities have consistently demonstrated that adversity is an opportunity to come together and we have never been as rallied, as organised and as ready as we are currently. From Black Lives Matter, to LGBTQ+ Pride, to #MeToo, marginalised voices are now being heard louder than ever and representation of our stories has never been as authentic and widespread as it is right now. We are having the difficult conversations that for decades have been swept under the rug, ignored, avoided or watered down. Black Lives Matter may well be the biggest civil rights movement in history. Living in a time where I can witness this kind of change first hand gives me hope for a better, more inclusive and fairer future.

The bold, brave and innovative voices of our younger generations make me feel hopeful for a better future. Their fearlessness in tackling existential issues such as climate change, racism, gender and sexuality inspires me. Their refusal to be defined by the rigid constraints and labels of the present and past inspires me. I can’t wait to watch them change the world and restructure it in a way that works for everyone, rather than just for some. They seem to be able to identify and resist against the same systems of oppression that my generation and generations before me were told didn’t exist or to not speak about. But that being said, we cannot rely on younger generations to change what we have not been able to. If we don’t change how we are living with regards to sustainability and ethical consumption, we risk leaving behind an inhabitable planet, where changing the world becomes less and less possible.

In these times of change, it is imperative that we understand the importance of human difference; that we honour what makes us different, not just what makes us the same. The only way we will progress, instigate and implement change is if every one of us becomes an ally to someone who is not like us. Hate cannot thrive within educated, humble and empathetic minds, so I hope that in reading this you are also encouraged to hold yourself accountable as you do others, to be the change that you want to see and understand that we all have a part to play in making this world a better place. But to do so, we need to work together. I hope we can. Change requires hope. Hope requires action.

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