On Hope

by Do-Hyeong Myeong

June 9th, 2020

My friend who is supposed to start her PhD this September is already apartment-hunting. I warn her that her visa’s may not get processed in time; that there might not be any flights or cross-border buses; that she, a grad student studying literature, may not necessarily be considered as “essential” at least for the purpose of border control. But of course she knows that. All of that. She just wants to leave, to be able to leave, to be able to think she can head somewhere, instead of feeling like she’s trapped at her parents’ place acting as a full-time homeschool teacher for her teenage nephews who follow right-wing YouTubers, think environmental activists are losers, the gender wage gap doesn’t exist, immigrant kids are taking up spots in all the best colleges, and the police aren’t biased against black men. Disturbingly yet day by day, this makes her think maybe the future’s not worth fighting for.

I remember, and she does too, the time when she believed in fighting for the next generation. But from where can meaning arise, for someone who was born into a world of nostalgia? A world of unfulfillable hopes? A world of impending doom? A world that has already ended, and perhaps always has been?

A question that I am not able to answer: how can you tell optimism apart from the moment where you go, “I can’t anymore!” -- and at that moment hope from resignation?

I’ve come to suspect, like Dan Boscov-Ellen in his Spectre article “Infectious Optimism,” optimism comes from avoiding our gaze from looking at this thing that we really need to be looking at. But can you blame that aversion? And how to tell which things are really deserving of our attention and which things aren’t?

“Look, a pretty stone!” a friend sends me a photo of a stone with a rainbow painted on it. It also has a message written: “Rain Brings Rainbow.” Someone has been leaving small, pretty objects around her neighbourhood. Despite my suspicion of optimism, I smile.

It is said that Marx once noted that the revolution comes “like a thief in the night.”[1] I do want, and hope, the revolution to sneak up on me, very much looked forward to yet completely unforeseen. 

By a way of conclusion, an obligatory note of hope: “Disruption can be life-saving and life-affirming. It, too, is essential work.”[2]

Inspirations for the week

Boscov-Ellen, Dan. 2020. “Infectious Optimism: Notes on COVID-19 and Climate Change.” https://spectrejournal.com/infectious-optimism/

Offill, Jenny. 2020. Weather: A Novel.

Spectre Editing Board. 2020. “Theses on the Uprising: Dangerous Times.” https://spectrejournal.com/theses-on-the-uprising/ 

[1] C.L.R. James’ Eulogy to Walter Rodney. The quote is after Marx.

[2] “Theses on the Uprising: Dangerous Times.” Spectre Editing Board.