Imagine this: a nurse steps out of her hospital after a 14-hour shift and finds a bag of groceries on her doorstep—left there by a neighbor who works at the market. Across town, that same grocer just got his bike tuned up for free by a mechanic whose child was cared for by a retired teacher organizing a pop-up daycare for working parents. No one asked for permission. No one waited for a leader. They just did it—because they understood one thing:
We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.
Solidarity isn’t charity. It’s not pity. It’s not even kindness for the sake of being nice. Solidarity is shared power. It’s looking at someone else’s struggle and saying, “That’s mine, too.” It’s showing up, again and again, because you know your future depends on theirs.
We’re told to go it alone. That if we just work hard enough, or smart enough, or stay quiet enough, things will turn out fine. But we know better. We’ve seen billionaires make more in a minute than most of us will in a lifetime. We’ve seen our labor turned into someone else’s luxury. And we’ve felt the sting of being told we’re replaceable.
That lie ends here.
Worker solidarity is not an idea for someday. It’s a living, breathing force that we make real by choosing to stand with each other—today, tomorrow, and every day after. It’s the lunch shared on a picket line. It’s the community fridge on the corner. It’s the union formed in a breakroom. It’s the shout of “we’ve got your back” echoing down the street when someone’s rent strike gets serious.
Solidarity isn’t about all agreeing on everything. It’s about moving in the same direction, even if we take different paths. It’s a mosaic, not a mirror. Everyone’s welcome. Everyone matters. No one’s too small to make a difference, and no one’s so big that they can do it alone.
You don’t need a title. You don’t need permission. You don’t even need experience. You need only to care—and to act. Someone somewhere is waiting to see if anyone will take the first step. You can be that person.
Start small. Start now. Check in on a co-worker. Pass around a petition. Host a potluck. Show up when it counts. Or just listen. That’s how it begins. Every movement that ever changed the world began with a handful of people who refused to accept things as they were.
There is no cavalry coming.
But look around: you are surrounded by the strongest, smartest, most resourceful force on Earth—the working class, in all its colors, languages, genders, and genius.
Solidarity is not a dream. It’s a decision. And when enough of us make it, nothing can stop us.
So make it.
Together, we rise.
If you believe in building something better, not just fighting what’s broken, download this short statement on what worker solidarity looks like. Print it, post it, pass it on. This isn’t just a call to action—it’s a vision to build from. Let’s make it real, together.
Occupy 2.5 