The End of Capitalism Is Not Our End: Notes from Shanghai & EcoDharma Intensives (Part 1 of 3)

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness…" —Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

We are living in Dickensian times, commonly known as a period of sharp contradictions. Class struggle is acute within the U.S. as growing economic disparity and unending crises fuel spontaneous unrest and organized resistance. The class antagonisms between the working class and the ruling elite are felt daily as the many struggle to survive while the few hoard resources and power. Corporate profits rapidly increase while workers' wages stagnate, and employment is precarious within an economy that has devolved into speculative markets where few material goods are produced. Inflation is at an all-time high, forcing families into impossible choices.

Our institutions and culture reflect an empire in decline, grasping for dominance as the global balance of power is being reshaped into a ‘multi-polar’ world order. With increasing state violence and censorship at home and imperialist acts of terror abroad, the US empire further delegitimizes itself as the ‘leader of the free world.’ The popular dystopic view of the future reflects back to us a truth: the vicious cycle of capitalism cannot be reformed or saved. We are flooded with stories of global collapse—from climate catastrophe and nuclear war genres to the imminent subjugation of humanity by unregulated, power-hungry technology.

And yet: the end of capitalism is not our end.

How can I say so definitively? In honor of the recent passing of Assata Shakur, I’ll begin with my visit to Cuba in 2022, as a delegate with Witness for Peace Solidarity Collective. In my limited time on the island, I was honored to witness and experience the revolution deeply embedded in Cuban culture and infrastructure. Despite decades of economic strangulation via blockades and military threat (from failed assassination attempts of Fidel to the most recent indictment of Former President Raúl Castro as a pretext for war), and the daily grating of precarious conditions, the centering of human life remains visible and tangible. We spoke with doctors in community clinics about how they managed COVID and developed a vaccine. We learned from students at the Latin American School of Medicine (ELAM) how they are trained in a Cuban healthcare system that values universal healthcare for everyone. We visited farms and talked with farmers about their cooperatives and Tarea Vida: Cuba's climate commitment. Cuba's existence as a sovereign nation and living human development project is a beacon of light. More so, they have been a safe haven for Black revolutionary political prisoners. Cuba promotes peace, sovereignty, and provides critical healthcare to nations throughout the Global South.  ¡Hasta la victoria siempre!

Building upon this life-changing experience, my recent visit to Shanghai in April inspired this reflection. Shanghai is where solarpunk futuristic images come alive: an abundance of nature woven into the city, electric cars making a bustling metropolis oddly quiet, light rail systems humming efficiently—there is an aliveness to the city (from people to malls to parks and restaurants). The political difference is that these are state-planned, centralized systems seeking to develop their productive forces for the long-term health and well-being of its people. I don't mean to idealize—every society has its own contradictions to contend with. The masses of everyday people who live there understand it best. The key takeaway: alternative ways of living and organizing society are not only possible but powerful, especially when the state is the people’s state and actualizing their interests. 

I had the opportunity to visit Shanghai with Chozen-ji Zen dojo to participate in a boxing intensive at Aboro Academy with the amazing world champion Michelle Aboro, as an extension of Zen training. My dear friend describes Zen training as the ultimate ego-killer. This three-part reflection will conjure the lessons that are sticking with me. In Part 1, I will begin with this: the willingness to see and be with it all—the beauty, the suffering, the complexity—and to ask myself, what is my responsibility to this moment in history?

Despite my developed political consciousness, some things just need to be felt. I came to China and quickly realized that the center of the world exists somewhere else. Many more Americans need to be rocked by this. Coming from a country that is turning 250 years old, and stepping into a place where history and time are measured by dynasties, is strangely disorienting and grounding. Further, to feel the wonder of "stepping into the future"—a future that feels so far from possible in the U.S.—and the shock of emerging from the dark ages only to return back to them.

The return home—the contrast stings.

It is painful to confront the reality of racialized capitalism's dominance—how it devastates our lives and our planet, how it distorts consciousness, and how it limits human potential. We are shaped by the world we live in. Each of us has been touched by its tentacles. It is the water we swim in—and still we long for something more.

So much arises: dread, the deep desire to run away and romanticize another place, to close our eyes and bury our heads—to simply get through the day and survive. We may be unwilling to see what we actually face because it feels too overwhelming, and we question our ability to meet the moment. Or we overidealize and pretend that things will magically come together, that we will reach a new, better reality through spontaneity alone.

Reactionary tendencies can take hold and cloud the way forward.

The lesson is to be with it all—the hope, the fear, the uncertainty—so that the call becomes clear and we find our path to sharpening our ability to respond. 

Everything is connected. Politics are embedded in every facet of our lives. While broader U.S. political discourse is reduced to parties, voting, and occasionally policy, politics is actually about how power is wielded and on whose behalf. It is how our labor is organized, how resources are distributed, and how social structures function. "Opting out" of politics or compartmentalizing it are bourgeois myths. We either implicitly consent to existing systems, or we resist and create anew. As the U.S. facade crumbles, everyday people have few reasons left to maintain the status quo under escalating dehumanizing conditions. And as our working-class consciousness grows, we begin to discern that calls for reform will never be enough—they are driven by the interests of the ruling class and bourgeoisie.

And so, whether you are someone becoming politicized in this moment or a veteran organizer/political worker, I invite you into reflection with me:

• Inspired by Assata Shakur: What is my duty? What is our duty?

• Inspired by Zen Roshis (who teach that responsibility is our ability to respond): 

How am I sharpening my capacity to respond to what is arising in this moment?

Let's ground these questions in the body.

Invitation to Practice

You can stand or sit.

Close your eyes or soften your gaze, allowing your eyes to land 2–3 feet away.

Feel the ground beneath your feet. Allow yourself to be rooted in the earth.

As you remain rooted, feel the length of the spine up through the top of your head, as if being pulled toward the sky.

While holding the length of the body—our dignity—come into your center. This is the place where all the vital organs are alive. Notice your core, your life force, your breath.

While holding the length and center of your body, come into the width of your body. 

Feel from shoulder to shoulder, one hip to the next, left foot to right foot. 

Then feel out into all the other living beings we are connected to.

As you feel into the full length, center, and width of this body, gently ask the questions:

• What is my/our duty?

• How am I/we ready to respond to the call?

• What else do I/we need to know, to grow, to transform? 

Pause. Listen. Ask again.

In Part 2, we will dig deeply into these questions together and explore the concept of protagonism through my personal reflection on duty.