So, Is She “Woke”?

Someone once pulled my partner aside when I was new to their social circle and asked him, with genuine concern:

“Is she woke?”

Not curiously or jokingly, but with concern, as if I carried something contagious.

And honestly, I’ve thought about that moment a lot since. Because what does “woke” even mean anymore?

A quick online search will bring up the definition for 'woke' as follows:

" 'Woke' means being aware of social and political unfairness, especially racism. Originally from African American English, it now has two main meanings: a positive focus on equality, and a negative political label for extreme views."

Somewhere along the line, the word stopped meaning socially aware and became shorthand for “annoying,” “sensitive,” “radical,” “self-righteous,” or simply (in my opinion), “someone who makes me uncomfortable.”

But maybe discomfort is the point.

I’ll be the first to admit my own bias here. I’ve used loaded language before. I’ve called people bigots, I’ve used terms like 'conservative' dismissively. I’m not writing this from some morally perfect pedestal pretending I’m above division or frustration. It happens in all circles of values and opinions. But I also think we need to stop pretending there aren’t real issues beneath these conversations. If someone is racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, or dehumanising toward others- what exactly are we meant to call that?

At what point does “difference of opinion” become harm?

Still, I understand why some people recoil at modern activism. Like any movement rooted in social change, there are extremes. There are spaces where people are publicly shamed instead of educated, mistakes are treated as unforgivable, where fear of saying the wrong thing silences honest conversation. That intolerance exists too and it builds walls, it shuts conversations down before they can have any effect.

The conversation has never been tidy.

Yet, what fascinates me most, are the current stereotypes attached to “wokeness.” We see the mocking of dyed hair, hairy armpits, gender fluidity, pronouns, men expressing emotion, women rejecting traditional femininity, people existing outside rigid expectations. These things are mocked as though they symbolise societal collapse, when often they simply represent people feeling free enough to exist honestly.

And, quite frankly, what a beautiful thing that is.

To live visibly, to reject shame, to soften, to question, to explore identity, to feel safe or brave enough to become yourself instead of performing how the world told you to be. That takes extreme courage. Especially in a world that punishes difference so aggressively. And when reflecting through this lens, it's clear to see that many people are not angry at “wokeness", they are uncomfortable with freedom. Not freedom in the political sense, but, the freedom to challenge tradition and to reject outdated norms. The freedom to say: "this version of life doesn’t fit me, this system harms people, I want something kinder.”

And that terrifies people who have spent their entire lives being taught that conformity equals safety. So instead of curiosity, there is ridicule, instead of reflection, defensiveness, and instead of empathy, suspicion continues to harbour and ferment.

And what’s saddest is that so much of this anger is misdirected, because the people blamed most aggressively for society’s discomfort are often the least powerful within it.

Queer people, trans people, immigrants, activists, feminists, marginalised communities simply asking to exist safely and equally. Meanwhile, the systems genuinely exploiting people continue largely untouched. The billionaires, the corporations, the structures profiting from exhaustion, division, poverty, and fear.

Ah, but you see - division is profitable.

A population busy fighting a cultural/societal war rarely turns its attention toward economic inequality, corruption, environmental destruction, failing healthcare systems, unaffordable housing, or the disproportionate concentration of wealth among a tiny percentage of society.

It is easier to blame the vulnerable than confront the powerful. It is easier to mock the person with blue hair than ask why ordinary people are struggling more than ever despite working harder than ever. It's easier to fear the emotionally expressive man than question why generations were taught to suppress vulnerability until it turned into rage, isolation, alcoholism or violence. Easier to attack people exploring identity than critically examine the systems that taught us difference is dangerous in the first place.

Fear is easier than self-reflection and fear spreads quickly when people are struggling.

That’s what makes these conversations so difficult. People cling tightly to certainty when life already feels unstable. Change feels threatening when people are exhausted, financially insecure, disconnected, and overwhelmed. It becomes comforting to believe someone else is responsible for society’s discomfort. The “other", the outsider, the woke person, the immigrant (often doubled with 'illegal'), the activist, the trans person, the feminist.

Anyone but ourselves. Anyone but the systems above us.

And yet, when you strip away the labels, the outrage, the headlines, and the political branding, what are most people actually asking for?

Dignity, safety, equality, belonging, the freedom to exist without shame or fear.

Why is that so threatening? Why is empathy embarrassing?Why is compassion mocked?Why is caring about other people now seen as weakness?

I don’t think most people are truly afraid of “wokeness.” I think they are afraid of what happens when old systems, identities, and hierarchies are questioned. Afraid of losing familiarity. Afraid of uncertainty. Afraid that if someone else gains visibility, voice, or equality, somehow there will be less left for them.

But equality was never a subtraction; it has never been a zero sum equation.

Someone else being free does not prevent or suppress you.

Someone else being visible does not erase you.

Someone else being safe does not threaten your existence.

If anything, a world where people can exist authentically without fear is a healthier world for everyone. And if believing that makes me “woke,” then fine, to answer your question:

I would rather be accused of caring too much than praised for caring too little.