Hope (and Solidarity)
By Rachel Formaro
It was during breakfast time before school, all 10 minutes of it, that my teenage daughter told me how upset she and her friends were about what’s happening in the world — particularly in the U.S. She’d been seeing frightening stories on social media, and she and her classmates had come to dread watching the scheduled “CNN 10” at school each day (CNN 10 is a daily news show for students over 13 and others who want to learn about current events in 10 minutes or less).
I pivoted the conversation to talk about making sure we’re thinking critically, fact-checking stories, and prioritizing our mental and physical health. And keeping hope alive. Two minutes later, I hugged her, told her I loved her, and she was off to school.
The subject of having hope (and hopelessness) has come up at work, in community, and at home. Hope is most commonly defined as “desire accompanied by expectation of or belief in fulfillment” and to “cherish a desire with anticipation: to want something to happen or be true”. I often thought of hope as being closely aligned with optimism; however, I recently read an article from the Global Brain Health Institute that stated “Hope is not optimism, which is a belief that everything will work out. Hope is much more active, a feeling and a mindset that you have to work at in order to achieve your goals, despite trying and extenuating circumstances.”
As someone who has started three different businesses over the course of my career—from my early 20s to my now 50s—I think I’m somewhat wired for hope. Indeed, why would any of us start anything—whether it’s a business, non-profit, study, or family—if we didn’t have hope? Hope is a basic human need, and part of what makes us unique. Hope is also powerful. In a study of adolescents, researchers found that although “hope is a human strength essential for adolescents' enduring and coping with chronic illness,” more work needs to be done to help young people develop and nurture it. It was also hope that sustained me through an acute depression in my 20s.
If you’re in a leadership position, you’re likely called on to provide hope in your organization. In December 2024, Harvard Business Review published an interesting article about hope as a strategy in companies, positioning the concept of hope as a “powerful force in helping organizations thrive.” In an organizational setting, hope can be inspiring, motivating us to create and work toward a collective vision. It can also help protect us from fear and worry. As the author writes, “[hope] also involves willpower (a desire to bring about hoped for outcomes), and waypower (the charting of a clear path to achieve them).”
Recently at Collabry, we started a book club and took a poll to select our first book. We chose Solidarity: The Past, Present, and Future of a World-Changing Idea, by Leah Hunt-Hendrix and Astra Taylor.
According to the authors, solidarity, a concept that dates to ancient Rome, is a considered action by a group of people committed to a vision. So far the book is fascinating, and, for me at least, inspires hope.
Later the same day that my daughter had shared her worries over breakfast, she told me that she’d started following the Sunrise Movement, a youth-led non-profit organization with a focus on climate change through activism for a better world. Seeing what other young people are doing, and that people really care, gives her hope.
What gives me hope is also the power of people coming together. When you look at the recent fires in LA, for example, you see people supporting each other, just like humans have historically done whenever there’s been a large-scale crisis.
Our company, Collabry, gives me hope. It is the power of a collective to imagine and create a different way of working and serving. I know it’s a tagline, but it’s intention, declaration and hope: We are good together.