Advocacy is a powerful tool for change that takes many forms – speaking out on behalf of someone, arguing for a cause or defending a position on a controversial issue.

But what makes someone decide to stand up and speak out? And what keeps them going?

While the psychology of motivation is complex, says Dr. Rodney Schmaltz, broadly speaking in terms of advocacy, it comes down to the basics of intrinsic versus extrinsic motivation. Even if someone believes that taking action on an issue or standing up for another person is important, they aren't likely to stick with it over the long term if their only motivation is receiving an external reward or avoiding consequences. 

"You need to make sure you have the right fit," explains Dr. Schmaltz. "If an advocate finds what they are doing inherently rewarding and it aligns with their values and interests, the literature tells us they will be more likely to continue and do more.” 

A person's passion for a cause alone doesn't ensure they'll keep supporting it if they don't find the activities rewarding, he continues. “Someone might recognize the value of certain volunteer efforts, but if the tasks aren't enjoyable to them, they're likely to pull back."

In other words, the advocacy itself needs to be the reward. But personality also plays a role. 

"There are correlations between openness to experiences and people with high empathy," explains the psychology professor. "If a person is more empathetic and can put themselves in someone else's shoes, they might be more likely to become an advocate."

When we asked four MacEwan researchers how advocacy ties to their scholarly work, they told us that whether they're studying climate change, youth transitioning out of foster care, children's rights or the performing arts, their approach shares one thing in common: centring the voices of people directly impacted by the issues they seek to address. 

Urban wellness injects humanity into climate policy 

Along with studying public policy, laws and budgets, advocacy is an important part of a political scientist's job description, says Dr. Marielle Papin. 

"Many people who have power and a voice will say things as if they were speaking the truth," explains the newly named Canada Research Chair in Urban Wellness (Urban Policy and Governance)." Our role as political scientists is to shed light on bias and other possible truths and meanings – and to make sure citizens understand those layers of meaning."

When it comes to climate policy – Dr. Papin's area of study – that means taking a hard look at power dynamics, which voices are heard and how decisions are made. She says looking to climate scientists for all the answers, for example, doesn't tell the whole story. 

"Often, what seems like a technical choice is a political one," she says. "Political scientists look at the human element – what making different choices will mean to society, the values behind implementing a particular solution and the political ramifications that could come with it."

That's exactly what Dr. Papin is doing with research that looks at urban wellness as a framework that might help reframe reluctance around implementing climate policy – that it's expensive, driven by the elite and being imposed on more socially marginalized groups. How? By putting people, especially those whose voices are often not heard, at the centre of the conversation.

The idea of a just transition – greening the economy in a fair, inclusive way and creating work opportunities so that no one is left behind – is integral to Dr. Papin's study of urban wellness. Because considering wellness, both now and in the future, can inject humanity into policy, she says. 

"The goal of climate policy is to make sure people's lives are better, not worse. But by enforcing a strong climate policy – thinking of targets for 2030 or 2050 – the urgency of the situation can make us forget about those vulnerable people."

She adds that some of the most vulnerable individuals and communities in the move to green the economy are workers in the oil and gas industry. Addressing urban wellness includes advocating for those workers – creating policies that consider them and mechanisms to prevent negative consequences.

"As with all marginalized groups, we need to include them in the process rather than just assuming that they do not want to be part of it," she says. 

People, not objects: Including children in the conversation

How childhood and climate justice intersect has been on Dr. Noah Kenneally's mind a lot lately. 

While climate change will undoubtedly impact the future of today's young children, they're generally not included in decision-making. Neglecting to include very young people in conversations about their future, however, is nothing new, according to Dr. Kenneally. 

The assistant professor in the Department of Human Services and Early Learning was a young person himself when he realized that children didn't seem to have much say in what was happening around them. Ever since, he's been advocating for children's rights through art, education and research. 

"Children are often considered objects because of this idea that they are not yet people – that they're growing into people – but children are already people in the present," he says. "For a long time, I've been curious about how children understand their rights and how to make those rights clear and concrete." 

Rather than using the dominant understanding of children's rights as an abstract concept in an international treaty adopted by governments and put into law, Dr. Kenneally, a relational sociologist, uses the lens of relationships.

In collaboration with ELM (Early Learning at MacEwan) and Shaking the Movers, he is exploring the right to belong and how to cultivate that sense of belonging from the perspectives of very young children, educators and families.

In the face of climate change, poverty and other systemic societal problems, belonging might not seem like a priority. But as Dr. Kenneally explains, advocacy is about more than just big-ticket issues. 

"I have been privileged to witness young children being advocates for each other in small, tiny gestures – a child bringing another child who is crying a water bottle to show that they see them, acknowledge they are upset and offer to help."

Those types of interactions, he explains, set the foundation to create good citizens. 

"Children may not have a voice at the table when it comes to voting, deciding how often we're going to pave the roads or making transit accessible, but working with children in a way that considers their rights in a conscious and thoughtful way creates the building blocks that will prepare them to do those things in the future." 

Dr. Kenneally also ensures his Bachelor of Early Learning and Curriculum Studies students see how advocacy is critical to ethical practice. "As educators, we can amplify the voices of young children and equip them with the awareness that they have a voice and can speak on behalf of themselves and others who can't."

Living history museums create solidarity across time

Giving voice to people who no longer have one – literally – is the focus of one of Dr. Heather Fitzsimmons Frey's research projects. In partnership with Fort Edmonton Park, the Ukrainian Cultural Heritage Village and Heritage Park in Calgary, she studies how young volunteers and staff shape visitor experiences.

"Young people often represent the future for us, but in the context of living history museums, they're also representing the past," says the associate professor of arts and cultural management. "I wondered what it was like for them to be doing both at the same time."

Early in the research, she found that the connections these teens were making went far beyond the historical dress they wore. Young people were shaping narratives to share during their work and volunteer shifts and asking challenging questions about queer identities, women, Indigeneity, people of colour and children.

One Fort Edmonton Park summer employee preparing to work on the midway told Dr. Fitzsimmons Frey how she found herself thinking about why a young person in the early 1900s might have found themselves there. As she dug into her past, she realized her great-grandmother had been on her own during the First World War after her brother and father were sent to one of Canada's 24 Ukrainian internment camps. She used that story to build a narrative about her character – if a guest asked her why she was working at the midway, she told them about the internment camps.  

"This 14-year-old girl was complicating histories of midways in Fort Edmonton Park," says Dr. Fitzsimmons Frey. "She wasn't trying to keep people from having a good time riding the Ferris wheel, but she was getting them to think about these layers of our histories and making sure important narratives are part of the stories we hear and how we shape ourselves as Albertans."

By shaping those narratives in solidarity with people of the past and present – many of whom have been invisible – young people are engaging in advocacy, she says. 

"Living history museums can create solidarity between people across time. They're making so many different people's voices heard as part of the histories they're sharing."

And while they tell stories that challenge us to learn from complex parts of our past, they also focus on joy. There are Indigenous and settler children's games, opportunities to learn about making – and eating – foods, and there are chances for visitors to reflect on their own stories and family experiences.

"Young people's ideas and questions can reshape how we tell our history," says Dr. Fitzsimmons Frey. "They advocate for people in the past, and for people they care about today."

Fixing fundamental flaws: Preparing young adults aging out of foster care

Rebecca Stiller says that helping young people find their voice is a tenet of child and youth care. But when you're part of huge systems – children's services, health or justice – it isn't always easy to be heard. 

"Self-advocating is difficult if you don't believe what you have to say is important," says the Department of Child and Youth Care assistant professor. "Building relationships that position the children, youth and families we work with as experts is key – we may have specialized knowledge, but we're never the expert on somebody else's life."

Honouring the experiences and expertise of young people is at the heart of a community-engaged research project that aims to provide meaningful resources for youth transitioning from care to adulthood. 

"We know from reports across North America that young people aging out of the system are categorically unprepared to do so," says Stiller. "There are many big, systemic reasons for that, but one is that our model for teaching life skills is fundamentally flawed in its assumption that anyone can learn everything they need to know to be an adult before they turn 18."

With the aim of rectifying that, Stiller's social work colleague, Faye Hamilton, formed a research team that has the two MacEwan researchers working alongside young people who have lived experience in the care system and community partners from the Organization for the Prevention of Violence and the Office of the Child and Youth Advocate. 

Because even when resources exist, says Stiller, they don't necessarily reflect a young person's experience. While a YouTube video that teaches you how to tie a tie or a PDF that lists things you need to know to prepare for a job interview are helpful, they don’t necessarily address the bigger skills needed to succeed as an adult. 

“Setting boundaries in a relationship or navigating financial decisions are complex and go beyond simple tasks on a checklist,” she says. “And existing resources don't necessarily take a trauma-informed approach or consider the lack of support that young people may have had during their experiences in care."

That's why asking young people what content they need and how it should be delivered is so important. To do that, the research team is conducting a series of focus groups and asking people with lived experience transitioning out of care, young people currently in the system working toward that transition and the professionals who work with them what they want to see in life skills education and development. 

After collecting the data, the plan is to develop digital, on-demand life skills education created for and by young people.

"At its core, this project is about creating space for young voices to be heard and centred in the conversation in a way they haven't been before," says Stiller.

Considering an advocacy role? 

Whether you're taking up the mantle for climate change, speaking out about children's rights or speaking out for any cause, Dr. Schmaltz has some thoughts on what psychology tells us about setting yourself up for success. 

First, make sure the cause matches your values. "It has to be something you really care about," he says. "That may be intuitive, but sometimes people take on an issue that they know is important but they're not personally invested in. There are a lot of great causes out there, but just because you're not actively advocating for one doesn't mean you're not supporting that cause."

Second, start small. The big picture is important, says Dr. Schmaltz, but small, achievable goals make big things more manageable – and rewarding. You can always take on more when you know it's a good fit. 

And lastly, don't lock yourself in. "Experiment and see if a cause is a good fit; if it's not working, try something else."

How does Dr. Schmaltz say you’ll know you've found the right match? "You'll want to do more."