Rest is a form of resistance because it asserts our humanity. — Tricia Hersey
—What lingers after this line?
One-minute reflection
Why might this line matter today, not tomorrow?
Why Rest Becomes a Defiant Act
Tricia Hersey’s claim begins with a reversal: what looks passive is recast as deliberate opposition. In cultures that equate worth with output, choosing to rest can function like a refusal to be measured only by productivity. By naming rest “resistance,” Hersey highlights how the body itself becomes a site where social expectations are either absorbed or challenged. From there, the quote presses a moral point: rest is not merely a personal preference but a statement about what a human being is allowed to need. If exhaustion is treated as normal, then recuperation can read as dissent—an insistence that life is more than labor and that limits deserve respect.
Work Cultures That Erase the Person
To understand the force of the statement, it helps to notice what it pushes against: systems that reward constant availability and punish slowness. Whether in hourly jobs with unpredictable schedules or salaried roles with always-on communication, the implicit message is that the “good” worker is endlessly responsive. Over time, this logic can reduce people to instruments rather than full lives. Consequently, rest becomes a boundary that interrupts this reduction. By stepping back—turning off notifications, declining extra shifts, or taking a real day off—someone asserts they are not a machine. The quote’s emphasis on “our humanity” makes this interruption central, framing rest as a refusal to accept dehumanizing norms.
Humanity Means Needs, Limits, and Care
Hersey’s wording also expands the meaning of humanity beyond abstract dignity into concrete realities: sleep, stillness, recovery, and the freedom to be unproductive without shame. In this sense, rest is a declaration that bodies have rhythms that cannot be negotiated away. It insists that hunger, fatigue, and emotional depletion are not personal failures but human signals. From that perspective, resting is less about indulgence and more about care—both self-care and communal care—because a society that denies rest often normalizes burnout and disposability. By honoring limits, rest quietly defends the idea that people deserve gentleness and time, even when no external reward is attached.
A Lineage of Rest as Social Refusal
Historically, resistance is often imagined as protest marches or public speeches, yet refusal can also be practiced through everyday choices about time and energy. Labor histories show that controlling time—through demands for weekends, eight-hour workdays, or paid leave—has been a recurring battleground. In that broader struggle, rest reads as a claim to life beyond extraction. Building on that lineage, Hersey’s quote suggests that rest is not merely recovery after resistance; it can be resistance itself. The quiet act of stopping participates in a larger argument: that human life should not be organized solely around maximizing output, and that time can be reclaimed as something other than a resource to be mined.
Rest as a Practice, Not a Slogan
Still, the quote gains power when it becomes practical. Rest-as-resistance can look like protecting sleep, taking breaks without apologizing, or creating small rituals of stillness that are treated as non-negotiable. Even modest acts—like sitting down during a shift when possible, or refusing to glorify overwork in conversation—can reshape what feels permissible. Finally, Hersey’s idea invites a collective dimension: when groups normalize rest, they weaken the stigma attached to it. In that way, resting does not only restore an individual; it can model a different standard of worth. The assertion of humanity becomes contagious, and resistance takes the form of a shared permission to be fully, vulnerably human.