Mike De La Rocha is a man of many roles. As the author of “Sacred Lessons: Teaching My Father How To Love”, he has written a book that teaches men to unburden themselves from the weight of the patriarchy and accept vulnerability as a strength instead of a weakness. As a singer-songwriter, De La Rocha has transformed music into calls for action and anthems for social justice movements. As founder of Revolve Impact with a background in politics, he has been able to create an agency that embraces storytelling and creates campaigns that push for action. To learn more about Mike De La Rocha and the roles he’s played in pursuit of creating real change, read on.

Where are you based?
I am based in Los Angeles, CA.

You’ve been described as a visionary strategist, social justice changemaker, musician, and artist. How did you start down this path?
I was blessed to be raised by two incredible parents who instilled in me at an early age the importance of giving back to the community. My mother and father were both teachers who gave so much of themselves, ensuring that everyone had access to an education that taught them not only about life, but about the importance of knowing one’s cultural lineages and culture.

Growing up in a predominantly white community in the 1980s and 1990s was extremely hard. I often felt like I didn’t fit in or belong. That’s why I always say that punk rock, skateboarding and surfing saved my life. Within those subcultures, I found community. I found a sense of belonging, I found myself. It was folks who were oftentimes outcasted, forgotten, or not understood from the dominant society who made me feel safe and seen. It was in these communities where I not only found a home, but where I learned about the power of music to bring people together. That’s what led me to form my first punk band at the age of 12 years old and to still be performing in ON/NOTICE, an electronic rock band, today. It’s about using art and music to bring people together to change ourselves and in the process the world.

You are also an author. Can you tell us a bit about your new book: Sacred Lessons: Teaching My Father How to Love?
Sacred Lessons: Teaching My Father How to Love is my attempt to make sense of the loss of my father, and the factors that led to his early death. In the wake of his sudden passing, I found myself searching for answers, only to uncover a deeper truth: he had been dying long before his body gave out. What killed my father wasn’t his recurring health problems — it was silence. A lifetime of suppressing pain, not knowing how to ask for help, and wearing the hardened mask of masculinity. The invisible weight of patriarchy crushed him slowly. Sacred Lessons is my love letter to him and to every man who has been taught that vulnerability is weakness. It’s my invitation for men to unlearn, to feel, and to heal before it’s too late.

What were some of the most challenging parts of revisiting your personal history while writing Sacred Lessons: Teaching My Father How to Love? What did you learn about yourself in the process?
One of the most challenging parts of writing Sacred Lessons: Teaching My Father How To Love was facing the truths I’d spent a lifetime trying to outrun. Writing Sacred Lessons forced me to confront my childhood traumas, the unspoken parts of my relationship with my father, and the ways that I had abandoned parts of myself in order to survive. Every morning, I would wake up at 5am, do my daily rituals and prayers and then start writing about the parts of myself that scared me the most. It wasn’t just storytelling, it was an intimate healing journey. I wrote to exorcise my shame, grief, and self-doubt, peeling back the layers until only my most vulnerable truth remained. In that space, I found healing. I found myself. I discovered that writing, like all art, is sacred medicine.

You describe the book as a journey of “breaking generational cycles” and “redefining manhood.” What does a liberated form of masculinity look like to you?
I was humbled to have some of the most incredible people endorse Sacred Lessons. Among them is Father Greg Boyle, founder of Homeboy Industries, the world’s largest gang-rehabilitation program, who says, “Sacred Lessons is much like the monarch butterfly, it points beyond itself to the connection for which we all long. The tenderness of this book carries the soul to repair what is severed and cherish the vulnerability of our kinship with each other. This fine book reminds us not to ‘break the cycle’ but to heal it.” I love this quote because it really is about finding ways to heal ourselves, and the cycles that have made us who we are. For me, men have been taught too long that strength is defined by isolation, and emotional distance. This is worse than a myth, this is an outright lie. Redefining manhood means showing men that true strength lies in our ability to express ourselves without shame or judgement. True strength lies in our ability to be vulnerable. True strength lies in our ability to give and receive love.

The act of teaching a parent how to love is both intimate and radical. What are some of the “sacred lessons” you feel all of us could learn from?
One of the most powerful sacred lessons I’ve relearned is this: healing doesn’t happen in isolation, it happens in community. Western culture often teaches us that healing is a solo journey, but our ancestral wisdom tells us a different story. Across cultures, healing has always been communal, rooted in ceremony, song, and the shared presence of others. It’s in circle, in connection, and especially in nature where the deepest transformations occur. That’s been one of the most powerful parts of this entire writing journey, remembering that the medicine that we all need lies within us. Our traditions, our rituals, our stories, they’re not just remnants of the past, they’re blueprints for our collective healing. That the signs that we seek, the teachers that we need literally are all around us: in the trees, in the wind, in the water, everywhere. If we slow down to listen, we can hear all the lessons from the past, present, and even future propelling us forward.

How do you see healing, personal, familial, collective, as a form of activism?
Audre Lorde once wrote, “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” Those words have never felt more urgent. As we witness the unraveling of systems built on colonization, exploitation, and disconnection, healing has become a radical act, one that dares to imagine a world beyond survival. To heal is to resist. To care is to disrupt. And I believe it’s through this kind of radical, collective care that we begin to build something entirely new. Across the country and around the globe, people are rising, not just in protest, but in protection of one another. Mutual aid is no longer an abstract concept, but a living breathing way of life where people are showing up in ways that systems never could. We are birthing a new society, one rooted in love, interdependence, and reverance for one another and of the earth. And this fact, is what gives me hope that we will overcome all of the challenges that we are currently facing.

In a world that is seeing increases in male loneliness, what advice would you give someone struggling with this?
The biggest advice that I would give is that you are not alone. I am blessed to co-facilitate a men’s circle with men who lost their homes in the Eaton fire in Altadena/Pasadena. These are fire survivors, fathers, sons, grandsons, men of every race and paycheck, who gather twice a month because they now know the power of healing in community. And what I have bore witness to is the fact that our society wants men to think that we are the only ones going through a particular experience, when in fact so many of us have gone through something quite similar. This is the power of healing circles, and of storytelling. When we are brave enough to share our truths, others can see themselves in our own experiences, and ultimately feel not only seen, but less alone. Through these brave spaces, men begin to see how vulnerability isn’t weakness, but a doorway to connection.

How has soul music and singer-songwriters shaped your voice, not just as a musician, but as a movement builder?
For me, all music traces back to the continent of Africa. The blues and soul music in particular are born out of not just pain, but of ancestral resistance and survival. History has shaped how I see myself and the world, and the most powerful lessons I’ve learned weren’t from textbooks—they were taught to me through song. Some of the most profound art doesn’t even need words, but is the feeling behind the heartbreak of a guitar chord, or even the cry of a horn. That kind of sound doesn’t just reach your ears, it stirs something deep inside of you. That’s the power of music, of song, it’s genetic memory, and a way to tap into something ancestral inside us.

In your view, what makes a song powerful enough to move people? Not just emotionally, but into action?
That’s the secret ingredient of a great song. From freedom anthems to protest chants, music has always been the heartbeat of social movements, pushing people forward when the night feels longest. Maya Angelou once said, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” That’s the essence of a great song that can move people to action. I think about all of the social movements and how music has always played such an important role in motivating people to keep moving forward, even in the face of grave odds. But it’s always been the people behind the music that have really allowed us to connect with the feeling emoted through the songs. In art, we express ourselves, and we see ourselves. In art, we paint the pictures of the world that we want to live in. In art, we are able to be free and inspire others to do the same.

Your lyrics carry so much emotional weight and tenderness. How do you approach songwriting as a form of healing—for yourself and for others?
Writing Sacred Lessons reminded me, yet again, of the radical power of vulnerability, of what happens when we dare to tell the truth out loud. Art gives me the freedom to hold complexity, to express emotions that don’t always fit neatly into categories. Joy and grief, love and rage, they can all coexist and live in the same song. The mere act of songwriting, of making art, in of itself is healing because one is tapping into their ability to create and be closer to spirit, source, god.

What was the first song you ever wrote that made you realize music could be a vehicle for justice?
I don’t know if there was one song, but I will say that the first time I wrote a song was a transformative experience for me because I was able to create something out of nothing. Literally the definition of magic. Of alchamy. And once I did that I knew that I, that all of us, were connected to something bigger than ourselves. In that instant, I realized what so many of us forget: that we are all creators. That the act of creating isn’t just artistic. It’s spiritual. It’s proof that we’re not separate from the cosmos, that we are in fact the cosmos. That we are connected on a deeply spiritual level.

“Living Rooms Across America” feels like such a beautifully intimate concept. What stories or moments from that tour stayed with you the most?
The Living Rooms Across America Tour was a turning point in my career. It reminded me that beneath the surface of our differences, we are connected in deeply human, profoundly spiritual ways. Through music and storytelling, I set out to create intimate spaces where strangers could drop their guards, listen with their hearts, and see themselves in someone else’s experience, no matter how different their backgrounds might seem. Night after night, I watched walls come down and genuine relationships form. Living Rooms Across America was one of the highlights of my life because it showed me the power of art to build community, shift culture, and heal the space between us all.

You are also the founder of Revolve Impact. Can you tell us a bit about your movement driven creative agency? Why was it important for you to mix these two?
I have been blessed to have co-founded Revolve Impact eleven years ago and it has been a vehicle to move people to take action. We have become experts in telling compelling stories that move people’s hearts and minds. It was important for me to build Revolve Impact because I didn’t see many creative agencies founded by, or staffed by, people directly impacted by the issues that they were working on. As such, I’m extremely proud of the success that Revolve Impact has had, including reaching billions of people and bringing hundreds of thousands of people together to heal and to change the world.

How did your background in politics and the arts lead you to found Revolve Impact?
My background in politics informed a lot of how Revolve Impact works, especially when it comes to campaign development and outcomes. From the very beginning, we didn’t want to be just another agency shifting hearts and minds, we wanted to transform systems. We intentionally built Revolve Impact to sit at the intersection of culture and policy, where storytelling meets strategy and our campaigns propel people to action. Our work is about driving real outcomes: to influence policy, dismantle harmful structures, and mobilize communities at the grassroots level. This is the essence and the purpose of Revolve Impact.

How do you ensure campaigns stay rooted in community voices and lived experience?
Everything that Revolve Impact does is informed by and rooted in the community. We partner with the leading grassroots organizations across the country to ensure that everything that we do is grounded in the lived experience of those directly impacted by the issues that we work on.

Revolve Impact has had a lot of impact and wins, from the Mass Bail Out to freeing Brittney Griner, what drives your team’s success, and what does impact mean to you today?
Our success is rooted in something deeper than strategy, it’s built on trust. It’s our authentic relationships with the communities we serve and our lived proximity to the issues we organize for that set us apart. We’re part of a histroical legacy of people and organizations who came before us. Organizers, artists, healers, and movement builders who saw their work as an extension of their life purpose.

After reaching 2 billion people globally, what story or project has stayed with you the most personally?
Of all the projects that have left a lasting imprint on my heart, working alongside Guerline Jozef of the Haitian Bridge Alliance stands out. Calling her a friend—and truly, family—is one of the greatest honors of my life. Guerline’s work with Black migrants in México and around the world transcends advocacy; it’s sacred. Her compassion is unwavering, her courage unmatched. She is, without exaggeration, the closest I’ve ever come to meeting a modern-day Mother Teresa. In a world that so often turns its back on the most vulnerable, Guerline runs toward them, offering dignity, safety, and love. Her work isn’t just important. It’s essential. It’s prophetic. And it’s reshaping the world one act of grace at a time.

You’ve worked with everyone from policy leaders to artists. How can we better build bridges between the cultural and political sectors for social change?
Change begins with raising social consciousness. The first step in building bridges is finding our people, our tribe, our community, our co-dreamers. When we unite around purpose, something powerful happens: momentum builds, barriers fall, and movements are born. I’ve witnessed it over and over again. Campaigns and social movements where strangers become friends, and friends become family. Especially in these uncertain times, I believe more than ever in our collective capacity to come together, to heal what divides us, and to imagine a future rooted in connection, courage, and love.

Storytelling clearly plays a big role in your activism. What do you believe is the power of a well-told story in today’s polarized world?
We make meaning of the world through story. It’s actually our oldest technology. Telling stories is how we make sense of the world, and how we transmute history. That’s why it’s so powerful because it’s something innate within all of us, and something that we have used for tens of thousands of years to communicate our thoughts, feelings, and emotions.

You co-managed #FREEAMERICA with John Legend. What was one of the most surprising lessons from that campaign?
I was incredibly fortunate to work alongside John and the team at Propper Daley in co-managing #FREEAMERICA. That experience showed me firsthand the transformative power of an artist who doesn’t just have a platform, but uses it to affect systemic change. John isn’t just lending his name to the movement, he’s deeply committed, continually learning, and fully engaged in the work. He’s a true student of social justice, using his voice and artistry to challenge systems and to shine a light on the urgent need to end mass incarceration. Through #FREEAMERICA, he’s carried the legacy of icons such as Harry Belafonte, Nina Simone, Paul Robeson, and so many others who have used their influence to push society to be more inclusive, just, and compassionate.

We also love your subdivision Athletes for Impact. Can you tell us a bit about this project?
Sports, like music, is one of the most unifying forces on the planet. In today’s divided world, I believe that sports holds even greater power to heal. It transcends language, borders, and politics, creating moments where strangers become teammates and rivals find respect. Being part of this project has been one of the most meaningful chapters of my life, not just because of the work, but because of the deep, lifelong friendships it’s fostered. Sports remind us of something essential: that beyond our differences, we all crave connection, purpose, and belonging.

As someone who’s been doing this work for over 20 years, what do you hope your legacy will be—not just in policy or music, but in the hearts of people you’ve impacted?
I hope that people remember me as someone who led with heart, who cared deeply for others. That love—for people, for justice, for possibility—was the motivation behind everything I did. More than accolades or accomplishments, I want my legacy to be one of a present father and husband, of a person who was commited to changing the world.

With your music, you draw inspiration from artists like John Lennon and Bob Marley—voices who used their art as a call to conscience. What do you think is the role of the artist in times of social upheaval?
Paul Robeson famously stated, “Artists are the gatekeepers of truth. We are civilization's radical voice.” Nina Simone also said that “An artist's duty, as far as I'm concerned, is to reflect the times.” These are two artists, in addition to John Lennon and Bob Marley, who have guided me and informed how I see my role in this particular moment in history. Now, more than ever, artists are needed to inspire hope, action, and a belief that we can indeed transform the current conditions and build a society rooted in justice, inclusision, and love.

It’s been a rough few years, and we expect at least four more. How have you been staying positive? What is your motto in life?
Being rooted in family, both blood and chosen, and staying connected to my cultural traditions have been my lifeline. In a world that often feels heavy with uncertainty, my family and cultural practices keep me grounded, centered, and hopeful. My rituals, my people, and the wisdom passed down through generations remind me of who I am, where I come from, and what I’m here to do. In these trying times, they’re not just survival tactics, they’re everything to me.

To learn more about Mike De La Rocha, please check out the links below:

Instagram: @mrmikedelarocha
www.sacredlessons.com
www.revolveimpact.com
www.onnoticemusic.com
www.tepitocoffee.com

Mike De La Rocha: Man of Many Roles Working Towards Change