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Title: Our Culture, Our Resistance
Author: Ernesto Aguilar
Date: October 2003
Language: en
Topics: black anarchism, Anarchist People of Color, race, class, gender

Ernesto Aguilar

Our Culture, Our Resistance

Volume One

Over the last decade, Third World peoples’ movements against

globalization, neoliberalism and related issues have captured the

imagination of the world. From the militancy of street protests to the

fight for autonomy advocated by the Ejércitio Zapatista de Liberación

Nacional (EZLN, also known as the Zapatistas), radical politics led by

people of color is quickly evolving. We are hearing less of old top-down

strategies and more about popular education and grassroots organizing.

A small but growing movement of people of color is developing a new

conversation that advocate anti-authoritarianism and anarchism as

solutions to our collective struggle. Such a movement is largely led by

youth, and such advocacy is a departure from the old-guard politics

espoused by revolutionaries of color. Many of these people of color met

in October 2003 in Detroit for the first Anarchist People of Color

conference. Others continue to organize, agitate and act to find

bottom-up answers to the freedom movement’s most perplexing questions.

Our Culture, Our Resistance: People of Color Speak Out on Anarchism,

Race, Class and Gender is the first compilation of writings by people of

color covering the concepts of anarchism, race, class and gender. The

purpose of this book is to contribute to the ongoing dialogue among

people of color and others as we strive toward freedom.

ISBN 0-9759518-0-7

Ernesto Aguilar, editor

www.illegalvoices.org

Dedication

This book is dedicated to people of color around the world and our just

fights for consciousness, justice, land, freedom and liberty.

Acknowledgements

Thanks to the authors; to Heather Ajani for tremendous support; and to

AK Press for its work, but also for rejecting this book and inspiring

independent people of color publishing.

Introduction by Ashanti Alston

The white fathers told us, “I think, therefore, I am” and the black

mother within each of us — the poet — whispers in our dreams, I feel,

therefore I can be free. Poetry coins the language to express and chart

this revolutionary demand.

— Audre Lorde

Here we are, and the APOC phenomena continues. From the Detroit

Conference to the build-up for the Republican convention and onward,

folks of color with anarchist and anti-authoritarian politics are making

a presence. And it couldn’t happen at a better time!

If I may pull my age card for a moment: I am a very proud product of the

1960s’ Revolution. It was that time when all things seemed possible,

like Revolution in the very belly of this beast. It was in the air and

folks from all walks of life were joining up. Some movements in

particular were grounding the charge. The “American Indian Movement,”

the Chicano Liberation Movement and the Black Liberation Movement. And

why do I say “grounding?” Because without the recognition of these

movements having to deal with the very structure of the Empire of the

U.S., the anti-war movement would only fight for reform and reform would

mean the wholesale selling out of those of us at the very bottom for the

interest of well-meaning white folks. It would be just another version

of selling out folks of color as throughout the history of our struggles

from the moment of European invasion. For the same reason, folks of

color decide that it is necessary to close ranks, so to speak and figure

out how to ensure our different freedoms.

Living in the ‘60s and ‘70s meant living at a time when modern

technology, especially the revolution in communications and

transportation, meant that the “world” got smaller. A teenage boy in New

Jersey could turn on the TV set and watch his folks in that Black Nation

called Down South get water- hosed and beaten by rednecks because they

dared protest for the right to be free from racism and terror. It also

meant that we got to see televised accounts of the U.S. invasion of the

Vietnamese people and sometimes even an African revolutionary diplomat

speaking eloquently on a newly independent nation or liberation struggle

on the verge of victory. Come to find out that your very own

revolutionaries here, like Robert Williams, Malcolm X, Stokeley

Carmichael, the Panthers and even folks like Maya Angelou had been

traveling overseas to visit and learn from these other kindred

struggles. Cuba, Vietnam, China, Algeria, Tanzania, Kenya, Nigeria.

Folks were reporting back new information before they could even get

back. And folks here were just moved. It was the true beginnings of the

anti-globalization movement. But folks of color revolutionaries here

weren’t hoping from one revolutionary uprising to another like it was

fun, and no doubt it was exciting. But folks belonged, for the most

part, to organizations on the ground level who needed, wanted to know

what thinking and organizing styles seemed to be working for others

around the world so that we might incorporate them, like in jazz

improvisation, into our movements and move forward. Communications and

transportation technologies were being used by the slaves to hook up

with other revolutionary slaves around the world in the hope that we

would all be on the same page in bringing down The Beast. The Babylonian

Monster.

Interesting about this ‘60s period that is so instructional for those of

us today who are bringing anarchist and anti-authoritarian revolution to

our communities, is that ‘60s revolution began as a rejection of old

revolutionary thinking and styles of organizing. When we research that

early period we find that young folks, regardless of racial background,

were tired of the various communist and Marxist parties, and the liberal

organizations. They were not lonely, led by old folks but displayed such

a rigid, Catholic adherence to dead white male revolutionary thinking

that it felt like parents.

It felt like parental rule that upheld hypocrisy and materialism and

individualism and willful blindness to racism, war and class privilege.

So, on their own, young folks were searching for more egalitarian,

communal and spontaneous ways of just being in the world and of making

revolution in the US in concert with other struggles around the world.

France, May 1968. Mexico, 1968. The Congo, 1964


In this early period, the anti-authoritarian spirit was dominant. It was

organizationally expressed in early Students for a Democratic Society

(SDS) and Student Nonviolence Coordinating Committee (SNCC). It was

expressed in terms of vision in terms of creating a “Beloved Community.”

Revolutionaries like Elder Ella Jo Baker was able to impart to young

folks in the South to look to themselves for leadership and to help

Southern communities raise up their own indigenous leadership instead of

relying on the privileged ministries and old liberal guard to guide

them. SNCC, as just one example, took Ella’s advise to heart and was

able to help build a dynamic revolutionary movement for voter

registration and community liberation like the racist, fortress South

had never saw. And when we look further into this period, we can see

that as long as folks kept to egalitarian, participatory democratic and

grand visionary politics, the movements kept a vibrancy and growth. But

as we go further, we also see that at the same time the more rigid

liberal and revolutionary influences had not given up their religious

fight to lead the movements. Black, Native American, Chicano, Asian,

Puerto Rican and white “worker.”

As the battle for ideological leadership, organizing style and

revolutionary “agency” grew, folks were hitting normal growth

roadblocks. They had to do with membership growth, the constantly

changing picture of the system we were up against and its fascism

against us, questions of allies, weapons of fight-back, etc. Folks

needed answers. The pressure was on. Revolution now. Seems like quick

fast solutions were needed and folks were leaning more to the more

“scientific” approaches coming from the Marxists, communists and Third

World revolutionaries. And the Third World revolutionaries were taking

on more Marxist and communist ideas. Eurocentric ideas. Scientific

ideas. Modern ideas of making a revolution in their respective nations.

And being that the liberation movements were succeeding so quickly in

kicking out their imperial masters, then it seems to make sense that we

take on that kind of thinking and style. We did.

As our movements here became more Marxist, we will see that they also

became less inclusive, less spontaneous, less democratically

participatory. One did not continue to pursue the Beloved Community; one

now increasingly talked about “scientific socialism.’ One did not try to

discover new ways to deepen the has meant for us participatory democracy

which “took too long” or contained too many different ideologies; one

went for the more serious “vanguard” small, tight-knit organization of

the more brilliant speakers, theoreticians and organizers who knew what

to do, because they had read more, traveled more and spoke more. The

Women Uprising within SNCC and SDS and other organizations would be

stifled because, I don’t care how you look at it, this new revolution

would boil down to men shit. And though it may have been a blessing in

disguise, because a women’s revolutionary movement would seriously take

off at this point, the overall movements would fragment in a not-good

way while the Monster would recover and its Counter Intelligence Program

(COINTELPRO) shored up its fascist work. In this sense, though a lot of

great resistance was waged under the growing

Marxist-Leninist-Trotskyist- Maoist direction of grassroots movement,

overall, it killed our spirit, our spontaneity and our faith in our own

indigenous knowledge production.

Within the Empire, be we folks of color, workers, students, we have

histories and herstories of resistance nurtured by visions of freedom.

We have ways of knowing and figuring things out that have allowed us to

draw from Iroquois to Franz Fanon and Herbert Marcuse.

Why I originally said that all this was instructional for us today is

because it was that anarchist and anti-authoritarian spirit of the early

‘60s that gave that period its revolutionary dynamism, its, originality.

Folks were so inspired by international movements but mores by our own

folks of color movements here in the belly. But we lost it. All of us.

And in many ways, their ain’t been a comparative movement of movement

since. By the early ‘70s, for all intents and purposes, we were not able

to sustain our growth to effective challenge the Empire and COINTELPRO,

and the mass media wrote the rest of the story.

But then out of nowhere, seemingly, comes Seattle and the WTO battles

and we begin to hear faint sounds of revolution again and some of them

voices are ours. Ours. Folks of the Tribes, indigenous to Turtle Island,

here by way of the slave ships, here by southwestern wars of U.S.

annexation, World War Two koncentration kamps descent and then our more

recent immigrant communities of color who take their turn at becoming

the latest fall-guys diverting attention from the real empire designs of

world domination.

Our anarchism has meant for us a return to something old yet so new, Not

only in terms of our people’s ancient stories of stateless times but

just being here now knowing that even within the resistance stories

there has always been the spirit of freedom, direct action direct

participatory democracy and communalism. We, like the Zapatistas, are

both ancient and new, embracing cutting edge thinking on our own terms,

i.e. not slavishly. We will use both the drum and the Internet, the

sacred prayer and the gun; and we will be as grandly and wildly

visionary in drawing new worlds as we wanna be.

Folks wanna know what anarchism is? It’s freedom, it’s creativity, it’s

culture. It’s people and people’s diversity. It’s people finding

themselves right now from all walks of life here in the belly of the

beast and not giving a damn about how we got here via the Empire but

deciding that it is gonna be here where we plot the Empire’s demise.

Fuck ya bourgie-ass white rights, borders, patriotism, their weapons of

mass distraction and destruction. On to the return of an old family

grandchild to home: Revolution anarchist-style, communal, earth-loving,

dancing, throwing bricks, squatting abandoned building, creating

quilombos. In the hands of your soulful playmate, we APOC are here. Let

the games begin!

Ashanti

Anarchist Panther

PS — Thank you for letting an ole man hang with y’all. Because of you, I

still believe that with the torch in your hands, we can kick ass and

help make this world of worlds 
 free.

Behold, I am Funkadelic. I am not of your world. But fear me not. I will

do you no harm. Loan me your funky mind and I shall play with it. For

nothing is good unless you play with it.

And all that is good, is nasty!

““What is Soul,” Funkadelic, 1969

GOOD MORNING, REVOLUTION, you nasty cat you!

Sorta Langston Hughes, uh-hun.

Experiencing Anarchism by Sara Ramirez Galindo

It is difficult to write about a topic like anarchism, which is already

controversial enough, to people who are familiar with its theory and

practice without being intensely judged and questioned about what is

written. Not that questioning is wrong. It is necessary, but in my

opinion, it is unproductive if it lacks respect for someone’s ideas,

thorough thinking, reflection, and constructive feedback. That is why I

ask that you, the reader, to please just read, think and reflect about

what I am expressing here. It might not be a perfectly written

composition but it is not meant to be one, it is simply my experience

with anarchism.

I first learned of “Anarchism,” the kind known to most activists in the

United States, through literature given to me by a friend who had

traveled to Washington State for the anti-World Trade Organization

actions in Seattle of 1999. My curiosity about the subject led me to

research more about it. I never read entire books by Proudhon, Bakunin

or Emma Goldman for lack of time, so I read articles, zines and excerpts

of books instead. Through this literature I learned of an anarchist

conference.

This first anarchist conference I attended left me perplexed, for I had

read about anarchism as the theory and practice towards the abolition of

authority, hierarchies, practicing collectivity and active organizing.

The feeling I got from that conference was uninviting, dry, alienating,

extremely sub-cultural and life-stylish. I could not understand many of

the things people were talking about in discussion circles. I could not

understand why several of them had re-named themselves after plants and

animals. I did not understand why they wore no deodorant; and it seemed

weird to me that nobody bothered asking others how they were doing, if

they needed anything, or even took the time to offer a greeting or a

smile. I did not enjoy the conference but still remained interested in

anarchism telling myself, “I’m sure this isn’t all there’s to it.”

Once I got in contact with a self-defined anarchist group in my region

that was holding weekly meetings, I decided to check them out. The way I

was received by the people in the group was not any different from what

I’d experienced at my first anarchist conference, except that after the

conclusion of the meeting a couple of women in the group approached me

to ask my name and how I was doing and invited me to their next meeting.

I did not stay in that group long. I never spoke up because I was afraid

of saying something wrong, something outside the “anarchist” terms they

understood, and I did not want to be the center of attention if anything

I asked became controversial, for I felt none of that “solidarity” and

less of that “collectivity” that anarchism is supposed to generate.

Though some people were very nice, others were very arrogant,

unapproachable and plain intimidating, so I moved on.

While visiting “anarchist” groups every now and then, I was

simultaneously involved in anti-sweatshop student activism, not because

it was the “thing to do,” but because my mother, uncles, aunts and

myself had worked in clandestine garment sweatshops before. From this

student activist work, I met a woman who introduced me to her

collective, the Zapatista Committee of Los Angeles.

That day was the beginning of a life-changing experience.

Nobody in any activist or typical anarchist organization had greeted me

with honest handshakes and looked at me in the eye with interest of

knowing who I was or what I had to say like the people in this

collective did. I was once again confused because this group was not

self-defined as anarchist, but they based their practices on

non-hierarchical, anti-authoritarian politics, they did practice

collectivity, held weekly reading circles, and most importantly they

were organizing events, not just shows — these were based on

accomplishing truly radical and practical goals. And I for the first

time felt these actions were building a true sense of community.

As I became to know each and every one of the people in the collective,

I was not surprised to know many of them were in fact self-defined

anarchists who had simply felt the need to work with a group of people

who could produce and provide what mainstream anarchist circles had not.

Upon experiencing anarchism through those events, groups and people, I

constructed this view about today’s many types of anarchists: the

self-defined image anarchists, the read-only anarchists, the underground

and non-self-defined working anarchists, the anarchists who are a

combination of all these, and others.

At this point I had understood that the anarchists I had initially met

did not necessarily comprise what the theory and practice of anarchism

was, as I understood it. It was like understanding that in the world

there are nation- states and then there are the people living in them,

two different entities. It was also at this point that I openly

acknowledged that I was not wrong for being one of the few women and

people of color walking into a predominantly-white anarchist book fair,

but that is was in fact this homogenized “movement” of anarchists that

had unfortunately allowed things to be structured this way.

This homogenization has unfortunately built boundaries that mark what

kind of issues are of priority, what kind of actions are

“revolutionary,” the kind of workshops to be given at a conference and

so on. It was difficult for me to feel connected to these anarchists;

our realities and priorities had nothing in common. Anarchist literature

circulating in the majority of anarchist groups today speaks mainly of

European (and European descendants’) anarchists’ history and present.

I’m sure that is not on purpose, yet the beginning of this trend led to

the simplification of ideas, such as that of Europe being the

“birthplace” of anarchism and this information was used to simplify

another idea, that supposedly anarchism later “reached” Latin America in

the mid-1800s. I saw how this was not questioned often or ever by

mainstream anarchism. Was it never considered that other people, whose

histories just never made it to books, could have been practicing

anarchism?

Understanding the importance of rescuing other anarchist histories has

led to the emergence of materials about Cuban anarchism, African

anarchism, Argentine anarchism, etc. At the same time a growing number

of anarchists — including myself, a non-white person — have started

identifying as anarchists of color in order to rescue and expose (to

everyone, not just to main- stream anarchists) our struggles and those

fought by historic individuals like Luisa Capetillo from Puerto Rico,

Lucy Parsons from the United States, Julia Arévalo from Chile, Maria

Angelina Soares from Brazil and others.

Being part of this is my attempt to break up this standardization of

anarchism’s current Eurocentric tendencies that, in my opinion, could be

causing some of the stagnation of its theory and practice; and to use it

as a supplement to the gradual dismantling of racism and similar

hierarchies of power that unfortunately exist in mainstream anarchism.

I keep mentioning, “mainstream anarchism” because in the United States,

the only anarchism recognized is that which is externally visible, while

it is in fact being “actively and seriously” taken into practice in

other parts of the world through struggles that are simply not getting

the amount of solidarity an all-white-boy black-block “action” gets. I

am certain that the anarchist activity taking place right this minute in

Magonista communities in the Mazateca Highlands in Oaxaca (Mexico), and

in the Bolivian region are not the type of anarchist “scene,” we are

accustomed to see, for these movements include bloody confrontations,

tears, death, mutual trust and hope, and most importantly constant

struggle as a priority to survival. The realities for U.S. anarchism are

others, and so the responses are going to be different, that is

understood. Yet, this mainstream anarchist movement in the U.S. lacks

understanding and consideration for the realities lived by

non-privileged anarchists in the same region. Mainstream anarchism in

this aspect lacks the solidarity, the convivial feeling needed to work

with each other, to learn and unlearn from each other, and most

importantly to build trust to back each other up.

I was fortunate enough to participate in an amazing event where these

elements of respect, solidarity, inspiration and revitalization were

experienced.

The Anarchist People of Color Conference in Detroit boosted up my hope

for anarchism. This was an event that became controversial (to

mainstream anarchists) from the very beginning, as many considered it

exclusionary, “racist” and every other negative thing possible. I did

not pay much attention to this drama, as I knew we were not gathering to

plot a battle against white anarchists, we were simply in need to meet

and share ideas with each other. It felt humiliating to have to explain

to some white and non-white anarchists why we wanted to meet. We wanted

to meet for the same reason anarchist women gather separate from

anarchist men: to empower themselves; we gathered, with similar reasons

to those anarchists break away from authoritarian nation-state

governments: to change things that were going wrong, to change things in

the system. To me this conference meant meeting people who had

experienced the discrimination I had lived within mainstream anarchist

circles. It also meant meeting individuals who were highly interested in

developing and carrying out projects, not just for those in the “scene”

or in their cliques, but mainly with those in their communities

(community meaning neighbors, co- workers, families, etc.), projects

that could truly exemplify the ideals of anarchism rather than simply

spending time theorizing about them.

This conference did not produce a separate anarchist group, as that was

not our purpose. We created a different understanding of its practice

and theory.

To us, anarchism meant something diverse, since we all came from

different communities and with different psychological, emotional and

spiritual experiences. We stressed on the importance of having serious

commitment on building relationships with our community rather than

encircling ourselves in a subculture that unconsciously excludes others

around us. We also planted that this anarchism we were talking was non-

vanguardist, non-elitist, non-arrogant, respectful, humble, honest,

loving, gentle and accountable to others. As revolutionary anarchist

people of color, we understood our communities need non-traditional

anarchist projects that could be constantly assessed to see if they are

indeed creating solidarity, mutual-aid, self-determination,

self-sufficiency and autonomy.

Experiencing anarchism to me has not been what books say it is. It has

meant how my actions can in fact produce it effectively.

Hearts Spark Arson by Heather Ajani

Over the past few years, my involvement in movements against police

brutality, globalization and other political movements led me on a path

to understanding how race works and how it affects me as a woman of

color.

Over the years, I have studied race theory, women’s liberation

movements, the criminal justice system, classical and contemporary

political theory, as well as drawing from my own experiences. It is

because of these academic exercises and personal growth processes that I

write this article. I learned a lot about myself over the past three

decades, figuring out why I am angry, why the way I feel has a bigger

context than just my being and that as a brown woman in America I am

forced to feel a duality wherever I turn.

There is a lot of debate about the political versus the personal. The

debate started hitting mainstream activism during the second wave

women’s movement. The argument boiled down to whether the personal

experiences we had belonged in political debate, more easily analogized

as taking a more professional approach in our activism, checking

personal problems at the door. To me this argument plays into the

colonization of thought we struggle against each and every day. We use

it and other terms to stifle each other and ourselves, including when we

need to be accountable for our actions.

There have been times in history when the most beautiful revolutions,

revolts and uprisings have been sparked because of the personal. Such

examples include the abolitionist movement, civil rights movement and

even mother’s movements such as the Argentinean group, “Las Madres de

Plaza de Mayo.” Some of the most successful movements are borne of

passion in one respect or another and that personal drive, commitment,

self-discipline and self-determination, or whatever is at the base of a

revolutionary’s heart is balanced with the political context of their

environs.

These movements are sparked by fires that burn the very foundations of

the people involved, threatening their identities, who they are, leaving

them with their backs against the wall.

As a person of color, activist, organizer, agitator, anti-authoritarian

with strong anarchist leanings, I have often been accused of being too

emotional, too critical, or too truthful. I can’t say that I’ve always

displayed the best behavior when confronted with these paternalistic

statements often bestowed on women in radical circles, but I have tried

to hone those accusations into something I can reclaim in a more

principled way. The pain I feel when I hear these accusations and when I

think of the way that these statements become internally oppressive it

makes me wonder if what we give each other leaves us empty handed.

In my journey to developing a political and personal praxis, I have come

to an understanding that my oppression comes from a system that depends

on the privileges of a few and the oppression of those who are denied

those privileges. This oppression eats people of color alive, depends on

false dichotomies, hierarchies, systematic genocide through the

continual colonization of non-whites, the perpetuation of capitalism and

unholy alliances between workers and bosses. I have also wondered if it

is possible to have the passion necessary to combat these social and

political ills without emotion, self-criticism and truth.

In All About Love, bell hooks stresses the need for openness (i.e.

honesty,) nurturing, self-discipline, justice and love as a means for

social and political change. In a recent project, I had the opportunity

to speak with several elders who had taken part in movements such as the

Black Panther Party, Student Non-violent Coordinating Committee, and

others.

Most stressed the need for spiritual and political balance, stating that

often times the connections between mind, body and spirit are ignored in

lieu of personal gain. In another, more locally based project in

Houston, this reality took another turn as I asked people why commitment

to political organizations/movements waned. Often times the answer was

simply that there is a lack of passion for what we do. The balance

between the personal and political is necessary to successfully create

revolutionary potential. How do we seek to build a better world when we

can’t deal with ourselves or each other? How do we set examples for our

dreams, our goals, or our visions without the internal healing that

needs to take place?

We need passion to make change. We also need political direction and

unity. In order to do this we must find the balance between the personal

and the political worlds we live in. Sometimes we need to take our

personal experiences to build a political analysis while understanding

that political change can’t successfully occur until we are left without

those personal choices. I often quote one of my favorite people in the

anarchist people of color movement, Ashanti Alston in saying, “change

doesn’t come until you are made to feel uncomfortable.”

Building the Political and its Relation to the Personal

Drawing upon what I know, I will use the struggle of women as an

example.

Due to racial oppression, struggles of women of color have not focused

on women as women, but against various oppressive systems. Often in our

struggle, women of color experience issues of tokenism, stereotypical

oppression, as well as blatant exposure to sexist behavior. We are not

only subject to our identities as women, but also as women of color.

Theorists often refer to this identity as “the other.” Another term I

prefer is the “third world women” (AnzaldĂșa, 64). This term encompasses

the need for decolonization of the oppressed in our communities, the

need for self- empowerment and -determination and knowledge of the

history of people of color in this country. We are part of a system that

seeks to destroy us, we are the “developing” and “war torn” peoples

within Amerika, we continue to be colonized through lack of education,

healthcare, employment, decent housing, child care and decent food. We

have been taken from our lands and our lands have been taken from us and

we continue to experience this displacement through modern day Jim Crow

systems such as the police and prisons. No matter what, the culprit is

the same. It is our common enemy and the only way that we can fight it

is by addressing our issues, finding solutions and developing political

unity in order to build and strengthen social movements.

Before we can go on to developing a theory for freedom, we need to

recognize and understand power. Power is often defined as the capacity

to exercise control over another. Power is also the ability to perform

or act effectively. At a women’s studies conference in 1981, a group of

women who were part of a consciousness-raising group for women of color

con- cluded that they needed to define a common ground for how power

worked within the United States. This model has four categories and

signifies a hierarchy from which power flows. It begins with the idea

that freedom in the U.S. is most easily achieved by the reality of the

white, capitalist male.

Next in line is the white woman, who achieves her will to power through

her whiteness and though she is objectified by white men, she still

bears the privilege of whiteness and draws on that privilege

objectifying people of color in order to gain a solid sense of self. Men

of color or “third world” men do not benefit from racial hierarchy, but

do utilize their identities as males to confront their oppressions,

which leaves women of color in a place where they are neither white, nor

male (AnzaldĂșa, 64).

Even when trying to understand power as something that is interconnected

through race and gender, it is important to think in terms of political

change, where the weak spots are. Though power has been displayed in

terms of hierarchy above, there is a need for a common goal, not just

against whiteness and patriarchy, but against the weak spot in the

system that divides these struggles. For critics of capitalism, it is

class, but beyond that, what has historically divided struggles against

those in power in the United States? Power differentials in the U.S.

have been dependent on a system of white privilege. This privilege has

separated movements of womenïżœïżœs liberation, labor movements and hinders

self-determination of the poor and oppressed. Whiteness as a system

determines who goes to the best schools, who lives where, employment,

healthcare, and allows for an alliance between the bosses and the white

working class. Whiteness keeps people of color from meeting basic needs

and the power differentials that white privilege creates keeps the

entire working class and sectors of the poor from resisting en masse

because of the benefits it creates for those who identify as “white.”

This benefit for whites is sometimes referred to as the “wages of

whiteness” (Roediger).

We need to recognize this system of domination that we live under if we

are going to struggle against it. It is also important to understand

what we go through on a personal level and how the wages of whiteness

often times affect us. In a discussion session held amongst women of

color at the 2003 Anarchist People of Color Conference in Detroit, a

decision was made to discuss how we were made to feel as women of color

and what we saw as solutions to those problems. We made this decision in

order to start a dialogue amongst ourselves that started with a healing

process, so we could gain strength in fighting our oppressions. When I

look back upon the following list, I feel empowered because I no longer

feel alone in system of oppression and domination that often sparks

self-hatred and identity crisis among many women of color.

We came to many conclusions as to how we are oppressed, internally as

well as externally. One was that women of color are often tokenized.

Women of color (and our brothers) are often looked to by whites for

answers and opinions about their [whites’] race politics, how they are

working within a community, etc. When a cultural or racial question

comes up, many times whites have a tendency to look towards the people

of color in the room to view their reactions. This is not to say that

whites should disregard the opinions of people of color, but that we

shouldn’t be asked for our opinions simply because we are non-white. A

twist to this problem is when whites start to pontificate about our

struggles as people of color.

Sometimes whites will say, “if you all did this
” or “if you did that
”

Why would a white person know my struggle better than me? Why would I

listen to a white person when all the white people in my life have said

something either intentionally or by slip of tongue denoting that I am

less than deserving: things like I am not fit for school, I shouldn’t

have kids, that they wish that I could stay and take care of their kids

and help around the house, reinforcing that I am subordinate in one way

or another?

Often women of color experience tokenization by whites in various ways;

one is that we are exoticized for our unique qualities and physical at-

tributes. There is more than one tale of a black sister walking into a

room where a white woman wants to feel her hair. Other forms of

oppression include unconscious sexist behavior amongst women,

competitiveness, communication problems (not getting heard, getting

talked over), being put into caregiver roles (we are called upon to be

the secretaries, the organizers, the errand runners, the nannies and the

mammies) and there are times when we fear for our personal safety

because women of color are often perpetuated as whores by the corporate

media. After each of us at the discussion brought up an issue, we

finished our sentence with what we wanted in order to address the issue,

so we were problem solving as we went along. Some of the solutions we

came up with were: healing our- selves, finding balance, defining our

boundaries, taking responsibility for ourselves and our actions,

developing respect for ourselves and for others, and building

communication skills. These solutions clearly spelled out the need to

deal with the personal as well as the political in building strength

among the women in that room.

What We Need

We need to build solidarity amongst each other through sharing our

experiences, recognizing our differences and building support for each

other. True solidarity creates awareness amongst oppressed peoples, and

helps them to recognize the need to forge political unity. Because our

identities as third world peoples are multiple, this means defining who

we are and at the same time, redefining what it means to struggle for

liberation by building on our commonalities. The struggle for liberation

should seek to end the subordination and domination of oppressed peoples

and create a shift in power differentials that concentrate on a weak

spot within our current power structure.

This means that we need to deal with who we are personally (both

politically and spiritually) in order to be able look beyond ourselves

and truly see how we as oppressed peoples are affected as a whole. This

does not mean that we stop at struggling against our own angst, or for

equality and individualism—this means that we use our consciousness of

self to begin to collectively envision a society without domination by

white, capitalist males; that we need to challenge what whiteness means

in terms of actual privileges and to bankrupt that system so that it

does not provide wages to those who draw on their identities to oppress

others. We also need to create spaces that help to develop and empower

ourselves and others. We need to understand that without our own fires

we cannot spark the creativity, desire, and strength needed to struggle

effectively against our oppressors.

Sources

Anarchist People of Color Conference. “Women of Color Discussion.”

Detroit, MI. October 3–5, 2003.

AnzaldĂșa, Gloria. Making Face, Making Soul.

hooks, bell. All About Love.

Roediger, David. The Wages of Whiteness: Race and the Making of the

American Working Class.

NOTE: the title of this article is not of my imagination, it is taken

from a friend’s former band, Bully Rag, a.k.a Fucking Thunder’s CD,

which ironically they put out before he was unfairly replaced. Anyway,

to make a long story short, they consequently suffered as a result of

their bad decision. Solidarity with friends, oh yes


Puppets, Pageantry and Protest Politics: White People and the

Anti-War Movement by Tiffany King

Reflecting on my own participation as a person of color in the 2003

protest marches of the anti-war movement, I am now aware my presence is

being manipulated and abused. I have been rendered a puppet for white

liberal pageantry. Any time I have attended a march I find I subject

myself to objectification, marginalization and exploitation. Beyond the

personal offenses I have incurred, I now truly believe the presence of

people of color in anti-war and other so called “global justice” protest

marches led and organized by whites legitimizes tactics that undermine a

true pursuit for justice.

On February 15, 2003 grappling with my own frustration, anger and

feelings of impotency as our country charged towards war; I attended a

protest march. The march was organized by the usual suspects,

A.N.S.W.E.R, Not in Our Name, Unite for Peace and Justice and the other

white led coalitions here in Philly. As the Bush Administration moved

closer and closer to dropping the first bombs on Iraq, I caved in and

decided I had to go regardless of who organized this thing. I thought to

myself, that if there was ever a time to momentarily get over the racism

of the white left and past scars from previous interactions, it was now.

My justification for my attendance was we were facing war, and at least

the illusion of a collective and unified voice would be “more powerful”

than the efforts of isolated communities of color or my own for that

matter. In that moment, I had just given into white supremacist systems

of domination. White supremacy asserts its own agenda by absorbing,

subverting and negating any dissent and resistance to its domination.

The structures of white supremacy demand submission by professing to be

both the norm and alternative.

In the book, Black Anti-Ballistic Missives, activist, author and poet

Ewuare Osayande argues white supremacy is the critical component that

the anti- war movement fails to address, thus rendering it irrelevant.

The racist anti- war movement is devoid of any self-critical process to

acknowledge or address how white supremacy contributes to the oppression

of people of color within the movement, so how could it possibly have an

analysis of how white supremacy oppresses people of color around the

world?

Given the reality the anti-war movement does not address white

supremacy, it is to be expected that people of color would be

objectified and exploited at one of its protest marches. On February 15,

the people of color contingency I attended the march with decided to

create a feeder march that would join the larger march on Broad Street.

I assume this was an attempt to empower the POC who would be

participating that day. We would temporarily march on our own terms,

citing white supremacist imperialism as the true evil. Momentarily, I

had the feeling that we would reclaim the political act of protest as a

relevant and meaningful tool used by self-determining people of color

around the world who have and continue to resist white supremacist

imperialism. Yet I realized once I got to the march that this would not

be possible.

We would chant Black, Latino, Muslim, Asian and... so forth to evoke a

feeling of camaraderie and equal partnership. Yet the unequal

distribution of power and privilege amongst people of color, which

played a part in determining the convening groups ability to organize

this very effort, stared us in the face and was left unaddressed. Still,

we feigned a content and empowered united front and proceeded to Broad

Street to meet up with the rest of the protestors.

As soon as we approached the sea of white folks and they became aware of

our presence we became a sideshow. White people started to clap and

cheer as if we were the long awaited people of color parade float they

could awe and point at. They appreciated our presence and danced to our

drumming as long as we were their entertainment. However, as soon as

members of the contingency started to pick up our bullhorns and speak to

the white supremacist imperialism that murdered people of color they

became offended.

We were suddenly the recipients of annoyed stares, shushes and

interruptions because we were talking over the “slated” speakers.

We kept on speaking, however our attempts to define and adhere to our

own agenda did nothing. We did not create self-determining space that

would allow our particular analysis of the war and white supremacy, as

the global terrorist, to challenge the shallow, racist analysis of the

white activists and organizers. We were not even able to make the white

folks aware of their own racism at the protest itself. We became a pawn,

a mere prop, one of those larger than life puppets (often rendered to

depict oppressed people of color) that white groups make for “protests.”

I don’t know how many times I saw and heard white people look at us and

say
 “It’s sooo good to finally see some color here.” I could see them

patting themselves on the back for the good work they had done to reach

out to people of color and educate us or make us feel welcome to join

them.

Our presence only legitimized the work of whites, which is to stay in

positions of power and control the discourse, action and direction of so

called progressive politics. By participating we allow them to delude

themselves that, 1) their particular analysis of the war and imperialism

is a legitimate one and 2) the power and resources at their disposal to

lead “social change” movements are legitimately earned. Our presence at

the march made the statement that we support the white supremacy of the

left.

Many non-white critics of white leadership within the “global justice

movement” have challenged the analysis of whites who have reframed and

distorted issues of justice. Whites conveniently impose an anachronistic

time period on imperialism, with a NAFTA obsessed political analysis,

that places the start of multinational corporate imperialism in the

early 1990s.

Whites on the left also relegate the issue of accountability and blame

to that of the corruption of a select few corporate executives and their

Washington DC cronies. They conveniently ignore their own culpability in

reinforcing systems of white supremacist capitalist imperialism.

I actually heard white people saying things like, “We’re all French now”

and “Long live the French.” How can a credible and legitimate global

justice movement congratulate a country that actively engages in the

white supremacist, imperialist exploitation of people of color all over

the globe? French multinational corporate monopolies are currently

fueling conflict and repression in the Ivory Coast and West Africa. The

French are white supremacist imperialists just like the U.S. The tyranny

of France’s white supremacist imperialism is a present day political

reality people of color all around the world are suffering under and

resisting. This lack of analysis of French imperialism and global

repression is lost because of the racist analysis of the white

leadership that dominates the current “global justice movement.”

In the past, like many others, I would be inclined to engage in the

ongoing discussions of Where was the Color in/at
, in order to try and

address the lack of participation/leadership by people of color at

anti-globalization marches and other mass mobilizations. So often these

discussions lack a sound analysis of the structures of white supremacy

and its’ impact on why mass mobilizations look the way they look. These

arguments frequently end up placing the burden on people of color to

explain why they are not present at an event or protest. In her

introduction to the essay

Where’s the Revolution? Part II, activist and author, Barbara Smith

critiques the racism of so-called “progressive” movements in general and

the LGBT movement specifically. In speaking about the state of

progressive movements in general, she states, “Thanks to racism and

elitism, progressive people of color are barely allowed to share

movement leadership, let alone control it. Rest assured if we did get to

decide movement agendas, they would be a lot different from what they

are now.” (Smith, 1998)

Some people of color are challenging white leadership in the global

justice movement by acknowledging people of color need to organize on

their own terms without the presence of whites and then bring our own

platform from the margins of the global justice movement to the center.

People of color are absolutely right that we need to organize ourselves

on our own terms without whites. However, when we come back to the table

have we done anymore to challenge the power structure that marginalizes

us? This strategy was attempted on February 15 at the anti-war

demonstration in Philly, but as people of color we still found ourselves

marginalized and exploited.

An even better example of how the racist power structure of the white

left marginalizes and then kills acts of self-determination is the more

recent October 25, 2003 Anti-War March. As early as summer of 2002,

Black Voices for Peace, The Black Radical Congress and other people of

color led organizations were planning a Black led mobilization in

October of 2003 to resist the war in Iraq before the first bombs even

dropped. There was no mention of A.N.S.W.E.R. or any other majority

white groups playing even a supporting role in the effort. This Black

led mobilization which was acknowledged by the White left almost from

its inception interestingly enough would be reduced to a feeder march

and side show for the larger mass mobilization orchestrated by

A.N.S.W.E.R. The Black March for Peace became a mere “feeder” march that

ended up feeding into the white supremacy of the White Left.

I am no longer frustrated or disturbed by the often failed attempts to

mobilize Black people and people of color in the numbers that white

people are mobilized for protest marches. We need to begin to question

the value and relevancy of the protest march for people of color,

particularly as they are currently conceived and organized. The protest

march has become nothing more than a vapid cultural product of the White

Left used solely as a means to attract media attention and funding to

sustain its elitism and racism. I struggle less and less with answering

the question of “Where are the People of Color?”

Ewuare Osayande, who I have cited earlier, has offered an alternative

view on the question of where people of color are in the anti-war and

“global justice” movements. “White people will start to see people of

color when white people start doing the work that people of color have

always been doing. The question people of color ask is: Where are the

white people?”

White privilege so often positions whites outside of the very oppression

that they speak about resisting. Revolutionary movements do not

willingly permit oppressors or collaborators to lead movement struggle.

White leadership in the anti-war movement has resulted in the

development of an analysis and tactics that are far removed from the

daily reality and revolutionary struggles of oppressed people of color.

The racist analysis and the misguided tactics of the White left have

resulted in exploitative “protest art” inspired by a vicarious

objectification of the lives of oppressed people of color and shallow

symbolic media events like the protest march/pageant.

Oppressed people of color, on the other hand, are engaged in daily acts

of resistance that appropriately place white supremacy at the root of

injustice. This work is being done on the margins in communities of

color, without the prodding of the white left or in front of the glare

of media cameras. This work is rarely ever acknowledged or is more often

dismissed by the white left as not being real “social change.” People of

color who have a clear commitment to resisting all white supremacist

systems of domination will not be found organizing protest pageantry and

they will definitely not be featured as the premiere puppets of these

spectacles.

On Competition and Solidarity by Soo Na

There are many discussions happening around the purpose of conferences.

Often, people feel tired and frustrated at such gatherings. While

serving as connection points — where isolated people can find a sense of

safety for a few hours, or even days, long-time comrades can meet and

catch up, and networking occurs — conferences can also be points of

frustration. Critical observations were made at the DC APOC conference,

where people felt that certain issues were not being addressed. In the

spirit of constructive criticism, I wanted to share my experiences. I

hope that in my sharing, it opens up spaces for other critical and

necessary discussions to occur.

More and more, I question the ability of weekend-long, or any length,

confer- ence to really act as a place of sustainable connection. Much of

the connect- ing often occurs in the hallways between workshops, where

people find the time to, as Ashanti talks about in his zine, “unmask”

what has been kept hidden from the majority of people that one might

interact with in a given day.

It is difficult to find places where vulnerability can be risked, and

that difficulty is proportionate to the joy one experiences when a sense

of safety is attained, however briefly. I am not criticizing nor judging

that safety.

The general feeling I received from previous APOC gatherings, whether in

Detroit, or in the regional organized gatherings since (and prior to)

then, was that these spaces felt safest to share experiences, as well as

organizing. In that collective spirit of shared vulnerability, beautiful

spaces are created. I experienced that while in the queer and trans APOC

workshop.

One person stated that they “felt at home.” However, that collectivity

is difficult to create and maintain. It can happen spontaneously, but

it’s not inevitable, nor is it magic. Creating that sense of community

often means unlearning and actively challenging internalized ideas of

charismatic personalities, and learning to be critically aware of

judgment and criticism — one’s own and that directed at other people.

Now, if you bear with me, I will make a contradictory statement. In

light of what I said about charismatic personalities, I will reference

Ella Jo Baker, who cautioned against singling out a single person as

spokesperson, in her speech which came to be remembered as, “More Than

Just a Hamburger.” Her belief is that people must not look for a

(s)(z)(h)ero; rather, people must believe and love and empower

themselves, with collective help, to “lead,” that we are all leaders,

and that this can be taught and passed on. Ella’s work with young

people, and her own life experiences, gave her insight into thinking

about the ways in which people’s internal fires are extinguished when

they are silenced, overpowered, or seen as less exciting than another

person’s.

We have all, in one way or another, been silenced in our lives. Popular

culture, revolutionary culture, cultures, whet us (and I use the “us”

with caution) to the idea of celebrity. It is romantic and deeply

compelling. But, it is important to think about what one is seeking in

such aggrandizing of another person over and beyond one’s own power.

There is a quote by Julius Lester, from his fictional novel, “And All

Our Wounds Forgiven,” where he talks about the dislocating

positionalities of both the “admirer” and “admired”:

I don’t watch much TV anymore. I found myself on constant emotional

overload because in the course of an evening I would have fifty

relationships, intensely liking this one, disliking that one, wondering

what this actor and that actress was like, that politician or that

celebrity without portfolio. It is psychically disorienting having

powerful emotions about people you know only as images. But television

seduces us into trusting image as reality. Daily I watched people

approach him. There was always an instant when they realized that all

the love and emotion they had for him was not reciprocated, that he had

been in their homes and had not known it, that his existence was crucial

to their lives while they were nonexistent in his. They had no

alternative but to make themselves known to him because they had been

forced into a relationship with him.

I want to think about forced relationships, forced ways of relating, and

habitual ways of connecting that may or may not be connected with

liberation, trust, and mutual growth.

I am Korean, and have been living in North America since age six. My

experiences as an Asian yellow womon are complicated as, I am sure, all

people’s experiences are. One thing I notice consistently among other

Asian womyn is a feeling of competition. Often, when I am in a room, I

will notice the eyes of other Asian womyn, and there is a feeling of

endanger- ment. It is as though we are in competition against each

other. I think that competition between womyn has many origins, but I

think there are specific racialized, gendered, and heteronormative

reasons why womyn, including Asian womyn, see each other as competition.

I want to state that, as a personal belief, womyn are not endangered as

a people. In stating that, I am not erasing or ignoring the realities of

sexism, white supremacy, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, intersex

phobia, classism, ableism and the numerous oppressions that people of

color face. These oppressions also seem to be places of solidarity. But

I think it’s important to think about how that solidarity can occur even

though the most challenging conversations do not take place, precisely

because the connection itself, so desperately sought, suddenly overrides

the desire to actively decolonize and liberate one’s self, one’s

desires, one’s body and one’s politics. That, in fact, those challenging

conversations become places where the connection, so desperately forged,

becomes endangered through the idea of it being in crisis and precious,

fragile. That is a dangerous place to be. It is my belief that

connections should not be places where difficult conversations cannot

occur.

Part of why people attend conferences has to do with the idea of

wholeness. It is possible that certain people, through their activism,

seek to find that sense of wholeness, but it is difficult. There are

powerful connections made at conferences, even lifelong friendships,

lovers, partners, creative erotic movements. Audre Lorde defines the

erotic in the following way:

The erotic functions for me in several ways, and the first is the power

which comes from sharing deeply any pursuit with another person. The

sharing of joy, whether physical, emotional, psychic or intellectual,

forms a bridge be- tween the sharers which can be the basis for

understanding much of what is not shared between them, and lessons the

threat of their difference.

Much dispute exists around whether or not there is an APOC “community”

per se. From what I heard, many people feel that APOC, like the concept

of queer, is an ambiguous, fluid concept. It is visionary, an idea(l).

With vision comes spaces, pushing and pulling of limitations, expansion

and stretching of internalized self-robbings and robbings of each other.

Likewise, APOC is heterogeneous, multi-level, and multidimensional. It

is never one thing, and it never remains the same. Can we, as APOC, and

as people and individuals in our communities, experience the erotic with

people without it devolving into heteronormative ways of relating with

each other?

People are different and complicated, come from different places, both

geographically and psychically. There are critiques of the phrase,

“people of color,” which is also, for lack of a better word, inadequate.

But it is a ratchet, a visionary ratchet from where movement can begin.

There is always creation of languages during times of connection and

vulnerability. I am wondering how people of color, and people who

identify as womyn, can employ Audre’s definition of the erotic to think

about the ways in which APOC people (don’t) relate with each other. As a

queer Asian womon, I struggle with heterosexism, both internalized and

in my interactions with people and institutions — whether family,

school, health care, and the like. I think heterosexism occurs in many

of my interactions with Asian womyn, not because they “know” I identify

as queer, but because of the ways in which gender and sex have been

conflated as one and the same. Fear is a product of heterosexism, as is

competition. When I see an Asian person in a room, I do not assume that

we will have things in common. Part of this comes from experience. As an

adopted Korean womon, I have often interacted with Korean North American

folks who regard me with pity or unmasked disgust when they learn I do

not speak Hangul, the official spoken language both in the Republic of

Korea (southern Korea), and the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea

(northern Korea). Many people have experienced similar separations and

experienced the pain of what Gloria AnzaldĂșa refers to as “existing in

borderlands.”

But, when I get the endangered, or what I refer to as the

“heteronormative fear” glance, it is painful. Heterosexism operates in

tandem with misogyny and patriarchy, in that womyn are meant to compete

with each other, in the service of men. It is for their benefit that we

are kept separated from each other, we being womyn, queer folks, femmes

and all people. I want to ask, is the separation worth it? Or, rather,

what do we gain from competing with each other? Where is the fear coming

from? And how is the interesting mental health idea of self-esteem, or

the anarchist idea of self-management (which I heard a lot this weekend)

bolstered by this fear?

At this conference, I went up to a person because I knew that if I did

not approach them, we would never end up talking. This is not coming

from a place of forced interaction, but a place where I sensed

competition and in order to bridge that fear and that separation, I

moved to correct it and started a simple conversation, at the level of

small talk. I do not think this person was necessarily queerphobic. I

simply think that this had to do with heterosexism and the competition

that often occurs between Asian womyn. I want to think about why I feel

it, and what it reinforces.

We are traumatized daily. We struggle with differences. It is not the

call of political and self-revolution to perpetuate that trauma through

fear, indifference and its product, inaction. And it is also not my

intent to reduce my experiences and observations into rhetoric. I want

to think about trust and fear, connection and political engagement. I

also want to think about the beauty in the ordinary, and the challenges

and also the necessity of having difficult conversations. I think

another word for difficult conversations is “ordinary.” Isn’t that true?

That the status quo, though perhaps indifferent, monotonous, is also

challenging, that which so many people rail against, so that it becomes

un desafio, a challenge? June Jordan, in her poem, “On A New Year’s

Eve,” talks about the ordinary:

let the world blot

obliterate remove so-

called

magnificence

so-called

almighty/fathomless and everlasting

treasures/

wealth

(whatever that may be)

it is this time

that matters

it is this history

I care about

the one we make together

awkward

inconsistent

as a lame cat on the loose

or quick as kids freed by the bell

or else as strictly

once

as only life must mean

a once upon a time

I have rejected propaganda teaching me

about the beautiful

the truly rare

(supposedly

the soft push of the ocean at the hushpoint of the shore

supposedly

the soft push of the ocean at the hushpoint of the shore

is beautiful

for instance)

but

the truly rare can stay out there

I have rejected that

abstraction that enormity

unless I see a dog walk on the beach/

a bird seize sandflies

or yourself

approach me

laughing out a sound to spoil

the pretty picture

make an uncontrolled

heartbeating memory

instead

I read the papers preaching on

that oil and oxygen

that redwoods and the evergreens

that trees the waters and the atmosphere

compile a final listing of the world in

short supply

but all alive and all the lives

persist perpetual

in jeopardy

persist

as scarce as everyone of us

as difficult to find

or keep

as irreplaceable

as frail

as everyone of us

And Alice Walker also writes about this in her poem about loving what is

abundant more than what is scarce.

In the spirit of the deep love and affection I have for people of color,

in the spirit of thinking about joy’s proportionality to pain and my

acknowledgment that I have responsibility for the pain that other people

in the world experience, in the spirit of healing, I offer my thoughts.

I do not identify as anarchist. I am still learning about this political

visioning ideology / way of life. As such, I draw from numerous living

philosophies and ideas.

I appreciate this space for engagement.

Sources

Alston, Ashanti Omowali. “Childhood and the Psychological Dimension of

Revolution.” The Anarchist Black Panther Zine. Summer/Fall 2002, Vol. 4

: 59–70.

Lester, Julius. And All Our Wounds Forgiven. New York: Harvest Books,

1996.

Lorde, Audre. “Use of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power (excerpt).” Cries

of the Spirit: A Celebration of Women’s Spirituality. Ed. Marilyn

Sewell. Boston: Beacon Press, 1991.

See her essays in This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women

of Color. Ed. CherrĂ­e Moraga and Gloria AnzaldĂșa. Watertown: Persephone

Press, 1981. Also see AnzaldĂșa’s Borderlands = La Frontera: The New

Mestiza, San Francisco: Spinsters/Aunt Lute, 1987).

Pavi. “On A New Year’s Eve.” Online Posting. 10 Oct. 2002. Minstrels. 20

January 2002. <

http://www.cs.rice.edu/~ssiyer/minstrels/poems/1102.html

.

Walker, Alice. “We Alone.” From the speech, “What Can I Give My

Daughters, Who Are Brave?” Anything We Love Can Be Saved: A Writer’s

Activism. New York: Ballantine Books, 1997. 92.

The End of Idealism: Honest Conversations about Race, Class,

Self-Determination and Anarchist People of Color by Ernesto Aguilar

I first began writing for Our Culture, Our Resistance on anarchist

people of color and the conversations I believe we need to get started.

During that process, very kind individuals offered up much help in ideas

and structure, but at some point, the work became academic. So, stepping

back, I realized that, to be compelling and motivate change, starting

any conversation has to be fluid and open, but also geared at

accomplishing something. I took a step back and returned to the roots of

my piece, of the conversations we need to get started if we are going to

grow and politically advance ourselves as revolutionaries of color. And

here we are.

When people visualized the emergence of a tendency of anti-authoritarian

people of color, no one believed it would grow at the pace and direction

it has. It is sprouting up and fostering awareness in ways few people

envisioned, which has been fantastic. At the same time, we are at a

critical point; where many see our organizing must evolve. We need to

create a space for our unity, culture and identity, but also our

politics.

We need to be clear that advocacy of rights and roles for people of

color, while certainly needed, permits the state and white-led movement

to institutionalize and mediate our struggles. Fighting racism and white

supremacy, when included at all, are problems typically regarded as

line- items for social change. Even among anarchists of color, the

attraction is strong to build own our anarchist movement, made up of

people of color, or to demand greater respect from the white-led

movement. In the process, we’re failing to ask critical questions about

the viability of the white-led movement or our own loyalties.

For people of color who identify as anti-authoritarians, bringing us

into the clearest solidarity with oppressed people around the world

should be our primary focus. We need to give respect to those who’ve

come before us by building on their successes and learning from their

mistakes, while bringing the anarchist people of color tendency to the

next level.

Understanding oppression

Ask someone what they think of when they consider racism, oppression and

white supremacy. You’ll likely get many answers. What does oppression

mean to you as a person of color? I believe that, in order to find

answers, it’s important to know what we’re dealing with when we talk

about such broad concepts.

Francis Cress-Welsing argues that racism is white supremacy. That

distinction alone is significant. Some whites and a few people of color

are confused by the word racism; they’ll sometimes fall into traps of

terms popularized by the far right, or take the word literally, thinking

it to be a prejudice of any race by any race. Historically, however,

racism has always meant white supremacy and collusion with institutional

power.

Race was, in many instances, a line of distinction separating Europeans

from non-whites. Cress-Welsing states racism consists of “patterns of

perception, logic, symbol formation, thought, speech, action and

emotional response, as conducted simultaneously in all areas of people

activity (economics, education, entertainment, labor, law, politics,

religion, sex and war).” Cress-Welsing’s definition grasps the totality

of racism/white supremacy, and how it shapes our own views, as well as

that of white people, virtually from birth. Cress-Welsing’s clarity

makes us think about how we got into the global mess we face. In truth,

Europeans have waged military and cultural war against people of color

for nearly a thousand years. Such exercises were never a means of

dividing rich and poor, but to unite the white masses to fight for the

moral, political, social and/or economic superiority of their way of

life over other races.

Addressing the social and political realities of white supremacy

requires a strategy. In my view, that approach must make

self-determination for oppressed people a basis of unity for looking at

the world, among those professed anti-authoritarian people of color and

all others. Our first stand must be with people of color worldwide

fighting for room to breathe. Our first prerogative must be freedom for

all oppressed people, by any means.

At its core, self-determination is an opportunity to finally be free, to

determine one’s own political, social and economic destinies. For North

American radicals of color, this kind of idea can be a leap; we live in

a society of relative privilege, where corporate corruption,

globalization and other movements compete for our hearts and minds.

Occupation and oppression aren’t harsh and in our faces as, for

instance, in Palestine. As such, we’re conditioned to think about our

struggles related to what we’re against, rather than that for which we

are fighting.

Tactics and unity

Clearly, it’s on us to start thinking about how we make efforts if we

are to be self-determined. One of the beautiful things about anarchism,

many people tell me, is that it is fluid and open; flexible enough to

respond to social and political conditions, but strong enough in its

anti- authoritarianism to stand up against dictatorship of any kind.

However, all of us get frustrated in the roadblocks that come before any

movement. I submit that we need think about our tactics and our unity.

It is crucial that we start looking at our politics with a nod to what

we, as revolutionaries, hope to create of this world. We know what we’re

against, but how are we getting to the world we want to create? And, as

importantly, what actions do we need to make to get there? What is a

fundamental call from which our movements emanate?

Although I have spoken out frequently on the need to locally organize, I

respect that not everyone is an organizer. It can be intimidating for

even experienced people. In reality, I am an advocate of the growth of

our movements on many levels. Whether you are an organizer, somebody

just looking for answers, someone fed up with how the system works, or

an intellectual, what you are about and what we as a movement stand for

needs to be out front, fearless, imperfect and courageous.

Some ideas that touch on tactics and unity, no matter who you are:

short-term goals? What are the process goals (i.e. building cultural

consciousness among members) in reaching the objective?

trying motivate to action?

to people’s sense of justice, and which to their self-interest?

should deliver the message? Who is credible to the audience, and how do

we equip spokespeople with information and comfort levels?

As one example, I wrote a missive on tactical politics, focusing on

lifestyle politics. Also called conscientious consumerism, lifestyle

politics (and other forms of reactive activism), have come to the fore

as leading trends in social action. Boycotts; buying green, fair trade,

et al.; and voluntary simplicity are everywhere. The failure of these

kinds of strategies is in vision. Writer Angus Maguire argues that, at

its worst, lifestyle politics “overemphasize the importance of white and

middle-class buying habits while marginalizing the work of communities

of color around the world to gain power in struggles against the same

injustices our buying habits are supposedly addressing.” And I concur.

But the ensuing responses from whites as well as a few people of color

failed to offer a vision about how such consumerism connects with our

program for advancement. Many people are not ready for a discussion

about a “program for advancement” or much of a program for anything, but

we need to be. Time and conditions require we stop spinning our wheels.

We need to see a strategic vision for our work as part of an explicit

and comprehensive program for reaching political, social and economic

self-determination. Lifestyle politics is perhaps an easy target, but

this instance demonstrates our need to analyze tactics.

Unity is perhaps one of the most curious roads to navigate in this

respect, because once you find out what you’re for, your allies become a

little clearer. It’s vibrant, for sure, and presents opportunities for

us.

I don’t want to open the conversation with the typical us-versus-other-

ideologies rhetoric, but nudge you to consider priorities. Herb Boyd

writes in a revised edition of Detroit: I Do Mind Dying that ideologues

on various sides of the political spectrum had, “political positions so

bitterly opposed in the 1970s that it disrupted the remnants of the

Black liberation movement, thereby ending any possibility of operational

unity.” Anarchists of color get caught up in that too; some of us see

our internal contradictions as people of color as more important than

the external contradictions of white supremacist-engineered society out

to do us all in. We’ve been sold the line that joining the white-led

movement serves “humanity,” when humanity can’t speak for itself in

struggle in which it doesn’t lead. Some of us eschew other people of

color as being anti-white, et al., but fail to see who is served by our

divisions. By no means am I saying to ignore our differences. I don’t

believe paper unity serves anyone. I encourage all my people to consider

who you unite with, why and the interests it serves.

Allies and language

Whether we unite with white anarchists is a tough question. While I

believe broad-based work presents unique opportunities, I am very

passionate in feeling it’s not our job to hold white folks’ hands, make

them feel empowered, good about their politics, not downplayed, etc. The

white-led movement should provide that to them, since it’s theirs and

whites should be demanding more of other white progressives. But the

subject of allies is altogether different.

When the Anarchist People of Color listserv began, some of us came to

the table with the idea that we’d have this open space for ourselves to

create a more visible presence of people of color in the ‘anarchist

movement,’ essentially the white-led movement. Undoubtedly, our at-first

unpopular little crew has now gotten more support from whites who see

this effort as important.

However, while most anarchists of color still participate in white-led

organizing, our collective analysis is slowly evolving to a place where

we are standing on our own, and what such unity means for us in the long

term.

There’s an equal amount of work around the question of anarchism, and

how we can grow it to meet the needs of communities of color. Not a few

people of color observe that the contemporary anarchist scene, if indeed

it’s embodied by testosterone-pumped white boys and Anarchy magazine,

relates to a minuscule fraction of the populace. How do we make the

ideas of anarchy relate to those who are not pissed off Caucasians and

grad students? Such a question doesn’t even get into the troubling

failure in anarchism to adequately address white supremacy, e.g.

Bakunin’s anti- Semitism, Emma Goldman’s advocacy of eugenics and modern

anarchism’s denial of the centrality of race in the dialogue. Anarchism,

looked at objectively, should be applied as a model of social

organization.

North American trends in anarchist thinking have advocated anarchism as

an ideology, philosophy or lifestyle choice. Yet the fault of such

application is that many assumptions made by anarchists deliver firmly

Eurocentric values in their introduction.

Just to be clear, when I say Eurocentric values, I mean values that have

become a little more complex than merely ‘white values,’ but concepts,

through the system of white supremacy, capital and subjugation, that

have become part of mass consciousness. The rise of modern Eurocentric

values can be traced to the rise of capitalism, and embody ideas which,

despite pretensions to the contrary by their most radical carriers, are

intended to serve white supremacy and capital.

Calling individualism, liberalism, the rule of (natural, structural or

other) law, democracy and free markets (e.g. free trade, fair trade, et

al.) Eurocentric values denies the rightful link people of color have to

them. In fact, Eurocentric values mean a sense of power, and of moral,

political, social and/or economic superiority to other cultures, with

the mission of assimilating them. For hundreds of years, European

scholars have bemoaned the failures of “other” people as a means of

talking up the superiority of their own belief systems, and assimilating

them into Eurocentrism. All of us fall into the trap sometime; as people

of color, we’ve been indoctrinated to tacitly accept the superiority of

whites over us, while whites have been taught to assume their values are

right. The “unite and fight” abstraction, at its core, is aimed at

winning people to its philosophy and assimilating all struggles into

“one.” In another example, you regularly hear proponents of anarchism

rejecting community cohesion and religious faith, but failing to grasp

that, to many people, such things are important and can, in some

historical examples, be an organizing spot. Even notions of consensus —

an organizing model developed by white, middle-class anti-nuclear

activists where a tiny group of people, often with many of the same

values, get together and mutually agree to something — are an illusion

aimed at reinforcing the values of a small group to the contrasting

values of outsiders. Proponents of North American anarchism too often

look to bring allegedly superior lifestyles and belief systems to the

fore, and oppressed people, directly or indirectly, can be the victims.

I do think a revolutionary movement will take root, and that it will be

broad- based. However, the mindset of many is a rush to idealism — that

social justice is “all one struggle” and that we all need to be united

to defeat fascism. I put forward the conversation that the rush to

idealism will be our demise as a movement. The white-led movement should

answer for its internal racism, and people of color should understand

what we want, how we plan to work, and be conscious and organized as a

struggle enough to fight this battle alone, if necessary. That kind of

conviction is important in this undertaking. We should not make

concessions to our demand for self- determination to win anyone’s

support.

Related: Class

Another issue on the unity tip is the anarchist romance with class. As

we forge a new path of oppressed peoples’ politics, as well as anarchist

theory and practice, we must take a critical look at class. Are we

surrendering our self-determination in the name of unity?

Within white-led anarchism, there is a subtle, and occasionally overt,

competitiveness between race and class. For example, in “Race and Class:

Burning Questions, Unpopular Answers,” a member of the North-eastern

Federation of Anarcho-Communists brings arguments such as “racism is an

excuse” and that racism is prevalent among people of color.

These ideas are presented to show class is the primary issue we should

unite under. “There’s an overwhelming amount of class-privileged ‘people

of color’ spearheading this movement, creating a culture that is class

reactionary to all working class people of all races in the United

States,” the piece notes. “These people are also quick to react to what

they see as ‘class trumping race,’ and find the common class struggle

between people of different races to be not as important as what they

share in common with the community in question.”

Similar points are made in a far cruder fashion. Most white radicals,

and some radicals of color, have adopted old Marxist notions of class,

class struggle and, most importantly, class solidarity. There are dozens

of names people of color get called — from “nationalist” to “reverse

racist” to “privilege pimp” — for pointing out the obvious importance of

self-determination, racism and the historical fallacies of class unity.

Although I do agree with familiarity with how capitalism functions is

appropriate, my concern is many class-unity concepts are based on two

fundamentally false ideas: 1.) that “the working class” (meaning the

white working class and workers of color, in the United States and

internationally) can unite to fight; and that workers of color and the

white working class have common interests, from the workplace on down.

Even most anarchist intellectualism stakes positions to which the two

misconceptions as their foundation. While there are indubitably surface

commonalities (i.e. workplace, housing, etc.), history demonstrates that

working-class solidarity between white workers and workers of color does

not exist. History further demonstrates that white workers, in almost

all cases, side with the oppressor and against workers of color. I’m

sure there are isolated examples of unity. Does that mean I believe

people of color should take such cavernous leaps of faith? Not without

their eyes open and minds sharp.

J. Sakai, author of Settlers: Mythology of the White Proletariat, has

been one of the hardest critics of the white working class. In an

interview I conducted with him, Sakai explained he researched history

and put his findings bluntly “I figured out that actually there wasn’t

any time when the white working class wasn’t white supremacist and

racist and essentially pro-empire.” Those who ad hominem dismiss Sakai

ought to follow up on what he says. From colonization to ongoing wars

and the dismantling of Affirmative Action, how many mass movements of

white workers (or whites altogether) were there, compared to instances

where white masses either stood with the elite, actively or passively?

100-to-1? 500-to-1? Herein lies the dirty secret of class politics. If

we have a few hundred years of history to look upon, in which the white

working class has consistently and in most instances actively sided with

oppressors and sold out people of color, what is the basis for

solidarity? If working-class solidarity were more than a slogan,

wouldn’t the racial discrimination and even profound racism within the

ranks of white workers have been obliterated years ago? If white workers

have rejected significant demands supporting people of color, what makes

them different now? They’re not. As Sakai points out, and deftly

illustrates, the white working class and people of color have divergent

interests. White workers just side with their own interests and the

empire’s.

Another conspicuous issue is the history of cross-class alliances among

people of color in fighting colonialism. Read the histories of Algeria,

Mexico and other countries and you’ll discover the internal

contradictions of class become far less important when faced by the

external contradiction of an occupying army. It’s the kind of history

that swims against North American radicalism’s beliefs that classes

don’t or can’t unite. Moving forward as anarchist people of color means

understanding our allies, as well as our enemies, and what that means

for our freedom.

Privilege and Assertiveness

One of the beauties of self-determination is the fact that it draws

lines of opposition, contradictions and prompts us to consider

privilege. Not simply the (still important) roads typically hewn by

activist-types — gender, sexual orientation and class — but looking at

one another and acknowledging the privileges of people within this

movement, and navigating that in hopes of being honest as possible.

Being self-determined requires such.

For people of color who were raised in or politicized by white-dominant

spaces, concept of self and one’s relationship with non-white-dominant

spaces represent one point of privilege worth exploring. In no other

instance is the difference between anarchists of color bigger than

between white-acculturated persons of color, and those socialized by

their respective cultures. Relational views; concepts of autonomy/people

of color spaces, racial experience, overall objectives for empowerment

and more are thus profoundly varied. In many cases, being raised in

white-dominant spaces is not a choice, although voluntary involvement

is. In both cases, participants must recognize that, historically, such

spaces impart values that, while dressed in democratic language, are

intended to further white supremacy; create confusion and division; and,

as a means of self- perpetuation, can make white-acculturated people of

color unwitting agents of white supremacist ideology. How internalized

marginalization and oppression function are critical considerations.

Very honestly, there are internal struggles being waged by conscious

people of color all around us. The sense of estrangement from

communities is real, as is the indignation some people of color feel

when whites assume that people of color have no other interests but

race. We need to be actively supporting one another through these

explorations, exhibiting care and knowledge. Internalized oppression for

people of color, manifested as guilt or defensiveness, helps no one, and

we need to see these issues of privilege as collective issues for all of

us in the movement.

Similarly, it’s important white-skinned people of various cultures and

ethnicities to understand the dynamics of race. This is a challenging

segment of privilege to steer, but it’s necessary. Light skin versus

dark skin is a demonstration of our internal struggles, as well as the

debates within our own colonies. As one person put it well: “How has

your light skin operate like white privilege among people of color? How

have used your light skin to pass as white in the dominant culture? How

has your light skin been used as a way to separate yourself from people

of color? Do you use it to separate yourself from other people of color

but not from people of your ethnic group? How does the collusion of your

light skin give people of color the impression that you are not in their

camp, but only come to their camp when excommunicated from the dominant

culture not wanting to have these privileges is not the point here. The

point is this: the fact that you do have light skin privilege in this

racialized society, it is important to be racially responsible with it.”

Talking about collective freedom through self-determination also

requires we have a discussion about individualism. Individual freedom is

one of the reasons we fight, and it is one of the highest ideals,

although the ultra- competitive society fostered by capitalism has

turned the idea of individual conscience on its head. Our objective as

anarchists is not to emulate what the media tries to make of us, as

self-involved monsters bent on greed and serving ourselves. Autonomy

doesn’t mean that our politics are defined by our moods or interests at

the moment, but by study, struggle and discovery. Individualist politics

are an exercise in privilege. Many Americans exercise that privilege

every day by passively supporting the empire. Some anarchists of color

get swept up in the moment, and start defining our politics by what’s

exciting at the moment, rather than realizing we don’t have that many

moments to lose.

Lastly, it is critical to recognize that the need for respecting each

other and organizing ourselves collectively. I’m regularly surprised by

the lackadaisical approach some people of color bring to anarchist

people of color spaces. From small things like showing up late to

gatherings to major things like exclusionary organizing, the message is

one of power dynamics and privilege. Sometimes it’s unconscious.

Sometimes people came up in a lazy political culture or one that didn’t

have to consider what starting a meeting 45 minutes late, for instance,

might do for a poor person’s bus ride or parent’s time with their kids.

Yet these examples are matters of privilege that mirror what is already

going on in white anarchist milieus. This needs to be examined clearly.

What do relevant politics look like?

Think about Adidas. Its purpose is to sell expensive shoes. But nobody

in their right mind will buy $200 sneakers. So Adidas has to evolve from

selling shoes to selling a lifestyle. The baller of the moment rocks a

pair of signature shoes as a hot track bumps in the background. Adidas

is flexible; it grows its campaigns as the tastes of potential buyers

evolve.

Now think about a movement. Making signs and sweating in the hot sun

doesn’t sell well. Who in their right minds wants that, verdad? So we

need to evolve as people’s media-savviness and minds evolve; the problem

is not that people don’t believe what we believe, but that anarchists

can seem completely uninspiring doing what we do. Why would anyone care

for a lifestyle of protests, long meetings, drum circles and getting

arrested?

Maybe those pissed-off Caucasians or grad students I mentioned earlier,

but that’s all.

We all want movements that are flexible and can respond to social

conditions. We also need to work tirelessly to keep political goals like

self-determination and tactics for getting there relevant to everyday

folks. No, we don’t need a movement led by Adidas, but we need to look

at, without bias, the world our people live in, and how our messages can

speak to them. I’ve heard ‘we can’t go to such-and-such because it’s

corporate’ as proclamations of people’s individualist politics twice as

much as I’ve heard ‘where do people hang, and can we go talk with them

about such-and-such campaign?’ If Adidas can have legions of cats

wearing their $200 gear, they’ve tapped into what we need to get a dose

of, and quick. A few points that came out of the “Building an APOC

Movement” workshop at the 2003 APOC conference, in terms of organizing:

take where people are and build from that. We have more to learn from

people than they do from us;

each other-working from our strengths; and

organizing.

And in terms of networking and resources:

building trust; and

We also resolved on a few ideas related to points of unity:

process.

Four key points of anarchist organizing:

cooperative forms of organization;

illegitimate authority, racism, sexism, and capitalism. Creating

alternatives to the dominant culture; and

of informal association, support services, and contacts that enable

people to survive in spite of the negative influences of government and

its bureaucracies.

Five criteria covered at the conference for measuring success:

exert control over their lives;

collectively; rotating tasks, sharing skills, confronting racism, sexism

and hierarchy;

problems they personally face through the organizing work;

so that the authority of government, corporations, and large

institutions is replaced by extensions of decentralized, grassroots

authority; and

collective effort.

These aren’t gospel, but they’re a start in moving towards the

conversations we need to have — whether you’re an organizer or not —

about self-determination, tactics, allies, privilege and more. As with

anything, we need to treat each other with compassion and empathy; don’t

let hostility, resentment or a quest for ‘accountability’ color your

efforts. Tearing each other down as people of color for perceived

transgressions is never acceptable under any circumstance. We’re not the

military, and nor should we strive for that. We have serious discussions

to have, and hopefully more learning, caring, fighting and loving in the

future.

Raising Children of Color in White Anarchist Circles by Victoria Law

Siu Loong means “Little Dragon” in Cantonese.

But Siu Loong herself isn’t Cantonese. She isn’t even one hundred

percent Chinese. Through me, she can claim to be Hakka, Suzhonese and

Shanghainese. From her father, she can claim to be Finnish, Hungarian

and Jewish. But she is also an American living among American

anarchists, where none of this supposedly matters.

Before motherhood became a consideration, I paid little attention to the

lack of color in the New York City anarchist “scene.” So what if no one

looked like me? Weren’t we all struggling for the same thing?

Pregnancy made me sit up and look around at the demographics of the

anarchists around me. Yes, I had followed (but not participated) in the

short-lived discussion on white privilege in Seattle’s protests against

the WTO. Yes, I would confront my fellow anarchists about their

internalized racism. But I never really went further and questioned why

there were so few people of color-never mind people of color like me-in

the anarchist movement.

Motherhood forced me to open my eyes. Before the recommended six weeks

of postpartum rest were up, I was up and about on my various projects.

Virtually everyone was supportive of my new role as mother and on-call

cow. However, I started noticing small things that bothered me about my

(mostly white) activist circles.

For starters, no one could pronounce my daughter’s name correctly. It

was pronounced, “Sue Long,” “Siu Long,” “Sue La,” any which way except

the way it was supposed to be pronounced. If people didn’t have trouble

making a small circle with their lips to say the word “siu,” they

couldn’t remember that “loong” had two “o”s. One person tried to shorter

her name to Suzy. I very firmly put a stop to that.

Before Siu Loong could even remember her environment, I looked at the

young children who made up the anarchist scene. Who would she be playing

with when she grew old enough to interact with other kids?

Most anarchists do not have children. Whether this is a political

statement or a personal choice, the face remains that anarchist children

are few and far between. On the Lower East Side, the anarchists who

choose parenthood and had enough support to remain somewhat involved in

the movement tend to be white.

It bothers me that Siu Loong’s companions are almost all white. I do not

want her growing up in an all-white (or predominantly white)

environment. I do not want her to wonder if she is somehow incorrect for

not having blond hair and blue eyes as many of her peers do. When I have

brought this up with other anarchist parents, they dismiss my concerns.

Of course they do not have to worry about whether their child will feel

as if she does not belong. Their children, even those who are of mixed

parentage, have white skin. They do not have to worry that their child

may feel as if she is not as good as her lighter-skinned, lighter-haired

friends. They do not have to worry about the fact that our small

community sometimes mirrors the racism and ethnocentrism found out in

the larger world.

Sometimes I wonder if I obsess about race too much. I buy her books that

emphasize her Chinese heritage and, more importantly, have characters

that look like her. When she began Early Head Start, I was secretly

thrilled that there were no white children in her class. When she

entered Head Start seven months later, I was delighted that ten of the

fifteen kids running around were Chinese and that all spoke Cantonese.

No one mispronounced Siu Loong’s name, not even the non-Chinese

teachers.

However, the parents and caretakers of these children are not ones with

whom I share anything except an ancestral homeland. For the most part,

we do not share the same language and thus cannot talk with each other.

Some of them do not return my tentative or “Jou sahn” when we pass each

other in the hall or wait for the elevator together. I do not know their

politics and opinions. After seeing my punk rock babysitter, they may

have guessed mine, although this did not prevent them from electing me

the chairperson of both the Class Committee and the Settlement House’s

Policy Committee. But because we have virtually nothing in common, we do

not arrange for our children to see each other outside the classroom.

Perhaps because their children are full-blooded Chinese, often raised in

a community of other full-blooded Chinese, they do not see arranging

play dates with the other Chinese children as a concern. Or perhaps they

already do, but because my Cantonese is limited to ordering food and

asking for prices, I am left out of the invitation loop.

In addition, despite my visible pleasure at Siu Loong being around

children who share the more neglected half of her heritage, I feel as if

I’m compromising some of my anti-authoritarian beliefs by placing her in

a school-like atmosphere. She not only picks up the odd Cantonese phrase

but also the seemingly senseless rules and regulations found in all

classrooms.

One evening, as I sat and talked with a friend, Siu Loong grabbed my

legs.

“Put your feet like this,” she commanded, attempting to bend my legs

into a cross-legged position. Then she grabbed my hands.

“Put your hands like this,” she demanded, intertwining my fingers and

then folding my hands.

This was not a comfortable position for a grown woman in a chair, so I

promptly uncrossed my legs and unfolded my hands.

Siu Loong tried to reposition me again.

“This isn’t comfortable,” I protested.

“It is comfortable,” she insisted, trying to bend my fingers.

“You need to sit like that so I can read you a story,” she added.

That was when I realized that, for some unknown and probably nonsensical

reason, Siu Loong’s teachers were having their charges sit for story

time with folded hands and crossed legs.

The logic of this escapes me. Isn’t it enough that the kids are seated

and quiet? Why impose a needless rule? Especially one that she will

parrot and annoy me with?

Often, I feel as if my life is split. If I want to be around people who

think as I do, who believe and are willing to fight for the same things,

they will not look as I do. They will not share the same culture or

upbringing. I will have to explain certain aspects of my life and

sometimes have these aspects be misunderstood or distorted. If I choose

to be with those who share my culture and collective history, I risk

having my individuality misunderstood or ignored. During high school, I

chose to be with other Chinese. We shared nothing except a common

ancestry. In that circle of friends, my needs and wants as an individual

and as an emerging anarchist were ignored. As an adult, I have been

asked why I choose to be around so many white people, why I do not

choose to be around “my own.” In this circle, my needs and wants as a

woman of color are ignored.

Sometimes I wonder if Siu Loong feels the split as acutely as I do. I

wonder if she notices that, around white people, virtually anything is

okay.

She can run and climb and laugh and shout. She can even take all of her

clothes off. No one will chastise her. The most that will happen is that

the grown-ups will laugh.

However, among those who look more like she does, whether they be

schoolmates or relatives, such behavior is not only not laughed at, but

actively discouraged and chastised.

When I try to talk with my anarchist friends about this split in my life

and hers, they don’t get it. Why is it important that I send Siu Loong

to “school”? Why am I subjecting Siu Loong to regiment and restrictions

at such an early age? Can’t I find an alternative source of childcare

for her-one that does not reinforce models of hierarchy and oppression?

And why am I so hung up on race? One anarchist described my concerns

about race and ethnicity as “nationalistic bullshit.”

How can I raise a baby anarchist of color if my choices lay between a

white, color-blind movement or a gathering of those who can identify

with her looks and heritage, but little else?

I’m still struggling to find some sort of balance between these two

extremes. It’s hard to think of solutions when those around me-both my

peers and the parents of Siu Loong’s peers-do not acknowledge that there

is a problem. This reflects a larger issue-white anarchists’ refusal to

discuss race, racism and exclusivity in the movement. Knowing this

doesn’t make it any easier. I am still struggling alone with this

concern.

Love and Respect: Parenting and Identity with Rivka Gewirtz Little

and Bruce Little

Bruce and Rivka Gewirtz Little met in Texas and now reside in New York

City. Some may remember Bruce as a founding member of the Federation of

Black Community Partisans, the predecessor to many APOC groups. Rivka is

a great organizer in her own right. This interview focuses on parenting

and how being parents has changed the lives to two kickass

revolutionaries.

Can you give people a little background about yourselves and your

political development?

Bruce: Being an introvert, I had a lot of political influence from

books, TV and music. As a teen when I was in junior high, I read a lot

of books on the Vietnam War and the international insurgent movements

during that time period. I remember looking at CNN during the days I

skipped school and recognizing the kind of military build up in the

South and Central Americas as being somewhat identical to the kind of

U.S military buildup that took place in Vietnam. Being a working class

black male at 14, I knew for sure that I was gonna be drafted. Later, in

my twenties, I read Malcolm X’s speeches and got involved in peace and

justice coalitions in Houston.

Rivka: The ‘80s affected my political development. I grew up in a

lesbian- parent household in upper Manhattan. Crack hit like a ton of

bricks, addicting or helping to jail many of my lifelong friends. AIDS

hit even harder, with many of my mother’s friends dying. Gentrification

eventually claimed the apartment I grew up in. Marshals evicted my

mother, throwing 25 years of our shit on the street and dragging me out

kicking and screaming. Yet I hated the left and all that it embodied. My

mother (a Jewish woman) and her partner (a black woman) forced me to

canvas for the Rainbow Party and I had been to more patchouli-smelling

sing-ins than any kid could handle. I didn’t see anything concrete being

done. I tuned out as much as possible. Thank god for that blip of a

conscious era in hip hop. I put my thinking cap back on and began to

organize around issues in college and later as a journalist focusing on

criminal justice issues. Can you talk about how having your daughter has

changed your lives, and what you want out of life?

Bruce: Having Navah has definitely added on more consideration to how we

used to function as activists before we became parents. We still strive

to work for the transformation of our communities, but we do have to

work through child care issues and “switching” to make meeting s or get

to certain protests.

Rivka: Having grown up in a severe state of urban emergency, affecting

change has always been part of my MO. However, as N grows, my political

work has taken a much clearer and more solid form. I am now desperate to

work for underground education, cooperative child care and other

services for children that function outside the oppressive laws of the

system. If there is any sanity to be maintained for me on a Saturday

night when my daughter becomes a teen, I know that I need to expose

police corruption and exploitation of youth of color now. I know there

needs to be an attitude that every kid in the ‘hood could be my kid and

therefore is my responsibility. My goals are very defined.

How has parenthood changed your politics, if at all?

Bruce: I was made more aware of issues like education and social

services since we had been thrust into dealing with them first hand. All

last year we were playing survival games with the State in trying to

keep our daughter in affordable child care. In a situation like that,

you almost have to be living on the street to qualify for these kinds of

services.

And you have to be in a single parent situation as well. I was

unemployed and R was working, but that wasn’t enough. The State wanted

me out of the picture altogether in order for N to be qualified to

continue to get childcare services. We wanted to look at certain daycare

programs that were started by grassroots activists back in the day

because we knew that they had progressive learning curriculums for

toddlers. But as funding for alternative grassroots based schools become

scarce, they get swallowed by the State and hence the classist

guidelines.

Rivka: Again, instead of looking at all the issues all the time, I have

really begun to focus on what’s happening to inner city kids. Being

involved with children all the time thrusts it in our face. Right now

the scariest part seems to be the prison state we have created for urban

youth in public schools, which later transfers into the prison

industrial complex. But then it’s also terrifying that mothers on

welfare are forced to deposit their newborns into the hands of strangers

so that they can meet welfare guidelines. There are so many issues it

seems overwhelming — so the thought of having to organize around

something like globalization (though I know its crucial) seems to dilute

my efforts on any front. Maybe in 18 years, I’ll start to branch out

again.

Is anti-authoritarian parenting possible or practical?

Bruce: I believe it can be, but it really comes down to the parent. What

are they willing to live with or live without as they raise a kid up

under capital- ism? There are networks of alternative health care

providers although small and scarce that anti-authoritarians can turn to

if they do not want to go to take their child to a “real” doctor. There

are alternatives to public schools and you can even squat or choose a

primitivist lifestyle in a remote setting. What I’m saying is that

radical parents throughout the years have chosen to live lives where

they raise children “unplugged” from the dominant culture and it can

work. I just see it as a “Your Mileage May Vary” kind of thing. There

shouldn’t be rules on how to build a family under an oppressed state. I

follow my instincts and common sense along with Rivka’s consul as a

partner. We may choose a medical doctor for Navah based on the

individual and how they practice medicine. Do they blindly prescribe the

medicines of the industry when there are alternative medicines to

consider? Are they open minded to holistic alternatives?

Do we as parents decide if we want to give our child those medicines

when we know based on our own research that that medicine may not be

good for Navah? I think being a conscious and thoughtful parent leads to

practical decisions.

Rivka: It’s totally possible, though hard. To me its all about

collaboration and cooperation. If you want to keep your kid out of the

system by way of doctor, school, etc, it takes a group of people who are

willing to chip and in cooperatively provide services. For example, the

only way for parents without cash to get daycare without going through

the state is to come together with a group of other parents to form a

daycare collective. I think the hard part is making the connections with

other people who have committed themselves to raising their children in

that environment. Once you make the connections, I believe it to be

possible.

How do you handle discipline?

Rivka: I have spent a lot of time thinking about this very issue. Is it

possible to raise a kid that questions and bucks authority while

instilling “discipline” in the home? In other words, how do you tell a

kid to challenge the state and existing laws and then tell them to shut

up and listen to your rules? On the other hand, four-year-olds don’t

necessarily have the capability to know that playing with the stove

could kill them-hence the clear need for rules: “Hey kid, stay away from

the stove, or else!” Ultimately, as a mother, my job is to extend the

womb for as long as possible until my child doesn’t need the support

anymore. The womb provides boundaries that make a fetus feel safe. On

the outside world, toddlers seek instruction to feel safe in a big scary

park, for instance. The trick is to provide rules for safety, while

teaching kids to question rules that seem bogus — including their

parents. Oddly, the safety and security that comes from a disciplined

home can empower kids to be- come adults who are strong enough to fight

the system. Of course, I’m talking a lot of shit right now. What am I

gonna say if Navah heads out the house in a hoochie skirt to the club at

16 and “challenges my authority” on going 
 Hmmm 
. ass whoopin’s all

around!

Bruce: Although I kid around the house about passin’ out ass whoopin’s

and I also make threats if I’m caught in bad mood, I have realized how

my upbringing instilled that “fear of getting in trouble” as a kid and

how we track that same fear into adulthood in the work place or at a

protest dealing with cops. I don’t want Navah to fear other people, just

respect other people who respect her. So I take my cue from Rivka’s

ideas on discipline, which means talking things out with her, not

bargaining. But also pointing out the consequences of your actions: if

you don’t clean up and take care of your shit, it’s not gonna be any

good to you in pieces if someone steps on it or it gets lost, or if I

get tired of picking it up all the time and it “disappears.”

Can you talk a little about how to impart culture to your daughter,

particularly when the push for assimilation is so intense for youth of

color, especially young girls.

Bruce: We started getting white Barbie dolls for gifts from some

relatives when Navah was like, one. Granted we did not lay ground rules

to our peoples not to give us Barbies of any color, but regardless, we

always knew that we had our work cut out for us to counter

indoctrination of white supremacy and negative body image via Barbie’s

marketing.

Barbie’s blond looks and body image are targeted to girls Navah’s age

and it can have that effect of self hating of a child of color hating

their brown skin and dark unruly hair. I think of the old Whoopi piece

she used to do portraying a young black girl with a yellow towel on her

head pretending that it was blond hair. We counter this in a couple of

ways like telling her how she and other kids that look like her are

beautiful too. As she gets older it will be easier to explain that there

is an industry out there making mad dollars off of people of color who

have been tricked to hate themselves and in turn will want to look like

someone they are not, or kill themselves trying. I would hope that she

will make her own conclusion that she should love her natural self.

Rivka: I think the way to impart culture is to provide it without

ramming it down your child’s throat. In other words, surround the house

with cultural books, and avoid the typical children’s crap, have parties

in which people are naturally wearing cultural dress, instill values of

your culture in simple ways like focusing on community and story

telling. However, I don’t think it’s helpful to start some sort of

counter indoctrination. I was raised with a little of that and had a

severe rebellion. I am hoping that if the parents love and are proud of

their cultural heritage and fill the home with ceremony and other folks

living the same way, the child will incorporate that in their way of

being.

One thing many multicultural adults say is that they struggle with

confusion about who they are and being accepted. How are you encouraging

your daughter to honor her many cultures and feel confidence in that?

Rivka: I have a very unpopular take on this issue. I am all about Navah

honoring her many cultures, i.e. Black, Jewish, etc. But at the end of

the day, when the police stop her ass driving a car, she will be a Black

woman and they will treat her as such. While that officer is beating her

ass for whatever sick reason he finds, he won’t be asking her if she is

a quarter French — know what I mean? My feeling is you provide all the

beauty of culture in the house in a positive way, but you let your kid

know the ropes on the outside world — bottom line. If there is some

confusion or refusal to accept at some point — well hey that’s normal.

As someone who comes from a multicultural home, I have gone through my

periods of self-doubt and even hatred, but it all shook out in the end.

What advice can you offer other parents to keep their child’s

curiosity and spirit going in a school system in which conformity is

most pressing?

Rivka: Provide examples of alternative ways of being on their free time.

Go to plays, free art exhibits and concerts, libraries, etc. I think it

takes providing alternative perspectives to keep kids away from that

conformist thinking. No kid will remain a conformist when they know

there are cool alternatives. And if they do, that will all change in

time.

Bruce: Deprogramming at home is the key. First you need to know the

school your child is attending. Who are the teachers, what are they

teaching, etc. Then ask your kid what they are being taught. It will be

the usual shit, like the first Thanksgiving where the first colonizers

partied with the indigenous Americans. Here is the opportunity to arm

them with tools like A People’s History of the United States by Howard

Zinn. It provides an alternative to conforming to the reactionary

historical perspective of the school system.

But you also have to be active in countering the stuff being taught in

schools by speaking out when you attend school board meetings, or yes,

even PTA meetings.

Most importantly encourage the child to satisfy their curiosity by

challenging the school authorities on the stuff they are teaching.

How can political meetings and spaces improve child-friendliness?

What behaviors — conscious or unconscious — need to be more actively

checked when it comes to welcoming parents?

Bruce: Political meetings and workspaces can improve with the increased

involvement of politically conscious parents. Building the APOC movement

means reaching out across class and age lines. If there are more parents

involved in radical community building, I believe that will improve

child- friendliness at meetings. Parents could organize themselves to

switch off in the child caring area from meeting to meeting so it just

won’t be any particular person’s “job” to watch the children.

So far I have been to meetings that have offered childcare, but I have

never really used that resource because Rivka and I usually plan ahead

of time when it comes to managing our time to attend meetings. As for

what kind of behaviors that needs to be checked, I can only say that

hopefully you can work with people who are patient and understanding

with children who cannot or will not sit through a four hour meeting

patiently.

What do you think about taking their kids to demonstrations?

Rivka: Take them, take them, take them. We had a scary experience at one

of the anti-war demos here in New York where police on horses were

trampling folks without regard to age or physical stability (including

seriously old folks). Navah and her cousin (also a toddler) were pinned

against a wall on our shoulders, just watching the horses charging

people and we couldn’t move and could barely breathe. It was terrifying.

However, both girls remember the experience with love and they remember

all the chants. They still joke “1, 2, 3, 4, we don’t want your stinkin’

war. That’s part of “imparting” culture and politics. It would be good

for parents to work in cooperation so that when scary things happen,

there are parents who can take over and get the kids out of the crowd or

help form shields around the kids so they don’t get injured.

Bruce: Yes, the parents definitely need to be organized, networked to

come to a demo and form contingency plans for when the police begin to

riot and break up a demo.

There is also the school of thought that you should be more selective

about what kind of demos you can take your children to. But in light of

the police assaults in some of the most peaceful actions that took place

in Florida around the FTAA, I don’t really know how selective you can

be. The police are defiantly following a decree to break up actions as

quickly as possible and as they see fit. Still some common sense and a

heightened sense of when things go wrong could be a parents’ best tool.

How prepared are you for her teenage years?

Rivka: Not. It’s all about instinct. My big fear there is that she will

come to think of MTV’s pimp and whore culture as her own urban culture.

I really want to help her get around that bullshit that so victimizes

women and criminalizes youth of color for the fun of white kids.

If Navah were to read this interview in 20 years, what would you

tell her?

Rivka: We have the utmost love and respect for you and all that you

embody.

The War of Art: A Conversation between Walidah Imarisha and

Not4Prophet

What role does an artist play? What role does a politically conscious

anarchist artist of color engaged in community organizing play? And a

bigger question, what social responsibility? Not4Prophet, voice for the

Puerto Rican political band/collective Ricanstruction, speaks with

Walidah Imarisha, the bad half of the poetry duo Good Sista/Bad Sista,

about anarchism, art, creation and the different ways of struggle.

Walidah: Right now we are seeing the birth of an anarchist people of

color movement here in the United States, which is really exciting to

me. I think that artists have a role to play in that movement, because

art occupies a unique space in social struggles. In fact, the members of

Ricanstruction came to anarchism partially through the art you were

creating together, right, rather than through reading about it in books?

Not4Prophet: Well, I don’t know so much if we came to it through art or

if we just started interpreting it through art once we started engaging

in “art.”

As I said before, the quest was always to find your own way, but not

because we were trying to adhere to, or create any kind of lifestyle or

ideology. Fact is, that when we came to the realization that we weren’t

really meant to exist within this shitstem that was created and

engineered by our conquerors, then we came to overstand that we were

already, for hundreds of years, resisting it in order to continue to

exist, and that we were in the process of finding ways to live outside

of this shitstem in order to survive it. So the idea of the necessity of

living an autonomous lifestyle was already in effect. It was just my

“intellectualizing” of the shituation that had to get a late pass. So by

the time we became “artists” we were already engaged in a battle for

autonomy, a struggle for freedom, so the art just became a reflection of

that and another beautiful, raging and vivid outlet for that necessity

for freedom and autonomy. I don’t think we could have come to it through

books, because the quest for freedom is not something the slave has to

be taught. It’s something we live everyday.

W: Right, and it’s that real life struggle that is the focus. Anarchism,

or any political ideology or movement, can’t just rely on art or

subcultures or youth rebellion to give it life in communities of color,

as it often has in white communities. I think a lot of the difference

for political artists of color and activists of color is that connection

to the community, being strongly rooted in where you came from. And

while in idealist terms, both for myself and other APOC folks, that’s

true, I know a lot of us in the APOC movement are middle class, and that

affects the way we approach anarchism, art and community-based

organizing. I know your experience has been different.

N4P: Yes. In the case of Ricanstruction, we were Puerto Ricans from the

barrios of Nueva York, whose parents came to the U.S. as exiles fleeing

a colonial condition, only to enter into a neo-colonial condition.

Babylon hasn’t been kind to boricuas. When you gotta dumpster dive or

beg and borrow to eat, and be homeless in the dead of winter or live in

condemned buildings waiting for a knock at the door at midnight (if

there’s even a door), and you get stopped by the ghetto occupying forces

we call pigs on the daily because you “fit the description,” then you’re

always trying to find a better way, a better place.

Speaking personally, I’ve been a gang banger, a nationalist, a Marxist,

a rasta and a santero, all in search of something better than this. It

took me a long time to realize that there is nothing better than this,

unless we create it ourselves. It was when I came to this realization

that I began living what some might characterize as an anarchist

lifestyle or perhaps an outlaw culture, which is just another way of

saying you are existing outside the laws that have been created by the

shitstem. I started trying to create not just a counter culture but also

an autonomous culture. And I stopped discussing how we need to reform

the police force, and instead began talking about abolition. And instead

of discussing our right to food, shelter and clothing, I began stealing

food and clothing and squatting.

But of course, police brutality, hunger, homelessness, a corrupt

government are problems that affect all ghetto dwellers; these are not

specifically anarchist issues. What’s “anarchist” is what you do about

these things. Yeah, I do think that APOC will have to deal with issues

of class and privilege if we are really gonna get anything done on the

streets, which is where it counts. We can’t just assume that we are all

in the same boat because we are all pocs. Some of us may have a boat

with a hole in it, and some of us may not have a boat at all. Maybe a

tire, if we’re lucky.

W: What tie do you think art has to community organizing? Is it

important in reaching out to folks, or are the more immediate concerns

of food, housing and clothing what matter most? I think it’s really easy

for middle class folks to lose focus of those basic survival needs while

getting caught up in the lofty ideals of making art, or on the other

side, it’s easy for them to think that working class and poor folks only

need their physical needs met, while neglecting the soul. So how

important is art to community organizing?

N4P: For us, it’s been very important because art is used by downpressed

cultures as a tool of resistance against the enslavers, the

“authorities,” and it’s everywhere; in the streets, the barrios,

ghettos, shanties, prisons, churches and mosques. We use art to

communicate, to resist and to rebel, so it’s importance can’t be denied

or minimized. There’s music in the domino players slapping the dominoes

down on the table, the baby crying cause momma’s got no more milk to

give, the brother preaching on the corner of 125^(th) and Lenox Ave.,

our feet as the tap the sound of the calle as we run from the cops

across 110^(th) Street. The revolution may not be televised, and it may

not make it on to the radio (unless it’s pirate radio), but it damn sure

will be seen and heard on the streets. For us, we have mostly tried to

make our art another part of the resistance struggle, the

anti-authoritarian struggle, the struggle for freedom. We create

political resistance murals on “private property,” outlaw art, and we

encourage the passerby, the ghetto dweller to join us, even if all they

feel that all they can do is paint the red line on the Puerto Rican

flag. We show films on the sides of buildings while abuelitas sell

cuchifritos that they made at home.

We always overstood the need for the people to take back the streets

from the authorities, to not allow them to have authority over us, so we

tended to utilize our art in this capacity. We would set up our

instruments on the street, plug into a light pole for power, start

jamming and encourage others to join us. Those who couldn’t play musical

instruments could draw on the walls around us or dance and sing, jeer at

the pigs as they rolled by. What could they do? The people had created a

TAZ {temporary autonomous zone) and the pigs feared turning a

“revolution party” into a “riot,” and the sense of liberation is so

deep, so thick in the air itself that the people can feel their own

freedom.

Art is only effective as a tool of community organizing when it is as

real and honest as the people and their quest for liberation; if it

doesn’t engender the people’s rebellion, quest for autonomy and ultimate

freedom, then it’s just entertainment waiting to be swallowed whole by

babylon, regurgitated and wrapped up in pretty ribbons or punk patches,

and sold back to us, revolution in Nike kicks and gap jeans. Art is only

worthy of the people’s struggle if it, as Amiri Baraka said “screams

poison gas on beast in green berets and cleans out the world for virtue

and love.”

W: Do you have a problem calling yourself an anarchist when you do

community-based artwork? For me, it feels tricky when you are trying to

reach folks in the community who know about anarchism through main-

stream media, who think of anarchist as black mask wearing white punk

kids who throw rocks and start fires but who don’t do any work. I know

in the community organizing I do, mostly work with prisoners’ families

and hip hop organizing, I don’t necessarily introduce myself as “Walidah

Imarisha, anarchist poet activist.” I have tried to find a balance by

instead incorporating anarchistic ways of working; consensus and mutual

aid, into the work I do, without expressly calling it that. I feel it

bypasses the stigma, and gives people a chance to experience what

anarchism is really about, without getting caught up on titles.

N4P: Personally I am not down with any titles, tags, or designations.

I’ve spent most of my adult life trying to find ways to do away with

genres and borders and envelopes, so I think we are always better off if

we don’t label ourselves or allow anyone to label us. Anarchy or

anarchism is really something we seek and live and struggle for, so it

doesn’t matter what we call ourselves (or don’t) if we are in the midst

of action doing it.

At the same time, we do live in a world of designations based on our

perceived politics. Socialist, communist, Marxist, nationalist,

capitalist, terrorist, and often these tags are overstood by the people

better than some amorphous non-definable non-title. So I think,

sometimes these “names” are just a way of giving some kind of clarity

(to others) as to what we are doing or trying to do. It could be easier

to say to someone on the street, “We are anarchists and here’s what we

want,” then “I don’t want to be labeled and neither do any of my

companer@s, but here’s what we want.”

I think also a lot of “activists” are afraid of scaring the “people on

the street” or confusing them, so they don’t want to use any terms that

they feel might be misconstrued by “the people,” but I think you gotta

give the “people” more credit than that. So, really, putting an A in

front of POC is really just a way of defining what we want to others and

to ourselves. But I tend to tell folks not to sweat the A in apoc. It

could mean anything: Anarchist, anti-authoritarian, autonomous,

activist, armed, angry. I like that one. Angry People of Color.

W: That idea of giving people on the street more credit is a really

important one. It goes back to the class issues we were talking about

before, because what’s being implied is that folks on the street aren’t

sophisticated enough to get what you mean, so you have water it down for

them. N4P: The hip-hop artist Jay-Z recently copped to the idea that he

“dumbs down” his lyrics and message for his audience so he can continue

to sell a bunch of records. This, to me, is a really sad premise, that

you would perceive your audience as a bunch of dummies that you have to

step down to talk to. It would be even worse if those who consider

themselves activist or soldiers in the struggle felt that it was

necessary to “dumb down” our struggle politics in order to “reach” the

“people” or the sufferahs.

W: That speaks to the larger dilemma of doing political art that I know

I have experienced; how do you keep it fresh and interesting, not let it

turn into propaganda, while at the same time still making sure that your

music expresses the politics you believe in, so you’re not watering it

down?

As a poet, the politics of my art are pretty overt, because all I have

are words to make my work. But I’ve also felt a trend as a poet to

produce art that is personal, and, not to trout out a worn cliché, prove

how the personal is political. But I have realized that none of my poems

are expressly anarchist in nature. I’m not even sure what an anarchist

poem would look like. And Ricanstruction’s music is obviously extremely

political, but I wonder, do you consider anarchist? And if so, what

makes it that way?

N4P: We’ve always tried to avoid the clichĂ© or propaganda or the

“political song” by simply writing about what is important to us,

regardless of what we are talking about. If we feel strongly about it,

we write about it. So we are firm believers in the idea that the

personal is political. Fact is, a song about fucking in the back seat of

a Lexus is no less political than a song about dropping bombs on

innocent people. Just different reasons
 or maybe not. Just because I am

not interested in writing about big pimping doesn’t mean that the person

who does is not making some kind of political statement, for better or

for worse. A lot of people make the mistake of believing that if you are

talking about so called “political” issues than you are a political

artists. But that means everyone else gets to be just a straight up

“artist,” regardless of what they talk about or don’t talk about. If we

are “political artists,” then everyone else are “a-political artists,”

but then what does their A mean? If we are “anarchist artists,” then

everyone else are audio slaves I guess.

I don’t imagine that there could be such a thing as an anarchist poem

unless it were totally free. But once it’s committed to paper it ceases

to be free. We’ve called our music revolution music at times, and other

times we’ve just called it music, but we try to make it at least free

and flexible and, I guess you could say anarchistic. Beauty and harmony

within the chaos.

W: That’s such an important point, that everything is political. If you

aren’t conscious of what you are promoting, then you are promoting the

same ole mainstream politics, which are still intensely political.

Sometimes, I feel like the artist in me and the organizer in me are at

war, with the organizer saying, “Well, why are you writing about love or

heart- break or relationships, when there are real issues to write

about? You should be writing a political poem.” I know that the two

sides aren’t opposed, and that how we love is political, and therefore a

love poem is a political poem. Like you said, “All Ricanstruction’s

songs are love songs.” But still, I do find myself trying to walk a

line, because even if love poems are political, there are still bombs

dropping on babies’ heads around the world, hungry bellies growling,

nightsticks beating tender flesh, over 2 million people in this country

going to sleep in a prison cell. So then do we start rating the issues

we discuss in our art in terms of social relevance, do we ration out one

relationship poem to two police brutality poems? How do you keep that

balance?

N4P: Well, we are still trying to figure out exactly what part does art

really play in this struggle at all. Is there such a thing as an

anarchist poem, and, if so, what the hell is it for? Is art a tool for

revolution? Does it lead us any closer towards an ideal? And, if so,

how? Is arts power in it’s lyrical message, or is that yet another

straight jacket? Maybe its power is in its sense of freedom. When we

first formed the group of artists that we now call Ricanstruction, many

people automatically expected us to play a specific kind of music based

on where we grew up, our ethnicity, our race. So we made sure that the

music would instead be a fusion, a not-necessarily describable amalgam

of everything that ever inspired us, everything we ever heard in the

air. We didn’t want to be pigeon-holed, so we made sure that one person

would say, “They’re a punk band, “and another, “They’re a hip hop group,

“or “They’re a salsa orchestra,” or a “jazz combo.” We used to say that

revolutionary music should sound like everything you’ve ever heard

before and nothing you’ve ever heard before. So I sometimes feel that in

this quest for revolution music, and how it works as a tool‚ that the

sonics are more “important” than the words because you can only go so

far with language.

But then of course, it’s not so simple because the words are still

important and they are the easiest way to communicate, short of throwing

a molotov cocktail at an appropriate target. The words are no less

important then Malcolm preaching on 125^(th) street, or George Jackson

writing from prison, or Che writing Guerrilla Warfare, or even Abbie

Hoffman writing Steal This Book. Or for that matter, Nina Simone writing

and singing “To Be Young, Gifted, and Black.” I think it’s easy and

expedient for the shitstem to write art off as being nothing but some

sort of entertainment, which serves as a way of declawing art so that

they can then commodify it and put it in a pretty wrapper and sell it

back to us as packaged “political album.” But as artists who are engaged

in the struggle, it’s important that we not get caught up in “bizness”

and start second guessing ourselves.

W: Yeah, there’s always that questioning process going on inside you,

and we often put limits on our art. Which in a way is a very good thing,

to be very aware of what you’re putting out in the word and how it will

be interpreted. But at the same time, sometimes it becomes more about

the right language and the mechanisms of intent, rather than creating

something powerful and beautiful and terrible, all at the same time. I

have written pieces that I love and feel are some of my best work, but I

would not put them out in a book or read them at a performance, because

of some of the language I use, and mostly the fear that what I have

written is vague enough that it can be misconstrued in a way contrary to

what I intended. So you try to create work that is art and not just

propaganda, make it wide enough for other people to immerse themselves

in it, to put your poem on and call it their skin, while at the same

time making it narrow enough that they can’t pull at it and stretch it

large enough to clothe whatever they want to.

N4P: Which I think is also the beauty of art. It is not something that

can be straight-jacketed unless you let it be. It is not a political

speech. It’s not an ideology or a party line or a ten point plan. It’s

free to talk about fighting or fucking, freestyle or funk. Yes, people

can stretch it and clothe themselves, and stay warm in the winter or

cool in the summer, or bulletproof on the frontlines. The language can

be raw, “real,” or revolutionary. Redemptive like a Bob Marley song or

Bad like the Brains. It can call us to fight the power, encourage the

people to get up, stand up, or go to sleep. In the end it can be madder

than Malcolm. Or not even matter.

W: Which is the all important question, that keeps political artists

awake at night: does it even matter? Does all the thinking and agonizing

and debating I put into my work really make a difference in the grand

scheme of things? I have to believe it does, both as a poet, but also as

a person who has been moved by art. It’s not the revolution by any

means, and people sometimes get it so twisted, thinking that spitting

radical rhetoric on a stage is the extent of their responsibility and

obligation.

But art is salve for the soul, and we all need that to continue in the

lifelong struggle we were born into (and born to win, as the hip hop

group The Coup says). We can all remember a song, a poem, a single word

even that moved us beyond measure, that gave us the strength to get back

up and push forward. Historically we can see that at the center of

almost every fight for freedom and justice was some form of art to carry

people’s spirits when their bodies were too tired to stand.

Whenever I think of the question of is art important, I think of Nikki

Giovanni’s poem “For Saundra,” where she is asked by her neighbor is she

ever wrote happy poems, and so she tries to write a tree poem, or a

beautiful blue sky poem, and she can’t because of the despair and

destruction she sees out her window. She writes:

“so i thought again

and it occurred to me

maybe i shouldn’t write

at all

but clean my gun and

check my kerosene supply

perhaps these are not poetic

times

at all.”

For me, this was so incredibly moving, because it’s what I think all the

time. Franz Fanon once said something like, “A poet must learn that

nothing can replace the unequivocal picking up of arms on the side of

the people.” It’s such an important reminder, that these words, this

art, is part of a larger struggle we must be engaged on many different

levels. But I think the fact that Nikki asked that question in a poem

shows that there is some purpose, because it reached mine and many other

people’s eyes and hearts. There is some sort of redemption after all.

No Way As A Way: An Interview with Greg Lewis

In the early 1990s, under the name “Greg Jackson,” Greg Lewis eas the

editor of Black Autonomy, the first Black anarchist newspaper in the

United States. Lewis, along with Lorenzo Komboa Ervin, became the most

high-profile members of the Federation of Black Community Partisans, a

Black autonomist formation. Today, he is a self-defense and fitness

trainer still living in the Seattle area. We talked about his history,

the trails blazed by Black Autonomy and Copwatch 206, and struggles

today.

Was there a defining political moment in your life?

One thing just led to another. All my life my mother struggled to feed

us and keep a roof over our heads. Welfare used to send her on jobs that

didn’t pay a living wage. But she was required to go, or else we would

be cut off for good. But, if by some miracle she made any money, it

would be deducted from her monthly check and they would threaten her

with prosecution or being cut off for making too much money. Every year

I had to take a form to the school to fill out and send to them to prove

I was in school. One more reason other kids had to pick on me.

The day she died, she was a college grad, Phi Theta Kappa, with a

bachelor of arts in journalism; but she was working at a fast-food

restaurant because local newspapers refused to pay her a living wage or

didn’t hire her at all.

When I was a teenager, I was on the bus going to work as a dishwasher at

an upscale restaurant when a group of white police stopped the bus and

ordered all of the black people off, accusing us of shoplifting at a

local mall. I glanced at one officer’s badge as I got off, he saw me do

it, and said that he would be more than happy to put a third ‘eye’ in my

forehead. Years later, I was confronted by neo-Nazis in the University

District, and I successfully defended myself against them. At the time,

I was a trained kick-boxer who fought ring matches regularly; they never

saw it coming. I later found out that I wasn’t alone; there was a

“movement” of punk rock homeless kids, gangster types and weed dealers

who were doing their part to run them off the Ave also.

It wasn’t until I read Revolutionary Suicide and The Autobiography of

Malcolm X that I began to get a clearer picture of what I was dealing

with. Later, some of the homeless kids turned me on to Marxist and

anarchist writings.

I drifted from one struggle to another. First, there were the protests

due to the police raiding a squat. At the same time, the former City

Attorney, Mark Sidran, was pushing for an anti-sitting and

anti-panhandling ordinance. Then, the neo-Nazis returned and stabbed a

black man on a bus on the Ave on Christmas Eve. It was shortly after

that the homeless kids got organized and marched to Broadway 100 or so

deep to confront them Then the first Gulf War happened and the large

protests shutting down the freeway, and finally the beating of Rodney

King, which led to two nights of riots, fires, and fighting the cops

downtown and on Broadway. All of these things happened one after the

other with very little time in between events.

It was in this climate that my politics began to expand and change.

How would you say your politics evolved over time, and at one point

in that development would you say anarchist ideas became most real to

you?

What drew me to anarchism was not so much the theory or the ideal, but

the way the anarchists did things. The Maoists were around in greater

numbers back then, but they seemed a lot like religious people seeking

converts. And they would get mad if you didn’t agree with them. Some of

them would actually challenge you to fight!

The anarchists did things. They took over buildings and lived in them,

they chased the Nazis off the streets, they would go to community

meetings and blast the so-called “experts” on homelessness or youth

issues, and they would share whatever they had with you without asking

for anything in return except for your opinion on whatever subject.

I used to call myself an anarchist, until one day an older activist, now

a political prisoner, Omari Tahir (he was convicted of hitting former

Seattle mayor Paul Schell in the face with a bullhorn; it took them two

trials to get the conviction), said to me, “I know what you’re against,

but what are you for!?” He also warned against letting others put you in

a box by of labeling yourself in way that is alienating to others.

To me, all “isms” out there are a form of ideological and social prison.

Like Bruce Lee said in The Tao of Jeet Kune Do, “Absorb what is useful;

discard what is not. Use no way as a way.”

If I am to be labeled, here’s the box to put me in: life-long black man

in amerikkka of mixed racial background, a so-called “person of color.”

I am a certified personal fitness trainer, and professional martial

artist and instructor. I am for reparations (for chattel slavery, for

genocide of indigenous people and the theft of their land, and for

police terrorism/murder of people of color; white people should also be

compensated for being assaulted by cops or losing loved ones to police

violence), self-determination (individual and collective), direct

workers control of community institutions by those within that

particular community, and an economy based the equal distribution of

wealth and resources. I am for freedom, justice, and equality for all

the human families of the planet. I am a revolutionary.

You were a founding member of two groups that planted the seeds for

a lot of movements today — Seattle Copwatch and the Federation of Black

Community Partisans. Can you talk about those groups and what, in your

mind, made them significant?

The Copwatch was significant since it was the first one in Seattle since

the Black Panther Party did their patrols in the 1960s. We were the only

group at the time that monitored the police directly on the street. We

defiantly got the attention of the police department, the local media,

and attorneys on both sides of the police accountability issue. I don’t

think the FBCP was all that significant; it wasn’t widely supported.

How big was FBCP at its peak, if you can mention that? And can you

drop some knowledge on the FBCP formed?

I honestly don’t know. Lorenzo was the common contact we all had. It

basically came about from discussions I had with him, and discussions he

had with black activists in the various cities he spoke in.

Do you think that kind of dynamic — where one person was the conduit and

leader, for lack of a better word — hurt the organizing generally? And

being who you are, one could guess you were not comfortable with such a

communication flow.

For me, the problem was more of a lack of numbers locally. I got calls

and emails from other folks involved with the project all the time. I

had plenty of allies locally, but the organization itself wasn’t

growing. Another problem was people not following through on what they

said they would do on a consistent basis.

In what ways do you think FBCP contributed to the theoretical

framework of today’s Anarchist People of Color movement?

I do believe it gave a voice to what many folks were already thinking.

Beyond that, it’s hard to say. Usually it’s the white anarchists that

come up to me talking about how moved they were by the newspaper, how

they were inspired by what Lorenzo had to say in their town, etc.

Why did the Federation of Black Community Partisans end? And what

would you have done differently if you knew then what you do now?

It barely even started. It was really a formal organization in name

only.

People weren’t interested in a formal organization. I received very

little help in funding or publishing Black Autonomy or in building an

organization.

To do it all over, I wouldn’t have done it at all had I known that

people’s word was not bond and that I would be used and abused for my

work ethic. Or maybe I would have published it as a more of a personal

‘zine. Lately, people have been asking me if I ever thought about

starting it up again. I don’t know. It was a lot of work and most

people, even so called “conscious activists,” don’t have the discipline

for the tedious work that it was.

A lot of organizations and work relationships suffer from

disparities on several levels. Could you break down your experience for

newer activists to avoid similar pitfalls? And do you think what

happened with FBCP could have been avoided?

When I was doing the newspaper, I didn’t even own a computer. I had to

arrange to use other people’s gear or go to Kinko’s or to a college

campus. That took planning and organization in itself. Then, I had to

assemble the graphics and pictures. That meant lots of cutting,

photocopying, scanning and re-scanning. Then I was forever waiting on

people to send their articles and letters, especially FBCP comrades who

were doing work in the streets. People had a really hard time with

deadlines. And all of that had to be spell-checked and edited for

length.

Once that was done, I had to send the hard copy to a printer down south,

since printing is so expensive out here. After that, distribution took

up more of my time. And I still had to go to work, do my own local

activism, answer mail, maintain accounting, train in karate, teach the

occasional self-defense seminar, and stay current on what was going on

in the world.

I think the way to avoid those kind of pitfalls is to be prepared to do

it all yourself, no matter what anyone promises. Plan ahead prior to

trying to put the paper together. And be sure that you have a way for

the newspaper to make money, because with publishing you will usually

lose money. In the four years that Black Autonomy came out, I never

broke even.

Same question about the group ending, but regarding Copwatch 206?

Lack of money. Political hatred from other local anti-police brutality

groups.

Eventual burn out. No non-profit funding agency will give you money to

really and truly solve the problem of police terrorism. They, like the

paid activists, are too tied to the system. Without the problem, they

won’t collect a paycheck. They don’t grasp with real depth that

capitalism and white supremacy are necessary components for keeping “the

American way” alive and well. And because of that, they are generally

more a part of the problem than the solution. Another Copwatch exists in

Seattle, born out the WTO protests, but they focus more on the large

demonstrations and confronting the city council on police accountability

to the public.

Can you talk about Copwatch 206’s tactics and political objectives,

and how those differed from others at the time, and even now?

Our job, as we saw it, was to ‘police the police’ and educate the public

on what their rights were under the law. Our slogan was “Copwatch 206:

the REAL civilian review board!” We even considered conducting citizen’s

arrests of police officers, but decided that would be inviting death

even more so than we already were. As it turned out, the people weren’t

ready for that; it was all we could do to get them to share information

with us.

We advocated for an independent civilian review board with broad legal

power, with a well funded over sight patrol, the copwatch, as the “eyes

and ears” of the board. We would use the investigative tactics of the

police against them. A brother by the name of Diop Kamal, who heads the

Police Complaint Center in Florida, is already doing it. He, along with

the Black Panther Party, was our inspiration.

The line that the rightists like to use is “well, if you aren’t doing

anything wrong, you have nothing to worry about.” This what we would say

to the police when they would pitch a fit about us filming them.

I cannot talk specifically about our tactics, since some of them are

still in use by Copwatch volunteers throughout the world. I would advise

folks to learn the law, learn how to use a camera under pressure, get in

shape and stay in shape, fix any legal contradictions you may have

before you go deal with their contradictions (pay your fines, do your

time, etc), learn the investigative techniques of the world’s law

enforcement agencies, surround yourself with lawyers and media people,

read (and re-read) Sun-Tzu’s “The Art of War” or Mao’s “On Protracted

Warfare,” and plan, plan, plan. And be prepared to be killed in action;

Copwatching is serious business and is not to be taken lightly.

How do you look at some of the criticism of Copwatch work today?

Every Copwatch is different in every city. I believe that over time a

uniform standard will develop. For me, the current standard of service

to the people has been firmly established by the Police Complaint Center

(

www.policeabuse.org

). Ultimately, it’s a question of what a cop watch actually does day to

day and what community a cop watch actually serves. If it is limited to

just the large demonstrations involving the “usual suspects,” then its

obviously not keeping it real. If it’s only a cop watch in name, limited

to informational forums, harassing politicians, and doing its own

demonstrations, then its not keeping it real. All of the above are

important, however the cop watch is most needed and effective when it

serves the interests of people of color, primarily, in a real and

tangible way.

As I see it, the real test of a Copwatch’s validity is measured by how

many beatings and killings of the most directly affected are actually

prevented. If the people the cop watch serves and the organization

itself can look back after a year and say, “see, because of our

vigilance in the streets, in the courts, in the media, and in the halls

of government, no one has been hospitalized or died at the hands of the

police in the past year!” or, “because of our vigilance in the streets,

in the courts, in the media, and in the halls of government, not one

police officer has gotten away with assaulting or killing anyone in the

‘hood or on the campus!” then all will have to bear witness that the cop

watch is real, is revolutionary, and is effective.

Where do you think the Copwatch movement as a whole needs to be

going tactically and politically?

Tactically, the Police Complaint Center is the current model that

activists need to study, dissect and improve upon. Diop Kamal and his

team have been instrumental in successful lawsuits and convictions

against abusive police officers and their leadership. Study the methods

used by the great reactionary law enforcement groups of the world, FBI,

CIA, Mossad, MI5, etc; and use their investigative and spy tools against

them. Just don’t kill anybody, like they do. It might be a good idea if

some folks actually went to school to learn how film making,

criminology, police science and other skills, at a professional level,

to make Copwatch that much better.

Something else that we found in our time doing it was that Copwatch was

also an effective deterrent to crime; no one wants to look stupid on

camera, and no one wants to get caught on tape.

One thing that progressives don’t usually get involved in is the

neighborhood watch programs. At the very least by being involved

progressive forces will know intimately well who the reactionaries are

in the community, what they are up to, and be better able to deal with

them before they get anymore out of hand than they already are.

In addition, the police are very open about the fact that they cannot

operate effectively in a neighborhood without the help of civilian

auxiliary organizations. I wonder how would they would operate if the

neighborhood watch or the local police reserve unit in a particular area

was dominated by radicals and the local copwatch was on a first-name

basis with just about everybody who lived in the ‘hood and all the

activists on both sides of the color line and the language barrier?

Same question, regarding the Anarchist People of Color movement?

Oh boy, here we go; you had to ask the ‘million-dollar’ question


Well, first of all, I believe that the term Autonomous People of Color

movement is a more accurate description of what’s really going on today.

I can’t speak for everybody, but I’m sure there are others who feel me

on this.

Let’s face it, we are separate from, yet at the same time allied with,

the main anarchist movement, the left, and the various struggle-based

tendencies (anti- globalization, anti-racism, Palestinian independence,

reparations, police brutality, tenant rights, homelessness, religious

freedom/post 9–11, etc) that call themselves movements. We may do work

with individuals and organizations within these circles, but I can

almost guarantee that we are a new breed of activist; a new type of

people, based on how we see ourselves, how we see the rest of the world,

and how we see ourselves in the world.

We may agree (or disagree) with some aspects and concepts that are

espoused by the various anarchist/anti-authoritarian groups out there in

the world, or we may (or may not) take positions on other subjects that

casual observers may label “Maoist,” “Islamic,” “Christian,”

“Indigenous,” etc. Our political, cultural, and, for some of us, even

our genetic influences are diverse. Our needs, wants, and desires

transcend mere political struggle; we are outside ‘the box.’ There are

spiritual dimensions to all of this, regardless of whether we pray to a

God (or Gods), don’t believe in a God, or call ourselves “God.”

The one common ideological thread I saw at the conference with those I

spoke to and the discussions I heard in workshops was that no one was

down with a leadership clique, a messiah or savior leading ‘the masses’

to the promised land, or individuals doing what they pleased with no

regard for others. People were for collective decision-making and the

idea of leadership by personal example. I think that’s what makes us all

“anti-authoritarian” and “revolutionary.”

Right now, my advice would be for everybody who was at this historic

event to stay in contact with one another. Organize similar APOC

affinity groups in your city. Attend the next conference if you can and

bring as many people as you can. Go to the APOC website (

www.illegalvoices.org/apoc

) and review the notes that were posted from the various workshops. Dis-

cuss what happened with other people in your community, especially the

youth. And read this book. Twice. And discuss it in your community.

I feel that the way forward is through all of us, in our own way, making

a conscious effort to contribute to the (r)evolution of popular culture

from that of consumerism and backwardness to that of intelligence and

popular resistance. Many of the artistic types (emcees, spoken word

artists, DJs, etc) are already doing it. This means more networking,

this means making communication between groups and individuals easier.

This means building more bridges between artists, street activists,

certified professionals in various fields, academics, and the “average”

brother or sister on the block.

This means being careful not to reinvent oppressive social relationships

(we must get rid of fear, hate, greed, and jealousy in our own heads,

amongst each other, and amongst our respective peoples; all of these

things breed reactionary ideas and actions) since this kills activism

and popular struggle from within, and allows COINTELPRO-type operations

to kill it from without. Out of that will come trust; then tighter, more

formal organizational structures; necessity is the mother of invention,

and I believe this is how it will occur. This is how we will build our

power.

Power consists of four main elements: knowledge, wealth, violence and

unity.

Together, we possess more than enough knowledge collectively to do great

things; the wealth and unity will come with the proper utilization of

the knowledge we all have. If violence can be avoided, that would be

great; but if our enemies want to box, then we will have to defend

ourselves.

A lot of people still pass around “Mythology of the White-Led

‘Vanguard’: A Critical Look at the Revolutionary Communist Party, USA,”

your article and analysis on the RCP. Some people — mostly whites but

even a few people of color — allege the piece was divisive. But most

really feel it and say it’s time opportunist elements like the RCP get

called out for how they target people of color. How do you respond to

the critics of that piece, and what’s your take on that piece now?

To the critics I ask, “If you can’t criticize them while they do not

hold state power, what happens if or when they do have state power and

they are criticized?” This question also applies to any other

organization jockeying for a position of leadership in “the movement”;

claiming to be a vanguard or whatever. Are the critics saying that the

RCP and/or other organizations are above criticism? Are the critics

saying that they themselves are above criticism as well?

I agree that criticizing allies or potential allies should be done in a

way that is constructive and doesn’t purposely hurt them, but at the

time this was written the RCP was doing things to directly hurt groups

and individuals outside their party, and the movement generally; and

either didn’t know, or didn’t care, or didn’t care to know.

I was under the impression that they didn’t care, since conversations

around various issues (some brought up in the pamphlet, some not) with

local RCP members always degenerated into shouting matches, veiled

threats from both sides, routine vandalism upon their bookstore and

occasional violence.

It was to a point where other organizations were calling for ‘party

discipline’ from the national RCP leadership. Some actually attempted to

contact the RCP’s central committee with their concerns. I was one of

them. At one point (around 1997) some black activists ordered them out

of the Central District (a historically Black neighborhood in Seattle)

because of how they treated oppressed people.

I don’t know about other cities, but the Seattle RCP behaves

considerably better now. I believe they have a clearer understanding of

their role in local politics and realize that they too cannot afford to

be alienated anymore than any of us already is.

In all reality, that piece was written in the spirit of Mao’s principles

of “unity-criticism-unity” and “let 100 flowers bloom, let 100 schools

of thought contend.” And this, despite any personality conflicts that

activists may have with individual RCP cadre, is precisely what

happened.

The October 22^(nd) event locally, which was for years exclusively an

RCP event, is now more diverse and powerful. Many activists are still

critical of their overall political line, but they do make an effort to

involve as many people as they can reach out to. They attend all the

major political events out here. They make an effort to encourage people

to pack the courtroom for every police shooting inquest and activist

trial, and they sent members to both of my trials (criminal and civil)

around the events of September 1998.

I have no beef with the RCP or its supporters at this time; they know

perfectly well what I think, they know where I stand on important

issues, and what I am willing and capable of doing. They may not like me

as a person, and this could be said for some of the anarchists out here,

but I’m pretty sure they respect me as activist.

Do you think it’s still fair to call the RCP, and particularly its

portrayal of people of color in its paper and literature, when the

organization is white-dominated?

Although the argument could be made that having images of people of

color protesting and speaking out is good, it also comes off as

ultra-liberal and even pimping the images and histories of the

oppressed, particularly when the RCP is against decolonization and other

issues.

There is not one white-led organization out there above criticism for

racist practices, no matter how ‘revolutionary’ they claim to be. This

one of many reasons this APOC network exists. Some groups are better

than others.

The only way this will change as far as the RCP goes is when the people

of color within the party or those who support the party make that

change occur. I notice that top-down leadership type organizations tend

to improve when the rank and file either leave or force the leadership

to leave.

Today, you teach karate and self-defense, and you’ve been an

advocate of self-defense awareness. How important is self-defense in the

lives of people of color?

Self-defense has been extremely important in the life of this particular

person of color. My journey in the martial arts began due in large part

to being regularly attacked because of how I look, how I speak, how I

used to dress, how I was a klutz and had asthma, the fact that my dad

was not around, and my mother was white. To this day, there are people

who hate on me for some of the same reasons.

What I teach is more rooted in the real living struggles of the

oppressed, rather than any ideological posturing. Historically,

traditional Okinawan karate was refined in the struggle of peasants

against Japanese invaders and the sell out king who disarmed them in the

1600s. Later, Japanese- adapted karate was used by some elements of the

population against G.I.s during the U.S. occupation of Japan after World

War II.

In this country you have the legacy of the Deacons for Defense, the BPP

— as well as the Brown Berets, Puerto Rican Independence Movement, AIM,

etc — and the Black Liberation Army. Most of them, probably all of them,

taught some form of unarmed self-defense to anyone willing to learn. And

then there’s the reality of domestic violence; this is something Franz

Fanon actually touched on indirectly when he wrote about how the

oppressed will attack each other if they are unable to attack their

enemies.

This goes on amongst men and women daily in this country, regardless of

sexual preference. People of color are the targets and victims of

violence more often than white people are; often at the hands of other

persons of color; people who look like us and speak our language(s).

Sad, but true.

The reactionaries are light years ahead of the forces of progress on

this subject. There is an entire industry devoted to teaching middle

class white America, both civilians and cops, how to fight back against

terrorists, car- jackers, thugs, serial rapists, etc.

Thankfully, there are small groups of progressive folks like Home Alive

in Seattle and Girl Army in Oakland who teach self-defense in a way that

is not about patriotism, racism, xenophobia, or personality cults around

a fighting style or teacher.

Many of those who are progressive, anarchists in particular, often fail

to deal with “what is” and try to leap directly to “what they wish to

be.” Some progressives grew up bourgeois and sheltered, and never have

been placed in a situation where their lives were truly in immediate

peril (until they got involved in radical politics). Or they got their

first education in the concept of self-defense from someone who used the

words and the overall concept to justify targeting them for abuse.

There are still those out there who subscribe to the ideology of

“redemptive suffering,” a pacifist politico-religious doctrine advocated

by Bayard Rustin, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Mahatma Gandhi; that

somehow those who do evil to the most defenseless segments of the

population will finally ‘come to their senses’ or ‘repent’ for their

sins against humanity because of the willingness of a few nonviolent

martyrs to be brutalized. Those who advocate non-violent resistance have

been jailed and killed in numbers equal to or greater than those who (as

Malcolm X put it) “stop singing and come out swinging.”

Proclaiming yourself to have sole ownership of the ‘moral high ground’

or ‘the truth’ in a situation only leads to alienation from those around

you and execution at the hands of your enemies, with help from those

around you who are now alienated from you. Jesus is a prime example.

I believe in self-defense by any means necessary, but what I specialize

in is unarmed self-defense and the use of improvised weapons. In an age

of tighter control on handguns, knives, and specialty blunt force

weapons (sap gloves, brass knuckles, etc) and longer prison sentences

for their use (even if its justified), it makes more sense in my

opinion. At the same time, it is good to be well rounded in the use of

tools other than your bare hands and I study in that direction.

Philosophically, I believe as Gichin Funakoshi (the founder of the

Shotokan style of Karate) did, that “karate is for the development of

character.” If you can control yourself, then no one else can control

you. If you cannot control yourself, then someone else will control you.

About the Authors and Interviewees

Author and interviewees in alphabetical order

Ernesto Aguilar is based in Houston, Texas. He started the Anarchist

People of Color listserv in 2001, and the APOC website shortly

thereafter. He edited Our Culture, Our Resistance and works on the

monthly APOC publication Wildfire. You can reach him at

apoc@illegalvoices.org.

Heather Ajani recently moved to Houston to focus on community level

organizing amongst people of color and to finish her oral history

project, “Black Star Rising: People of Color and Resistance in the New

Millennium.” Over the past six years, she has written several articles

and has been involved in various forms of organizing around issues such

as labor, immigration, prison support and abolition, and police

brutality.

Ashanti Alston, presently the Northeast regional coordinator for

Critical Resistance, is a former member of both the Black Panther Party

and Black Liberation Army, and was a political prisoner for over 12

years. Currently, he is a member of Estacion Libre, a people of color

Zapatista support group, as well as a board member for the Institute for

Anarchist Studies. He also authors the zine Anarchist Panther.

Walidah Imarisha is a spoken-word artist (part of the group Good Sista/

Bad Sista) and helped to edit Another World is Possible: Conversations

in a Time of Terror. She works with the crew of AWOL as well. More

information on AWOL is at awol.objector.org.

Tiffany King lives in Wilmington, Delaware and is currently working with

P.O.W.E.R. People Organized Working to Eradicate Racism

Victoria Law has been a self-identified anarchist since she was sixteen.

Since then, she has participated in various collectives and anarchist

endeavors, learned photography, been published on-line and in print,

made zines, traveled overseas and become a mother. She and her daughter

will be visiting her great-grandmother’s former house in Shanghai in

January 2004 between the Western and the Lunar New Years.

Greg Lewis writes, “I was born December 2, 1970 to a white mother and

black father. I was raised mostly by my mother. I became politicized

largely due to being targeted for racist violence by white kids in my

neighborhood, along with being on welfare from birth until I was 17.

This also helped jump off my journey in the world of martial arts,

starting with boxing. Today, I’m a certified personal trainer, karate

instructor, and I serve the people as minister of information for the

RBG hip-hop liberation group dred-i.”

Bruce Little is an anti-authoritarian of Afrikan descent living in New

York City. He works on technology volunteer projects that are focused on

bridging the Digital Divide. Rivka Gewirtz Little is a New York

City-based freelance journalist, who focuses on issues in criminal

justice and urban education.

soo na is an activist, student, and writer. She believes in articulation

of the possible, which is desire. In the past, she has organized

community dialogues on women of color and sexual health; worked with the

online website for young women of color and sexual health, MySistahs;

and co- founded the D.C.-based Coalition Against Rape and

Re-victimization (CARR), which first took to the streets on 13

September, 2003.

Not4Prophet is with the band Ricanstruction. You can learn more about

Ricanstruction at

www.ricanstruction.net.

Sara Ramirez Galindo writes, “I was born in the southeastern Mexican

state of Puebla, migrated to the U.S. at the age of 11 and grew up in

Compton, California. I started taking part in leftist political activism

& organizing while in high school. Today I’m part of the collective at

Casa Del Pueblo Cooperative in Los Angeles. My ‘formal’ institutional

education is being completed at UC Santa Cruz with a focus in Community

Studies and Latin American Studies; the informal education I’m learning

comes from everyday people like my family, the CDP collective, and the

children, señoras and señores who make up the Casa Del Pueblo Housing

Cooperative, who like me are ‘soñadores, seeing, thinking and acting for

dignity, community, ‘convivencia,’ and autonomy.”

Our Culture, Our Resistance: People of Color Speak Out on Anarchism,

Race, Class and Gender, First edition, published September 11, 2004

Disclaimer: This work has been edited for typographical errors and

formatting. Authors’ structure and flow, for the most part, has been

left intact, so to support people of color’s efforts to speak in their

own words as they wished. This work may not be free from editing faults,

however.

Note on what you may have paid for this book: Our Culture, Our

Resistance has been first distributed electronically, with active

encouragement that distributors print out their own master copies and

share with the public. The editor has requested distributors charge

fairly for the book, as the authors and the editor are not being paid.

Buyers are encouraged to scrutinize what they’re charged, and whether

any profits are being disbursed to (and to which) movements of people of

color. By all means, support independent distributors — and encourage

them to support communities of color.

Over the last decade, Third World peoples’ movements against

globalization, neoliberalism and related issues have captured the

imagination of the world. From the militancy of street protests to the

fight for autonomy advocated by the Ejércitio Zapatista de Liberación

Nacional (EZLN, also known as the Zapatistas), radical politics led by

people of color is quickly evolving. We are hearing less of old top-down

strategies and more about popular education and grassroots organizing.

A small but growing movement of people of color is developing a new

conversation that advocate anti-authoritarianism and anarchism as solu-

tions to our collective struggle. Such a movement is largely led by

youth, and such advocacy is a departure from the old-guard politics

espoused by revolutionaries of color. Many of these people of color met

in October 2003 in Detroit for the first Anarchist People of Color

conference. Others con- tinue to organize, agitate and act to find

bottom-up answers to the freedom movement’s most perplexing questions.

Our Culture, Our Resistance: People of Color Speak Out on Anarchism,

Race, Class and Gender, Volume Two is the continuation of writings by

people of color covering the concepts of anarchism, race, class and

gender. Released simultaneously with Our Culture, Our Resistance, the

purpose of this book is to contribute to the ongoing dialogue among

people of color and others as we strive toward freedom.

ISBN 0-9759518-1-5

Ernesto Aguilar, editor

www.illegalvoices.org

Volume Two

Dedication

This book is dedicated to people of color around the world and our just

fights for consciousness, justice, land, freedom and liberty. This

volume is also dedicated to the memory of Houston activist Olaniyi

Labinjo and all anarchists of color fighting the good fight everywhere.

Acknowledgements

Thanks to the authors; to Heather Ajani for tremendous support; to Erika

for her help; and to AK Press for its work, but also for rejecting this

book and inspiring independent people of color publishing.

Culture Clashes Among American Anarchists by Victoria Law

My great-grandfather was the type of man who refused to get out of bed

unless there was breakfast waiting for him. Since he wouldn’t get out of

bed to go and work, there was never any breakfast waiting for him. It

was a cycle that did nothing to alleviate the family’s poverty.

When he grew old enough, his son, my grandfather, left the small village

to seek work in Shanghai. He found it and spent the next year shoveling

manure for a living. He worked his way up to become a jeweler’s

apprentice, eventually opening his own jewelry store. He returned home

to build the village’s largest private house for his mother, who had

long endured the ridicule of her neighbors and acquaintances. When the

Communists won the Civil War, confiscating both the house and the

jewelry store, he started again in Hong Kong, this time with a family of

six and a wife who loved the latest fashion. One year, he held the

traditional Chinese New Year’s party.

It was packed with fellow entrepreneurs. The next year, his business

crashed; their doorway remained empty. The visitors of yesteryear, who

had eaten all his snacks and drank all his liquor, had found more

lucrative families to call upon.

My other grandfather was the unsuccessful owner of a factory that made

burlap bags. Rarely did these bags yield a profit and so my mother’s

strongest childhood memories are of eating salted peanuts one at a time

to make them last. Her younger sister died of hunger. One of her older

sisters had to be given away.

Despite these inauspicious beginnings, both of my parents had attained

middle-class status by the time I was born. They had come to the States

to go to college. Both were the first generation in their families to

attend, let alone graduate, high school. They owned their own home in a

predominantly white area in Queens. Both parents worked white-collar

office jobs. I have no childhood memories of material want.

This last fact has been used against me when I bring up race and racism.

There have been more than a few occasions when white anarchists quickly

shift the conversation from my discomfort at being the only non-white

face in the room to class issues. I had a middle-class childhood. How

dare I complain about, or even question, the lack of racial diversity in

any given anarchist project when I have never experienced material

deprivation? It does not matter that I grew up to become a single mother

making less than fifteen thousand a year. The fact that I grew up

privileged invalidates anything I might have to say about

discrimination-whether it be based on race, skin color, gender or even

my status as a parent-both in and out of anarchist circles.

In their attacks on my well-to-do childhood, white anarchists overlook

some deep-rooted cultural differences. For instance, I grew up with a

series of amahs. In pre-1949 China (and in post-Revolution Hong Kong),

Chinese parents rarely cared for their own young. Instead, they turned

them over to amahs, who acted as wet nurses, babysitters and maids.

Most amahs remained with the family until all the children were grown

and continued to maintain close ties with their nurslings. For the

poorer families, like that of my maternal grandfather who could not

afford to hire a woman, the elder children took responsibility for the

younger. In earlier times, the son was married off-at the age of two or

three-to a preteenage girl whose role was more that of surrogate mother

than wife.

American culture has nothing that resembles the amah. Wealthier families

may have nannies, which is what I suppose the average American anarchist

envisions when I talk about my childhood. Because many of them have

grown up in places that encourage ethnic and cultural segregation and

because Chinese culture discourages unnecessary interaction-

particularly more intimate interaction-with other cultures, they have no

frame of reference for my stories. I am seen as having grown up with the

privilege of having had servants. There is little attempt to probe

further into the culture and understand that amahs, while technically

employees of the household, had more intimate relationships than an

American family’s maid, cleaning lady or dog walker.

Perhaps this refusal speaks to the internalized notion that only

American heritage and tradition matter. If an experience comes from

someplace else, it doesn’t count.

It is not just the differences in culture that cause misunderstanding.

What many self-proclaimed working-class (white) anarchists fail to

understand is that having money did not insulate me from the insults

American society heaps upon its children of color and its girl children.

The fact that my parents held white-collar jobs did not prevent me from

encountering grown men who believed it was within their right to

approach a ten-year-old girl and quietly say, “Nice pussy.” My parents

owning their own home did not protect me from other children pulling

their eyes sideways and taunting me. Living in a well-to-do neighborhood

did not shield me from the history teacher who looked at me and the

Indian girl in his sixth-grade classroom and said, in all seriousness,

“It’s too bad that you come from inferior cultures.”

Such closed-mindedness is not limited to anarchists focused on class

struggle. Although all anarchist groups and projects proclaim, “We

welcome all who agree with our mission statement, regardless of race,

sexual orienta- tion, etc.,” what many of these groups fail to realize

(or perhaps don’t care to realize) is that their mission statements and

their ideal visions often fail to address, or even acknowledge, the very

different realities we come from.

Their mission statements may sound good on paper, but often fail to take

into account that many people of color do not feel comfortable in almost

all- white spaces. They refuse to acknowledge that we may have had bad

experiences with predominantly white groups both in and out of the

anarchist movement. They refuse to understand that we automatically

notice when we are the only ones in the room. They refuse to comprehend

that we are tired of being touted as the group’s (sole) member of color,

of being accused of being overly sensitive to skin color or of having

our concerns ignored altogether.

They refuse to see that overthrowing the capitalist system will not

automatically address the institutional and internalized racism, sexism

and other forms of discrimination that we experience every day.

Last winter, I went to a meeting of anarcha-feminists. The flier offered

childcare — a rarity in the anarchist scene. That alone made me hope

this would be different than other meetings and groups I’d attended in

the past. After all, the organizers, neither of whom were parents,

understood the need for childcare.

They might be more open-minded about other issues as well.

After dropping my daughter off in the childcare space, I entered the

meeting room. A circle of chairs had been set up. As the room filled, I

noticed every face except mine was white.

A few years ago, this would not have bothered me. I had entered the

anarchist scene in high school and hadn’t cared much about racial

diversity or differences. I was just glad that no one made fun of me

because I looked different or acted different or actually cared about

what went on in the world. As I grew older, I began to notice my

difference more and more. I noticed that people sometimes treated me

differently, as if they were going out of their way to welcome the one

woman of color and prove that they were not racist. In high school, I

was invited to a Love and Rage meeting.

Love and Rage was a closed collective; more than a few older white

anarchists in the scene were surprised that I, a girl so new to

politics, had been asked to participate while they had been ignored by

the group for years. I arrived to the meeting late. The discussion was

going full force.

The topic? How to bring more people of color into the organization.

That day, I was acutely aware I was very unlike the others in the

circle. My discomfort lessened only slightly when another woman of color

entered.

Throughout the meeting, I struggled with the prospect of bringing up the

group’s lack of diversity. I wondered if my concerns would be dismissed

or even ridiculed. I wondered if I would be accused of being divisive or

of distracting from the “real” issue of women’s status in the anarchist

movement.

At the end of the meeting, as a sign-up sheet was being passed around,

another woman — one with blond hair and blue eyes — saved me the

discomfort. “Before I agree to be on any sort of listserv or be part of

any kind of network, I want to ask about future outreach. I’m not

interested in being part of a predominantly white group.”

All eyes divided between darting towards me and towards the other woman

of color on the far end of the room. I was glad that a white woman had

brought up the subject. However, since half the people in the room were

looking at me and no one at all was speaking, I decided to add my

thoughts. “I think the term anarcha-feminist might turn away some women

of color who share the same politics but don’t explicitly identify as

anarchist. Maybe the next flier can drop the term.”

As I spoke, I remembered past conversations with radical women of color-

women who shared anti-authoritarian ideas and beliefs but who didn’t

want to be identified with a movement that they saw as white brick

throwers. I thought about the woman of color who had attended a few

different anar- chist meetings and been turned off by white male

anarchists’ dismissal of race issues. I thought about the woman of color

who had posted the article, “Where was the Color in Seattle?” Her

concerns had been dismissed as unimportant; what really mattered were

class differences. I thought about the radical women of color who had

the perception that anarchists were either unwashed, smelly white punk

kids or white academics. Both had the option of renouncing radical

politics and rejoining the mainstream world. This was what the word

anarchist conjured up for them.

Why would they want to get involved with any group that labeled itself

that?

There was an uncomfortable pause. After some hemming and hawing, an

organizer suggested perhaps instead of directly trying to reach out to

women of color, this group could do fundraisers and donate the proceeds

to women of color organizations “that are doing good work.”

I felt as if I’d been smacked. I wondered if the woman realized how

patronizing and racist her suggestion was. In my mind, I could see

Charlotte Mason giving money to the black artists she deemed “primitive”

enough. Only, instead of the 1930s heiress who demanded her artists sit

at her feet and call her “Godmother,” these were post-millennium

anarchists deciding which women of color were anti-authoritarian enough

to receive their money.

The other organizer had a different suggestion, one which also

circumvented the possibility that they would have to reach out to women

other than the same old (white) faces. She suggested that the group work

around issues facing women of color, such as the prison-industrial

complex. Although she didn’t outright say it, I felt that her suggestion

was that this predominantly white group speak for and act on behalf of

women of color rather than actively trying to get them involved or even

find out what their main concerns were.

Later I learned that one or two of the attendees had felt offended on my

behalf. How dare someone bring up race and the lack of non-white faces

with Vikki sitting right there? Is she blind? Doesn’t she realize that

Vikki is a person of color? Is she implying that Asians are not really

people of color? They refused to see her question as anything other than

an attack on me. I tried to explain that I was glad that a white person

had broached the subject because, frankly, I was tired of being the one

who always had to. Instead, I began to understand that many white

anarchists are unwilling to talk about race. They would rather dismiss

it as a social construct that does not apply to anarchists and, thus,

ignore the issue altogether.

The next time I saw this woman, I thanked her for bringing up the

subject. I wanted to let her know that I was not angry or offended by

her observation.

“You shouldn’t have to always be the one to bring it up,” she stated.

Since then, I have not had a white ally in other projects to pipe up and

point out the obvious. It has fallen to me-the woman of color, often the

only woman of color in the room-to point this out. The responses have

ranged from un- comfortable silences to lukewarm acknowledgments to

outrage. Whatever the tone, the common defense is always, “We don’t

discriminate against people of color.” What is left unsaid is, “See? We

welcome you. That’s proof that we don’t discriminate.”

I now understand why so many people of color are wary of working with

whites. When I first encountered the suspicions and wariness of people

of color towards white anarchists, I dismissed their concerns. “Hey,

they’re doing good work,” I defended. “Who cares what color they are?”

I now see that it is not that white anarchists are white. It is that

many of them are unwilling to try to understand the needs, concerns and

experiences of those with different skin colors.

As an anarchist of color, this disturbs me. I am tired of always being

put in the position of explaining racism and race issues to white

anarchists, sexism and gender issues to male (and sometimes female)

anarchists, or some form of discrimination to virtually everyone I

encounter. I am tired of the prophecy that in an anarchist society,

racism, sexism and all other forms of discrimination will magically

cease to exist. Such explanations no longer appease me. Instead, I see

them as white anarchists’ way of not confronting the problems and issues

within our own movement and within themselves.

Pencils like Daggers by TomĂĄs Moniz

It starts with a story:

My grandma, worried that her 3-year son had not spoken a word yet, had

him chase down a grasshopper. Diligently, without complaint, the boy did

and returned with a smile. Open she said; confused and scared, he did.

She shoved it in and closed his mouth. Hablas, mijo, hablas. He spit it

out crying. Crying and yelling. He has not stopped either since, she

says, and smiles thinking of her now 50-year-old son talking his time

away in a New Mexican state penitentiary.

This is not make-believe. This is how we find our voice. This defines

our language.

Here is my story. Or the start of it. My name is Tomas Ignacio Aragon;

everyone calls me Tom. This I know for sure. I come from families of

lies, of stories to deceive you, to deflect discovery. As a bicultural

child, I was not comfortable in nor completely accepted by either side

of my families. In the white world of my working class mother, I was the

visible mistake, the dark stain on the family name. White working class

military folk, dealing with the daughter who runs away to find her

place, to save the world in the late ‘60s, and comes home struggling to

save herself and feed her two year old son. With her, I was raised to

avoid declarations of race, of difference, trying not to discuss my

brown skin and brown hair in a family of blonds and blue eyes,

forgetting my Spanish, speaking English only. I hid my shame with my

silence.

On the Chicano side, I was the product of typical male weakness, the

sign of my father’s co-option and ultimate demise by white women come to

save the poor, the natives. He was seduced by her presence, her

education, her future. And those things he loved about her, she used to

leave him when he found his place in el pinto, the typical educational

facilities for poor Chicanos in New Mexico. His anger at her transferred

in to his abandonment of me. No letters. No contact. My father running

from the law, running, running, knowing the inside of a cell more than

his son. Wait. This is not a story. This explains nothing, so I create

my own explanations.

I started writing to find my color, saying on paper in black indelible

ink what I couldn’t to my classmates, to my first few lovers, to my

mother and members of my own family: I am Mexican. I am white. I am.

‘Fight one bean you fight the whole burrito.’ I remember this saying as

a warning white kids said about fucking with Mexicans in Ventura,

California.

I remember the sound that they made on the school bus, slapping hands,

laughing, all building a solidarity of whiteness or non-brown-ness when

one kid calls out ‘smells like beans’ as the Mexicans leave the bus,

walking down the aisle. At 15, I couldn’t stand it any more. I stood up

and hit the kid in front of me with my backpack breaking my connection

to them. I wanted to be the burrito. I am Mexican; I am not white. But

in the end I was wasn’t welcomed. I am the one who had to find trouble

rather than it finding me. It has been the same ever since. I walk the

borders of cultures, the too white to be brown and too brown to be

white. Sometimes hassled by both sides and sometimes passing into each.

Sometimes seen as one of the boys, sometimes the affirmative action

product. I enter college deciding to claim, to rename, to embrace and

revel in my contradiction, my displacement, my ambiguity, my absence of

certainty.

MEChistAs in college scoffing about my lack of Spanish and complaint

that meetings were in held only in Spanish. ‘Chale, man. What’s up with

you?’ Because I was raised by a English speaking white mother. Awkward

silence.

My teacher asked why the absence of Mexican American writers in a

California literature class bothered me. Because I am one. Awkward

silence.

This is the only way I can speak to you. I am an academic and I am not

afraid to talk that talk — the hybrity of myself causes these

contradictions that I embrace like old lovers knowing how to soothe each

one, how to excite and comfort. I was freed in theory and abstraction

finding voice in books by Moraga, Anzaldua. Finding fathers in Acosta,

Reechy. Finding heart in the radical acts of violation and violence like

Tijerina at the New Mexican courthouse, Murrieta’s refusal to bow his

head, Los Crudos’ demand for an uncompromising politic, Rage Against the

Machine’s connection to difference and abhorrence of authority. I became

a bicultural, Chicano with no respect for authority, no time for lazy

assumptions about race, culture, politics, class, sexuality. I found

myself in the refusal to singularly define myself.

Wait. This is a lie. These words. Stories.

How do I claim myself: how to separate what I feel as a Chicano, as a

male, as a person of privilege. How do you claim anything when you can’t

claim the authenticity of your own voice? Remember: speak clearly, be

careful if your pronunciation is off, if your skin fades too pale in the

winter, present you color in your movements, your clothes, your lovers.

In a world that wants singularity, I choose both. In a culture that

wants uniformed sexuality, I choose to embrace bisexuality. In a society

that denies authentic autonomy, I found myself in anti-authoritarian

histories, in the romance of clandestine organizations. I was seduced by

the pen and the gun, by non-monogamist lifestyles, by radical, dissident

Chicano nationalism, by the feminist rhetoric to reclaim our selves, our

lives, our sex, our religion, our consciousness. This has defined me and

hurt me. I tend to be the problem, the one who asks too many questions,

who is never comfortable with the way it is. With the way I am.

But now I refuse to be silent or shameful or half-hearted. I tried to

avoid it for a while, but if I wanted to find and meet other anarchists

in the East Bay, I needed to go to the Long Haul, an anarchist infoshop

in Berkeley. So I took a deep breath, opened the door and entered,

trying to free myself of my previous feelings, my stereotypes, my love

and hate for the anarchist com- munity; and yes, I know it ain’t one

homogeneous thing, but regardless, my experiences with it have been

fraught with good ol’ revolutionary angst.

Let me explain.

I have never been into the punk scene, I am not white, I became a father

at 20 and had to think about changing diapers, not just about changing

social structures. I remember being chastised by someone trying to get

us to go up one summer to the logging protests and when I reminded him

of my responsibilities, he snapped back: ‘what was more important.’ I

wanted to punch him, to make him see his ignorance, the elitism of

privilege, the typical dismissal of people with children, with jobs to

pay for food and rent.

Yet, this has happened over and over. Meetings at 6 p.m. or reading my

child a bed time story? How to choose? It felt as if I could never fully

commit, never be as dedicated as the people I met — mostly younger,

white, students, who were mobile, who could survive on a fluctuating

income. Now there is nothing wrong with this, but this was not me, not

my experience, not my culture. But I knew that the anarchist views more

closely resembled my views about how life could be lived than anything

else, so I tried as much as I could to find that community. I brought my

kids to meetings; I swapped childcare with other parents on my block (a

nice way of realizing it truly does take a neighborhood to raise a

child). I tried to figure out how to balance riding bikes with my kids

around the block versus riding in critical mass, which is right at

dinner time.

I realized I needed the anarchist community after years of trying to

compartmentalize the seemingly disparate aspects of my life — the

non-monogamist, the self-schooling parent, the activist, the Chicano

academic, the fuck-the-police poet. But how I got to this point is

another story. Is in fact many stories.

Let me start at the beginning. I began noticing the glaring

discrepancies in my life; I grew up on hip-hop and could see it being

co-opted into cheap fronting and frivolity. This was not the community I

was a part of, dressed in hand-me-downs and learning to break on ripped

up sections of linoleum.

I simply couldn’t handle the growing consumerism, the value placed on

objects, after having lived in poverty, after scoffing at and detesting

the symbols of wealth for so long (yes, out of envy and jealousy at the

time perhaps). Yet, I desperately needed to believe in the

anti-authoritarian politics of NWA, Public Enemy, Freestyle Fellowship

and others, for I was not hearing it from anyone else nor in any other

way that spoke to me.

It continued in undergraduate classrooms in which I was appalled at the

refusal to engage in anything but what was deemed ‘practical and

possible realties.’ After being told that Republicans and Democrats held

the only legitimate and viable worldviews, I wondered how the hometowns

I grew up in — Las Vegas, New Mexico, Kailua, Hawaii, Ventura,

California — were included in anything we discussed. How did these

‘viable’ political choices account for the poverty, the single mothers,

the drugs, the lack of choices available? There had to be another way.

And when I did make my way to an anarchist study group. I seethed at

people’s unwillingness to even attempt to connect anarchy with issues of

race and privilege. There had to be other ways. Other places. Others.

So I retreated for a while into my own experiences, creating and

nurturing a lifestyle that embodied the values I couldn’t find

elsewhere. I found connections with my imprisoned father and prison

issues that introduced me to Attica, to my father’s penitentiary, to

political prisoners. I reveled in becoming a father and was soon

horrified as disciplined behavior became the primary learning objective

in my son’s school. What could I do, where to turn? I refused to

participate in the privilege of private schooling so that was out. And

then I found The Teenage Liberation Handbook, and we created our

autonomy, but struggled to connect with others who chose to homeschool

for reasons of liberation rather than Christian bullshit and racist,

classist fears about public education. Where were the other parents?

People fuck, so I know people reproduce.

Moving to the East Bay from the city did help me meet more people with

similar values. While attempting to create a relationship based on free

choice rather than social coercion, my partner and I met another young

parent questioning the rigid social definitions of what relationships

could be. With the inspiration from Emma Goldman and the practical

advice from The Ethical Slut, we began to embrace non-monogamist freedom

to explore our own sexuality, our growing identities, our interests. But

even here we felt out of place: we weren’t 50-year-old hippies

reminiscing about free love, nor were we new age converts trying to fuck

while rubbing crystals and engaging in tantric poses. We were in our

late twenties, we were looking for others more like us.

All these interests and choices of my life culminated in the tear gas of

Seattle. Studying globalism as an advisor to student clubs on the campus

I taught at, we decided to participate in the WTO protests, not

realizing the dramatic and liberating events that we would be a part of.

So after the smoke cleared from Seattle and then DC and then Quebec, I

realized that I could no longer chase the revolution, that I could no

longer compartmentalize the different aspects of my life. I needed a way

to synthesize them all. After ten years of making half-hearted attempts

to connect with people who looked and lived so differently it seemed

than me, I decided to toss aside my ego, my attitude, and my fears and

both find and help create the community I wanted.

In the three years since I have made this commitment to be involved in

the anarchist community, I have met some powerful and inspirational

people; I have learned to see that resisting the oppressive and

seemingly undefeatable social world we live in can be practiced in so

many minute, marvelous and meaningful ways — in fucking, in gardening,

in punk, in slumming it, in cooking. Perhaps even in crystals. I’ve been

a part of RACE (Revolutionary Anarchists of Color), been to and

participated in the anarchist conference, started a zine, boxcutter,

with a few others to explore aspects of personal liberation. I even

staff a shift now at the Long Haul.

With each step I try to bring my stories and my experiences with me. I

want to be a part of something that combines theory and praxis, that can

talk the talk and walk the walk, I want to work with people that I can

learn from, that inspire me in my own efforts of teaching, parenting,

living my daily life. I want to try and fail rather than remain safe in

stasis. And yet, at times I still feel like an outsider to the

radical/anarchist community. But now I know that I am apart of it, and

so I have a responsibility to it, to help shape it. I am writing to

engage myself in this process that will force me to embrace more of it,

to be more involved in it, and to welcome other people like me —

marginalized from the mainstream, yet not quite the typical anarchist —

to join this discussion. I know many more people are out there, many

more stories, and I hope we can start sharing them.

Anarchy is the radical approach to life of not simply living a fair

equal and free life for yourself, but making the connection and working

for the liberation and equality of everyone. It is anti-authoritarian;

it is non-coercive; it is based on the principles of active involvement,

of direct action, of a radical faith in diversity. Now this doesn’t

imply that the struggles of all communities are equal. Therefore, it is

imperative to recognize, within ourselves individually and within our

individual cultures, the points of privilege we may have access to and

benefit from. It is crucial in anarchist thinking to understand the

workings of white privilege, male privilege, heterosexual privilege and

so on, and to work to destroy these forces. And one of the first things

to realize is that the state in all its aberrations must go. We need to

radically imagine new ways to relate to each other within communities of

our devising — until then, police will always be an abusive presence of

control and white privilege, behavior will only be tolerated that works

to reinforce the status quo.

I am tired of anarchist thinking that only serves intellectual exercises

and academic notions of social discourse and I fear generally white male

punk violent angst against private property that serves only the

transitory pleasure of the actor while serving to marginalize poor

communities and heighten the repression of difference by condoned state

terrorists — the cops. I also am tired of isolated individual anarchist

practices that serve only the development and liberation of the

individual who has access to and time for these pursuits such as

veganism, voluntary simplicity and conscious social marginalization.

There is another way.

People of color and the anarchist tradition are now set to revitalize

that. I came to anarchy through sex and Seattle; and now that I’m here,

now that I’ve plundered my way through the ‘classical or canonical’

texts (how ironic that so many fight for these labels as if this

provides some authority to these anti-authoritarian texts), I’ve come to

fuck it up, to shake it down and push it forward into the multicultural,

diverse pedagogically flexible revolutionary philosophy it is. No longer

will I be told that real anarchy is not related to struggles for

national liberation, not about the praxis of living a life defined by

radical honesty and trust, not about coalitions and communication.

For me anarchy must be linked to the individual only in relation to the

communal, whether that community is lovers, or family, or children, or

employers, or neighbors.

I cannot separate my political growth from my personal growth. Nor will

I even try. I knew there must be something out there, something to

validate what my partner and I felt but could not articulate — that true

commitment, true respect and love was not linked to ownership,

possession, fear, and distrust. After years of working hard to ‘make

it,’ to be successful, good, liberal citizens, we looked around and

realized there must be more than what we have been striving so hard

for,. We rejected marriage, but were unable to articulate a

philosophical reason yet, we had kids, but refused to become the

conservative self-centered parents we saw other new mothers and fathers

becoming, we were political in all the condoned ways — liberal Democrat,

wanting taxes to go to public schools and senior centers.

All wasn’t perfect; we each wanted things, but we wanted to be together,

we each had attractions to other s but know it was wrong, we each

understood that after working so hard raising three kids, a few years

away from out thirties, that we had to change something or choose this

path forever. And then came Emma and Andee.

Emma Goldman hit us like a ton of bricks — non-monogamy, freedom to do

and love who you want, to choose to be together rather than to have to

be together. The essays spoke deeply to our own unspoken philosophy.

Let me tell you a story:

At 20, I hitchhiked from Las Vegas, New Mexico down the highway to see

my father face to face. To try to find some answers. He tells me he

fucked up.

He should be out there with me, working with me, living life with me.

Because, he says, I realized I’m a slave in here. And now I can only

fight against other slaves. Out there, when I realized I was a slave, I

coulda done something, I coulda fought back at least. Somehow. In here,

it’s just fucked up.

My father explained that in jail, pencils are like daggers, you can

write and you can stab. ‘Mira, ‘ he points to his arm, ‘here are the

pencil tips that I cannot get out.’

This is not a metaphor. This is a warning.

Strong Hearts and Poisoned Waters: Exclusion and the Reproductive

Rights Movement in the U.S. by Puck

Abortion is not and has never been only a “white issue.” Although few

people today realize it, women of color have been involved from the very

beginning. Women of color have played and continue to play a crucial

part organizing for and shaping the struggle for reproductive freedom in

the US. Who Gets Abortions?

Currently, Latinas are two times as likely as white women to have an

abortion; black women are three times as likely. Black women obtain 24

percent of abortions in the US. Indeed, polls show that over 80 percent

of African Americans support family planning, yet few are members of the

prominent reproductive rights organizations.

Why? A look into our recent past shows that people of color have valid

reasons to suspect the motives of predominantly white groups advocating

for the single issue of abortion rights.

During the last century, the pro-choice movement, or the family planning

movement, often dismissed or ignored concerns of women of color when

they weren’t problems for white women as well. Devastatingly, the

reproductive rights movement of the past at times allied with

eugenicists and other white supremacists in opportunistic political

coalitions meant to further the abortion rights movement.

Understanding the Past

Being pro-choice or a feminist today means having to acknowledge and

transcend the racist legacy of collaborations between white feminists,

conservatives and eugenicists who shared common ground on parts of the

abortion issue. How we fight for reproductive freedom today must be

informed by the reality that for many women of color, abortion is just

one fight in a larger struggle of class and racial oppression. Unlike

for some white or middle class women, the lack of access to reproductive

freedom that many women of color face has more to do with the

limitations placed upon them by their ethnic and class background than

by the actual legal status of abortion or geographic availability of

abortion clinics.

Early on, the Black community saw reproductive control as being an

essential key to liberation, and they have fought for it since the times

of slavery. Black women have been underground providers of safe and

affordable abortions. Later, African American women organized with other

women of color and brought tens of thousands to participate in rallies

demanding an end to forced sterilizations.

Then and now, many feminists of color challenged white feminists who

framed abortion rights as a woman’s issue that was unconnected to other

social injustices.

As Black feminist and activist, Loretta J. Ross explains:

Many Black women still do not see abortion rights as a stepping stone to

freedom because abortion rights do not automatically end the oppression

of Black women.

Sadly, the vital participation and intellect brought to the reproductive

rights movement by women of color are noticeably absent from many white

feminist accounts of history.

The Privilege of “Choice”

Until recently, mainstream and preeminent pro-choice organizations have

promoted a narrow view of reproductive liberty that focuses on the

“right to choose” abortion. This can come across as sounding trivial and

consumeristic. The language of abortion rights politics can also be

culturally insensitive and alienating to recent immigrants and women who

come from religious backgrounds- even those who support and get

abortions.

Women of color have also been subjected to controlling and coercive

reproductive policies and, as a result, many continue to distrust public

health services and are more apt to view family planning programs with

apprehension.

As Brenda Romney, an African American activist, explained:

“When our children were [white men’s] property, we were encouraged to

have children. When our children are ours, we are not worthy parents.

Those are the messages, the background and the context of health care in

general.

This is some of what Black women bring with them when they seek health

care information or abortion services.”

Therefore, many women of color feel that it is more central to their

needs to demand for economic justice and healthcare- including

reproductive rights- instead of focusing on the aspects of “choice” and

availability regarding abortion and birth control.

An Issue of Survival: Birth Control as Social Control

Abortion was not openly discussed in the Black community because other

survival issues were key.

— Lois Smith, an African American member of the Jane collective (a

collective that provided safe and sliding scale abortions before Roe v.

Wade passed)

Eugenicists promote the idea that essentialist traits such as

intelligence and criminality are biologically determined and can thus be

eliminated or emphasized through the selective breeding or elimination

of “pure” races.

The ideology of eugenics became applied public health policy in the U.S.

during the 1960s and ‘70s. Industrial tycoons like the Rockefeller

family funded it; prestigious universities studied it, and governors

introduced legislation proposing the compulsory sterilization of Native

American, black and poor women in order to “fight the war on poverty.”

In truth, these policies were aimed at decreasing the explosive

political potential of minority populations and pacifying white fears of

social unrest during a time of increasing militancy in the struggle for

civil rights.

During the 1960s, family planning services became accessible for large

numbers of poor women of color through federally subsidized programs

like Medicaid. Although this was seen by most feminists as a victory, on

the flip side, the government also began coercing Native American and

black women on public assistance into getting State-sponsored

hysterectomies by threatening to revoke their welfare benefits if they

refused.

During the 1970s, it is estimated that up to 60,000 Native American

women and some men were sterilized. Indian Health Service had a “captive

clientele,” since Native women often lacked access to services other

than those paternalistic public ones located on reservations. In 1975,

for every seven babies born, one woman was being sterilized. Shockingly,

the IHS sterilization campaign was paid for entirely with federal

funding.

Puerto Rican women were also sterilized at astronomical rates by U.S.

tax dollars. During the same time, several Mexican American women were

sterilized at a County hospital without much explanation or information.

A national fertility study conducted by Princeton University found that

20 percent of all married African-American women had been sterilized by

1970.

Given that experience, it is no surprise that in the communities of

color targeted by government-controlled depopulation programs, birth

control and abortion were equated with genocide for years to come. Many

poor women of color felt that they had been “tracked” toward

sterilization and were outraged at having been denied the opportunity to

have children in numbers of their choosing.

“While birth control was demanded as a right and an option for

privileged women, it became an obligation for the poor,” Ross recalled.

When women of color organized successfully for laws requiring the

“informed consent” of patients undergoing hysterectomies in an effort to

cut down on forced sterilizations, they had to so often without support

from mainstream white abortion rights groups- who were then too obsessed

with their own narrow self-interest to see the broader feminist struggle

at hand.

No Substitute for Social Justice

Access to abortion and birth control do not exist free of social values.

White people of all political motivations have supported abortion when

it suited their interests and set the stage for years of racial tension

and mistrust in the arena of reproductive rights policy. Today, eugenic

ideas like “overpopulation” and biological determinism continue to

influence public health and social policies that blame poverty, crime

and pollution on the rising population growth of brown and black people-

ignoring the root causes of social ills: unequal distribution of

resources in a society deeply segregated by white supremacy.

A recent example of this phenomenon was the Norplant controversy during

the 1990s. Norplant is unusual because it is a contraceptive that is 99

percent effective and can last up to 5 years after its initial

administration.

However, it requires the insertion of six matchstick-sized capsules

under the skin of a woman’s forearm. Although Norplant is expensive and

can cause negative side effects including depression and irregular,

heavy bleeding, public subsidies covered the costs for many poor women

of color.

Politicians framed the initial cost as an expenditure that could save

millions of dollars nationally in the welfare costs it would take to

raise the children of “irresponsible women.”

Several states wanted to require mothers on welfare to use it as a

condi- tion of receiving their benefits. Debates ensued in the national

media: “Can Norplant Reduce the Underclass?”

Commonly, women who suffered negative side effects and asked for their

Norplants to be removed were denied and had to endure paternalistic,

bureaucratic and controlling service providers.

Hope Prevails

During the 1980s, feminists of color clamored louder than ever to be

heard.

Women of color gained in numbers as well as prominence within mainstream

pro-choice organizations, and some assumed leadership positions.

Reproductive rights groups put more energy into reaching out to people

of color. Health activists of color broke through the “conspiracy of

silence” surrounding abortion in their communities, framing reproductive

rights as a human rights and healthcare issue. The first “March for

Women’s Lives” was organized in 1986. Ross, who worked with the National

Organization for Women (NOW), was employed to find organizations of

women of color to endorse this first national march dedicated to

abortion rights. She reflects on the changes in the years since:

In 1986 Black women were skeptical about joining a march for abortion

rights sponsored by what was per- ceived as a white woman’s

organization. Although all the leaders of the Black women’s

organizations I contacted privately supported abortion rights, many

perceived the issue as marginal, too controversial, or to ‘white.’

By 1987 NOW was responding more clearly to the voices of women of color.

By 1986, the annual march was endorsed by 107 organizations of women of

color, and by 1989, “more than 2,000 women came together to form the

largest delegation ever [at the time] of women of color to support

abortion rights.

Women of color were responsible for expanding the focus of the abortion

rights movement. Their influence can be found in the shifting language

used by mainstream groups — from one centered around abortion to one

emphasizing reproductive rights. The work women of color had been doing

all along in their communities to support reproductive freedom slowly

began to be recognized and at times supported by mainstream feminist

groups. Most importantly though, women healthcare activists of color

continued to push for more and more justice- for more social justice in

the pro-choice movement and more feminism in their communities.

Here in the year 2004, at the eighth March for Women’s lives, let’s

reflect on the mistakes of the past and the injustices of the present.

We still have a long way to go. Let us constantly strive to bring about

more instances for increasing numbers of people to experience

self-determination, true democracy and justice in their lives. We must

not let our vision of liberation be obscured by political compromises

that promise only a few of us legitimacy and victory. We must all be

free simultaneously, or none of us can truly be free.

A Critique of Gangsta Culture by Suneel Mubayi

I see it all around me in my neighborhood — the people who I claim to be

fighting for; the people whose oppression fuels part of me; the people

whose rights I want increased. The young people I want to join in

struggling with, to ally. But wait, there’s something wrong. I don’t see

them struggling; I see them conforming. They have no meaning or idea of

what oppression is, even though they’re enacting it and internalizing it

in public.

Every time I walk past them, they’re loitering on the streets, on street

corners, on the bumpers of cars, in clusters, like gangs. They look at

me with my pale skin, smooth, silky dark hair, colorful clothing and

piercings and give me long stares. They hoot and catcall at me.

Sissy-ass white/ honky fag wanderin’ in the wrong ‘hood. They have no

notion or idea of “the struggle” or “the movement.” For them, politics

means who’s the best gangsta on the block; who’s got the coolest clothes

and chains; the most money and pussy.

A few weeks back, I walked into this Russian-run jewelry/piercing place

on Broadway and 145^(th) to get a third piercing on my ears. The guys

who run the place, two slightly built, pale Russians, have already

exoticized me in my previous visits by directly associating me to the

Kama Sutra and wanting to know whether I have a copy, only because I say

I’m from India, even though according to them I don’t look it. Once you

say you’re from somewhere else, that’s all that matters. These guys

basically make a living by pawning and selling jewelry to the aspiring

young would-be gangstas of the neighborhood, apparently ripping most of

them off and cheating in the process. Their mannerisms are very

deliberate, exaggerated, and put-on, from the constant use of “my

brother” to the gangsta embrace and the hand on the heart. Of course,

they deal with even their most trusted customers through bulletproof

glass and an entrance door that must be buzzed to open. So anyway, as I

was getting my piercings done, which were $10, there were other

customers negotiating the price of gaudy gold chains in thousands of

dollars, in a community where I wonder who can genuinely afford that. In

walk in a group of young teenagers, mixed sexes, but definitely in their

younger teens. They all crowd around a showcase to my left that has more

gold chains displayed and one of them starts exclaiming, “Oh, man!

That’s gangsta! That’s gangsta!” So few words, yet revealing so much.

Obviously, they’ve learned from somewhere or someone at a very young

age, that being a gangsta is something to look up to, aspire and revere.

I wanted to scream at them, shake them and tell them how they were

perpetuating their own oppression and how the establishment wants them

to be gangstas precisely so that it can lock them up in jail for the

rest of their adult lives. But something stopped me; something said,

they’ll have no idea what you’re talking about, they’ll laugh at you;

look at how they’re already giving you weird looks with your long hair,

multicolored clothes and multiple piercings. All these feelings and

signals leave me heartbroken and not knowing what to do to help the

people I claim to be fighting for.

Please. This is not some pissed-off white liberal guilt. Neither is this

an attempt to say that minority folks, particularly Blacks and Latinos,

have themselves to blame for the oppression they suffer. This is not

some grandiose attempt to generalize and categorize every youth in

Harlem. These are just observations I make, walking to and from home,

every day.

Even though I’ve been living here for more than a year, I hardly know

anyone even in my own building, other than polite greetings. But when

I’m walking around outside, or doing stuff within the building like

laundry, even if I don’t interact, I’m always observing. My eyes and

ears are always perked. I guess little pitchers have big ears, right?)

The youth I describe, again, do not represent a gross generalization

that the reader might think I’m attempting to make. What they do

represent is the visible face of the youth of their community, what an

“outsider,” who’s not “in” or “down” with them might see as (s)he walks

or drives through the neighborhood. The fact that they do represent the

visible face is something very important, especially for all the youth

of the community who aren’t so visible.

They portray variations of what is commonly known in American popular

culture as the gangsta mentality. If they do not seem to quite succeed

at it, they certainly do not have any lack of aspiration or enthusiasm

to become gangstas. Here is the point that must be made — their

visibility has everything to do with their aspirations to gangstahood.

These youth are visible and become the de facto representatives of young

Harlem because American popular culture, the mass media, and the

establishment have made the gangsta identity. They have created it,

seizing on certain alternative politico-cultural trends in the

African/Latin-American communities and forging this identity of the

gangsta, simultaneously elevating it on a very high pedestal, one that

is near impossible to reach for the youth it calls to. They have then

made it acceptable for this identity to be portrayed in their own

channels as being representative of all minority urban youth. So one

channel is spewing lyrics and images glorifying murder, rape, drug

dealing, looting and lavish wealth as somehow being the only path to

success for these youth; another channel is simultaneously reporting how

“gangsta rap” is encouraging violent and delinquent behavior amongst

these very same youth, and the apparently pressing need to “crack down”

and “get tough” with these kids. It wouldn’t be uncommon for these

channels to have common owners, stockholders, financiers, backers and

investors. But what is the effect it is having on these kids? On one

hand, they are constantly told that the only way they can be successful

in life is to become a gangsta or a gangsta’s bitch; on the other hand,

as they become more and more deeply immersed into this culture, the very

same establishment starts enforcing draconian laws and regulations on

them, and criminalizes them without ever trying to show them that one

can be successful and happy in life without being either a gangsta or

Colin Powell. The cops and the judges will listen to our whining and

tell us they don’t criminalize the kids; they are already criminals and

need to be dealt with before they get out of hand. The news producers,

MTV execs, rap artists and record producers, etc will tell us they’re

just doing whatever makes the most money for them for the longest time.

The result is that the kids who are perpetually loitering outside are

objects or pawns being kicked around in a power game, seen as criminals

in the eyes of the rest of the world. One never sees any cops stopping

and telling these kids to go buy a book, or guide them toward more

meaningful social interactions, or just talk to them. One neither sees

any cops ordering them to disperse immediately, even though there are

“No Loitering” signs in bold around most buildings. This isn’t a

coincidence. They are allowed to loiter perpetually and hang around, so

that they can self-affirm their identity as gangstas to the cops, who

will then trawl the streets in their police cars and go around “busting”

random people, subjecting them to humiliating searches and arrests in

public on mere suspicion of behavior or activity associated with the

gangsta mentality. The same cops will then go home and find their kids

being drawn to the same thing.

And what about the faceless masses, those youth who refuse to accept

this manufactured criminalization that looks so cool, who refuse to

conform? We must remember that there’s no black and white, no two

distinct groups here necessarily, but shades. There could be kids in the

gangs who long not to be there, who long to be productive, creative, and

successful, but are just afraid of the backlash by the cool ones for

daring to be different. There could be kids forcibly kept at home by

paranoid, scared parents who don’t want to see them spend the rest of

their lives in jail under racist Rockefeller drug laws, who are

nevertheless blinded by the gangsta illusion. And then, somewhere, are

my crowd — the friends I’ve never met, but whom I talk to all the time.

I hope my Black and Latino friends and comrades, especially those in

Harlem, will read this and try to understand my perspective. I hope they

will understand that I’m not being racist here and not at all attempting

to stigmatize. I am trying to find reasons for the perceived image of

young people of their communities in popular culture as being

unreformable delinquents and criminals; why that path looks so seemingly

attractive and how it has so much to do with what the media and the

establishment creates; what it says is OK and what it says isn’t; how it

can say both about one thing simultaneously for its advantage and to

oppress. I hope these comrades will give me their feedback and point out

any places I’m incorrect or going wrong. I will be the happiest of all

if my analyses based on my own perceptions are proved to be

categorically wrong and incorrect.

If they are, it shows the media and the pigs haven’t got to absolutely

everybody. If they aren’t wrong, then I’m afraid that we as far left

radical people of color, have a hell of a lot of work to do, and as our

respected Anarchist Panther comrade says, a lot of painful growing,

learning and changing ahead as well.

Journal Entry

I what? You what? Feeling lonely? Trying hard to find polemical analysis

to figure out why you’re feeling lonely in a suite with 9 other people?

The closer you are to them, the more isolated you feel?! How does that

make sense? Me, the seasoned New Yorker with all the older friends, the

older ladies, suddenly on campus and with her (I will stubbornly use the

pronoun of my choice) age group — feels lonely. Feels jealous as she

sees clumps of excited, giggling happy teenagers walking, no bouncing,

past her. It acutely touches on that nerve that has always been so

sensitive inside you, babe, that nerve that holds companionship and

abandonment and friendship and partnership. You know inside you that

you’re years more mature than them, that you made not just a fist of it

alone in Harlem for a year, but a stable home.

Are the most brilliant of us destined to be alone? Why does everyone

seem to have bosom buddies already that they’re hanging out with all the

time? It touches on all those memories that can never be erased, the

memories of abuse before awakening, through suffering, when as a

frightened little girl inside a boy’s body who understood things too

well for her own good, you looked around you and everyone seemed to be

coping, everyone seemed to be stable and connected to each other except

you.

You established yourself in a world outside of this gated campus when

this gated campus seemed to big and complicated a world for you. And you

never knew then that in a year, you would be a blooming, beautiful

flower of a boy-girl becoming man-woman in the infinitely bigger world

of the whole city. You’ve combated racism both inside and outside of

you, expunged the colonialism and casteism from within, and not so

politely alerted the rest of the world of much of the same present in

it. You found out about Orientalism and Eurocentrism and dealt with

those, no sweat. Those are serious characteristics in one’s mindset to

deal with, babe, and you did it with no problems.

You learned the hard way how to deal with problems that manifest

themselves in the form of people. From the racists to the establishment

pigs, to the infatuations to people who needed to be avoided but tempted

you so much. The people who hurt you when they wanted to nourish you;

the people who broke your heart and nearly broke your spirit. But

nothing broke you. You realized that there is no heteronormative idea of

a woman — that you were the woman who broke that notion that occupied

your mind — you made yourself the woman who can be smooth and sensitive

and soft, and at the same time, tough as nails and durable through the

roughest weather. You broke the barriers that heteronormativity had set

up between male and female, masculine and feminine, and showed by your

own example that there could be the woman who could fight for herself

without losing any of her femininity.

Now suddenly, you feel small, young, and fragile again. The thought of

classes tomorrow and a schedule scares you and makes you feel weak, when

the racist pigs of the NYPD couldn’t do that after even having you

cornered and alone. It’s just the memories, babe, it’s just the memories

of when you were young. In recalling, you regress into the past, leave

the present and that’s why you start feeling crumbly again, because the

little boy-girl lives in you only as a memory, not as a current and

tangible reality.

That makes it a little more scary and harder to grasp, but it being a

memory as opposed to an existing identity makes you safe from

vulnerabilities, but you are not that person anymore, so that little

child will not think for you, and its weaknesses will never affect you.

Definitely, you will get upset when you think of how much you suffered

as him/her, and the memories will be vivid and frightening like

nightmares, but you will never be her ever again. Sometime, when I feel

like it, when I feel ready, I will write in detail and specifics about

my suffering. The incidents, from the earliest to the latest to the

ongoing; the abusers and predators (with special mention to brainless

children in all the schools I was put in and the bitch who appointed

herself as my mother/colonizer); the mistakes I made; and all the trauma

I went through. It’s too much right now — the thought of delving so deep

into the filthy muck makes me shake and unable to type.

People tell me come on, Suneel, everyone’s suffered, everyone’s been

hurt, and so, and therefore, there’s nothing special about your pain and

your pain. Wrong. There are people out there who’d have suffered less

than me, more than me, or as much, in similar ways or different. But the

fact that I choose to express them, the fact that I have the ability to

write about them like this, analyze them, and not just stuff them under

my exterior until I explode and injure everyone around me, like I see

most others do, is special. And if others choose to do so as well, then

that’s special too.

Don’t believe what the capitalists and the pigs and the wolves tell you.

There is room enough on this earth for all of us to be happy,

successful, well off, and well known. Because if we all know each other,

and understand each other, we’ll all be famous and we’ll all feel we’re

getting enough attention from each other. And there is no such thing as

the human face of socialism, because socialism is all human, all one

hundred percent of it, and anyone who thinks otherwise and still calls

themselves a socialist are only living a more contrived and subtle

version of machismo and militarism.

I didn’t mean for this to touch so much on my sexuality, and my sexual

awakening, but it is so present in everything I think and do, from my

daily existence to my radicalism and sociopolitical thought to the way I

relate with friends and with lovers too.

I’ve endured the taunts and the doubts. My dad telling me that feeling

like I’m a woman inside is just another source of confusion, and that

I’d do better with less confusion in my life. Wrong, dad. I’d do worse

if I tried to be something I know I wouldn’t be happy being. The worst

combination of my grandmother and my stepmother telling me that with my

current identity, straight girls would be turned off because they want

men, gay men likewise, and lesbians too because they want women who have

women’s bodies (I might still have one yet!), and that I’m sexually

frustrated! Turns out she doesn’t know all the girls out there. My

womanhood endures.

Often I’m plagued by self-doubt — am I doing this just to attract

attention? Am I taking being a stage-whore too far off the stage? I

answered it myself when I expressed these doubts to my friend Erica

(thank god for her) and she asked me the most fundamental question of

all: what does being a woman mean to you? I thought for a few moments

and answered: being a woman means simply that. Being a woman. It’s a

feeling, a sense that’s hard to express in words, because to me, being a

woman means having an identity that is feminine, but without any

preconceived notions, ideas, or mindsets about what a woman is or what a

woman should be. In any sense, be it in terms of looks, actions, habits,

social roles, or anything else. Everybody feels like there is some kind

of ‘ideal’ man and an ‘ideal’ woman too. Well I reject that. I am a

woman with no conditions and no strings attached. And no presumptions

too. You may find me rather androgynous, deviant, and genderbending. I

like to dress up, be pierced, and be ‘effeminate’ or ‘girly.’ But those

are just tastes and habits, like preferring cookies ‘n cream above

butter pecan and not to be confused with my sexual identity and

preferences. Yes, I am all those things, or rather, I possess all those

qualities. But I claim the right to choose my ultimate sexual identity

beyond my traits, looks, qualities and features, even if it is different

from the sexual organs I possess. And whether that’s feminine or

hermaphrodite or my desired blend of masculine and feminine is my

choice. You can love it, be OK with it, be uncomfortable with it, be

revolted by it, or leave it. But it’s my choice. Being a woman means

being a woman.

So just ride through the fear and the sense of isolation, babe. You’ve

settled in a world much bigger than this. And nobody says you have to

settle here. Just like dad (thank god for him too) said, you’re not here

to socialize, you’re here for an education. And those who party nonstop

and think they’re being really bad/causing lots of trouble don’t know

that they’re playing the exact moronic role that the system wants them

to. You and your friends know what causing real trouble means. And you

know it’s a good thing, something to be proud of, feel noble and just

about. Look beyond the social butterflies and the people who pretend so

much that they’re just pretenses of themselves. You’re about to grasp

knowledge, analysis, understanding, and ability. And with it will come

your destiny, and the revolution.

Free the Land: Social Justice and the Environmental Movement by

Ewuare Osayande

The following is the edited transcript of the keynote address given at

The Climate Control Conference, February 21, 2004, Harvard University,

Cambridge, MA.

Since we are dealing with the question of environmentalism I thought it

might be appropriate to introduce my sharing with you by quoting from

the most celebrated scientist of the previous century, being that

environmental- ism relies heavily on science. The person being Albert

Einstein who himself was not just concerned with theories of relativity

but was a committed socialist and used his popularity and influence to

speak out against oppression. He says, “A human being is a part of the

whole, called by us — universe. A part limited in time and space where

we experience ourselves, our thoughts and feelings as something

separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of our

consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us restricting us

to our personal desires into affection for a few persons nearest to us.

Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our

circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures in the whole of

nature in its beauty.”

The struggle on the part of the environmental movement is the struggle

to free itself from that delusion that separates itself from the rest of

the struggles against oppression on the planet, as well as the rest of

the planet itself. This optical delusion, this way of viewing the world

through rather white, western and elitist eyes 
 this is more than a

call for inclusion. It is a call for making the movement contextually

aligned with the ideology and the ideologies of oppressed peoples’

struggles for liberation.

There is a profound reluctance on the part of activists in the

environmental movement to embrace a social justice platform that is

accountable to the lived reality of people of color worldwide who live

in poverty and under oppression due to the legacy of European

colonialism and American imperialism.

According to the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine and the

World Health Organization, Global warming is already responsible for the

deaths of some 160,00 persons a year already. The study concluded that

children in developing countries are the most vulnerable to the impact

of global warming. So here at the outset of our conversation I want to

make it clear that we are already dealing with a circumstance that the

environmen- tal movement is prepared to address if it would only heed

the call.

Malaria, diarrhea, malnutrition, from droughts and floods are all the

result of climate change brought on by the industrialized efforts of the

West. Robert Watson, former chairperson of the United Nations

Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change has stated, “Almost any change

in climate will reduce agricultural productivity in the tropics and the

sub-tropics. Climate change is a developmental issue, not an

environmental one.”

In other words he is saying that, given the way in which global warming

impacts the planet, the areas of the world that get impacted the most

and experience the greatest chaos, crises and disaster as a result are

those areas are all too often underdeveloped. We are not talking about

Europe. We are not talking North America, Canada, Russia even. We are

talking about the tropics and sub-tropics, Africa, Southeast Asia, Latin

America. Nations that are under-developed and thus don’t have the

infrastructure to respond to the threat of global warming. And so

disease is rampant.

Malnutrition, diarrhea, all of these issues that in developed nations

all you got to do is go to the hospital and get a pill.

For this reason social justice cannot be an afterthought for

environmentalists. For in truth it lies at the very heart of the

movement itself, of the struggle to save the planet. Save the planet

from what? Save the planet from whom? From what? The answer could be

from global warming, from the effects of what occurs in what is called

the greenhouse effect. From whom? From multinational corporations who

pollute our air and govern- ments that allow these corpses to get away

without restrictions in most cases particularly when they set up shop in

communities of color.

The question becomes and the question that lies at the heart of the

environmental movement is how did this occur? How did multinational

corporations gain access to the lands and lives of so-called Third World

peoples over the globe? This is a question of colonialism. This is a

question of the history of conquest on the part of Europe. Those people

are still oppressed. They still suffer the legacy of colonialism and

national oppression.

But here is the problem. See we can talk about theory and ideology but

when the rubber meets the road, when we really get down to it — the very

corporations who are involved in some of this mess fund many of our

organizations in the environmental movement.

So the question becomes if you are really about doing the real work then

you may in fact end up sacrificing a large part of your funding. I’ve

had conversations with a number of activists over the years. I have been

involved in this struggle for some decades now, and over the years we

activists understand and appreciate that if you are going to deal with

truth, if you are going to deal with the root causes of oppression and

suffering then you are going to need to find alternative sources to fund

your work.

And history speaks to this. I will share how. Earlier I spoke about

Robert Watson, who was the former chairperson of the UN

Intergovernmental Group on Climate Control. He was removed from his post

by an alliance between Exxon, Mobil and the US government because of his

outspokenness, because of his willingness to place the issue on

development. He was ousted because he went on record stating that the

people experiencing the heaviest impact on global warming are poor and

oppressed.

The question for the environmental movement is: Are we going to try to

cooperate with corporations? Or are we really going to begin to try to

challenge the corporate structure in a way that truly redresses the

problem toward the benefit of the majority of people who suffer, not

just those of us who live in the most privileged generation in the

history of the planet.

The corporate response is often to kill the messenger. For activists of

color all over the globe the term kill here is not meant as a metaphor.

That is actually what happens. The threat of death and the terrorism

witnessed and visited upon communities of color that seek to respond to

the reality of corporations coming into their communities, setting up

plants, polluting the air, the soil is real.

I want to share two examples of this. Just for the sake of time we just

got to deal with two. There are plenty more. Many people are aware of

the activist Ken Saro-Wiwa of the Ogoni people in Nigeria and how he was

executed in ’95 for representing the interests of his people. Many folk

are aware of the activist Chico Mendez from Brazil who was also killed.

Both killed by corporations. Both killed with the backing of their

respective governments. Both killed with the funded support of the US

government.

There is a connection here that we as activists can’t get around. Their

lives become the litmus test. I am not saying that we have to put

ourselves in front of bullets or put ourselves in the hangman’s noose.

But at the same time what about their lives becomes instructive for how

we ought to be engaging this work?

The sad thing is and this is my personal criticism. It ought not take

somebody’s death to cause that community’s struggle to gain access to

the media. It shouldn’t take someone having to be imprisoned for years

before activists in the West catch wind of the worry and begin to talk

it up.

That’s a problem again of the lack of network, the lack of an

international outlook on the part of activists in the West who are the

ones with the most access, no doubt, no question. When you listen to

their stories, when you read their writings, you’ll understand that for

people of color throughout the world, those in so-called third world

countries, particularly, the environmental struggle is not simply about

saving trees. It’s about saving people. It’s about freeing the land.

It’s about liberating the land. There is an acute awareness on the part

of activists throughout the globe outside of privileged nations that our

land has been robbed from us. That is why the pollution is occurring. We

lack control over the very land we live on. And understanding that,

walking with that analysis, we realize that we will never change the

condition of our environment until we are able to liberate the land,

until we are able to get these corporations off our land.

That is why in the case of the Ogoni in Nigeria they tied their struggle

against Shell with their struggle to political rights. It was not simply

about getting Shell out of Nigeria. It was also coupled with the

struggle to gain parody politically within the structure. But those of

us here in the West who take what we believe is democracy for granted,

we don’t understand and appreciate that.

In Brazil the struggle was about gaining land rights. These were small

time farmers. These were people who lived in the forest. They had no

contact to the world per se. They were comfortable with that. They were

fine. Along comes some cattle herders and they wanted to tear down all

the trees so they can make land into pasture so their cattle can eat. So

Americans can buy beef.

I read a study just recently that said that the fact that people buy

beef has had a greater impact on global warming than humans themselves,

than human consumption itself. Meaning that cattle eat more than we do

and their waste contributes more to global warming that ours does. And

they are being fed so we can feed on them. Because of our consuming

drive there are whole populations of people in South America who are

being removed from their land. And are being killed if they refuse to

get off.

We got to make the necessary connections. It is not enough to call for a

boycott of Shell. It is not enough to stop eating meat. When their

blood, Ken and Chico’s blood comes all the way back to the White House.

We can talk about the corrupt Nigerian government.

We can talk about the corruption in the Nigerian government. But who

made the corruption in the first place? What does US foreign policy have

to do with any of this? Plenty. And so our struggle as environmentalists

here has to be about charging the government responsible for the crimes

and atrocities that occur all over the globe wherever American interests

are present. And we have to support the indigenous people’s struggle to

liberate their land.

Malcolm X, who was assassinated this night back in ’65 himself gave a

number of addresses here at Harvard, stated in his speech, “Message to

the Grassroots,” that, “Revolution is based on land. Land is the basis

of all independence. Land is the basis of freedom, justice and

equality.” The environmental state of the Ogoni people, the

environmental state of the Mapia people from whom Chico Mendez’s folk

come from in Brazil will not fundamentally change until they receive

justice. And that justice cannot occur ultimately until they are able to

liberate their land. We have to understand this. We have to understand

that there is a relationship between Bush’s war in Iraq, Bush’s

so-called axis of evil when the evil starts here at home.

See what many fail to understand is that if you don’t have money you

have little to no defense in our times. And that can be made in a very

general way even in terms of what I am talking about here about

oppressed peoples across the globe. If you are poor you have no defense.

And the sooner that we who are more privileged begin to understand or

appreciate that fact and create a movement in alliance with that reality

to remedy the same, the sooner we will begin to see true progress. Until

that occurs we’re in trouble.

This next quote I am going to share with you is from Ken Saro-Wiwa. He

is talking about Shell and its relationship to what’s going on in

Nigeria. He said, “Shell has waged ecological war in Ogoni since 1958.

And ecological war is highly lethal, the more so as it is

unconventional. It is homicidal in its effect. Human life, flora, fauna,

the air fall at its feet and finally — the land itself dies. Generally

it is supported by all the traditional instruments ancillary to warfare

— propaganda, money and deceit. Victory is assessed by profits. And in

this sense Shell’s victory in Ogoni has been total.”

Over the 39 years of exploitation at the hands of Shell some 30 billion

dollars in profit Shell has accrued in the Ogoni region alone, which is

only 3% of the total oil production in Nigeria. That’s a billion dollars

essentially a year since Shell has been in Nigeria. Yet, in spite of all

this production and profit, the condition of the Ogoni people remains

ridiculously sad. No running water. No electricity. Yet the corporation

can come in and make that much money and not have any obligation to the

people whatsoever.

Shell’s profit motive is largely responsible for the repression of

Nigeria’s democracy. It is that factor that leads to the corruption of

the government and the denial of democratic rights. See, here is a clue.

We don’t need to look overseas. We don’t need to go over or across our

borders to see the corruption cause it is happening right here. In

America those who are the poorest and not white, it is in their

communities that corporations set up their toxic waste dumps and

pollution centers that produce major respiratory problems for the poor

and of color in our own country. The term environmental racism coined in

1982 grew out of the learning that the most significant factor in the

siting of hazardous waste facilities nationwide was race. Ask yourself

where do the corporations in this community dump their trash? Where does

Harvard dump its trash?

Just as in the case of the Ogoni people, the Mapia people and other

oppressed peoples, majority Black cities like Camden in New Jersey and

St. Louis, Missouri and others, have been robbed of their political

rights due to state takeovers. The argument made by state governments

used to justify this anti-democratic, in fact fascist act, is that the

political structure in those cities have been corrupted. No one bothers

to ask how those structures got corrupted.

The same stuff going on in Nigeria is going on here. So people get

denied political rights because corporations have corrupted the

politicians. And then you get other corrupt politicians coming in saying

we are going to take over. Why? Not so that democracy can be

reestablished but so that more corporations can come in and set up shop.

That’s what is going on right now in Camden. It is what is going on in

St. Louis and other places throughout the country where the majority

populations are Black and Latino and poor.

The struggle is about the land. The struggle is about the political

struggle and rights, self-determination of oppressed peoples. Whoever

owns the land determines the quality of the air, thus the quality of

life. According to a recent study done forty of the world’s poorest

countries face losses of more than a quarter of their food production as

a result of global warming by the year 2080. Those forty nations are

home to 2 billion people on the planet. That is about one third of the

world’s population. The future is now!

Here is another example. I just happened to hear this on NPR one night

about the Inuit of Alaska and how they found large quantities of DDT in

the breast milk of the women. Now most folk would ask the question, “how

did they get that stuff there?” The scientists were dumbfounded. They

would think that these folk farthest removed from the sprayers that go

over crops would be the last people to be at risk. But it is due to the

wind patterns. They had higher quantities of DDT than Canadian women

because of the wind patterns and the climate in that region around the

North Pole.

So people who don’t even have a hand in the exploitation suffer as a

result of our desire to live comfortably. Something is wrong. Something

is wrong I tell you. There is a growing divide between rich and poor

nations, between the industrialized and the underdeveloped nations,

between the West and the rest. The question for the environmental

movement is: What side are you on? You must become radical. You must

radicalize your movement to place it in alliance with those who suffer

the most. They’re not looking for a handout. These aren’t people who are

ignorant of the issues. These are folk who are very aware, who live in

the reality you’ve researched.

The environmental movement at its most authentic state is an anti-

imperialistic movement, is an anti-racist movement. So if you as an

environmentalist are not demonstratively resisting and fighting

imperialism, if you as an environmentalist are not demonstratively

resisting and fighting racism then I question their commitment to

environmentalism.

I am going to leave this on your head and hearts. I have worked with a

number of groups represented here and others. And the issue always comes

up and hopefully may come up during the Q and A about diversifying

membership. Many predominantly white organizations want to make

themselves more aware of the issues and concerns of people of color, to

make your organizations more friendly and cooperative, but are

experiencing trouble. It doesn’t seem to work. Your initiatives aren’t

making progress. I challenge you to study, to reconsider your ideology,

the way in which you go about movement, the way in which you go about

struggle, how you develop propaganda, the kind of language style and

usage that you use.

Because I am telling you and I am telling you the truth. There are

people of color who are prepared. There are people of color who are

already engaged in this very work. They may not consider themselves

environmentalists.

They consider themselves mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, living

in urban wastelands, concerned about the lived reality of their people.

They don’t need a title. They don’t need an organization. They are doing

the best with what they got which ain’t much. I challenge you to

reimagine your movement not in leadership but as following the direction

of these activists of color who exist on the frontlines of the movement

itself.

The problem is that all too often is that white activists tend to

believe that they know best, tend to believe that you all know better

how to engage struggle than people actually living it themselves.

The number one thing, then I am going to bring it to a close. The number

one thing you can do for the environment this year is to beat Bush. I am

not aware of how many people here are a part of the Green Party, or

whatever your politics are, whether you are Republican, Democratic,

Independent or Libertarian or whatever. But I am thankful that Nader

decided not to run for president this year. [Within a few days of this

address, Nader would announce that he was again going to campaign for

the presidency; this time as an independent — go figure!] Not just

because we have a better chance of getting Bush out of office cause that

vote now will hopefully go to the Democrat to make sure that happens.

But it is also because there is a greater issue here. And it’s an issue

that is going to stay with the Left or the movement, if you will, until

we remedy it. And that is this: When Nader ran in 2000, there was a

split between the progressive vote that partly enabled the fiasco that

led to Bush being appointed the president. My point is that had there

been some kind of coalition among progressives that cut across race and

class lines we might have been able to avoid that. The problem with the

Green party is no different than the problem with the environmental

movement and other majority white movements in this country. That it is

bogged down by a racism that even the most enlightened, the most

concerned still have trouble addressing. Given that, we all lose out.

We have to begin to enter into dialogue as different organizations, as

different communities, as people just concerned about the future of not

just our country but the world. We have to do that with the same amount

of fortitude and passion that we engage our particular issues. That is

our only solution. Me personally, I believe that we need to radicalize

the Democratic Party. No, I do not suffer from the delusion that we will

be able to wrestle it from the clutches of the corporate structure. But

if we were able to develop a progressive radical wing that is vocal,

that is clear on the issues, that knows how to use the media to our

advantage, then we’re better able to capture the imagination of the

American people. And that could be the starting point for the

development of a third political party that truly represents the

misrepresented and those of us that are not represented at all in

government. The Green Party is not that kind of party. The propaganda

machine of the Republican Party is well money and very sophisticated but

it is not undefeatable.

So I’ll close up with this little thought. You know, the people

responsible for why global warming is such a problem is the rich. Not

just because they own the corporations that pump pollution and toxins

into the air, but also because they eat the most and thus have the most

gas. All those bad emissions in the air aren’t just coming from the

smokestacks but from the asses of the upper classes.

Sheep Dreams and Kitten Memes by Shawn McDougal

My goal in writing this is to help expand the movement for human

liberation which many of us understand ourselves to be a part of. First

I’ll explain a bit about the vision that drives me in my social change

work. Next, I will offer one key practical idea for movement-building. I

will follow the idea with a concrete example of how I and some comrades

have put the idea into practice. Then, I will share some key concepts

useful not only for explaining the practical idea, but also for

developing and evaluating virtually any tactical plan for mass

liberation that movement-builders might consider.

The ideas I present here are not new. I am a synthesizer; I like to take

disparate ideas and fashion them into a synthesis that is my own. Feel

free to take the pieces you desire and synthesize them in a way that

makes sense for you.

The title of this piece was inspired partially by a leaflet I created a

couple of years ago called “Mobilize like kittens, not sheep,” and

partially by the notion that culture is fundamentally about patterns of

activity that we continually (re)create. But I’m getting ahead of

myself. I hope the title makes sense by the time you finish reading

this.

The Vision

What is my vision?

A world where everyone understands that they are creators of social

reality, rather than spectators... a world where everyone feels worthy

of the best in life, and no one feels subordinate or less worthy than

anyone else... a world where our interactions bring out the best in us,

rather than the worst... a world where our institutions are nurturing

and life-affirming, rather than domineering and life-negating... a world

where our hopes overcome our fears.

(Note that in describing my vision I do not mention the usual list of

‘isms’ that so many of us rightfully oppose: capitalism, racism,

heterosexism, patriarchy, adultism, elitism, etc. I believe these

dehumanizing social patterns are really symptoms of more fundamental

problems: We are unconscious of our own power, and we are ruled by fear.

To the extent we realize that we do not merely inherit the world but

that we shape it, these destructive and fear-based patterns will be

replaced by creative and hope- based patterns — at every level, and in

every facet of our lives.)

What drives my vision?

Growing up in an underclass Black family in Los Angeles, I experienced

the effects of racism and classism — external and internalized — around

and within me. (I call my family underclass and not working-class, cuz

most of the time nobody had a job — it was mostly welfare and petty

hustles.) Seeing my older brother marginalized for being gay, and seeing

my single mom have to hustle and get money from her boyfriends for us to

survive (‘Can you throw me down some change this month?’), taught me

about heterosexism and patriarchy. Also, seeing people risk jail-time

just so they could have something that looked nice taught me about the

power of conformity and internalized oppression in people’s lives.

Seeing (and much later, experiencing) drug addiction taught me about the

often self- destructive power of escapism.

Success in school shaped me to be a young elitist — the kid who was

gonna make it out of the ghetto. That same success got me a scholarship

to an elite boarding school in New England where I began to see the

levers of elite power close up. I realized that the people in power were

no more deserving than anyone else. Eventually, time spent as an

exchange student in Brazil helped me see the global nature of class

society, patriarchy, white supremacy and the other ‘isms’ I had come to

despise, as well as the crucial role America plays in the global system.

The people I met in Brazil also reminded me of the amazing power of the

human spirit, and our capacity to create connections and joy even under

miserable social conditions. It was in Brazil that I realized that I

could not escape from or ignore the problems of the world, but that I

had to live my life fighting them.

When I was in college I met people who called themselves anarchists. I

saw that we had the same basic attitude on a lot of things — especially

challenging authority and conformity — so I realized that I was an

anarchist, too.

The idea

Let’s do a thought experiment. Two actually. Ready?

First, imagine a mass action in your favorite city. It’s a march/rally.

Five hundred (or 5,000) people gather in a park. You’re there with them.

While people stand around waiting for the action to begin, organizers

circulate around with extra signs, chant sheets and whistles. You all

line up and walk along a route — maybe a mile or two — where city

officials make sure traffic is cleared. Or, maybe you couldn’t get a

permit and you’re walking along the sidewalk. Along the way folk are

chanting, singing, drumming, waving signs, a few even passing out

leaflets to lookers-on. After an hour or two of marching, you reach the

destination point. There is a rally. Great speakers, rousing performers,

old acquaintances, drums and chants. You even spot a reporter or two

from the local media. You and your friends go home, confident that you

did your part for the movement for peace and justice today.

Now, change the channels.

A second mass action. Same city. Five hundred (or 5,000) people gather

in a park. You’re there with them. Organizers circulate around with

handouts on how to approach strangers and talk politics in public and

suggested locations. People share leaflets, surveys, stickers,

street-theater scripts, chalk. You all form teams of 2 to 5 people. The

teams — hundreds (or thousands) of them — fan out to locations all

throughout the city. (Supermarkets, gas stations, post offices, shopping

centers, laundromats, bus stops and movie lines are among the favored

spots.) At these locations the teams talk to people about the issues,

ask questions from a survey, hand out stickers and leaflets to those who

are down with the cause. A few even perform theater or create chalkings

on busy sidewalks. After an hour or two of connecting with people on the

street, you all reconverge for a rally.

Folk share stories about how it felt to engage with the public — the

challenges and the breakthroughs. Great speakers, rousing performers,

old acquaintances, drums and chants. You even spot a reporter or two

from the local media. You and your friends go home, confident that you

did your part for the movement for peace and justice today.

Questions for you to consider before moving on:

between the mass actions?

message out?

takes to build a movement among the people who participate?

Any other differences you think noteworthy?

The second mass action is the practical tool — a tactic — that I

promised to offer in this essay. I call it the kittens action. I choose

this term because of what it evokes. Kittens (cats) are different from

sheep in that, because they are not herd animals, their movements are

not easily controlled or constrained by those who would domesticate

them. If you’ve ever lent an ear to a frustrated meeting facilitator,

school teacher, or soccer mom — or if you’ve ever been one — you will

probably recognize the phrase “It’s like herding kittens!”

The kittens action follows a very simple recipe:

Step 1. Converge.

Step 2. Form teams, share materials for outreach.

Step 3. Spread out.

Step 4. Engage the public.

Step 5. Reconverge.

Step 6. Share stories and celebrate.

The kittens action is similar to what some people call an organizing

blitz, though blitzes usually have organization — specific goals (like

signing up new members), and I’ve never seen this sort of tactic used at

a mass action level involving people and groups with diverse interests.

Also somebody told me once that in Mexico City they did something

similar with teams called brigadas.

The practice

There was a gathering of diverse organizers and activists in December

2003 to discuss community and autonomy in LA. The event was organized by

folk who’d been inspired by their exposure to Zapatismo, such as the

people at Casa del Pueblo. At the end of that meeting one of the

requests was for a way for the diverse people and organizations present

to continue to connect and work together. I suggested putting together a

monthly kittens action, perhaps with a different theme each month, so

that various forces around LA could come together on a more regular

basis and do concrete work together.

Many were in agreement, so some of us organized the first event, called

POP! the Revolution (POP= People Organizing & Partying), to happen in

January. Here is the email announcement we sent out:

Ready to see LA-area activism taken to the next level?

Ready to connect with diverse activists working on various fronts in the

struggle for social justice?

Ready to stop feeling angry and start celebrating and building the

culture of resistance?

Then you are invited to:

P.O.P.! the Revolution Party

People Organizing & Partying

against us — we simply need to activate those already on our side

center

Saturday, January 17^(th), 2004, 2 p.m.

Echo Park Methodist Church

1226 Alvarado, just north of Sunset

Sounds intriguing... In a nutshell, what is it?

Activists from all over LA coming together to join forces for a day of

schmoozing and organizing in the community, to turn traditional protest

into community engagement, and to have fun. A new way to help the LA

left feel more connected.

agenda in brief:

2:00: PREPARE — welcome to the community, intros, brief training, form

street teams

3:00: OUTREACH — street teams fan out to surrounding grocery stores, gas

stations, connect with the public, ask critical questions, share

resources

5:30: PARTY — food, music, open-mic, performance art, share experiences

This is the first of what will become a monthly event, held at different

locations all throughout LA, highlighting our various struggles

If you are interested in teaming up with us, or to help make this and

future events successful, then spread the word, and join our email list!

At that first event about 50 people showed up. Many of the people

present were not regular activists; just progressive folk who were fed

up with feeling powerless and wanted to do something.

After intros we did a training on how to talk to people, on how to

approach strangers to get their attention, on what to expect in terms of

people turning you down or ignoring you, on how to focus your efforts on

people willing to dialogue and not waste time debating people who wanna

be haters, etc. We gave everyone a list of questions to ask people about

community issues, and a stack of informational leaflets with alternative

media and community resources.

Next, people went out in teams of two to five. Some went to

supermarkets, others to gas stations, and others to bus stops. People

were out for about an hour. (From the agenda we put in the email you can

see we’d planned for a longer time outreaching, but, shockingly, we were

behind schedule.)

When the teams returned we had a debriefing session. The energy was

palpable. Folk talked about how exhilarating it felt to approach total

strangers in the streets and talk politics. Folk talked about some of

the amazing and interesting people they’d met — for example, one guy who

is not a typical ‘activist’ but who organizes his buddies every year to

donate SUV-loads of food to homeless folk on Skid Row. Folk talked about

how most of the people they met were actually pretty open to chatting

and happy to receive info on alternative media. One guy mentioned how he

realized how difficult it was to judge people by the way they look or

dressed — an older guy who he’d assumed would be a Bush-lover was

actually pretty critical of the war and complained about all the tax

breaks going to the rich. One woman said how now she feels more

confident, so that next time she’s in line at a grocery store she’ll be

less afraid to talk to people in line next to her.

We did another POP! the Revolution event the following month, with

similar experiences reported by a new set of participants. One complaint

was that our leaflets didn’t have enough info on local resources to help

people in need of specific help: How to move more from talking to

action?

Although the POP! the Revolution event was more like a workshop than a

mass action, it is essentially a mini-kittens action. With more

participants — hundreds or thousands instead of a few dozen — a mass

kittens action would likely include many forms of outreach to engage the

public, from various sorts of leaflets and surveys to street preaching

to street theater and interactive art. My hope is efforts like POP! will

help popularize the idea of the kittens action, so that more mass action

organizers will think in terms of getting folk they mobilize to be

organizers, outreaching in the community, not just warm bodies to fill

the streets or hold one sign in a sea of signs. Imagine the impact of

5,000 activists spending an hour or two throughout the city having

conversations with 50,000 or 100,000 people!

The theory

One criticism often leveled at anarchists by certain segments of the

left — in particular Marxists — is that we are all tactics and no

theory. I vehemently disagree with this criticism. The reality is that

anarchist practice usually has strong theoretical underpinnings. The

problem comes with articulating those ideas in a way that non-anarchists

can understand.

Before we continue, there is a term that I use that may be unfamiliar to

many readers. It’s that weird term that appears in the title of this

essay: meme. (It rhymes with seem.) It was coined by zoologist Richard

Dawkins in his 1976 book, The Selfish Gene. It was taken from a Greek

root meaning ‘imitate.’ Memes are units of cultural information such as

recipes, ideas, songs, social conventions, fashions, gestures, rituals

and sayings.

Memes are to culture what genes are to biology. Like genes, memes

replicate, mutate, spread and die out. Just as genes powerfully shape

the form and function of biological organisms, memes shape the form and

function of cultures and societies.

In the rest of this section I will give you a sense of the theoretical

basis for and the visionary implications of the kittens action. I will

do this by explaining five key concepts — five powerful memes that,

taken together, may serve as tools to shift how we think about and do

social change work. In explaining these memes I will show that the

kittens action is not merely a tactic as it’s commonly understood — a

choice of action to be used or not as expedient. The kittens action

carries within it both a strategy — a long- term plan of action and a

vision — a place we want our strategies to take us to. I also hope to

show that whatever one thinks of this particular tactic, there is a sore

need for anarchists in particular and progressives in general to create

and promote tactics whose long-term effects are similar to those of the

kittens action if our vision for a more liberated and just world is to

be realized. What exactly the long-term effects of the kittens action

are will be clearer as we proceed.

What’s the connection between tactics, strategy and vision?

Meme 1: Feedback — everywhere

Maybe it’s because my first intellectual passions lay in the sciences

and mathematics, but I often find useful metaphors for thinking about

how people, social groups and society work coming from fields like

mathematics, biology, and complex systems theory. For example, I’ve

found the biological cell with its semi-permeable boundary — selectively

and flexibly allowing in some but not all outside influences — useful in

thinking about how an evolving culture or social group interacts with

other groups or cultures.

In thinking about how society as a whole functions, one useful metaphor

is the human brain. Like society, the brain is made up of multitudes of

specialized yet adaptable, highly interconnected, dynamically developing

yet historically shaped, semi-autonomous units. In the brain these units

are neurons, while in society they are people.

In a complex system such as the brain (organisms and ecosystems are

further examples of these sorts of systems), there are various levels at

which one may examine the system’s dynamics. These levels fall along a

spectrum from the micro — the realm of individual parts — to the macro —

the realm of patterns and relationships among parts. For example, in the

brain there are neurons (micro level) and there are concepts (macro

level).

Whereas small numbers of neurons may be involved in a processing a

particular sense datum (for instance, recognizing the color green),

large collections of neurons are involved with more emotional or

conceptual work (for example, appropriately recognizing a green traffic

light).

The standard view of the philosophy of reductionism is that a whole can

be understood simply by understanding its parts. Classical physical

science is the child of reductionism — for example, the search in

physics for the smallest building blocks of matter. In reaction to the

limitations of reductionism, holistic approaches to knowledge emphasize

relationships and wholes — parts only can be understood in a particular

context or environment.

Feedback — everywhere is the idea that reductionism and holism are both

true, but only partially. Parts create the whole and the whole shapes

the parts. There is mutual influence between the various levels in a

complex system, a dialectical cascade between the micro and the macro.

For example, it turns out that in the brain not only do the things we

sense, perceive, or experience inform our concepts, and shape our moods,

but that our concepts and moods in turn shape what we perceive. Have you

ever misinterpreted a friend’s innocent remark? Then you know what I

mean.

In the social realm these contending perspectives — reductionism and

holism — play out in debates between rugged individualist

‘conservatives,’ and social constructionist ‘liberals.’ (A lot of

contentiousness in our society actually seems to arise from these same

clashing views on the relationship of individuals to groups.)

Feedback-everywhere allows us to transcend this duality: not only do

individuals create society, but society creates individuals.

As I mentioned before, a common criticism of anarchists is that we are

all action without theory, tactics without strategy. A corollary of the

feedback — everywhere principle provides adequate response to this

criticism: the unity of tactics, strategy and vision. Although it is

axiomatic among folk who wanna be smart planners that vision determines

strategy determines tactics, it is rarely recognized that the chain of

effect runs in reverse as well: what we do today (a tactical choice)

shapes our path for tomorrow (strategic possibilities), and the

unfolding of that path shapes our evolving vision. This corollary of

feedback- everywhere — the unity of tactics, strategy and vision — is

embodied in the classic anarchist understanding that our means

(tactics/strategy) must harmonize with our ends (vision).

Thus, the kittens action is not only a tactic for mobilization, to be

used or not as expedient, but it also implies a class of compatible

strategies for transformation, and a class of compatible visions of the

society its practitioners would like to create. Again, the kind of

strategy and vision implicit in the kittens action will be made more

clear as we look at the five other memes.

How do we fight the/for power?

Meme 2: Power as a relationship (rather than a commodity)

Power exists only in the interaction between people. Although the power

relationship may imply different roles-the ‘powerful’ and the

‘disempowered’ — that relationship only has reality because of the

participation and the acquiescence of each participant.

This principle has been recognized by generations of diverse social

theorists and social actionists (e.g. Hume, Tolstoy, Gandhi, Foucault,

and Biko, to name just a few) who have long argued that the power of an

oppressive regime rests on the people’s obedience to that regime. In the

words of Steven Biko, “The most powerful tool in the hands of the

oppressor is the mind of the oppressed.”

Despite this long tradition of nuanced and dialectical thinking about

power, many people, including many on the left, still tend to think in

absolute and static terms when they ponder the nature of power: the

elite or the privileged are ‘powerful’ while the oppressed and the

marginalized are ‘powerless.’ Power for them becomes like a scarce

commodity: some people have it while others don’t.

Why is this way of thinking so pervasive? There at least three reasons

for the popularity of this idea of power: 1) It provides a kind of

rationalization for resignation-‘We have good reason to feel hopeless!

We’re powerless for chrissakes!’; 2) It results from internalized

oppression-resistance becomes inconceivable when we see ourselves as

powerless; 3) Our concepts work metaphorically. The commodity concept of

power arises via metaphorical extension: Power is something we desire

and that we negotiate in social transactions, and thus it is like a

commodity.

The problem with this scarce commodity concept of power is that it can

lead people to make bad strategic choices in their social change work,

and it can lead to perceived and therefore manifest powerlessness. For

example, radical social actionists often criticize liberal reformists

for solving social problems in a way that reinforces the power of the

oppressive social forces that cause the problems to begin with. By

begging the master to throw you a bone, you affirm the master’s power

over your life. To the extent this criticism is true, it is the liberal

reformists’ assumptions about the ‘powerlessness’ of the people they

want to save that is to blame.

A thought experiment I like to give people when it seems like their

understanding of power is too absolute or commodity-like is this:

Imagine you could get rid of the top 1,000,000 power people in the

world- you know, the CEOs, the high-level officials, the presidents, the

generals, the corporate boards of directors, the biotech wizards, the

movie moguls, etc. Imagine you could just snap your fingers and boom!

they would all disappear without a trace.

After their twinkling eyes tell me they’ve gotten the picture, I then

ask:

Ok. So the rulers of society are gone. Now what happens next? Social

liberation? The struggle’s over? We won?

After some moments of consideration, they usually will say something

like, “Naw, it wouldn’t make much of a difference. Other people — the

middle managers, the staffers, the lieutenants, the assistants, etc —

-would all just move up to take their places. What would need to change

is the system, the consciousness.”

To fight the power (and win), it is not enough to get rid of the people

who are privileged. We must change the consciousness that the current

power relations reflect. I’m reminded of the marvelous title of an

anarchist pamphlet I’ve had on my shelf for the longest but that I’ve

never gotten around to reading: You Can’t Blow Up a Social Relationship.

A characteristically anarchist approach to taking action to challenge

power relations is direct action. Direct action means taking action to

directly address a problem or get your needs met, without asking the

powers that be to do it for you. Direct action means fighting power by

asserting your own power, as opposed to asking that others with power

treat you kinder or gentler. Although many activists don’t emphasize

this, direct action isn’t just about fighting power: it’s also about

changing consciousness. People who take direct action to improve their

lives end up by having a greater sense of control over their own lives.

By taking action they change the world, and by changing the world they

change themselves. (This is another example of feedback-everywhere.

Also, see Meme 5 for more on the role of action in shaping our sense of

self.)

Some people confuse direct action with civil disobedience, especially

after the dramatic protests involving mass arrests that we’ve seen in

the global justice movement since Seattle. Though direct action and

civil disobedience can overlap, they are not the same. Civil

disobedience means breaking a law in order to get justice — either

directly in the moment or indirectly through a moral appeal to other

people. Direct action means doing what it takes to get immediate justice

— whether the action is legal or not. Consider the issue of police

brutality. An example of a civil disobedience response would blocking

the streets in order to highlight the issue for the public. An example

of direct action would be forming a Copwatch group to show up and

closely observe whenever folk get stopped by the police.

Since any tactic has implications for strategy and vision (cf. feedback

— everywhere), when evaluating a tactic we should ask ourselves: Does

the tactic (or its related strategy) work to change power relations and

consciousness in a fundamental way? If the answer is yes, great. If the

answer is no, time to rethink our tactics.

How does the kittens action work to change power relations and

consciousness? In some ways the kittens action is closer to direct

action than the typical march-rally.

At a march, most participants do not directly engage the public; they

are merely part of a crowd passing by waving their signs. The immediate

target of a typical march-rally is actually the media, and only

indirectly the public.

Organizers draw media attention in the hopes that the media will then

communicate their message to the public. In contrast, at a kittens

action, the participants interact with the public directly; they become

the media themselves and take their message directly to the people.

Also, participants at a kittens action (kittens for short) must think

and make decisions on the spot — where to go, who to engage, what to

say, how to respond — whereas few such decisions need to be made by

marchers following the crowds on a pre-planned route. And these

interactions happen involving many, many more members of the public than

the relative few who happen to see a march go by. Their autonomy

combined with the widespread nature of their action means kittens pose a

greater challenge than marchers to the taboos about how to behave in

public.

Finally, kittens interact with lots of people who may not automatically

agree with or be as passionate about the issues as them. Thus they work

more than marchers in challenging their own fears of rejection. They

become stronger organizers.

One visionary implication of the kittens action is thus revealed:

building a society where everyone sees themselves as creators of social

reality, with lead-not just supporting-roles to play.

There are other ways I believe the kittens action fits within a larger

vision of consciousness change. I’ll explain more below.

What needs to change in our culture?

Meme 3: Transformation as Culture Shift

Political structures and economic structures not only shape culture, but

they arise out of culture (cf. feedback — everywhere). Social

transformation of the kind people like us wanna see will require more

than a changing of the guard-it will require a shift in our culture, a

shift in our everyday habits of thinking and acting.

In what ways does our culture need to shift? There are many, many ways I

can think of, and I’m sure you can, too. I’ll list a few here that are

of particular relevance to the kittens action.

First, mainstream U.S. culture has a bizarre taboo against talking

politics in public. Our media primarily focus on personalities, trivia

and tragedies. Social reality is mainly a show — one with us as

spectators, and whose key events seem beyond our control.

How can people see themselves as creators of social reality?

Second, we have a dominant culture that squashes dialogue on deeper

levels. For most people in our society, it is not cool to seem ignorant

or confused, so asking questions is uncool. It is not cool to show a

need for help or a reliance on other humans. We strive to be

independent, so we tend to repress, not express, many of the feelings

that arise from our basic needs. Hence, for these reasons and others,

instead of communication, dialogue, and understanding, we have

advertisements, announcements, and arguments.

How can we create dialogue that deepens our understanding of ourselves

and each other?

Furthermore, our economic system actually depends on people feeling

disconnected and unable to rely on others: individually wrapped

lifestyles make us bigger consumers and more fearful workers. Ways of

relating that are about mutual aid and interpersonal connection outside

scripted roles — insofar as they are not marketable or commodifiable,

and insofar as they interfere with workplace discipline — get

deemphasized in our corporate- mediated culture. (The historical loss of

the commons has been well- documented, and continues to play out in

contemporary struggles over privatization.) The acceptable roles —

consumers, workers, sports fans, et al. — get scripted for us. As we

spend our time wearing masks not of our own creation, we feel less in

control of our own lives, and a sense of powerlessness (or alienation)

becomes pervasive. The alienation leads to greed and fear: Greed to beat

out our competition (i.e., fellow humans), and fear that the competition

will beat us out. The business and the government elites use greed and

fear to increase the power they wield in our lives. And the alienation

grows


How can we stop this cycle of alienation, fear, and greed?

Finally, most forms of collectivity in our society — teams, companies,

public agencies, etc. — are organized as clear hierarchies, with bosses,

managers and followers. Very rarely do we have opportunities to work in

groups that are organized in an egalitarian way, where the experiences

of each participant are equally important. Thus, we get used to seeing

collectivity as requiring a weakening of our individuality. We come to

see individuality and collectivity as locked in a zero-sum competition.

To be a ‘strong individual’ means to ignore the collective, and to be a

‘good team- player’ means to efface one’s own needs.

How can we create social groups that both enhance and feed off of the

power of the individual members? How can we create liberated forms of

collectivity?

In reaction to the pervasive hierarchy that informs our social groups,

and because they cannot think of alternative structures, some anarchists

espouse doing away with complex forms of social organization altogether.

Some pine for an idyllic past where everyone lived in small egalitarian

bands and complex divisions of labor did not exist. However, the

majority of thoughtful anarchists make a distinction between the

legitimate authority of experts who we choose to listen to for advice or

situational leadership, and the imposed authority of bosses, rulers and

elites.

But knowing in theory that legitimate and non-coercive leadership is

possible doesn’t mean that it’s always clear how to make it work in

practice. A huge stumbling block for efforts to create egalitarian

social arrangements is that the vast majority of people’s socialization

has occurred primarily through hierarchical groups and institutions. One

of the powerful and far-reaching impacts of the global justice

movement’s mass mobilization efforts has been the exposure of many, many

people to effective egalitarian forms of decision-making (e.g. affinity

groups). These people certainly take their experiences into other

aspects of their lives and their social change work.

A question to ask about any tactics (or strategies) for social change is

this: to what extent do those tactics (or strategies) help prefigure or

bring about a desirable and necessary change in the way we live our

lives, a desirable and necessary shift in our culture?

The kittens action promotes a culture-shift on all the fronts I’ve just

mentioned.

First, it gets folk to transgress the taboo about talking politics in

public. The demise of this taboo would have deep and far-reaching

consequences in our society. No longer would the American public be

content to limit its sophisticated analyses and passionate debates to

sports, pop stars and movies. No longer would our roles as consumers or

workers eclipse our roles as community members, as citizens (documented

or not). When social reality ceases to be a trivial show, when social

reality is something that we have important things to say about, then we

can move from being spectators to being creators.

Second, by breaking through not only the taboo against politics but the

taboo against purposefully engaging strangers in dialogue, kittens renew

their sense of interdependence and connection with the real people who

make up the real society around them. Conversing about heartfelt stuff

with people outside our normal circles makes it hard to reduce people to

tokens in a theory, it expands our sense of our own humanity, and it

moves us out of alienation.

Third, the kittens action — just like other anti-authoritarian forms of

mass action (e.g. affinity group convergences) — engages participants in

a form of collectivity where every individual is a key actor and

decision-maker, and where the power of the group is directly dependent

on the power of the individuals, and where the power of the individuals

is directly connected with the power of their team and indirectly

(especially at the final reconvergence/sharing stories step) connected

with the power of the overall action. We learn to create liberated forms

of collectivity through practical experience.

How do we move from the margins into the center?

Meme 4: Organization vs. Marginalization

Anarchists who are into organizing are often critical of those who

represent anarchism largely as a subculture or lifestyle. Anarchist

organizers argue that lifestylist anarchists marginalize themselves in

their safe subculture niches and thus become invisible and irrelevant in

the wider movement.

The marginalization anarchist organizers worry about is not just a

problem for anarchists — it’s a problem for the left as a whole. (N.B. I

know some of y’all don’t like the word ‘left.’ Sorry for any semantic

inconvenience. What I mean by ‘left’ is very broad: the people who

believe we need more social equality, more sustainability, less hatred,

and more liberation in the world.)

For most of us on the left, the longer we see ourselves as part of the

left, the more we feel estranged and distant from regions of culture

that used to be familiar to us. We spend more and more time with other

progressives and activists, and less and less time with that

‘conservative brother-in-law who just doesn’t get it.’ We shift our

sense of community as we shift our sense of self. This is quite normal.

However, if we on the left are going to win the public to our side of

the struggle, we gotta do more than complain about the people who don’t

know what we know, or the people who aren’t activated like us. We gotta

figure out how to teach people what we know, and we gotta figure out how

to activate people. In short, we gotta organize.

A lotta people assume that organizing means organization-building.

Perhaps this comes from the (correct) notion that systemic change

requires institutional change, and the (incorrect) notion that

institutional change requires mass organizations. Or perhaps it comes

from Marxist- Leninist party-fetishism. Who knows?

When I talk about organizing I don’t mean getting people to join an

organi- zation, although that can be a part of it. By organizing I

simply mean doing what organizers do — getting people to do something,

getting people to take action. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter if someone

joins a particular organization, as long as that person is doing work to

expand human liberation, and as long as they understand that their work

is part of a larger tapestry of transformation, a tapestry that includes

the work I and people like me are doing.

This is a critical point so let me take time to be clear here. The

impact and legacy of left social movements (e.g. the civil rights

movement, the anti-nuke movement) cannot be measured simply by the

policies that are passed or by the organizations that get created. After

all, policies can be subverted and organizations can ossify. The main

value of left social movements comes from the transformative actions

they inspire from millions of unnamed and unaffiliated people, people

whose lives are changed by something they are a part of, people who take

what they learn into the rest of their lives. The main value of social

movements comes from the way they deepen our consciousness and shift our

culture.

Any tactic or strategy connected with a vision for liberation must say

yes to the following question: Does this tactic or strategy lead to

transformative action? Does this tactic or strategy organize?

It is clear that the kittens action, like any mass action, does organize

people, at least its participants. Participants step outside their

normal scripts of silence and anonymity in the face of the culture of

complicity, and they do something about the ills they perceive. Further,

by directly engaging the public, kittens can organize many, many others

as well.

More on this to come.

How do people learn? What makes people change?

Meme 5: experience over symbolism

What makes people change? This is the fundamental question facing all

organizers (and teachers). This question should be on the mental front

burners of anyone who cares about changing the world.

There are essentially two views on the problem of getting people to

learn or change. One view is that learning happens primarily through

symbols — words, texts, stories, images, etc. The other view is that

learning happens primarily through experience — things that happen to us

and things that we do. (These two views are really part of a more

complex continuum. For instance, consider role-models, people in our

lives that serve as examples for us to follow. Are they experiences? Are

they symbols? Both? Neither?)

Organizers (and teachers) who take the symbolic approach focus on making

convincing arguments, telling compelling stories, showing people

evocative images. Symbolic learning is the dominant approach taken in

traditional schooling, and it serves important functions — the

memorization of facts, the communication of the experiences of others.

Also, within organizing symbolic work serves a vital function-background

knowledge, raising critical questions.

The experiential approach to learning focuses on hands-on projects,

field trips, apprenticeships, experiments, student-centered learning.

(One example of student-centered learning is Paulo Freire’s liberation

pedagogy: it is all about privileging the ‘subjective’ experience of the

learner over the ‘objective’ official knowledge of the teacher.) In

organizing, the experiential approach focuses on helping people reflect

on their own experiences, and pushing people to have new experiences-to

expand their understanding of an issue and their relationship to the

issue.

Although formal schooling is dominated by symbolic learning,

experiential learning is almost universally recognized among educators

to be the most powerful approach.

Pause for a moment to think about your most powerful and memorable

learning experience. Did it happen because someone made an especially

convincing argument to you, or told you a particularly compelling story?

If you’re like most people, chances are your most powerful learning

experience was precisely that — an experience, something that happened

that you were a part of.

In the realm of social change as well, the symbolic approach has

limitations. One weakness of the symbolic approach to social change can

be seen in the diluted and in some cases reversed. Policy victories of

the civil rights movement, for instance; although Brown v. Board of

Education (and following rulings and legislation) ended de jure

segregation in schooling, de facto segregation continues. Fifty years

after Brown the racial gaps in education persist, mainly because the

racist attitudes of whites in America have not changed that much.

Another weakness with symbolic approaches to change as compared to

experiential approaches has to do with long-term vision. Is our vision

to continue a culture where politics is a spectacle, a parade of

rhetoric and images, controlled by an elite minority of privileged and

highly-trained image-makers, story-tellers and symbolic analysts (be

they from the left, center or right)? Or do we want to create a culture

where politics is not seen primarily as something you watch, read about

or listen to, but rather as something you do, something you experience?

This is a really difficult thing to imagine. It is perhaps a universal

of human culture that the leaders and chiefs tend to be the ones who are

the most verbally astute. Throughout human history — and evidence

suggests even in the days when we were all hunters and gatherers living

in small nomadic bands — political life has been disproportionately

influenced if not dominated by those who were the most adept at words

and images. Is it even possible to have a political culture that doesn’t

have this sort of built-in status hierarchy?

(Additionally, personality typologies such as the Myers-Briggs and

learning theories that look at multiple intelligences and learning

styles suggest that symbolic-oriented learners — as opposed to

concrete-experientially- oriented learners — form a privileged minority

within our schooling system, especially at the secondary and

post-secondary levels.)

Recognizing the problematics with this kind of power is difficult,

especially as many of us, including me, have found a kind of power to

fight oppression through our facility with language and symbols.

Yet there is a paradox. On the one hand, we want people to take action

and take charge of their own lives, and not be led by whatever images

they’re fed by the elites, or whatever myths they’re told by charismatic

people around them. On the other hand, the most ready tool for social

change many of us have is our own influential voice (be it spoken or

written or performed or illustrated). (Eugene Debs, socialist

presidential candidate in the early 1900s, illustrated this paradox when

he said, “I don’t want you to follow me or anyone else. I would not lead

you into the promised land if I could, because if I could lead you in,

somebody else would lead you out.” )

It is essentially the question of how to promote revolution without

promoting oneself. This question must be recognized and grappled with

those of us who envision a society without elites of any kind.

The history of revolutions for social equality creating new elites and

ruling castes shows the difficulty of overcoming this conundrum.

Clearly, in these instances, symbolic revolution, articulated by

revolutionary elites, won out over experiential revolution grounded in

the unique perspectives of all members of society. Top-down won out over

bottom-up.

Perhaps the conundrum can be canceled by an approach that combines

actions with symbols in some sort of dialectic or transformation? To the

extent both the actions and the symbols are controlled by each

individual, elitist divisions of labor between those who instruct and

those who follow instructions could be overcome. (I once chatted with a

woman who was a self-made life-planning counselor. She told me a bit

about neurolinguistic programming-a self-improvement approach that uses

individually chosen gestures to symbolize moods or mindsets that we want

to reinforce in ourselves. Something for further study
)

So we’ve considered some weaknesses with symbolic approaches to social

change. What about experiential approaches?

An example of the power of action and experience in personal

transformation comes from the field of social psychology.

There was study conducted by a team of social psychologists in a

suburban neighborhood. They posed as ‘community workers’ and asked the

residents whether they would be willing to place a billboard in their

front lawns as a public service. The billboards would say ‘Please Drive

Carefully.’ Of course, the vast majority of them said ‘hell no!’ to the

request — 85% of the people in the study’s control group in fact refused

to do this public service. In the test group, however, in the same

neighborhood, with demographics exactly the same, 83% said ‘yes’ to the

‘community workers’ strange request.

One group was 85% ‘no’ while the other group just the reverse, 83%

‘yes.’’

Why such a dramatic reversal in response between the two groups of

residents? The only difference between the two groups was that, two

weeks previously, another set of ‘community workers’ had visited the

test group, with a smaller and much easier request: Would they be

willing to place a 3- by-3 inch card in their front window with the

words ‘Please Drive Carefully’? When given this token request, the

almost all of the people said ‘yes.’

Because the people in the test group had already done a token action

supporting the cause (placing the card in their window), they were much

more likely to do a bigger action (putting up a billboard in their yard)

for the cause later on. By taking a small action people’s sense of

themselves had changed, and they were much more likely to do other and

bigger actions in the future, consistent with their changed sense of

self. (This study and similarly interesting results from social

psychology can be found in Robert Cialdini’s Influence: the Psychology

of Persuasion and Eliot Aaronson’s The Social Animal. )

This notion of getting people to do small things in order to make them

more likely to do bigger things later on is known as baby-steps by

organiz- ers (and foot-in-the-door by sales people). It is a powerful

example of the power of action in transformation.

The kittens action applies this notion of baby-steps on two levels, at

the level of the wider public and at the level of the kittens

themselves.

Firstly, in a kittens action, because the kittens are engaging the

public, and not just holding signs or chanting in a crowd, they can get

the people they meet to do things like write letters, sign petitions,

put stickers on their cars, wear buttons, swear oaths, and a host of

other token actions that will get the people who are not activists to

move one baby-step in the direction of becoming activists.

Thus, the movement becomes bigger.

Secondly, by helping kittens have a baby-step experience as organizers

directly and personally engaging the public to promote their cause, the

kittens action helps the participants to see themselves as organizers.

Thus the kittens action help create more organizers, more people who

will be active and effective over the long-term at expanding the

movement.

These individuals will not only interact with the people they meet that

particular day; they will go on to be more likely to interact with

others they meet in the future-in their workplaces, in their

neighborhoods, in the supermarkets. In this way, not only does the

kittens action do like any mass action and organize the people who

participate-the kittens action spreads the meme of organizing to create

more organizers!

Thus, the movement becomes deeper.

With the help of baby-steps, we can see how the kittens action provides

a powerful application of the meme of experience over symbolism, and a

powerful tactic in helping us build a bigger and deeper movement.

Conclusion: Spreading Revolution

For me, as an organizer and as a teacher, the biggest question I face

everyday is: What can I do to get people to have experiences that

transform and enrich their sense of possibilities? One of the things

I’ve learned (and relearned many times!) is that this question is

equivalent to the question: What can I do to transform and enrich my own

sense of possibilities? As a religion teacher I had in college named

Thandeka once told me, The inner and the outer are one.

On some days or at some moments I see the light and feel inspired, at

other times it’s enough just to get through the day without seriously

wanting to hurt somebody or myself. Such is life.

Besides self-care, like walking or playing or staring at stars or fun

personal stuff like that, one thing that renews my hope in a heartbeat,

that allows me to smile and say things like “George Bush is good for

America” to my friends and not feel like I’m telling a sick joke is

this: remembering that I am just but a single thread in a huge and

unfolding tapestry of liberation.

Every single person on this planet has a role in weaving that tapestry.

And everybody’s got a unique thread to weave. The best and only thing I

can do is weave my thread and get out of the way of people trying to

weave theirs.

The revolution is now. The revolution is all the time. Welcome to the

revolution.

Race, Gender, Class: Structure of the Global Elite and World

Capitalism by Kapila

Let’s put one lie to rest for all time: the lie that men are oppressed,

too, by sexism — the lie that there can be such thing as ‘men

liberation’ groups. Oppression is something that one group of people

commits against another group specifically because of a ‘threatening’

characteristic shared by the latter group — skin color or sex or age

etc. The oppressors are indeed fucked up by being masters (racism hurts

whites, sexual stereotypes are harmful to men) but those masters are not

oppressed. Any master has the alternative of divesting himself of sexism

or racism — the oppressed have no alternative — for they have no

power-but to fight. In the long run, Women’s Liberation will of course

free men, but, in the short run, is going to cost men a lot of

privilege, which no one gives up willingly or easily. Sexism is not the

fault of women; kill your fathers, not your mothers.

— Robin Morgan

I look at their faces, I see reflection and masks that sometimes repeat

my own in a strange cyclic pattern of power. Because in here, I am but a

wage- slave, condemn sweating and hurting for eight bucks an hour,

forced to smile and accept condescend behavior from the all-smiling,

ever merry elite of the capital. Out there, they might call me a

brother, an equal. We are not.

The system of class and the European system of white dominance and

colonialism fused to became one single straight brute force, a giant

juggernaut that tramples over the working-class worldwide and its two

legs are racism and sexism.

Let us be realistic.

While I work at Stanford University, serving food for the sons of the

elite and the future elite, it is increasingly strange for me to realize

that this elite sometimes has skin darker than mine, accent thicker than

mine, visible cultural roots sometimes more apparent than mine. The

strength in which this realization affects me cannot be easily described

— it is an eye-opener and is a mind narrower, it is both an epiphany as

it is of such an obscurity.

This multicolored, multicultural bourgeoisie is always the enemy and

sometimes the most unexpected and always undesired ally, which forces

its “diversity” and its “oppressed situation” down my throat, in an

obscene mockery of the plight of the workers of the world.

Let us be realistic.

Racism — white dominance — is not an American phenomenon. The “white

race” supports a global system of racial inequality and prejudice where,

worldwide, the white male has a hegemonic dominance. It is the new

capitalist model, and it is the old. Imperialism is a stream that never

dried because it is vital for the World Capitalism.

The World Elite — World Capitalism

The capitalist globalization process that everyday kills and destroys

the lives of millions and millions of people around the globe serves the

political, social and economic agenda of a very well structured global

elite. This global elite is composed essentially of capitalist white

males, power- hungry and with no desire whatsoever of relinquish or

divide power. It is paramount to their institutions of power to ensure

the security of the ‘invisibility’ of the fact that the elite of the

world is composed of one class, one race and one gender. This elite

controls the levels of government and the levels of business. They are

the church (the moral authority) and they are the creators of culture.

They are the philosophers, the educators. They are too the most

pernicious and dangerous group of people.

This elite has across the centuries used the divisions and social

inequalities in society. In fact, they are the creators and the

maintainers of this oppressive structure, and the sole beneficiaries of

it. Through a structured and systemic misogynist, racist, homophobic,

brutal capitalist protocol, they ensure the maintenance of their global

empire and especially, the maintenance of their privilege domain over

the majority of the people on earth.

It is, it always was, in the interest of that elite that we, the people,

do not understand their affairs and could have no access to their

domains. The institutions of race, class and gender are notably set to

the advancement and comfort of these people and the exploitation of

others.

This elite maintains nowadays a global system of exploitation, a

structure that interlocks racism, sexism and “traditional” capitalist

exploitation, which, for lack of a better word, I shall call World

Capitalism.

Traditional Marxist and class struggle analysis have always had a very

bad understanding of the race and gender — the concept that those two

systems of exploitation were a “fruit” of capitalist society and would

be eliminated when the class struggle is resolved fails to analytically

criticize a culture based in racism and sexism — both of which came into

the picture way before capitalism was around — and how the power

structure of privilege does not have to be ratified by the police, the

capitalists or even the State. Culture alone can be a catalyst of

exploitation and submission, and the change and the complete revolution

in the bourgeoisie social fabric cannot be done by simply taking the

bourgeois out of the picture.

The understanding of the concept of privilege and how privilege imposes

itself is necessary to understand why is that racism and sexism are so

strong in our societies, why is that we to fight for the “right” of

getting jobs (not goods jobs, just jobs in general), why it is two or

three times scarier for us to walk at night, why is that, even when

economically would make sense to alleviate the tension around race and

gender — our society is adamant in keeping those tensions alive and

burning.

This elite benefits threefold from the system of World Capitalism — the

system devised, planned and structure around the white male bourgeois

privilege, a system that connects the different levels of exploitation

in one single machine.

Race

Different from others, I firmly believe that the structure of the World

Capitalism could not do without racism and sexism. The reasons for the

existence of this two can be slightly different but the end result is

the same — the submission of the oppressed levels of the people to the

elite of the capitalist society.

For the purpose of this analysis, racism and sexism shall be broadened

to comprehend a multitude of other correlated subjects that are

intrinsically tied to and share the same roots of those concepts.

Racism, in this essay, refers (unless noted) to race dominance and

privilege, national identity, nationalism, imperialism, colonialism and

cultural repression. All those share a basic identity of a dominating

ethnic/national group and a subordinated one.

To understand race and capitalism in a broader sense of the American

concept of race, it is paramount to us to analyze race in its historical

context.

Racism in Europe started before Capitalism. The feudal lords and the

crown of Spain (absolutist and mercantilist) already obsessed over the

concept of “limpieza de sangre,” the purity of blood. This concept

became strong in Spain in the 1400s, when the Spaniards fought against

the Moors invaders. A national liberation struggle, if you like.

These concepts of race and the purity of blood, however, were deeply

ingrained in European culture. Europe was a continent driven by conquest

and tribal wars. The Romans regarded the tribes of Germans and Francs to

be barbarians, brutes of low intelligence and destined to be submitted

to the rule of the roman fasciae.

Examples run back in history ad nauseam, in demonstrating a racist

culture and a racist system as an integral part of the European culture.

Why should we be shocked that they, when spreading their empire, spread

too their racist system?

It is sometimes a fairly common misconception that other cultures had no

racist background until the arrival of the Europeans. That is not true.

The African tribal wars that to this day plight the people in that

continent are a living proof that race (identity) has been an issue long

before Capitalism. What seems then to be the purpose of racism? In

classical dialectical materialistic analysis, the constant struggle over

power between forces of society shapes the format of the future and the

present of the said society.

In the case of the disappearance of race and gender in our society, the

only struggle to be faced would be the class war — and against a united

working class, the capitalist are bound to lose. The need of a different

struggle, the need of race and gender inequality for the capitalist is

to engage the working class in different battles, to divide and conquer

it.

Based on that, one could argue that, in the long run, racism has always

been a structure designed to maintain the power of a certain class over

another by creating a platform of “equality” of sorts, making them

“brothers” of the oppressed class. This definition of racism carries

more weight than we can initially imagine, but it fails to recognize

that racism can outlive class oppression — and be still the source of

power to a few that would dominate the hierarchy that from that would

emerge.

Racism and Sexism are more culturally rooted in the world than

Capitalism, more than the struggle between the bourgeoisie and the

proletariat. Some cultures are feudal systems, other monarchic

dictatorships (But I deny the Marxist evolutionism of societies in the

sense of feudal-to-capitalist-to-communist-to-free-socialist as being an

evolutionary process that is absolute to any society). Racism and Sexism

are two paramount structures of domination with which the world dominant

class maintains its power, and, without them, the structure of World

Capitalism would collapse.

It is part of the strategy of the global elite to actively support and

maintain white dominance worldwide.

The idea that white supremacy is an American phenomenon, that it is a

national issue to be dealt nationally, and that racism in the U.S. have

origins in American Capitalism is, in essence, a very American idea. At

the same time, the complex aspects of race in the U.S. and the current

debate on racism and classism might be the catalyst for the change in

the perception of race and white dominance.

Global white dominance appears in two different aspects: privilege and

de-facto ruling.

The privilege of the white race is an absolute in the world’s politics

and economics; nowhere in the face of the world are people of European

descent the oppressed minority (or majority) to an elite of color. The

“white race” enjoys a privilege that does not falter by geographic

means.

The white colonial/imperial power stretched itself through the process

of capitalist globalization. The consolidation of global capitalism is

not only rooted in racism but dependant on it. From Brazil to India to

Mexico, the lighter skin carries a lighter burden and occupies the

higher place.

The de facto ruling of a white elite that controls the global capitalist

state enforces the privilege of the “white race.” Transnational

corporate forces are massively concentrated in the U.S. and Europe and

so are the powerful nation-states. The “white race” enjoys a position of

privilege in these two segments.

Token gains on race and gender are not so much to pacify race and gender

struggles, as it is to foment further struggle. The idea is to give the

exploited a little taste of what they could get, but to make it clear

that would have to carry a certain burden in order to get it. Just like

a mule that tasted a piece of the carrot once is bound to want to eat

the whole carrot, and will work with all its strength to reach the

unreachable carrot, and carry the weight of the cart in its back. But,

apparently contradicting themselves, the capitalist class shows its

contempt by race and gender equality by openly attacking any form of

improvement in the situation of the oppressed genders and races. This

makes the structure, in the eyes of people of color, a racist one,

instead of a purely classist one. It is necessary to keep people

thinking that a) gains can be achieved inside the structure and b)

racism is everywhere (which is true, but it needs to be really thrown at

people’s faces all the times). The objective of this exercise is to

demonstrate both that power is in the side in the elite; and that the

oppressed’s situation can improve if only they submit enough so the

elite do not seem them as a threat, but as something they can thoroughly

control. At the same time, they need to keep the distance between those

that have privilege, and those who do not.

It is interesting to see that the elite of color too benefits from the

racist structure, and if racism were to simply be wiped out of the whole

scenario, they would be in bad waters. It is of their interest that the

white elite dominates — that would eagerly try to take over if they

thought that they could do it without tearing the fabric of social

control that the white capitalist elite maintains.

The racist structure of the system allows the elites of color to

maintain their power and give them other possibilities. Imperialism has

been used as a shield by every single dictator that had power threatened

by the bigger shark, from Castro to Hussein to Milosevic. This dragged

into direct or indirect the defense of their oppressive regime millions

of people of color, working class people and anti-imperialist militants.

This is not a justification to the U.S. actions, but an example of how

the racist structure benefits not only the white elite and therefore

supports directly or indirectly by the elites worldwide. It is a case of

opportunism, where oppressors assume an “oppressed” mask to defend

themselves against the taking of dominance against another.

A very concrete example of that is the role that Brazil plays now in the

FTAA meetings. Lula and the PT (Brazilian Worker’s Party) have been

repeatedly trying to sell this image of a defiant Brazil, which is

concerned with the imperialist role that the U.S. would play in South

America in case the FTAA gets approved. What they are concerned about is

that Brazil might lose its hegemonic dominance over the South American

market; and then, if the U.S. does not open its market to Brazilian

products, the Brazilian elite of landlords would lose power. They are

not concerned with the effects of the FTAA on labor, environment and the

people. It is just very convenient that those issues show up so they can

rally public support.

This pattern repeats itself around the globe. Besides, the majority of

this “elite of color” are actually descendent of Europeans. Just look at

South America, the diversity and richness of races and cultures in it —

then look at the elite of South America, a very white and European class

of bourgeois. The elites of Africa, while not European in skin, are

mostly educated and raised in Europe or the U.S. The pattern repeats

itself.

In maintaining the white supremacy, the elites of color try to escape

guilt- free. In the fight for racial and gender equality, the working

class remains bound. It is not that these fights are not important; if

anything, alongside with class, they are the most important ones. It is

only that, without the fall of the capitalist system as a whole, any

fight becomes just filler.

Other parts of the elites of color take a more aggressive position in

the defense of the interests of the world capitalist elite. The elites

of Japan thrive over the complete subjugation to the American empire.

Make no mistake: this is hardly a submissive elite — they were imperial

forces for centuries and held an elitist racial position over their

neighbors. However, in this game they play, the subordinate elite

because is very much in their interest to keep the status quo, and the

rest is inconsequential. Japan, defeated on WWII, is reborn as a global

potency. But in submission to the white empire. Their pop culture, their

dream, their means of production — everything about modern Japan cries —

slave, but this condition of slave to the elite of world capitalism

asserts its hegemony and dominance over other nations. More than that,

it asserts the dominance of the Japanese elite.

The left worldwide have, for decades now, struggled with race and class

and gender — which liberation should take precedence over another —

without realizing that if any take precedence, the whole fight in itself

is almost a moot point. Racism is not only a pillar of class oppression.

It is one of the single bases of oppression itself.

Gender

In this essay, when referring to sexism, the concept, unless noted,

incorpo- rates issues like women’s rights, women’s position in the

bottom of the scale of the capitalist society, homophobia and male

violence against women.

Sexism — male dominance — is the less addressed and consequentially the

most widespread system of oppression in the world. The roots of sexism

in societies cannot be easily traced and I will not even attempt to

dwell in its history to avoid any fallacy. However, in this essay, we

shall analyze sexism in its relationship with global capitalism and the

struggle for liberation.

The revolution of the capitalists was an economic and political

revolution — not social. The French Revolution, the fall of the

Absolutists in Europe, the social changes that followed were design to

enforce the rule of the bourgeoisie and strengthen the influence and

power of this rising class against outside forces. Representative

democracy, liberty and freedom and all the other promises that the

revolution made to the people were designed according to which form

would create a favorable atmosphere for the establishment of capitalism.

It is interesting then to notice that the revolutionary leaders were

quick to crush the women’s movement that was born during the revolution.

The establishment of Capitalism could not allow the development of such

a movement, especially since, in order to satisfy what those women were

demanding, a distribution of power was necessary. One pamphlet

distributed by those women during the revolution was called Request for

Women to be Admitted to the Estates-General, and had the following

quote: ““Man is born egotist... he reduces us to managing his household

affairs and to partaking of his rare favors when he feels so inclined.”

Nothing could be more true and it exemplifies the relationship between

the elite and women — the relationship of power and the need of a

structure that ‘justifies’ and maintain such a relationship.

The strained relationship between capitalism and women has a lot to do,

in a modern setting, with the fact that the elites of the world are — no

matter their “color” — an oppressive majority of males. The male

dominance is not only a “cultural trait” as it is one of applying a

simple rule of power — those hoe have power will not give it up for

free. Concentrated power is limited — the more you share the less you

have and the elites of the World will not relinquish power for women.

The relationship of power between men and women needs to transcend race

and class in other to be effective. Although one could argue that this

is just another classist plot of the bourgeois to keep their economic

rule over the working class, it is very interesting to notice that

misogynist thinking is part (in different levels) of a multitude of

cultures, even before they got in contact with each other. ‘Primitive’

societies had their good share of misogyny — they were hardly the utopia

that certain people picture them to be. The dominant gender in our

societies has been exploiting women’s work and women in general for

millennia after millennia. Sexism is not a capitalist invention. It is

not accident that the bourgeoisie power is composed essentially of

males, this is merely a consequence of the fact that even when the class

struggle between the nobility and the bourgeois aristocrats was being

fought, in one thing they agreed — that was a fight between men, to see

which men was going to be the ruler. It is obvious then why the views of

women like Olympe de Gouges were so threatening to them that she was

guillotined in 1793 as a reactionary loyalist.

Robespierre, Marat and the men of the Revolution were most certainly

terrified of losing their power to a woman who advocated not only the

necessity of full legal equality between the genders, job opportunities

for women, schooling for girls and the creation of a national theater

were only plays written by women could be performed, but the creation of

the National Assembly of Women, emphasizing the need for women of self-

governing and equal power.

Gouges understood that — because the culture of sexism — a structure

that “embraced” men and women as “equals” would do nothing to actually

satisfy women’s need and desire for liberation. It would be a token act.

The need of self-organization for women came from the realization that

in a social structure, every single relationship is one of power, and if

men constructed the social structure, it would be inherently sexist.

Only women could devise a structure that would really beneficiate women.

Sexism always had a condescending tone to its rhetoric, a view that

men’s subjugation of women was actually a necessity for the welfare of

women.

What is interesting is that this view is deeply ingrained in the social

fabric of our society, and too ensure this, it is necessary that all men

participate consciously or unconsciously in terrorizing women — much

like the State, the function of manhood is to terrify women into

accepting men’s ‘protection’ for the price of their total submission. As

Susan Brownmiller puts it, rape “is nothing more or less than a

conscious process of intimidation by which all men keep all women in a

state of fear.” Domestic violence, violence against women and rape are

forms of intimidation and bullying through which, firstly, male

dominance is imposed, and second, male ‘protection’ is made ‘necessary.’

Culture reinforces the dominant role of the male and its ‘need’ of

violence.

The cult of violent behavior by men, against women and against each

other, is more than just assertion of power against the recipient of

violence. It is part of the engine that feeds of the terrorizing of

women to keep them submissive.

Is the double use of the rod — it can beat you up or beat someone else

to protect you. And, as Susan Griffin notes in the book Rape: The

All-American Crime, “if the professional rapist is to be separated from

the average dominant heterosexual [male], it may be mainly a

quantitative difference.” The level to which dominance and violence are

exerted to the domination of women may vary in quantity, but not in

substance.

The idea of our social fabric reinforcing gender roles of

violence/passivity is to create an atmosphere of fear so overwhelming

that the mere presence of the male becomes threatening. Male attitudes —

tone of voice, way of sitting, conversation, clothing — everything is

designed in order to keep women guessing and consequentially, afraid.

Why is it then surprising that our movement and our spaces are normally

male dominated if why do not critically analyze the balance of power in

the attitudes and presence of men and women inside the movement.

A woman in a room full of men, no matter how strong, outspoken and

determined she is, and no matter how much the men are determined to

treat her as an equal — is definitively in a position of less power and

thus will not have the same weight in her voice. And with the

institutions are not conscious of this power imbalance and do not work

actively in reverting this situation — the maintenance of the status quo

is inevitable.

The oppression of women by the working class males is a phenomenon that

can be traced back to almost every single culture. To see the feminist

struggle as separate and a “division of forces” of the working class is

a ludicrous statement — a reflection of a poor understanding of the

nature of oppression and the nature of the working class.

Indeed, to separate these three fights is to divide the working class,

but to set priority in any of them and have the others as a tag along is

to destroy any hopes of liberation that the working class might have.

The gender-based oppression serves a political purpose too. It serves

the elites that women have no political power for the same reason that

it serves the elites that people of color do not enjoy political power.

There is, however, a difference between the gender elite and the elite

of color. The male-dominated elite of color is, globally speaking,

fairly stronger and definitively more aggressive in its pursuit of power

than the gender-elite. The gender-elite lives in a much more subordinate

position (to their male counterparts) than the elite of color — thus

putting them in a closer position with the women of the working class.

An abused woman will identify with the plight of another one —

independent of class or race; a queer person can identify with

persecution and prejudice.

It is however, very important to notice that, empathy and de facto

equality are a far cry from each other, and while the bourgeois women

might have in common with the working-class women their subordinate

position, they are enemies of class and therefore not allies.

Conclusion

The union of the working class in one fight will not happen without the

acknowledgment of the levels of oppression inside the working class

itself and the actual facing and destroying of the power imbalance in

the movement that proposes to change the reality of oppression lived by

the working class nowadays. A forced union of the working class, with

disregard of the real issues of gender and race except in a superficial

way is bound to fail.

A world revolution is necessary — a complete change of structure, a

social, economic and political revolution that destroys class, gender

and racial oppression.

I disagree with the idea that the class struggle should take priority

over the race and gender struggle. This centralist and elitist view of

disregarding the concerns of women and people of color have been seen

thousands of times before, and we have been betrayed and stomped on

enough to realize that those with power will not relinquish it, it must

be taken from them. Only the oppressed can liberate the oppressed, and

it is vital that we understand people of color, women, queers and all

the other oppressed people inside the working class have not only this

motto repeated in their heads like a mantra, but that they actually need

to exercise that line inside the movement and draw their own conclusions

of where they want to go and what needs to be done.

I too disagree with the idea that race and gender should be taken a

priority over the class struggle — the simple idea that race and gender

issues could be solved inside the capitalist system in any frame is

simply ludi- crous. Inside the capitalist system, we have no real say in

the affairs of business and very little (in the most optimistic of the

views) in the affairs of the government. A feminist or a race movement

that did not have as priority to smash the capitalist system would fall

sort on its legs — gender and race justice are impossible inside the

capitalist system. The capitalist system is not only a system based on

class dominance, but one too that maintain women and people of color

inside that class and oppressed inside of it.

The means must be coherent with the ends. A movement that disregards any

of the oppression-systems is bound to be limited and to create a society

based on elitism. Unless the movement is committed to be one that will

be addressing those three issues seriously and not sidestepping it with

“we are all equal” condescending behavior, its range is going to be

limited and it will turn off people that see themselves as not only

working- class, but feel other pressing form of oppression crushing

them.

It is time to reevaluate the movements approach on issues of race,

gender and sexuality — it is good to see there is a movement of people

already working in that direction. It is time for us to have a

revolution in ourselves to change our perception on what a real

liberation of the people means.

I see their faces — their smiling brown faces — and there is nothing of

me in there. We shall build a different world.

Epliogue: Ricardo Flores Magon is Alive in All of Us by Ramiro

“Ramsey” Muniz

“I covered my face with my hands as I was shackled and chained,

beginning three years of solitary confinement in the belly of the beast.

I sat still in pure unconsciousness, neither hearing nor feeling, nor

knowing in the darkness of the dungeons of America, like the deep of the

sea, with no time and no world. In the depths that are timeless and

worldless, it was then that the revolutionary spirit of Ricardo Flores

Magon reached into the depths of my heart
”

Into my second year of solitary confinement, in the mode of darkness, I

was informed by the forcing oppressor that seventy four years ago, our

revolutionary brother Flores Magon had been confined in the same cell.

Even before the latter information, his revolutionary spirits would

appear at any given time or day. Fortunately, with the support of family

and others, I was able to receive various books written on the life,

history and death of Flores Magon. The most vivid and profound statement

has made months before his death here at Leavenworth USP is the

following:

“My dream of beauty and beloved visions of a humanity living in peace,

love and liberty
 will not die with me, while there is on Earth a

painful heart or an eye full of tears. My dreams and visions will live
”

— March 16, 1922

His visions, his dreams and his revolutionary spirituality are very much

alive tonight. Even though I have been condemned by the oppressor to a

death sentence, it is my tonalli (destiny) to continue with the visions,

dreams and liberation of all humanity, especially the oppressed people

of color. It is in the dungeons of the oppressor where I have found the

truth and direction that we as oppressed people must take in order to be

free once again.

During my confinement in the hole, if I would wish to communicate in my

dreams with my brother Flores Magon, I would concentrate for days on his

spirituality and writings. Within a few days, he would appear in my

dreams, not only sharing his inner thoughts, but, most importantly, what

we must do to rise again and remove the chains that our people bear in

the present.

His most profound statement was, “My brother, you must reach into the

ancient past, reach into the roots of our hearts, reach into the

strength of our revolutionary spirituality.” I will never forget how I

would rise from my sleep and immediately begin to write the essence of

our conversations.

Yes, he is very much alive!

Our Mexicano spirituality is alive and throughout all Aztlan and in our

Holy Land (Mexico). In fact, it is more alive than those so-called

leaders who pretend to represent the masses of our people while, at the

same time, compromising and making political deals with the same

oppressor that continues to tighten the noose of the rope of oppression.

In a letter to his attorney, Flores Magon said he would rather die in

prison than abdicate his ideals. “I prefer this to turning my back on

the organizers and having the prison doors opened at the price of my

honor.” Flores Magon wrote. “I will not outlive my captivity, for I am

already old, but when I die, my friends will perhaps inscribe on my

tomb, ‘here lies a dreamer,’ and my enemies, ‘here lies a madman.’ But

no one will be able to stamp the inscription, ‘here lies a coward and

traitor to his ideas.’”

It is our duty and responsibility as liberators to pass on our oral

traditions of struggle, sacrifice and freedom. From the medieval mazorra

of this oppressor, we reach out of the voices of the mountains in

Chiapas, where our brother Marcos continues to liberate our sisters and

brothers from the same oppressor that rules here in America. And in this

world of conflicts, that fire of spirituality continues to rise

regardless of the genocide wrought. Everywhere throughout the world, the

oppressed, people of color, are rising. It seems as if the entire

universe is reaching into its ancient past for the answers of tomorrow.

We of the sixth sun, Mexicanos from Aztlan, have reached and embraced

the enlightenment of our spiritual, cultural and historical pasts for

the last five hundred years. We have lived in a mode of darkness and

ignorance. The oppressor has, with malicious intent, destroyed and/or

refused the right for us to be exposed to the beauty and power of our

ancient past. A race without a history or past is a race of

non-existence.

In conclusion, it is with pride and honor that I share this by Flores

Magon. It represents the purpose of this book on culture, resistance and

anarchism:

“It is necessary to educate our people, to teach them the real causes of

their misery and slavery
 This is why our hands, instead of being armed

with muskets, are armed with pens, a weapon more formidable and far more

feared by tyrants and exploiters.”

— 1916

Presently, we of Aztlanahuac are in the midst of rising, with a power of

resistance and liberation like never before in our history. The silence

has now become our new fire ceremony of liberation, justice and land. We

must all come with clean hearts and be prepared to sacrifice, because

without sacrifice, there will never be freedom.

About the Authors and Interviewees

Author and interviewees in alphabetical order

Kapila is an artist, organizer, writer and poet born in Rio de Janeiro,

Brazil, in January of 1981. Started working with the Centro de Estudos

Libertarios Ideal Peres — CELIP, a anarchist study group, and the

Resistencia Popular (Popular Resistance). Came to the U.S. at the age of

21, and started to get involved in student organizing, joining Students

for Justice, a group of mostly community college based activists, and

was part of the process which created a federation of the different

Students for Justice chapters in the San Jose area (Silicon Valley, in

California). I am part of Silicon Valley De-Bug, a young workers and

artists self-managed media and organizing collective. I joined the IWW

and have been part of the effort of starting a branch in San Jose.

Currently I am working on a book about art and revolution and am part of

the Furious Five anarchist collective in San Jose.

Victoria Law has been a self-identified anarchist since she was sixteen.

Since then, she has participated in various collectives and anarchist

endeavors, learned photography, been published on-line and in print,

made zines, traveled overseas and become a mother. She and her daughter

will be visiting her great-grandmother’s former house in Shanghai in

January 2004 between the Western and the Lunar New Years.

Shawn McDougal is a Black man who’s been an anarchist since before he

even heard the word. He was born and raised in LA, but has spent time

living in New England and abroad (years in Brazil and China, months in

Spain and Argentina). After dropping out of grad school and moving back

to LA in 1997, he’s spent most of his time working as a community and

issue organizer and—most recently—a public school teacher. His dream is

to start a community center that promotes the sharing of resources,

skills, and knowledge across boundaries of race, ethnicity, and class,

and help people learn through experience their power to shape social

reality. TomĂĄs Moniz has been living, loving, fighting, writing,

teaching and parenting three kick ass kids in the bay area for the last

12 years. Comments questions concerns, can go to Moniz at

tom_moniz@riseup.net’

Suneel Mubayi, 18, born in NYC, grew up mostly in New Delhi, India, came

to New York last June after finishing high school in India to study at

Columbia. He started writing poetry and stories at the age of 14, and

studied theatre for two years in school. After initially writing mostly

love and emotional poetry, he began to explore political arenas as

muses, and was inspired by post-9/11 and the war. At some point in time,

around the age of 16, he realized that he wasn’t really a he inside,

despite being birth- assigned female, and Suneel’s political

revolutionization has been closely intertwined with her shedding of

gender boundaries and categorizations. She has since pursued spoken word

performance and theater acting fairly successfully all over NYC and is

learning how to trash the system from the belly of the Ivy League beast.

Ramiro “Ramsey” Muñiz is a political prisoner remembered for his

leadership role during the Chicano Civil Rights Movement in the 1970s.

As an attorney, Muñiz defended the rights of Mexicanos whose

constitutional rights were constantly violated. In 1972 and 1974, Muñiz

was a gubernatorial candidate in Texas for La Raza Unida, a political

party established and developed solely by Mexicanos to articulate an

independent political vision. Muñiz garnered six percent of the vote

and, during the campaign, spoke widely of Mexicano political power and

potential. He is now serving time in Leavenworth. Info on his case visit

his website at

www.freeramsey.com

, or write him at Ramiro R. Muñiz — 40288–115, P.O. Box 1000,

Leavenworth, KS 66048–1000.

Ewuare Osayande (

www.osayande.org

) is a political activist, poet and author of a number of books

including his latest work Black Anti-Ballistic Missives: Resisting

War/Resisting Racism. The former chairperson of the Philadelphia chapter

of the Black Radical Congress, he is the co-founder of P.O.W.E.R.:

People Organized Working to Eradicate Racism. The Quarterly Black Review

has called Osayande “one of Black America’s newest insurgent

intellectuals coming to the table with enough mental firepower to be a

David Walker for our time.” He currently resides in Philadelphia, PA.