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Title: CrimethInc. Convergence Controversy
Author: CrimethInc.
Date: August 2009
Language: en
Topics: CrimethInc., convergences, drama, Anarchist People of Color
Source: https://crimethinc.com/2009/08/03/crimethinc-convergence-controversy and https://crimethinc.com/2009/08/08/more-convergence-accounts

CrimethInc.

CrimethInc. Convergence Controversy

This is a brief statement followed by personal accounts detailing the

events of a controversial disruption that happened at the end of the

CrimethInc. Convergence in Pittsburgh this July. These texts have been

written by some anarchist people of color who participated in the

convergence and were present the night of the disruption. There has been

some discussion about it on the internet, but we hope to offer people

more context from our perspectives about that night. Still, mostly

questions remain about how to proceed. Hopefully at least, these

accounts will provoke honest, open, humble conversations about all of

the issues raised, so that we can figure out how to move forward as

radical communities in struggle.

There is so much ground to cover to convey what happened throughout the

weeklong convergence. Check back soon for further reportbacks about the

rest of the convergence.

Brief Statement

What seemed like an awesome, performative disruption—a reclamation of

space, an expression of anger, an opening up of dialogue—shifted quickly

into something else entirely. At the end of a night of Cabaret at the

CrimethInc. Convergence in late July, about half a dozen

anarchist/autonomist people of color—some who had participated in the

convergence all week and some who came into town just for this

“action”—stormed into a hall full of people, reading a statement about

gentrification and white supremacy, while screaming slogans.

People watched in silence, uncertain of how to respond to such intense

aggression from this small group of friends. With no provocation, the

disrupters** started grabbing people’s backpacks and sleeping bags and

throwing them out into the hallway, under a rallying cry of, “Get the

fuck out of here! Get the fuck out of Pittsburgh! We’re not fucking

kidding!” They cleared people’s bags from the shelves, from off the

ground; they grabbed lamps, chairs, anything they could get their hands

on. Tossing everything out of the room, people’s belongings were dumped

into jumbled piles everywhere. The disrupters screamed that white people

were gentrifying the neighborhood the Convergence was in—neighborhoods

everywhere—and that they wouldn’t stop what they were doing until all of

the white people from the convergence were out of the building, out of

Pittsburgh. It was the middle of the night, and almost everyone had been

staying in that building. With nowhere to go, many people started to

leave.

The disrupters became increasingly aggressive with the people in the

room. They got up in people’s faces, and yelled at them to leave, “Go

back to Europe! I’m sick of looking at your white fucking face!”

Provoked into fear and panic, many people left the room, tears streaming

down their faces. Others responded with a variety of racist comments

demonstrating just how far a lot of people have to go in terms of

understanding white supremacy and privilege. The disrupters used thinly

veiled intimidation and threats, like screaming, “Get the fuck out of

here! I am not a pacifist!” while pulling bags out of people’s hands;

they muscled past the people who tried to block the flow of backpacks

and purses out into the hallway, thrusting the belongings into people’s

heads, backs, and other parts of their bodies.

In an attempt to deescalate the situation, people eventually started

encouraging everyone to leave. Convergence attendees poured out onto the

sidewalks, and started organizing alternate housing and carpools. Many

people’s belongings were still lost and strewn all over the convergence

space, but with the police arriving to investigate the scene, everyone

had to go somewhere. By nearly 2 am, all of the people who did not

identify as people of color—and all those too traumatized by the

aggression of the disrupters—were out of the upstairs, yet the

disrupters still refused to leave. Some people of color from the

convergence called a caucus with the disrupters, but after an

unproductive attempt at dialogue, finally, the disrupters left.

Apparently, a few friends of the disrupters had known about the planned

disruption beforehand, but afterwards, everyone apologetically explained

that they had expected the disruption to have a radically different

character. Some people mentioned the feminist disruption of an anarchist

gathering in the UK where women hijacked a meeting to screen a movie

about feminism when describing what they had imagined. We certainly hope

people would have intervened if they had foreseen the aggression and

violence the disrupters chose to employ.

—from people of color who attended the convergence and oppose the

disruption

the only way they referenced themselves was as people from APOC

(anarchist people of color). However, they were certainly not acting on

behalf of all APOCers. And like with any decentralized group structure,

when a few people do fucked up things under a banner that many people

feel affinity with, those people risk delegitimizing the whole movement

rather than bearing the responsibility for their own actions. To be

clear, this disruption was NOT an APOC action.

Account 1

It seemed really complicated for many people of color who were not a

part of the disruption to sort out their feelings about it that night

because it was all too easy to relate to the legitimate anger and

distress that seemed to motivate the disrupters. I talked with many

other people of color that night about our own feelings of isolation,

the pain of our own invisibility organizing in anarchist spaces

dominated by people with more privilege. We talked about the intensity

of the white supremacy we have faced in radical circles, and the serious

need to address it. But we also talked about the ways the kind of

coercive actions taken by the disrupters could obscures those realities,

making it harder to actually work through this stuff with our potential

allies

For me that night, though, it was simple to sort out what side I was on.

Watching the disrupters tear apart people’s belongings, it was clear I

had to intervene. Watching male-bodied disrupters scream into the faces

of women with tears streaming down their cheeks, I had no choice but to

put my body in between them. Really, watching the disrupters of any

gender bring their rage upon my white friends of any gender, it was

impossible not to get involved.

I am a small, woman of color. I have been assaulted—physically,

sexually, emotionally. My whole life. The hatred in the voices of the

disrupters as they screamed the absurd, “Go back to Europe,” was simply

too reminiscent of the xenophobic slurs I’ve heard since childhood. The

way they manipulated and controlled individuals and groups, screaming

threats and rampaging through the room, felt just like life with my

abusive ex-housemate. I will never watch that kind of violence and do

nothing. Even if nothing that I did that night was useful, it was

important to me that the disrupters could feel my opposition; it was

important to me to resist.

Because people wanted to take seriously the concerns that the disrupters

brought up, it also seemed really complicated for white people to figure

out how to engage with them. Eventually, following the lead of people of

color, some white folks started to passively resist the disrupters by

blocking the doorways and removing stolen bags from the disrupters’

hands, but because the disrupters were anarchists, comrades, friends, no

one wanted it to be a needless confrontation.

But the disrupters made it clear to me that they were there for a

confrontation. “This is war,” they told me. “People get hurt in

revolution.” “We are not afraid, and we are not pacifists!” For some

reason, though, the disrupters had decided that their conflict was only

with the white people at the Convergence. They consistently screamed at

every white person to leave, while leaving the people of color alone,

and so the people of color left in the space were uniquely positioned to

try to deal with the mess. The disrupters tried to argue that it wasn’t

about us—it wasn’t about the people of color left in the space. But for

me, if you fuck with people I love, even if you never do anything to me,

than, yes, your fight is also with me.

I spent much of that night trying to get the disrupters to leave. I

tried to talk to them. I tried to stop them from destroying people’s

personal belongings. I put my body in between them and other

people—tried to stop the yelling and screaming, faces inches away from

each other. I tried to stop the fight. I tried to physically remove

individual disrupters from that space. I tried desperately to stop the

fight. That night I felt so alone. So isolated. It was clear to me that

I needed to resist the abuse that was happening. But I didn’t want to be

fighting these people that were trying to say everything I also needed

to say. I should have been standing along side the disrupters, we should

have been speaking our fury together, but they made that impossible. The

disrupters made no space for dialogue. They made no space for me—or

other people of color who needed room for their rage. They told us all

that we could talk later. When everything was over. But even now,

everything is far from over.

We tried to reason with the disrupters, to get them just to leave. I

asked them how they felt about how shitty they made people feel, and

they quickly defended that they “gave people warning” to leave. (That

warning was them entering the room yelling and throwing people’s bags

out.) Another disrupter responded, “Don’t you support queers bashing

back?” And I told them, I’m all for queer people—anyone,

really—attacking their attackers, but that I didn’t equate that with

indiscriminately attacking a room full of strangers. I asked them how

they felt about all of the women, queer people, trans people, and

otherwise marginalized people they were pushing out onto the street in

the middle of the night. The disrupters responded that they’d be safe

wherever they had to go because of their white faces. Back and forth, we

tried to get the disrupters to respond genuinely, but they gave up only

rhetoric and nonsense.

After literally hours of this, after every bag was cleared out of the

room, after almost every person was gone and the disrupters were just

standing inside of one of the doorways, refusing to leave, I totally

broke. With nothing left to do, I told them all to get out. I told them

it was over, it was time to go. They just looked at me. I had been

saying this all night, but this time I needed it to be real, I needed it

to be done. I was done. I went behind the door that two of them were

leaning against to hold open and started pushing with all my strength to

close it. It closed halfway, and then the struggle really began. I don’t

remember everything that happened. The disrupters were screaming at me.

I was screaming at them. Tears were screaming down my face; every muscle

in my body cried out. At some point other people of color started

helping me push on the door. Everything hurt. Everything was pain.

Everything was broken.

That night, you broke me.

I am crying still as I write this one week later. All of the complicated

pain and heartbreak won’t let go. I want to be talking about white

supremacy in our movements. I don’t want to be talking about you. I

don’t want to be watching us self-destruct, taking sides, falling apart.

I want to be talking about the ways our privilege and internalized

oppression make us hurt each other. I guess that’s what this is, but it

all feels so needless, so thoughtless. I don’t want to deal with your

shit just because you didn’t think through your actions, because you

thought that everyone would just come back in after you left, that all

of the panic attacks and pain could just be erased, that when people’s

hearts stopped racing they wouldn’t feel the lingering fear.

Somehow, there was a moment of stillness when everyone else was gone,

and some people of color called for a conversation with all of us, the

disrupters and all of the other people of color that were left. We

closed the doors to that upstairs room, and everything was quiet for a

moment. Folks of color started trying to ask the disrupters about why

they did what they did, trying to reason with them. It felt pointless to

me. The disrupters were spouting the same rhetoric and absurd defenses

they had been saying all night. They expressed feeling good about

displacing people for the night because they wanted people to get a

taste of how gentrification displaces people permanently. When I asked

how they felt about being a force of domination, just like

gentrification, they responded only that gentrification is a greater

force of domination than they were that night. I’m glad at least that

the disrupters were less of a force of domination than gentrification,

but that sets the bar pretty low for how we interact with one another.

Even oppressed groups of people can dominate people with more societal

privilege than they have.

People also brought up how dangerous and irresponsible it was for the

disrupters to do something that could bring so much extra police

attention to this political event. With the high level of surveillance

of the convergence, the police certainly could have taken advantage of

this opportunity to raid the space or otherwise intervene. Perhaps that

didn’t happen only because with some kind of intelligence on the inside,

it was clear that the disrupters were doing a better job of creating

division, panic, and controversy than the police or Feds could have.

Someone later said to me that if the police had raided the space, it

probably would have brought people together against the police, but this

kind of drama will ensure schisms far wider-reaching and longer-running

than anything the police can do to us.

In this conversation with the disrupters, we also tried to talk more

specifically about why they did what they did. From this vantage point,

I honestly think that the rhetoric about gentrification was somewhat of

a ruse for the aggression. None of the disrupters were from Pittsburgh.

Three of them had arrived that day and not spent any time in that

neighborhood. They claimed that the neighborhood didn’t want the

convergence there, but in our conversation, they couldn’t offer a single

story about talking to a neighbor with complaints. Whereas I had dozens

of interactions with people in that neighborhood who were ambivalent to

excited about the convergence being there—and I know many others did,

too. I met neighbors who were curious about what we were doing,

neighbors who offered us food, neighbors who helped out with copwatch,

and neighbors who came to the convergence space to hang out.

When further pressed for information about why they were taking that

action, the disrupters said that they came there only because they were

asked to do this by “Pittsburgh APOC.” According to one APOCista in

Pittsburgh, there isn’t an active APOC group there, but it seems like a

couple of individual APOC folks likely asked the group to come. When

asked again to try to defend why they were acting they way they were,

the disrupters explicitly said that anyone could hold “Pittsburgh APOC”

accountable for their actions. The disrupters said also that they were

acting with the full support of Chicago and Philly APOC, as well as

people in Milwaukee.

I want to make it abundantly clear that supporting this “action” is not

just supporting a militant action taken by people of color; it is

supporting abuse. Using intimidation, threats, controlling people’s

belongings and their movements is violence. The violence people of color

feel in their daily lives and in anarchist circles is real and

legitimate, but that in no way justifies this indiscriminant use of

violence among friends and potential allies. It’s like a woman, who

distraught at the expression of patriarchy in her every day life, forces

herself on her lover. It is fucking abuse, and we shouldn’t ignore it

just because it’s complicated.

As for what happens next, I’m not sure. The way the disrupters acted is

a totally unacceptable way to treat comrades or potential comrades, and

the only model I have for sorting out how to move forward through this

is some kind of perpetrator accountability process—although, that kind

of accountability can only happen within communities of friends. That

night, the disrupters said they wouldn’t call any of the white

anarchists there comrades, and maybe that is something they want to

stick by. For now, I know that I don’t want to organize with or interact

with those disrupters until some kind of serious accountability process

can take place.

That night was intensely triggering for many people. For me. For hours,

I was under this consistent, medium level attack. I came out of that

night with cuts and bruises, torn clothing and trauma that one week

later, still won’t relinquish my body back to me. I don’t get to be

neutral or pretend it didn’t happen. I hope we all take this seriously.

—monica

Account 2

I am puertorican. I too am fed up with the subtly alienating sub-culture

of CrimethInc. and many other radical spaces with their ignored

hierarchies and cold, individualist behaviors. If it were entirely up to

me and if I had no one to care about in the convergence, I would’ve

probably grabbed bags just the same and screamed just as loud. But

liberation is not that simple, and thank goodness it isn’t, or else a

flashy vanguard might’ve been all it took for the oppressed all along.

And we’re definitely not into that vanguard bull after seeing the harm

it’s done (
right?).

Watching the disruption unfold and the split widen in the main room was

like watching my own family fight with each other. I don’t know which

side I should take or if there are sides to take, and that made me feel

all the more powerless. You’d think that watching fellow APOC act in

autonomy and against white supremacy would make me feel emboldened to

take further action
 but I felt I couldn’t do anything else but to sit

there frozen and try to take all the surfaced conflicts in by force. I

don’t know if it’s just a trigger of mine to freeze up in these

situations, or if I was just plain afraid to join anyone. Some people’s

faces looked like that of white tourists back in PR who just got their

luxurious vacation ruined. Some of the disruptors were completely

ignoring the triggers the violent behaviors in the space set off for

many with an abused past.

At a point where I was feeling the crack too much, I pleaded to speak to

a disruptor face-to-face. The reasoning for the action was much of what

I expected: fed up APOC who want to teach a lesson the loud way. As I

listened on, it started to sound like some individual disruptors weren’t

all that sure about their action after all. While on the sidewalk a

squad car raced by with sirens blasting and sped off. I thought to

myself that the infiltrators must be laughing their asses off about this

back at the station. I spoke then with a Latino friend that came back on

the bike who was glad that finally people were taking this convergence

seriously. Yea, true, it did wipe out a lot of the rose tint, but it

could also create a whole new blindfold.

After the conflict settled down, the disruptors were outside and I

confronted the loudest of them (at least) who explained they were acting

as individuals (so much for their talk about white people oppressing the

nearby neighborhood, apparently they weren’t speaking on their behalf)

and talked about some history of these POC groups and mentioned a very

troubling term: “anarcho-nationalist”. The fact that “anarcho” and

anything that means could ever be related to “nationalist” is confusing

enough, but I find the simple upholding of “nationalist” to be fucked

up. Puerto Rico’s nationalist groups, though greatly mythologized, have

their own history of very, very fucked up shit in the name of national

power for the “puertorican” so many people still revere. From Albizu

Campos’s correspondence with Nazis to constant and still going talks of

“cleansing” the puertorican culture (whatever our culture is, anyways,

esos son otros veinte pesos), nationalist goals didn’t exactly conjure

the liberated, autonomous communities we all strive for.

I talked with people of all sorts of contrasting experiences and

conversations during the disruption but there’s a very unique one that I

wish to share. Shortly after finally calming down and walking without

trembling, a male-bodied person who I had only met briefly before

approached me. They asked for advice. They were part of the organizing

for the disruption but completely changed their mind at a moment they

felt no identity. The person was of mixed-race. They didn’t identify as

a person of color though because of their experiences of having just as

much privilege as any white person but in other ways, like class and

gender. And their skin was light, and complexion could be judged as

white as well. Did that mean they were gentrifying and oppressing just

as much as white people? Neither of us knew an easy answer. But to me,

it does show that gentrification isn’t as simple as just race, as I

myself have many privileges that could be easily ignored were I to take

a quasi-nationalist stance based on race (I am male-bodied,

middle-class, and my Americanized upbringing in the colony, including

knowing the language well, has made it easier to be “accepted” in North

American “culture”). And also, we need to be constantly evaluating what

it means to be a “person of color” and what role do both, our apparent

and our identity race/races play as oppressor or as the oppressed.

On my ride back from the convergence, I thought to myself of how it

could’ve ended if there were no disruption. Maybe internalized white

supremacy would’ve gone ignored. Maybe, after all, we could’ve finished

the conversations in something productive and concrete. We’ll never know

and it’s actually unproductive to think of whether or not it was

necessary. It made cracks and it create some bonds while shattering

others. It got a ball rolling or at least made the ball bigger on

confronting our own spaces’ racism. It hurt some people and caused some

damage that a mere “sorry” won’t help. It brought out some fucked up

statements (some random person claimed “you can’t kick me out, this is

MY space”
). If anything, let’s not ignore what discussions need to

happen face-to-face, whatever side we were on. No causing a mess within

own friends and then leaving the city like nothing happened (isn’t that

what we blame so many corporations and cops so much for?). I want to

speak with all y’all and make honest connections. Anarchist people of

color are all I have, because we reflect the complexities I need to

confront so badly and need help with, in a world that enforces a single

“normality”. And I sure as hell don’t just wanna impose some other kind

of simple and separatist “normality”.

Entre amor y lucha,

Luis hacktiffler[at]riseup.net

Account 3

There is a lot to be said as far as I am concerned around the disruption

that happened during the CrimethInc. Convergence, but maybe this is not

the forum in which to say it all. This is a short (relative to

everything I want to say) account of my experience around the

disruption.

When the disruption started, I didn’t really know how to respond. In its

beginning it seemed that the disruption was a performative protest

against issues involving gentrification around the convergence, a more

rebellious show that is a part of the cabaret, something that was done

more to make a point than anything else. Very soon it became clear to me

that the disruption was aimed towards something else entirely.

In the days before the disruption I was emotionally exhausted by several

mediation processes I was involved in, and specifically by work around

gentrification. When the disruption started I had no emotional capacity

to take in any of what was going on. I stood there, watching friends try

to stop the disruption, taking bags and belongings out of the

disrupters’ hands, without the ability to react or to get involved.

Someone approached me and asked me to get involved, to do something, but

I couldn’t. If I am really honest, even though I was protected by my

identity as a person of color, I did not feel safe. I had a personal

relationship with some of the disrupters, but not with the two most

aggressive ones. I actually felt that an intervention from my side might

end with a punch to my face.

A white friend of mine was sitting in the corner crying, and I went to

them and hugged them, trying to give them support. Their tears and

sadness brought my emotions to the surface. I felt overwhelmed by the

sadness that came with the recognition that apparently we cannot all

just get along. Even though we are a part of a movement, it seems like

some of us feel like aggression is the only way to get results from our

comrades, and there is something so heartbreaking about that.

While me and a friend were comforting another friend, one of the

disrupters came to us and asked if we were going to leave. The other

comforter replied rather cynically, “Well, I am Colombian, is it ok for

me to stay?” The disrupter, not noticing the tone in which the words

were said, replied that we could stay. When I think about the disruption

I keep going back to that moment. There is something so ironic in the

disrupter approaching a group of mostly people of color with a request

to leave. When you are at war, maybe there is no space for

distinctions—and so people of color turn into white as you assume

everyone around you is the enemy. And even if we weren’t people of

color, it seems so heartless to approach people in tears you caused in

order to promote your interests. At that moment the disrupters made it

clear, some vague political idea was more important than us, the people

who sat with them in gentrification workshops all week.

A few moments later one of my white friends approached me and offered me

a hug. I don’t remember exactly what they said to me, but there was

something in their words that felt liberating. Through the whole

disruption I felt so dehumanized, as if I was erased, completely

unpresent and unrecognized. The contradiction that such a friendly

moment offered helped me suddenly notice the dehumanization I felt for

so long. This was a bitter-sweet experience.

Soon after I went downstairs. There I was again greeted by many

concerned friends offering hugs and asking what I needed. I left the

space a little later, I felt drained and worried and wanted to be in a

space that felt safe.

The day after I felt very concerned about going back to the space. I was

worried that the conversion about yesterday’s events will focus mostly

on the fucked up way in which the disruption took place, and not enough

on the feelings that motivated it. To me the disruption was mostly a

wake up call, and I wanted others to take it as such. Happily, I think

that most of the particles of conversations that have reached my ears

were focused on the breach of trust people of color felt towards their

white allies.

After the really really free market we all met and went through an

accountability process around some racist reactions some white people

had towards the disruption. The process caused me to feel a lot of

anxiety. In the moments before it I took many emotional supporting

tinctures, and drank tea. I was scared of how I would feel about the

things that would be said, and was worried I would not have the capacity

to contain myself. The beginning of the process was very frustrating for

me. There was a lot of discussion around how the process should go, what

people can or cannot say, etc. To me, a lot of the discussion seemed

like an attempt to evade the actual accountability that needed to be

taken. My feelings about the conversation shifted completely when we

actually started going through the list of racist reactions to the

disruption. I was surprised by the fact that people actually admitted

when they did not know why something was wrong or offensive. Things were

not just brushed under the carpet, but each act was examined by the

whole community and explained. The strongest part of the process was

when people actually stood up and identified themselves as the ones who

took some of the offensive actions, and recognized their mistakes in

front of the whole community. It felt like a very deep process started

in that conversation, one that will hopefully have long term affects on

our community as a whole and on each of us as individuals. To me, this

proves that we have the potential to protect each other and fight for

one another. I can get you to think about my oppressions without

breaking you.

I guess that the main things I am left with from this experience are

questions about the integrity and honesty that we have towards one

another. Throughout the convergence I was closely involved with some of

the attempts to confront the convergence’s gentrifying effect on the

city. Often, it seemed like those attempts were very constructive and

successful. After hours of conversations on this subject, I felt like we

were getting somewhere. From my post-disruption perspective, I am not

too sure what to think about those conversations now. Some of the

disrupters participated in those conversations, and I am left to wonder

what their intentions were in doing so. A part of me fears that they

used those conversations in order to have a one-way conversation, in

order to educate others as to their feelings around gentrification

without really trying to come to a resolution around the problem. I want

to believe in the honesty of the dialogue we had, because doubting it

will have heartbreaking consequences for me, but at the same time, I do

not want my naiveté to help anyone get off the hook too easily.

I think that I am standing in a unique position towards what has

happened. I have close personal relationships with the convergence

organizers and some CrimethInc. writers, and at the same time I am a

person of color who understands the rage of the disrupters and often

feels disappointed with white “allies.” In many ways, I feel I am in the

middle of this. Throughout the convergence I heard some of the

disrupters (as well as others) criticize CrimethInc., critiques I shared

as well. At the same time I was surprised. My experience with having the

exact same conversations with individuals who are involved in

CrimethInc. or the convergence have always been positive. I’ve always

found listening ears to my difficulties, and have always received

invitations to step in and create space for what I want and need. When I

tried to convey these feelings to others they replied that they would

not participate in a dialogue because it would be fruitless. This

despair is actually based on legitimate past experiences, and it is so

depressing.

I hope that people will take the disruption as a sign as to how people

of color specifically feel in this community. There is a huge breach of

trust when it comes to how we respond to white supremacy. So many times

in the past this community has not responded to abusive or oppressive

individuals, and now many of us feel like other anarchists do not have

our back. How are we supposed to stand together against the threat of

prison time or pepper spray, when we don’t stand together in front of

the mirror? I need this community to have a very clear zero tolerance

policy towards oppression. I need us all to make it very clear to each

other that we are in this together. I expect nothing less from us.

I hope the disrupters know what they’ve done. I hope they understand

they have torn this community apart. And now, I do not know how to go

back home, how to deal with friends who are traumatized, how to think

about my identity as an anarchist person of color, what to do with one

of the disrupter’s phone number that is still in my phone book, how to

deal with “friends” who have supported your action. Now, I am not

traumatized, because this fucked up shit has broken my heart to a point

where I have no space to be traumatized. I have no space to feel

anything. Our identity as people of color is meaningless when your

actions bring tears to our eyes. Maybe it will seem rude or

inappropriate, but I have but one thing to say: fuck you.

Maybe you should consider the struggle as a two-way road. For me the

disruption is a wake up call to how we communicate with each other as a

community, around white supremacy as well as other issues. We need to

cut each other some slack and take more leaps of faith. We are all a

part of a common struggle for liberation, and maybe we need to trust

that others will be interested in hearing what we have to say and go

through an accountability process with us when needed. It is something

that is hard to do, but assuming that other anarchists are fundamentally

on our side will help us create a stronger community. The alternative is

what brought the disrupters to play an abusive role towards others.

Admitting that we do not share common interests and in fact do not

function as a community is something I am not willing to even consider

at this moment.

—L.

Account 4

The account below is a personal, partial, and situated perspective on

the disruption that took place at the 2009 CrimethInc Convergence. I

claim to be speaking on behalf of no one except myself, although I am

speaking from the position of a queer woman of color who attended the

convergence, participated in the APOC caucus that took place at the

convergence, and was present during and after the disruption. Here is my

account of what happened. Although I cannot claim to be more “right”

than anyone else, I can try to offer an honest perspective.

About a week has passed and here I sit, trying to sort through notes,

thoughts and feelings, but feeling little motivation to pull it all

together because what gets written here will just be one piece amidst

the War of Representation which has already begun. But something needs

to be said; because there are people out there claiming to be speaking

on behalf of APOC and people of color in general, and it needs to be

known that they are not speaking on behalf of me. It needs to be known

that although I share the rage, frustration, and hurt felt by the

“disruptors,” I do not agree with their actions. Not only because white

people were hurt and forced onto the streets without warning, but

because other people of color were hurt and felt silenced by the

disruptors’ actions.

I can’t talk about the disruption without first talking about the shit I

was feeling and all the things that happened leading up to disruption. I

woke up on the same morning as the disruption thinking, I need to get

out of Pittsburgh. Something about the space felt alienating—I didn’t

know many people there, conversations often felt dishonest and

polarized, and I was often the only woman of color in various workshops.

I felt small and unmotivated to speak. It would be unfair to say that an

atmosphere of hostility toward people of color is what caused this

feeling. Although I did hear racist comments get thrown around by a

small group of ignorant folk, it was largely the result of being

outnumbered by white boys, and feeling like there was no place or entry

point for my perspective.

The morning of the disruption I sat waiting for a discussion on cultural

appropriation to begin. I sat next to another person of color, who later

was a participant in the disruption. They engaged me in conversation and

we exchanged contact information. It felt good, especially after feeling

invisible for much of the convergence. When they asked me how I was

feeling at the convergence, I started crying and quickly left the room.

Later that day the APOC caucus met. The discussion revolved mainly

around the issue of gentrification, and racism/alienation in the radical

community. Toward the end of caucus I started crying again, and walked

back to the convergence space with another woman of color. We had an

awesome conversation, and she asked me if I wanted to be the MC at the

Cabaret, which was the event happening that evening. At dinner I talked

briefly with another person from the APOC caucus, who later was a

participant in the disruption. Although an action/intervention had been

planned, nothing was mentioned to other APOCers during the caucus. A few

people from Philly, who were not at the caucus, met in private with a

few people at the convergence who were in on the plan, but other APOCers

were intentionally excluded.

So I was one of the MCs at the Cabaret, the event that was taking place

when the disruption happened. When the last planned act finished, the

outburst happened. The disruptors started yelling at white people to get

the fuck out, screaming “We’re not fucking kidding! We are not

pacifists!” A person of color from the caucus came up to me and

whispered, “Are you with us? Help us get people’s bags out of here.”

This is what really pissed me off. What the fuck was I supposed to do?

These people did not attempt to talk to me at all, left no room for

dialogue with other folk of color and yet expected us to join their

action. When this person asked me to join I felt pressured to choose

allegiances. In some ways, I did feel like it was my “duty” as a person

of color to participate in the “eviction,” but at the same time I knew

that what they were doing was fucked up—that the indiscriminate eviction

of and aggression toward white people (many of whom were survivors of

abuse and queer, trans, and womyn identified) was not okay. So I did not

participate. But part of me felt guilty. Because I shared their rage

toward racism, but felt alienated by their tactics and exclusionary

approach.

It should be known that none of the people who actually participated in

the eviction were from Pittsburgh. Yet the rhetoric used by the

disruptors was a rhetoric of extension, and by this I mean that people

who declared war on the white people at the convergence were claiming to

speak on behalf of “the neighborhood” and people of color in general. I

felt infuriated by the sense of entitlement and arrogance of the

language used during the eviction, because when you speak on behalf of

other people you essentially silence them. And I know from talking to

other people of color that many other perspectives were silenced by the

action.

Although the “smack a white boy part 2” statement released by the

disruptors framed the others as the aggressors, what actually took place

was a two-way aggression instigated by this small group. Emotions were

fucking high. Yelling, pushing, and offensive comments were exchanged

back and forth between white people and the disruptors, people of color

and the disruptors, white people and white people. The chaos went on for

what must have been a couple hours. Eventually, it was just a few white

people and a group of people of color from both sides. One of the last

white people in the room was an arrogant white boy who was acting cocky,

making inappropriate comments, and sitting shirtless on a chair. I

yelled at him to get the fuck out of the room, and he left.

Some fighting took place between people of color and disruptors and they

made it clear that their war was not with us (other folk of color). They

told us we could stay, but when they were asked to leave by a woman of

color as some fighting was happening, those who were people of color not

participating in the action were called “Obama,” a race traitor, and

accused of siding with the oppressors. One mixed person was accused of

siding with “the part of him that was a colonizer.”

The conflict among people of color was starting to really wear me down

emotionally. Both sides did not want to talk. I started to cry as people

were pushing on both sides of a door and asked if we could sit down and

have honest conversation about what was happening. A few of the

disruptors knew from the caucus how alienated I had felt that day, but I

made it clear that I felt equally alienated by their actions. I could

tell by the look on the faces of the disruptors that they genuinely felt

bad about this, that their intention was not to hurt other people of

color. When I asked them why they excluded myself and others from

discussion about the action, one person said “We didn’t tell X and X

because we knew they wouldn’t approve, and we didn’t tell you because we

didn’t know if you’d be with us.” This approach and the intentional

exclusion of people who may disagree seemed suspiciously vanguardist to

me, especially when acting on behalf of APOC.

When participant and non-participant people of color finally sat down to

talk, the first thing I asked was, “Is anyone here actually from

Pittsburgh?” Sadly, not one person was. Here we were, arguing about the

feelings of a community that was not ours, and I wondered, why do we

feel entitled to speak and act on behalf of a neighborhood we are not

from? The whole thing felt embarrassing and insincere.

But that’s not to minimize the issue of gentrification. What kind of

impact would a 6-day convergence have on a neighborhood? How did the

neighborhood residents feel about the outsider presence? I imagine the

response was varied and incapable of being reduced simply to positive or

negative. When I walked around I smiled and spoke with people, one

person offered me help as I was fixing my bicycle, another person asked

me if we’d be coming back next year. But who knows, maybe my personal

positive interactions with locals was the result of also being a person

of color who doesn’t look particularly punk. I know there were also

concerns raised about increased police presence, and this is definitely

a legitimate concern. But a meaningful and productive response to the

issue of gentrification is not one sheathed in dishonestly and dogma.

Over a week later I sit here contemplating the significance of it all,

besides feeling slightly traumatized and drained. I feel somewhat

disillusioned with our capability as people of color, as

anarchists/anti-authoritarians/autonomists, to speak from a place of

honesty and not ideology, to act on an ethic of care and not

entitlement, to let our rage be known without alienating the people we

claim to be fighting for. I feel angry about what took place (both the

disruption and the response of some white people), confused about my

allegiances, but ultimately, I can’t hate the people who participated in

the disruption. Because these are the same people who had reached out to

me earlier that day as I sat alone feeling invisible, the same people

I’ve talked to at other APOC caucuses, the same people who share my

disdain for white supremacy, the same people I will probably be fighting

with in the future. But there needs to be accountability taken for how

their actions rendered other people of color invisible, and hurt both

ally white folk and people of color.

—Jackie bitte_ein_kuss@yahoo.com

Account 5

The disruption of the crimethinc convergence is, at the very least, a

complicated issue. There are some very legitimate issues raised by the

disruptors: the level of permissiveness and lack of internal critique or

review surrounding matters of racism, racial privilege, and white

supremacy within the anarchist movement for one. On the other hand,

there is also the aggressive, impertinent, and peremptory character of

the disruption.

The disruptors stated clearly and repeatedly that they were not

interested in conversation, negotiation, or mediation; and they issued

no demands except the immediate dispersal of everyone present. Even in

their own statement after the fact they offer only a rambling account of

what they did and why they chose this course of action, which

demonstrates a marked lack of clear thinking other than creating

controversy and spectacle.

Despite claims that “the convergence was ended effectively and

efficiently” the scheduled events resumed the next morning and people

slept in the building the next evening. In terms of effect on the

surrounding neighborhood the disruption was only effective in creating a

brief mob scene in front of the building and an increase in police

activity in the middle of the night on day five of a seven-day

convergence.

In recent conversations with a friend who considers himself a “member”

of APOC since 2003, he explained to me that APOC was always supposed to

be people of color organizing in non-authoritarian fashions within their

own communities—not engaging white people or taking on the role of

“racism police” (his words). The disruptors’ interest in not only having

the eviction be a physical confrontation but claiming it as a

revolutionary action betrays their purported disinterest in the

attention of white anarchists.

I was as torn in the midst of the disruption as I am now wondering

whether my voice has a legitimate place or value in this discussion. I

have always identified as Nicaraguan, as I have always been aware of the

privilege gained from my white skin. This placed me in a peculiar

position as individuals walked around the room on the night of the

eviction singling others out and yelling in their faces “Why aren’t you

leaving?” I wondered whether it was better to aid in deescalating the

situation by leaving or to stay on principle in order to demonstrate

that the situation was not, in a variety of ways, as black and white as

it was being framed. When the question was leveled at me I heard the

words “I’m Nicaraguan, does that count?” leave my mouth and I decided to

stay.

While I was trying to convince a particularly belligerent white male to

leave I was chastised for even engaging him in discussion. I walked over

to where people who knew each other, or at the very least were friendly

acquaintances, had been forced on to either side of an argument.

Initially the disruptors were using grandiose language claiming to be

the voice of APOC, the entire neighborhood, and all gentrified

neighborhoods; essentially representing a lot more than they probably

had agency to discuss. When challenged about their right to

representation they would fall back on the explanation of “autonomy”

whenever they felt backed in to a corner. This clearly illustrated the

absence of a logical foundation for the “action.” At this point I left

feeling completely frustrated and helpless to improve the situation.

The next day there was a meeting for people to come and discuss what had

happened. The meeting, though necessary, was frustrating for a variety

of reasons. Most of the white people who had made the most egregiously

offensive statements had opted not to attend the meeting, and missed the

discussions and explanations of why those comments had been hurtful. A

lot of time was spent painstakingly creating a record of what had

happened and only an hour at the end was spent with an eye to the

future.

I remain very upset and angered by defensive racist comments made during

the eviction. I should have known better than to have trusted the level

of understanding of privilege professed by some of the white people

present. If anything can be gained from this experience it is the

knowledge that as an aspiring counterculture we are much further behind

in the depth of our discussion of racism (and many other forms of

oppression) than is acceptable. We’re left with a lot of the same

problems that radical communities have been attempting to address for

decades. How can we foster a community that enables people to

comfortably address instances of racism in a productive manner? How can

we create and demand accountability for institutions as well as

individuals?

Situations like these are unfortunate because they force many people to

choose sides when they would rather not. There are clear and critical

ways of engaging with each other around issues of racism, sexism,

heteronormativity, etc. This was not one of them. Hopefully we can avoid

the steps backward in all directions that our current situation invites.

Hopefully we can have discussion instead of division.

— welch

Account 6

It took me awhile to put this together, but here is my account and

response:

APOC Caucus

I attended the caucus this year, and had been a part of the APOC

caucuses at both the Athens ’07 and the Milwaukee ’08 CrimethInc.

Convergence. Like many of the organizing volunteers that year, I had

been distracted from the convergence by dramatic dynamics in my personal

life and the anxiety of having such a large gathering in a city. I had

originally made the call for an APOC caucus, and put it on the workshop

schedule. Sistah Souljah approached me about changing the time to

something that would work better for their schedule, and I agreed. They

moved it to the end of the day on Friday.

When the time came around for the caucus, I was overcome with all of the

things I wanted to talk about. I was looking forward to the opportunity

to discuss things with my peers-of-color, and had rushed to eat some

food before dinner, should the discussion run late. I missed the first

few minutes of the meeting because of that, and had missed the agenda

discussion. When I arrived at the circle with a companion and fellow

organizer, the group was sitting in a circle listening to Otto read a

statement from the gentrification workshop that had gone on earlier in

the convergence. After they were done, a report of the entire discussion

was passed around, each member of the caucus was expected to read part

of the dialogue. Essentially, we reenacted the conversation that

happened during the gentrification workshop. Every time someone read

something that someone had said that had implications of socialized

racism, a few members of the caucus would scoff or chuckle. At first, I

felt like people were taking the opportunity to decompress, but I slowly

began to feel as if certain members of the circle were trying to

stimulate this sort of response. I was frustrated that we were spending

so much time accelerating our frustration with the whiteness of the

space, and no time discussing how it was affecting us and especially

take advantage of having a safe place to do that within the caucus. I

tried to take a time out from the reading to ask if everyone wanted to

use this time to discuss this. Otto shook their head assertively, saying

that the group had already come to that decision. I looked around and

didn’t see anyone that looked particularly excited about reading Otto’s

gentrification notes for the entire caucus, and shortly thereafter

people started sharing their experience. Several people broke down to

explain how isolating the space had been. Otto attempted to characterize

CrimethInc. as a force of white supremacy in the way they depicted the

Rolling Thunder project. I’m assuming that they didn’t know that two

APOCers in the circle work on that project regularly. My opportunity to

open up and discuss things I had been holding on to for months, waiting

for this particular group of friends and acquaintances to ask for help

sorting out things that had been going on for me in my life as an

anarchist. The caucus broke for dinner. I didn’t return to the second

half, I didn’t feel like I had the space to make proposals to the

agenda. It was clear that some of the APOCers present had an agenda of

their own.

The Disruption

Screaming began in the back of the room. It was timely; the open-mic

style Cabaret had just ended its roster and the floor was opened for

anyone who wanted the space. My ears heard the language from the open

letter, and I knew it had something to do with the APOC caucus that had

happened earlier in the day. When I turned to look at who was doing all

the screaming, my heart sunk. Thinking it was a skit prepared by some of

the tearful APOC caucus-goers, I thought to myself: “Finally! Something

prepared and practiced to call this shit out.” Then I saw Jordan.

I had come to appreciate Jordan’s attitude during APOC conversations

that we had shared and caucused. Last year, In Milwaukee, Jordan swore

to never attend another CrimethInc. Convergence, or anything else

organized by white, able-bodied, cis-gendered, males again. I respected

Jordan’s decision then, and felt empowered knowing that one could

continue to be an anarchist and not have to be subjected to the

socializations and out-right oppression that linger and evolve in

anarchist spaces. I felt empowered knowing that one could do that; when

they lost their patience, if it hurt them to go on forgiving ignorance

and oppression, if they were hurt irreconcilably—knowing that there was

a back door I could jump through should the time come when I just

couldn’t take it anymore, when what I perceive as being good reasons to

organize with other anarchists and attempt to work out our differences

and privileges in the process aren’t worth the isolation of experience,

the loneliness. Most of all, I took strength in knowing that I could

walk away from that shallow space forever and be well-adjusted, and find

an environment where people understood the privileges they had and

didn’t have, and which ones I have and don’t have and work with them.

When I saw Jordan screaming: “GET THE FUCK OUT, THIS IS NOT A JOKE. WE

DON’T WANT YOU HERE!” in their full-bodied wind suit and sunglasses and

gloves, I knew the myth of the “well-adjusted” abstinence jordan spoke

of was gone. It was only a year after I heard that oath, and there they

were, unable to move on. Still a stuck, bitter reactionary.

I looked around at people’s faces – white faces – confused and

uncomfortable. I felt like there was a spotlight on me. Every time the

disruptors shouted “APOC”, I felt like I was somehow implicated in the

action for announcing the APOC caucus earlier that week, for returning

from it earlier that day frustrated and confiding in my friends about

it. So I stood up and left the room. I think that I was one of the first

people to leave the room—it only took me about 30 seconds to piece

everything together.

I left the room. I knew that they were there to carry something out,

whatever it was, and I didn’t want to be responsible for ending it.

I pulled myself together about 20 minutes later and walked back into the

building to see chaos. Personal items were scattered everywhere,

medicine bottles rolling on the floor. I walked past people crying,

drinking rescue remedy out of the bottle. The space looked like it had

been raided. When I entered the main hall, where the disruption began, I

could see that the same rhetoric was being presented. Nothing had

changed since I had left besides the atmosphere of the space. I walked

around and asked the people that I knew who were involved in the action

why they felt like an eviction was direct action, why they hadn’t asked

me to participate, whether or not they had considered how their action

was affecting the APOC present and participating in the convergence,

whether or not they had considered their action as a breach of my

consent—as they hadn’t included me because they knew I would have had

reservations; is that really how anarchists should deal with the way

their actions affect their comrades? I didn’t get satisfying answers to

any of my questions.

A physical confrontation followed—admittedly paraphrasing here, an

exchange of words between opposing APOCers along the lines of: “Some of

the white people you’re evicting are my friends and family, you don’t

have my permission to kick them out. ” // “We’re at war, x––, we want

them out, and we’re not asking.” // “If you’re at war with my family,

you’re at war with me.” \ which initiated a push-of-war from either side

of the door. Personally, I wasn’t interested in a physical conflict. As

a sizeable man of color, I have been wrestling with the space I

physically take up for a long time, especially in recent months, which

was in fact one of the issues I had been intending to find counsel

through the convergence’s APOC caucus. I don’t feel comfortable using my

body, more my strength, to express my will. This has seemed like a

white-privilege-discussion blind-spot for me in the past. I wish the

white people around me could understand what its like to be a tall,

strong, brown-skinned male in this world—especially in the anarchist

community—and what it feels like to be an intimidating presence in the

eyes of the white people around me. I can feel it, and the fact that

it’s threatening really affects my sense of self, my confidence in my

body. This is what made it particularly difficult for me to participate

in the back and forth pushing that followed. Knowing that had I wanted

to, I’d have been able to physically remove each of them using whichever

intensity of force of violence I desired. It strikes me as ironic,

thinking back on it now, that I had been looking to my fellow anarchists

of color for supportive conversation earlier that day only to be shut

out by the opportunistic use of legitimate disillusionment during the

APOC caucus and that I was now wrestling with those issues alone, along

side of my friends, while physically wrestling with those who I had

hoped would be most helpful.

I was pushing the door against the disruptors only because people who I

cared about, who I knew cared for me, felt so strongly that the

disruptors needed to be forcibly removed. I wanted the disruptors to

express some concern for my feelings, to incorporate my needs into their

action enough so that we could feel like we were confronting white

supremacy together. Eventually, I grew impatient with the “We’re not

here to discuss anything” // “This is not a dialogue.” \ rhetoric

expressed by my former comrades to even the other people of color

present. So I joined in the pushing. This was an opening experience for

me. It felt good to draw a line—another admission is that as a person of

color in a predominantly white community and circle of friends, I rarely

draw such line—and feel safe in doing so. It also felt powerful to be

checking in with the people I was pushing against—it followed the logic

of “agreeing to disagree” in that I was able to say things like “I’m

going to push the door now, really hard, and it might hurt.” It felt

empowering to allow the disruptors an opportunity to brace themselves

and consider their convictions rather than indulging in a reactionary

physical confrontation. When the “White Allies” Marvel and Sand joined

in, I lost my sense of productive conflict. They had been making me

uncomfortable all convergence long with their obliviousness to the real

struggles facing anarchist people of color. The couple had spent the

entire convergence guilt tripping the mass of white folks with shallow

rhetoric about gentrification and privilege, but never once helped the

organizers communicate the policy information we had put together to

lessen our impact on the community. It became clear what they were

really there to do when they put their hands on the door opposite to me

and pushed—they were agitators, doing the bidding of whichever force

they felt redeemed their white mark of guilt. At some point it would be

worthwhile to analyze how these two white folks were used by the agenda

of the disruptors, and whether that is the model role the disruptors

propose all “White Allies” play, if so, White Allies be warned.

This was the point at which I picked up a sheet of 4×8 plywood and

rushed the disruptors. I wanted to smear them out of the space with the

broad piece of lumber, to attack in a way that wouldn’t be striking. Of

course, I had been thinking emotionally rather than logically and

instead of reducing the engagement, it escalated. Later during this

conflict I redislocated my right shoulder, and pulled a muscle in my

left. I would be sore for the following week.

When the conflict finally ended hours later, the remaining people of

color tried to have a conversation. During that conversation only two of

the disruptors that had participated in the convergence expressed any

remorse for the severity of the action. The others listed all the

criticisms typical of the anti-CrimethInc. platform: too lifestylist,

too white, drop out culture isn’t relevant to people of color, the

project is too exclusive, dumpster diving is privileged, etc. As someone

who has, on frequent occasion, contributed to CrimethInc. projects, I’ve

never been particularly impressed by those who judge the entire project

on their dislike of the book Evasion. I don’t feed myself shoplifting or

dumpster diving, I’ve never hopped a train, I’ve worked as a carpenter

for years, I dropped out of high school and can still contribute writing

to the project, I responded to a call for volunteers and it was

literally that easy to become a part of the group. All this is to say:

the common critiques of the project have never spoken to me. They seem

completely contrary to my experience. I knew many of the people at the

convergence didn’t fall into this narrow view of CrimethInc., many of

them my close friends; I was saddened to learn that the reason for this

premeditated act was based mostly on these political disputes. The few

who were recruited to participate in the disruption were misled by the

ringleaders. I heard that Jordan said something to the effect of: “I’ve

been searching for allies in the anarchist community for years and I

haven’t found them here, but I’ve found them elsewhere.”

This begs two questions. Firstly, where has Jordan been for those years?

How have they not found any allies? I live in a small community with

only a few anarchist friends, I rarely travel or network within the

anarchist scene and I’ve met dozens of amazing, supportive anarchists

who are white. Secondly, where is elsewhere? I’m an anarchist partly

because I’m convinced that anarchism offers the most proactive

self-determined approach to overthrowing oppression. Socialism,

Communism, Nationalism, none of these approaches seem at all

appealing—I’m not saying that as a politician defaming opposing parties,

I’m speaking as an individual seeking tangible paths and ways of

organizing my life to better find my way out of modern life under

capitalism and western civilization. I’m not convinced there is an

elsewhere, not to say anarchists are the only allies—but if not

anarchists
? I’m worried about Jordan’s intentions and direction.

Two of the most problematic things about this event for me involved the

appropriation and presumption of locals. First, the presumption that our

neighbors during the convergence were angry that we were there,

identified us as part of the gentrifying force, or felt displaced by our

presence. This was flat-out untrue in my experience. I had arrived days

before the convergence began to offer assistance in making last minute

preparations. Over those days and those of the convergence proper, I

participated in many conversations with locals. Most of them were casual

well-wishes. Some of them were discussions about what was going on in

the building, which they seemed at the very least indifferent to. I had

two conflicts, if you can call them that, out of maybe 30 interactions.

The first was with an older black woman who asked us not to park in

front of her house so her daughter could have a parking space when she

returned from work. I apologized to her for taking up the space, and

apologized about the space the convergence was taking up as a whole. She

thanked me for the apology, and insisted that all she cared about was

the parking space. The second was the night of the confrontation. I was

dazed, sweaty, and upset, and I came down from the second floor to see

people gathered outside planning the rest of the evening. A black man

maybe a few years older than me was making small talk with the people

hanging outside. He could see that I was upset and offered me a nod. I

nodded back. He extended his hand for a shake. In my delirium—having

just given long, heartfelt hugs and embraces to my friends after the

disruption—I held his hand in mine, in a tight, folded grip, for a

little too long. It was a humorous cultural faux pas. “Ey man, don’t be

squeezing my hand like that,” he thought that I was making a pass at

him. I explained that I had just been fighting with former friends, and

was a little out of it, and he accepted that. When he continued talking

to me, he outright refused to continue the conversation until I “jumped

in some water.” I was stinky and sweaty and off-putting to him. I

explained that I agreed that it was probably time for a shower. Even

after our embarrassing handshake misunderstanding, and being sweaty and

dirty and barefooted, he offered to take me to his brothers house to get

showered up. I could tell that he meant it. Of all my interactions with

people up until the disruption, these are the only two that suggested

any kind of conflict with the neighborhood. I’m not dismissing that we

had a tough impact on the neighborhood, just that the people of the

neighborhood would need seven brave black-clad vanguards to step forward

and confront the convergence, if they really wanted us out. In 2005, not

more than 250 miles away, over 600 black and brown folks rioted in

Toledo to intervene in a National Socialist Movement/white power

demonstration and ended up setting fire to the bar frequented by local

politicians and police. If the kind of anger and resentment the

disruptors felt was really shared by the neighborhood, it seems likely

that CrimethInc. would have been targeted similarly. It is disgusting

that the disruptors tokenized the Garfield community the way it did.

My second major issue with the legitimization of the action was the way

participants claimed it for APOC, specifically Pittsburgh APOC. During

the POC discussion after the disruption, the disruptors began by proudly

claiming that the action was called for nationally. Then regionally.

Then finally, they retreated to say that Pittsburgh APOC called for the

action. When I asked if I could hold Pittsburgh APOC accountable for the

action, they said yes. But afterward they insisted that they were

carrying out their autonomous will. I saw this pattern as a reflection

of the poor communication they had with each other about the intentions

and legitimacy of their motives. Regardless, admitting that didn’t

excuse the fact that the disruptors mislead the convergence attendees

about the support (read: lack there of) from the larger APOC community.

They only admitted that the action wasn’t APOC sponsored, but led by

individual autonomist people of color after all of the white people had

left. It was clear to me that only two of the group really understood

that the action was meant as a political attack against CrimethInc., not

as a self-defensive action of people of color present at the

convergence. I was satisfied with the answer they gave me about

Pittsburgh APOC, and I intended to bring my complaints to them, as I was

convinced further conversation with the disruptors would be fruitless. I

came down from the upstairs where a local APOCista was waiting. They saw

in my eyes that I was about to ask a question that had been asked many

times already that night: “Do you have the contact for the Pittsburgh

APOC?” her answer: “There is no Pittsburgh APOC, we haven’t had meetings

in months.” Some part of me knew that this had been true all along. The

puzzle pieces fit together—Otto had been the token local who the entire

disrupting team could use to validate their action. Otto spoke for

Pittsburgh APOC because there was none. The disruptors marginalized APOC

by claiming it as an APOC action, for the remainder of the convergence

most people who had been present for the action referred to the

disruptors as “APOC”—APOC this, APOC that. “If APOC believes X then how

can I support them?” “APOC wants all white people to go back to Europe.”

This was perhaps the least productive repercussion of the action. In the

days following, calls were made to APOCers all around the country, and I

kept hearing that there was very little support for the disruption in

the way that it occurred. I’d like to request that APOCers join me in

maintaining the distance between APOC as a network and project and the

“APOC” claimed by the disruptors by public censure of the “Smack a White

Boy 2″ action. We need to hold the distinction or risk being pushed into

further marginalization and isolation.

Account 7

I don’t know what my account will contribute, as I feel as though much

of what I am about to describe has already been documented by other

‘APOC against the action’. So I will keep it short and try not to repeat

too much of what has already been said.

The 2009 Crimethinc. Convergence was the 3rd consecutive convergence I

participated in. I arrived Thursday night into an environment I felt

less than comfortable in. The first conversations I overheard were

arguments about race and how ‘we’re all the same on the inside’ and that

‘race shouldn’t matter,’ by a very aggressive and dominant white male.

This first impression of this years convergence made me feel quite

alienated. Unlike previous convergences where I felt liberated and

welcomed when I arrived, all I felt was anxiety, and incredible amounts

of tension in the atmosphere in Pittsburgh. This was enough to make me

decide to sleep in the car rather than in the convergence space.

Friday morning I started preparing my workshop about the 2010 Olympics

and indigenous and anarchist resistance to it, which I planned on

presenting on Saturday. While doing this and burning copies of my CD for

my performance at the ‘Anarchist Dance Party’, which was also happening

the following day I was approached by one of the disrupters who

introduced themself as “Kill Whitey” and told me that they were supposed

to be hosting a workshop on ‘anti-racism’ which nobody had showed up to.

I thought it was pretty funny to see somebody who has given themself a

name that advocates killing somebody because of their skin color,

hosting a workshop on ‘anti-racism.’ In any case, we talked about

gentrification, white privilege, and the “Smack A White Boy” ANSWER

(distr)action. “Kill Whitey” told me they had participated in that

action, and I asked how it went down and if they thought it was

successful. I made no secret of my reluctance to support this action

until I could learn more about what exactly went down and what the

consequences of this action were. “Kill Whitey” agreed that “Smack A

White Boy pt 1” went over most people’s heads and that most of those who

were ‘smacked’ had no understanding of the motivations or goals of this

action, and still don’t have a clue. This confirmed my feeling that this

was confrontation for confrontation’s sake.

After this we both walked to the APOC caucus, at which many important

issues were brought up, including gentrification, unchecked white

privilege, white dominance in the anarchist scene (crimethinc. in

particular), and the lack of safe space and recognition of POC needs,

but “smack a white boy pt. 2” was never brought up for discussion,

leaving many people of color in the dark about the pre-meditated attack

that night.

That night, as the cabaret ended, and 6-8 folks stormed into the room

yelling ‘get the fuck out of pittsburgh’, and ‘go back to europe’, while

throwing people’s bags around and making people cry, I immediately knew

lines were being drawn and which side I was on. This was not a

performative disruption, this wasn’t calling people out, this wasn’t

forcing dialogue about issues, it was a repeat of “Smack a White Boy”,

and I wanted no part in it. I wanted it to stop.

I knew that most of the disrupters were from out of town, so their claim

to be representing the neighborhood we were gentrifying fell on deaf

ears. And their claims to be acting on behalf of people of color didn’t

reach me either as I saw more people of color standing up to their

senseless tactics than standing with them.

When the time came for physical confrontation between them and the APOC

folks who disagreed with them I was ready. They declared war on

Crimethinc. They didn’t care what the consequences of their actions

would be. They didn’t give a fuck about kicking people out onto the

street in an unfamiliar city in the middle of the night. They didn’t

care who they hurt. They attacked people for being white who didn’t

identify as being white. They attacked women, they attacked trans

people, they attacked everyone in that room. They attacked other people

of color and called them ‘race traitors’ who were siding with their

colonizers.

They told all white people to leave, but told their ‘white allies’ to

stay to back them up. One of these ‘white allies’ (they’re no allies of

mine) punched me in the face after trying to physically pull me away

from the door where I and other people of color were attempting to push

the disrupters out. So I guess it’s OK for the disrupters to have their

white friends back them up but not us?

The only feeling I had at this moment was “How fucking dare you! How

dare you speak on behalf of POC. How fucking dare you speak on behalf of

this neighborhood that none of you are from. How fucking dare you

alienate us even more because we don’t agree with your tactics.”

After all the white people left, including their ‘allies’ we had a short

meeting, and I asked if they took other people of color into

consideration when doing this action. They obviously didn’t and made no

attempt to claim they took us into consideration. We asked if we could

hold APOC, Philly APOC, or Pittsburgh APOC accountable for this action

but then they fell back behind the safety of having ‘acted autonomously

as individuals.’ I remember thinking ‘what fucking cowards.’

Why not attack the real forces of gentrification while you’re in town?

Why not rally us to attack banks, real estate companies, condo

developments, and individuals who are profiting from the gentrification

in Pittsburgh? Why prioritize attacking those who would back you up in

the real struggle?

I confronted them about how much they had fucked me over. I explained

that I had put lots of resources into coming down here in order to

promote resistance to the 2010 Olympics, which is a massive force of

gentrification and colonization. Their response was and that I need not

worry, that ‘APOC’ would handle it, and that white anarchists are

useless and that I shouldn’t try to find support or organize with them.

This was enough for me to disengage. I had nothing left to say. Their

action personally fucked me over, alienated me, hurt my friends, and did

serious damage to anarchist organizing.

That night I slept in the convergence space with real comrades, both

white and POC. The next morning the convergence went on as planned,

although numbers had been cut in half. Still there were nearly 100

people who stayed until Sunday when it was scheduled to end. We were not

evicted, we were not intimidated into leaving Pittsburgh, we will not

grant you that sense of accomplishment. Once again, as was the case with

“smack a white boy pt. 1” you accomplished nothing.

P.S. You should consider smacking a cop, politician, or banker instead

of anarchists and anti-war activists next time you decide to “Smack a

Whiteboy.”

-Testament

Account 8: Bad Move – Alternative Reportback from the ‘Smack a White

Boy Part 2’ Attempted Eviction of the Crimethinc Convergence.

If I was an infiltrator I would have been laughing my brains out. I mean

to a cop, what could be better? An anarchist conference attacked not by

cops, not by white supremacists, but by other anarchists. A potential

threat to the system divided and debilitated, not by race as the

aggressors claimed, but by the egos of a few individuals.

What I experienced at the crimethinc convergence when a handful of

people connected through Anarchist People of Color (APOC) interrupted

and declared war, literally, on convergence attendees, was certainly the

most obnoxious and absurd thing I’ve ever seen anyone do in the name of

anti-oppression. The way I saw these individuals act – people I’d

considered comrades moments before – was a manner of utter disrespect I

would consider tactically appropriate toward neo-Nazis, maybe toward a

board meeting of Lockheed-Martin, but never for anyone who I would

consider a potential comrade, let alone an anarchist.

But I guess that was their point wasn’t it? This was an explicit act of

anti-solidarity. During their so called action the disruptors repeatedly

stated that they were “past” dialogue with white people. Communication

with white people would now consist of belligerent yelling of

hate-filled remarks in a relationship more akin to collies and their

sheep herds than anarchists to their fellow humans.

With their declaration that they were beyond dialogue with whites they

defined the terms of the confrontation, and compelled me to personal

involvement as a person of color. Soon I was neck deep in an ugly

confrontation with a few of the most obnoxious self-proclaimed

anarchists I’ve ever dealt with. It saddens me that I am posting this

for a number of reasons, the least of which is not giving those eyes in

law enforcement a few extra minutes of bonus entertainment, but when a

group of anarchists start acting completely below decency to other

people in the name of anti-oppression, their mentality must be

confronted.

Now, the grievance stated by the disruptors as the rationale for their

actions was that the convergence furthered gentrification. This is a

legitimate compliant, and I will address the issue a little further on

in this article, but first I would like to hand back a few grievances I

have with the disruptors and the stunt they pulled, sectioned

conveniently for their response.

Please be clear on the following points when looking at this article:

Color who was present at the confrontation. However, I am not speaking

only from my experience at the confrontation. I’ve known one of these

individuals for well over a year, and I’ve had disturbing whiffs of

their extremist mentality itching my nostrils for a while now. Before

recently, I’ve tried to explain these qualms away to myself, giving them

the benefit of the doubt because I respected them as a comrade and a

friend. Now I feel there’s no choice but to confront their mentality

head on.

self-declared autonomous individuals. I’ve attended a number of APOC

caucuses and know this is not the dominant mentality. I’ll also note

that in this “action”, it was two people really, who did the most

talking (yelling). A third person was pretty vocal and obnoxious, but

almost reticent in comparison with the loudest two, and three other

folks largely refrained from yelling, mostly contributing their physical

presence. Out of these three I believe at least two of them had some

very mixed feelings about what they had gotten themselves into, and

because of this I feel almost unfair for referring to the six of them

together as “the disruptors.” On the other hand, if they were really

autonomous as was claimed, they could have at any time called out any of

the moronic things their cohorts said. If you two are reading this,

read: better late than never.

both sides, I think pretty much everyone would agree, there was no

actual fighting. Explicit threats like “Get the fuck out, we’re not

pacifists!” and some scuffle, like pushing and pulling, but none of them

intending to knock people off balance or physically injure anyone. We

even drank water from the same jug in the midst of arguing. Isn’t that

nice?

“eviction”s reprehensible qualities. In respect to the reader’s

intelligence I will be pointing out only a few things which may not be

quite as completely obvious to every single person reading this.

Hopefully this will provoke discussion and be a positive effect of this

most negatively minded aggression.

And now


My Unhappy Grieviances With the “Smack a White Boy” Disruptors and

Their Actions.

1. Cowardice

In the report back from the first “Smack a White Boy” “action” last

March, in which autonomous APOC disrupted a large anti-war protest,

writing off the anti-war movement in the U.S. as defunct by internal

white supremacy, the writer/s warned of “even more ambitious direct

action in the future”. Apparently these writers idea of “more ambitious”

is attacking people closer in social proximity to themselves, and

further from the apparatus of power where they should really be focusing

their energy.

I don’t deny that it takes a special kind of audacity to walk into a

room of over a hundred people trying to have a good time, and in the

dead of seriousness, begin screaming your head off at them, but I do not

call this brave. In truth, the crimethinc. convergence was one of the

easiest and softest targets for a stunt of this kind: they knew it was

an explicitly anarchist space so they wouldn’t get in trouble with the

cops, they knew from first hand interaction that most of the people at

convergences are generally nice folk and that they would not risk major

physical injury, and they knew that as white anarchists who considered

themselves anti-racist, most whites at the convergence could be easily

intimidated by the threat of being called racist.

That’s just the truth.

2. Fatal Presumptuousness

Throughout the disruption, and particularly at first, the disruptors

clearly implied that they represented people of color at large, and that

they somehow spoke for the neighborhood. They later denied this when

called on it, pointing out they never explicitly said “we speak for

people of color”, “we speak for the neighborhood” - but the message was

clear enough. At one point one of them insinuated to us POC who resisted

them as they tried throwing people’s bags out the ballroom – with a

surreal indignity – that we were somehow betraying them as people of

color by resisting them. For the record none of the disruptors were

native to Pittsburgh, let alone the neighborhood - but that didn’t stop

them from yelling “Get the fuck out of Pittsburgh!” repeatedly as a

chief demand. This kind of presumptuousness about their mandate as

individual people of color is dangerously unaccountable, and in this

case, absurdly self-serving. When somebody pointed out to one of the

disruptors that their demand was unrealistic – it being around one

o’clock at night and impossible to hitchhike, a disruptor said they

could all head out, packs in hand, to the train yard.

A word really needs to be said now about the APOC acronym and its

potential for insinuating more than it means. The acronym APOC,

obviously, is not owned by anyone, and any anarchist person of color can

take up the banner. This is a good way for Anarchist POC to consolidate

with each other; also as individuals and small groups, the acronym APOC

brings an additional clout to our statements, especially toward white

anarchists. This is terrific when used by responsible individuals; the

problem comes when an individual or group, pushing their own agenda,

uses APOC coercively. If you oppose a certain APOC individual for

example, you have to be very careful in how you declare it, especially

if you’re white. Your opposition to this one APOC could be taken as

opposition to Anarchist People of Color in its wider sense, which could

then be taken as opposition to anarchist people of color in general.

In the case with the disruptors – and we have to keep calling them that,

there’s no other name to call them by – they haven’t identified as

anything other than autonomous APOCers, so those non POC who oppose them

have to be super extra special careful not to refer to them as APOC.

It’s easy for them to sound kind of racist if they do.

Of course, by pulling this stunt, the disruptors have created a rift

within APOC, so hopefully this won’t be an issue in the future.

3. Bufoonery

The disruptors are particularly lucky crimethinc had a strict policy

against cameras and recording without consent. A video or audio

recording of the event would have entirely spoken for itself. You’d

think at such a public stunt like this, one would put a bit more thought

into her talking points, or, screaming points; instead they came with a

bunch of slogans about getting your white faces the fuck out of

Pittsburg, burying any potential for real communication under their

rage, while the classic “Go back to Europe!” was repeated not once, not

twice, but like, a lot.

4. Dogmatic Fanaticism

This entire stunt reeked of a kind of rigid one-sided thinking more

appropriate to the Cult Of The Inverse Hierarchy or Ann Coulter Fan

Club, than a group of supposedly independently thinking radicals. Of

course, some of them would say similar things about me, and did,

pronouncing that I must have been brainwashed by whites for opposing

their stunt - then calling me a race traitor on top of it. Now

personally I find the term race traitor to be particularly unforgivable

among the genres of racial insults, because it’s not something that

flies out of your mouth when you’re mad and stupid: you actually have to

think about it before you say it. Race traitor. To anyone reading this

who doesn’t already get why the concept of Race Traitor is so

oxymoronic, simply think about it: to commit treason you must first give

oath to the thing you are committing treason against (it’s called free

will)
 then you betray it; that’s what traitor means. To call someone a

traitor based on how they were born is utter dogmatic ignorance. I was

born with Filipino blood so I choose what that means for me, and to me

it does not mean spraying Roundup on the stalks of interracial

solidarity that countless people of all colors work long and hard to

develop.

Response note: in their “Smack A White Boy Part Two” report back, the

disruptors said this about their use of the term: “there are rumors

afloat that the term “race traitor” was used towards mixed people and

others who weren’t participating. this is untrue. the word was used

towards specific individuals and their personal history of posturing a

role in upholding, defending, and ultimately furthering white supremacy.

for instance, by the spreading the idea that it is because we are not

doing enough, that it is our fault that we are oppressed.” I don’t even

know what to say to this except that I’ve NEVER said anything like that,

and the person who called me that name had never met me before that

night.

It is absurd to think that people should agree with you, or have any

obligation to sympathize with your hateful stunts, based on the fact

that they are people of color.

5. Rationalizing Cruel and Indecent Acts in the Name of

Anti-Oppression

I also want to express this bizarre sense if irony I felt in the

presence of people who could scream into other people’s crying faces,

who could blatantly violate other human beings consent, and still felt

qualified to scream-lecture people on any perceived lapses in

anti-oppressive etiquette, or use of privilege, at the same time.

This just doesn’t make sense to me. If you really need to be a huge

ginormous asshole, don’t castigate people for farting!

Favorite example: At one point nearing the end of the conflict when the

disruptors were getting ready to file back in their car and ride back to

Philly, one of the two most vocal of them saw fit to scream “Put your

shirt on!” to a white guy about a hundred feet away, proceeding to call

him both sexist AND racist for having exposed nipples in an “all black”

neighborhood. Goodness gracious! Maybe if you’re so full throttle eager

to scream at anyone who disagrees with you for anything having to do

with privilege, that you can’t even get your ists straight, you might

want to try breathing in between righteous call outs.

Look, all our work rooting out oppression in our interactions and

mentality – to me, the whole purpose of it all, is very simply to not be

an asshole. Can somebody please explain to me the important intellectual

difference between being fucked up and being an asshole? Cause to me,

it’s all the same beast. You could say I’m being over simplistic and

that I’m over generalizing here, and yeah - you could be right, but you

gotta admit, if you dedicate yourself to the cause of anti oppression,

and strive to root out oppressive tendencies throughout your personality

and lifestyle
 and yet you still tower over people as a massive

hyperalienating jerk - you must have missed something somewhere.

What could it be?

6. Enforcement of Hierarchy (in an Anarchist Space)

It is clear to me that this action was planned by people who want to

turn hierarchy upside down, not level it. Cheerleading along to the

attempted eviction were three or four “white allies” whose pre-arranged

job was to help the disruptors move bags, and echo the eviction message

to their white brethren.

Wait a second


The disruptors repeatedly stated that they were beyond dialogue with

white people
 so if they’re relationship with these “allies” was not one

of dialogue, what was it?

It’s one thing to tell whites to fuck off – I mean there, you’re at

least cutting off your relationship with them honestly – but to keep

some of them around to echo your demands and move luggage for you?

They’re not worth dialoging with, but you don’t mind letting them do

your bidding? (I guess in a historical sense, this is a pretty accurate

use of the term “Allies”) Establishing a relationship in which one party

defines all the terms and holds all the power, is damn hypocritical for

anyone who claims to oppose hierarchy.

So I guess you’re not quite ready to break up with whites completely. In

between insulting them you wouldn’t mind keeping them around some of the

time, as long as you decide the where, when, and the how. I know I’m no

Dr. Phil, but if that’s the only relationship you’re willing to maintain

with whites, maybe you should follow your words to their conclusions and

stick to an honest break up.

__, at earlier caucuses with you I had misgivings about the relationship

you seemed to want to establish with your “white allies”, but I assured

myself that what seemed to be hierarchy, was a relatively insignificant

and understandable response to white oppression. Now it is plain to me

that you’ve gone too far. The relationship you want to establish with

white allies reminds me of the relationship of the Catholic Church to

its pupils.

Church to the Catholic: You were born into sin, but if you repent to me

and do what I say without question, some of your sin will be absolved

and you will be a better Christian.

You to the “White Ally”: Based on the way you were born, you are racist,

but if you kiss my ass and follow what I say, without question, some of

your racism will be absolved and you will be a better anti-racist.

By pointing this not-so-hidden hierarchy out, I am in no way advocating

symmetrical race relations. It is undeniable that this society –

anti-establishment movements included – is entrenched with white

supremacy, and to combat this without getting assimilated into a

systemically racist structure, minorities must claim the autonomy to

organize amongst ourselves. In white dominated movements we must

structure our involvement as we choose - but this doesn’t give you some

special mandate to establish hierarchy where it doesn’t belong.

Personally there are two things I consider indispensable to any working

relationship, and you deny them both. They are:

Dialogue – the ability of each party to have their say – and Mutual

Respect.

Without both of these attributes, agreed on both ends, a relationship is

clearly hierarchical and should be restructured, ended, or taken outside

the anarchist community.

7. Racism

Yeah, I can say pretty much anything I want to a white person and I

still won’t be racist because reverse racism isn’t real. Please! If you

want to talk seriously about racism, stop using the word like it’s a

toy!

At one point during the confrontation, a white person responded from

beneath a pile of racial insults that they thought the disruptors were

being racist themselves. One of the disruptors responded by informing

them that “reverse racism” doesn’t exist, or wasn’t real or something to

that effect. They even cited some obscure etymology to support this

argument. Impressive. This opinion that “reverse racism” doesn’t exist

was expressed by a few whites at the convergence as well, and I’m pretty

familiar with debate on the subject.

If you think about it for a few seconds though, it becomes clear that

the whole argument on whether “reverse racism” is real or not is founded

on a false binary. In the real world there are many different races and

many dynamics of racism between them. The term “reverse racism” implies

only two types of racism, normal and reverse.

So yeah, “reverse racism” isn’t real, in the sense the term itself is

intellectually bunk, but that doesn’t make yelling slogans like “go back

to Europe!” and “smack a white boy!” and then denying any racism on your

own part any less moronic. Ultimately the idiocy of your statements

stands on its own, whether or not you deny their racism. I’m more

interested here in exploring the irresponsible way in which you use the

term.

Obviously, RACISM as a word, carries a tremendous amount of political

power, especially among radicals. My question for you is, why do self

proclaimed anarchists feel the need to own a word that carries so much

political clout but can only be wielded in one direction.

Think about it: words – as you clearly understand – can be used very

powerfully as weapons. But there’s one thing about weapons: every person

who takes up a sword or a gun, understands that the same power the

weapon gives them, could be used against them if it landed in another

person’s hand. You can’t have a gun that can only be pointed in one

direction. Who would conceive of such a thing? (I mean, besides You Know

Who)

We’ve all seen what happens when a group of people try to own and

completely control a word as a weapon: look at the U.S. government’s use

of the term TERRORISM. In corporate media, the term Terrorism is

ascribed only to enemies of U.S. interest; nothing the U.S. or its

allies do could ever be terrorism. If you point out that acts committed

by our military perfectly exemplify our governments very own definition

of terror, they scoff at you, call you marginalizing names, and say your

supporting the terrorists. Essentially they’re taking an extremely

powerful word and trying to keep all of its power to themselves. In

doing so they preclude any use of the word, and its power, in a two way

communication (dialogue), and monopolize it as a tool and weapon for one

way dictation (monologue). What you’re trying to do with the term RACISM

is essentially the same function on a smaller scale.

You unaccountably and irresponsibly throw “racist” at any white folk who

don’t “ally” to you, but you won’t admit to racism even in the midst of

catching your breath after a hateful “You People” rant? Give me a break.

Honestly, if you wanted to use the term in such an unaccountably one way

function like this, you should have at least been way more subtle about

it. Instead you bluntly flaunted the contradiction in front of people’s

faces, time and again, thinking your irrefutable “no reverse racism”

axiom protected you from being called on it. You have abused this power

too much, and fatally, you were painfully obvious in how you did it!

Now, like a little wanton child who’s played too loud, and too hard, and

hurt too many people with a grown-up tool, it’s time your warped

conception of racism was taken away from you.

Again, you cannot skew these arguments to say I am advocating symmetry

in race relations within the radical community. The principle of

equality is only an abstract ideal when not considered in the context of

privilege inequity that is our society. White people do need to realize

that having racism perpetrated against them does not suddenly give them

any excuse to deny their privileges within the social framework of this

society, nor does it mean they suddenly know what it means to be POC in

the U.S.

There; that’s the long way to say it. The short way is this: You

organize an “action” called “smack a white boy” in which you scream

hatefully into a group of white people you don’t even know, and still

try to hold that you’re not racist? You’ll have better luck convincing

me that two plus two equals five.

Now, Some Words on Gentrification

Okay, gentrification is a very complex issue. It does nothing for

anybody to oversimplify it and put it in black and white terms. Am I

saying that’s what the disruptors did? Yeah, pretty much.

In the disruptors’ eyes they were taking this hard, line in the sand,

don’t step across it, Whoops, you already stepped across it now you’re

gonna get it, stand. I don’t know all of what they’ve learned about

gentrification, but if my knowledge on the issue is remotely accurate,

it generally takes months for gentrification to occur, often years. The

convergence lasted for a span of about a week.

Gentrification in poorer, darker skinned neighborhoods generally occurs

through permanent settlements, especially ones that bring capital into

the neighborhood. The convergence clearly did not bring a lot of money

into the neighborhood. One of the disruptors reiterated the talking

point that white convergence attendees were the “pioneers” of

gentrification. They seemed to have forgotten that pioneers generally

stay where they pioneer to for more than one week.

I am not saying that the convergence didn’t contribute to

gentrification. We know it probably did, but in an intangibly small way.

Please read carefully here, I am not saying it contributed to

gentrification in a negligibly small way, I say an intangibly small

way - as in, whatever gentrification occurred as a result of the

convergence, the damage is immeasurable because the convergence was such

a minor and short term event.

Compare to spending money at a corporate establishment: when you buy

some crap at Best Buy, you know you are feeding the beast. You also know

you are not contributing nearly as much as if you owned the store and

that this act of consumption alone will not keep the establishment

going - but in the overall scheme of things, you know your doing

something bad. While most of you know what I’m talking about here, I

know there’s the few perfect anarchists reading this who are like,

“well, I never give money to corporations, period.” To you folks, I can

only earnestly hope that you never use the pedestal of your virtue to

castigate us imperfect anarchists for our sins – and if you do that you

won’t be such vindictive jerks about it.

Some might argue that this is a bunk comparison, that what the

organizers did by planning the convergence in a mostly black

neighborhood was much worse than spending X amount of money at X

corporation. Maybe. Maybe not. One thing we should at least agree on is

that it’s an immeasurable, incalculable crime, not because of its size

and magnitude, but because of its lack of size and magnitude. Nobody

really knows how bad it is.

I’m going to quote Jesus here alright? I’m not a Christian but this

quote seems really apt: “Let he who has not sinned cast the first

stone.” It seems to me that this quote is actually congruent with the

disruptors rational for their stunt; as far as I can gather, in their

minds they are without racial sin. But anybody within U.S borders who

believes they are beyond race privilege is kidding themselves. The

privilege that being “American” grants us is inextricably linked with

race privilege: the global system of capital and governance itself is

racist through and through.

If this is a precedent for future actions – which the disruptors made

clear of – who is an unworthy target? Since we are truly all guilty does

that mean we should all scream at each other endlessly to somehow be

better activists because of it?

I wasn’t at the first half of the convergence. I know numerous

discussions took place around race and gentrification. Although I wasn’t

at these discussions I can pretty safely bet they did more to educate

the white people at the convergence about gentrification than the

eviction stunt did. Though screaming can be fun sometimes, it usually

sucks as a tool for education. What I am saying here is that it was not

unreasonable for the organizers to have hoped that more long-term good

could have come out of bringing this discussion about gentrification to

the forefront of the conference, than damage to the neighborhood done by

the short-term spike in white faces visible on that particular corner of

the neighborhood. Maybe they were wrong. Maybe the convergence should

not have been there. Nobody really knows because it’s an intangible,

incalculable sin. If somebody has credible data on how much a week’s

fluctuation of white skin on a street corner contributes to

gentrification in Pittsburgh, I’d love to see it. Until then my crucifix

stays in the garage.

There have been various speculations on how people native to the

neighborhood felt about the convergence, but most of us know it would be

silly to think there was anything resembling an overall consensus.

Nobody I talked to had a problem with it, but I’m sure some people were

weirded out as well. As for disruptor’s reference to the area as an “all

black neighborhood” – that is simply inaccurate. Nobody can speak for

the entire neighborhood. As far as I can tell from their rhetoric, the

closest thing they’ve offered as a coherent response to gentrification

is hard-lined segregation. “Get the fuck out of all-black

neighborhoods!” “Get the fuck out of Pittsburgh!”

Am I naĂŻve for thinking it possible that some infoshops in minority

dominated areas, like the one less than a block down the street from the

convergence space, might actually contribute more good to the

neighborhood than harm through the apparatus of gentrification? If the

only response to gentrification is truly total segregation, the divisive

mechanisms of capitalism have succeeded in dividing and dismantling us

once again.

Conclusion

If I, at any time came off as kind of caustic during this article, it’s

cause I’m fucking pissed. This is not about crimethinc. This is about

human decency, about free thought, about knowing who the enemy is, and

about not doing exactly what the feds want us to be doing by tearing

each other apart.

To any fellow anarchist people of color who feel tempted, or obligated,

to fall in line with this kind of hate-filled action - please consider

how damaging and far reaching such explicit acts of anti solidarity will

be to the real things we should be fighting for. Please, don’t subscribe

to a mentality that buries reason and communication under the noise of

vengeful group think - a mentality that throws fuel on the fires of

racism rather than extinguishing it.

To those few aggressors who perpetrated this stunt, please, I ask you to

consider the damage you are doing to a movement that could pose a real

threat to your true enemies. Please consider what’s really at stake here

and ask yourself if it’s really worth imposing yourself, so forcefully

in gashes of division, upon spaces for potential solidarity. To make

change happen you always have to work with people who are different than

you, who have different values, different prejudices, and yes even

different backgrounds - but if you cannot work with them it does not

mean you have to directly work against them.

To those self-styled “white allies” who thought they earned some kind of

anti racist points by assisting or endorsing to this action, I have very

special note for you:

A Very Special Message for You – Aspiring Ally Who Supported or

Endorsed the AttemptedThe convergence didn’t end, by the way. It’s

simply a lie to say it did Eviction.

Dear Aspiring White Ally.

I see that you are very interested in listening and coming to terms with

your white skinned privilege, by supporting people of color in

establishing our ground in a largely white demographic. Awesome! I also

see that you’ve aided or endorsed an “action” of outright

anti-solidarity and ignorant buffoonery, that has disastrous

repercussions far beyond crimethinc. to the below/left struggle against

imperialism as a whole. Hmm
 Did you think these two activities somehow

go hand in hand? I find this somewhat disturbing.

I know some of you sometimes feel uncomfortable disagreeing with people

of color, especially when the issue involves race. I have heard a few of

you say “I don’t think it is really my place as a white person to object

to the actions or tactics of a person of color”. To me, these statements

sound like a young child saying “Since I’m a kid, I can’t really object

to the things that grown-ups do.”

It’s hard for me to know how to react to statements like this, but one

of the first questions that comes to my mind is: “What if two grown-ups

disagree?”

To some of you, it seems the answer to this problem was to go with the

more radical-seeming answer. Maybe to some of you this is what being

radical means. Maybe some of you thought the disruptors would not call

you racist if you supported them – or that they would only smack you

once, and not very hard. Maybe you thought if you went along with their

initial demands for eviction, you wouldn’t have to really go all the way

back to Europe. Whatever you thought, I hope you’re thinking a little

clearer now, and out of your sense of reason; not guilt.

The truth is, you don’t need me, or any other person of color to give

you permission to question, and object to this stunt, this mentality,

this ignorance, because you are a grown-up. You’ve already had years to

explore the tortuous maze of implications that stretch out behind the

Two Grown-Ups Disagree Paradox. You know there’s no easy answer.

You know that POC are not really as monolithic an entity as a small

group of presumptuous individuals may construe us. We speak, think, and

act for ourselves, and if any person of color claims that they represent

the interests of real POC - as opposed to race traitors - they should be

viewed with the firmest suspicion.

Why, as a person of color, would I be telling you this? One explanation

is that I have been brainwashed by you, as one disruptor suggested.

Really, it’s simple. As a POC I can easily imagine a number of benefits

to white people who are so willing to go along with what a POC says,

concerning race issues, that they may be willing to put their ethics and

critical thinking on hold to support them or stay passively out of their

way; but, I can also think of at least as many negative consequences to

such white people
 especially if they share the same community with me.

What if, for random example, they become influenced by POC of, say,

questionable character?

Likewise, it does not comfort me as a POC to know that there’s white

folks who will take hate filled insults like “Go back to Europe!” to the

face, from a POC, and still condone their actions and act as apologists

for them, any more than it comforts me as a male to know there are women

who will take blatant verbal abuse from their husbands and still not

leave them. It actually makes me kind of sad.

Before concluding, I would like to extend a plague on anyone who uses my

words to rationalize their ignorance of white privilege, or their

perpetuation of white supremacy. The distinction I try to draw here is

really not all that complicated. It is the difference between listening

without asserting yourself, and following; between respect and

ingratiation; between being patient and letting yourself be blatantly

disrespected.

I’m not trying to draw perfect fine lines here. The formation of more

rigid lines and easy binaries is the last thing I’m hoping for. There

are no easy answers when it comes to being a good ally, especially

toward people of color. Being a good ally toward one person of color

would be easy. A small group of POC with erratic internal dynamics - a

little harder. Being an ally to people of color in the world at large:

that is a long term objective worthy of the most ambitious anarchist - a

goal that brings endless questions and paradoxes along with it. At this

point, an essential step toward this goal is understanding that

supporting the actions of a small group of POC, does not necessarily

make you a better ally to people of color, it makes you a better ally to

those People of Color.

It is possible, without extenuating the reality of privilege disparity

amongst ourselves, to remember that beneath it all, nobody is immaculate

of privilege. Unless you are dead, or about to die, you can be humbled

by the fact that you live with privilege. And only a fool assumes they

can know the privilege of someone they’ve never met before.

For me, the most important distinction, if we are all guilty, draws

between guilt and humility. Guilt is heavy, opaque, and reactionary.

Humility is buoyant, reflective, and proactive. Generally under the

influence of guilt, people act more stupidly, while when humbled, the

possibilities are endless.

Thanks everybody who took the time to read this,

Yours in revolution,

Dooiter