________

There’s more where that came from.

While many revolutionary and radical communities embrace families, intolerance of parents and children is a stance that still has a foothold in many circles. Scorn towards mothers, children and families is hardly a revolutionary mentality. In fact, this position is a direct holdover from capitalist, authoritarian ideology. Unfortunately, instead of challenging this rhetoric as reactionary, anarchists and other radicals often accept it in our midst. 1

Mainstream culture generates a steady stream of contempt towards mamas and kids. Any parent can tell you how common it is to hear statements like, “Some people just shouldn’t be allowed to procreate,” or complaints about how the Worst Thing Ever is to sit down for a flight next to a young child, or a baby. How strollers are forever in the way. How breastfeeding is disgusting and offensive. How the unruly child in the checkout line or the coffee shop is obviously the product of a lazy mother whose incompetence is assumed after only a few moments’ familiarity. How mamas on welfare and teen mamas should, basically, eat shit and die (but have a Happy Mother’s Day!). This judgment, eye-rolling and hatred flows freely in our society. Interestingly, as it becomes less and less generally acceptable to express a blanket intolerance towards women, mothers–and by association, their children–are still a “safe” repository for cultural scorn. Any m/other can tell you–it’s always open season on her and her sisters. 2

To offer an illustration of this dynamic: a couple of years ago. there was an incident on an Air Tran flight. The crew ejected a mother with a screaming 3-year-old child from the flight before the plane took off. Similar occurrences are relatively common and women often organize around them–mothers kicked out of restaurants for breastfeeding (its legality notwithstanding), cafes declared kid-free zones, et cetera. There is often media coverage, complete with the peanut gallery, which usually weighs in on the mothers in question as if witch burnings might be an option. If online comments are any measure, plenty of people were in agreement with the Air Tran decision. Here’s one: “Good to see that at least some airlines throw out the inconsiderate parents with their brats. Seriously, that should happen more often. If your damn kid can’t shut up, stay off of airplanes. I don’t see why anyone else, be it crew or passengers, should have to put up with unruly brats. It’s about time that entitlement-ridden parents learn their lesson.” Here’s another comment from a different website: “Parents of small children should except [sic] the responsibilties[sic] of thier [sic] decision to have these mewling brats and let those of us who were smart enough not to make the assinine [sic] mistake of parenthood, have the peace we so richly deserve.” 3   The point should be made that this blanket intolerance of parents lands disproportionately, and squarely, on the backs of women.

This is a value system clearly dictated by capitalism. While giving lip service to the sanctity of motherhood and putting social pressure on women to procreate –alas, soldiers and workers do not come from thin air–in actuality, a capitalist framework places a very low value on child rearing and penalizes all women (some far more than others) economically and socially for becoming mothers. This is particularly true in the US version of capitalism. M/others on the low-end of this totem pole (whether single, of color, receiving government assistance, poor, young, or undocumented) are the recipients of increasingly complicated layers of discrimination, intolerance, and exploitation.

Unpaid caregiving (for children, the disabled and the elderly) is not measured in the gross domestic product of the US, or any other nation-state. If unpaid family-based labor were calculated as part of the world GDP, it would amount to over 1/3 of the gross domestic product of the entire world. 4  One conclusion to be drawn from this information is that the exploitation of the unpaid work of women is a precondition for the success of global capitalism. Capitalism, as a system, depends on this uncompensated family-centered labor, meanwhile penalizing women–the very people whose labor makes the system possible–for doing this work. Put another way, we can say that global capitalism is erected on the backs of women (then, adding insult to injury, women are often scapegoated for capitalism’s woes: see “welfare mothers are ruining the fabric of our society” rhetoric).

In the US, motherhood is the single biggest risk factor for poverty in old age.  5  Though mothers are the most impacted, this effect is not confined to gender. Anyone choosing to devote hir time to the unpaid caregiving of children, people with disabilities, or our elders is subject to economic and social hardship and isolation. This family work is simply invisible and uncompensated under capitalism. It’s also worth noting that children themselves embody much that capitalism discourages and devalues: they are not productive in the traditional sense. They are often disorderly, reluctant to be controlled, and naturally distrustful of authority.

A hyper-individualist society takes no collective responsibility for children. It says that your choice to become a parent is yours alone, therefore an expectation of help from non-parents is unreasonable. This idea gets plenty of play in radical and anarchist circles, as another comment on Infoshop.org, in response to an article (penned by myself), advocating for the inclusion of families in the anarchist community, demonstrates: “Get this homegirl–I’m a woman and I don’t care about your fucking kid. Clearly I must be internalizing patriarchy if I don’t drop everything I CARE ABOUT TO DEAL WITH YOUR CHILD. Does this mean I think you or your child should be treated badly? No. But I don’t want kids and I don’t want to help you take care of yours.”

Milton Friedman would be proud.

* * * * *

Why do we allow anti-parent and kid rhetoric in spaces devoted to liberation? What are some of the various ways that anti-family attitudes manifest in anarchist/radical communities?

First of all, the dominant practice in the US is to segregate people by age, so many of us raised unquestioningly in dominant, white, US culture are not socialized to spend time around children or include them in conversations–much less consider their needs in a space, or provide a space explicitly devoted to children’s liberation. People unused to the company of kids are often wary of them because they can be painfully honest, direct and may not hide their disinterest in you. Elements of unfamiliarity and discomfort are often at play, and many of our gatherings, spaces and communities habitually take the default form of “adult-only”, indirectly (but repeatedly) excluding children and their caregivers.

This is simple enough to solve, given awareness of the problem and a collective willingness to expand our comfort zones. But actively exclusionary attitudes towards families and caregivers are less easily remedied. When spaces are unwelcome to children and parents, over and over again, regardless of any attempts on the parts of parents and allies to create a space of inclusion, we must assume that there is resistance to the presence of families. Or, as event organizers may have discovered, childcare is difficult work that requires tight planning, starting months beforehand, in order to come off without a hitch. Sometimes it’s easier to “forget” about it or claim that insurance won’t cover it. Word to the wise, event planners: two weeks before the conference, when interested parents start asking you about childcare arrangements, it is far too late to try to whip something up. At this tardy point, attempts to create childcare often fall short and may result in chaos and an unsafe atmosphere (not to mention that this last-minute responsibility often falls to burnt out women organizers or parents themselves). In my opinion, it’s better to chalk it up to experience, create a family hang-out spot, and put childcare on the list for the next event (starting on logistics from Day 1 of general planning). Good intentions are not enough–if you offer childcare, safety is a top concern, and you can’t afford to make big mistakes.  6

Perhaps I’m alone, but I believe that every event, unless inappropriate for children, should be accessible for kids of all ages (and their mothers, and fathers, and caregivers). Within many circles, this is often not the case. Saying a meeting is welcome to children, and then tolerating eye rolls and penetrating glances towards mothers and kids when little ones vocalize or run around (because they have not perfected the art of sitting still for a three-hour meeting) is not true accessibility. Caregivers often leave these events early, with the grim frustration that comes from knowing that our world truly is not set up with parents and young children in mind, and being reminded of this, rudely and repeatedly. In our society, life as the parent of a small child can be socially isolating, and many public places become “de facto” inaccessible. Scenarios such as these, in which children and parents are treated as an intrusion, are part of the problem, not the solution.

If you are hosting an event, it is helpful and kind to make a point of publicly welcoming the children there–both so the children feel welcome, and so the participants know that caregivers are not “out of place” for bringing a kid around. Yes, children can be disruptive or distracting–so it’s up to us as a revolutionary community to figure out the best ways of fitting them in, and empowering them, so that good work gets done and everyone goes home happy.

La Lubu, a labor activist, describes the “meeting culture” she has experienced as a mother: “Why am I barred from your feminist meeting, your environmental meeting, your political meetings, or your slow/local food/support farmers gathering, or…whatever? Why are those spaces considered ‘inappropriate’ for children? And why do you sigh and complain about public apathy when you have this arbitrary rule about ‘appropriateness’? Why is it so ‘inappropriate’ to raise a child with political consciousness and knowledge of power dynamics? Especially when she is already encountering this stuff in her own life, and needs a framework to put it in? It boggles my mind. It especially boggles my mind because I remember when it was not like this in the US. I grew up going to political gatherings of all stripes….and protests, and picket lines. When and why did left-leaning people buy into right-wing ideas of parenting and the role of mothers? Why are left-leaning people participating in the backlash against women’s growing political strength?”

One common assumption is that parents no longer have what it takes to be a successful activist. When Rahula became pregnant, she had this experience: “A ‘comrade’ (someone I had done a lot of running in the streets and food-not-bombing with) said, ‘Oh well, there go two good activists,’ as though surely my partner and I would no longer be active in any way, now that we were procreating.” The notion that parents have nothing of value to offer (and stale politics to boot) can become a self-fulfilling prophecy, as many revolutionaries and radicals with children find spaces less and less tolerant of them and eventually tire of doing work or seeking community in an unwelcome and alienating atmosphere. Additionally, the expectation that a parent have the exact same level of activity as a childless activist is eerily similar to the capitalist boss expecting a mother of a newborn to come straight back to work to resume productivity. Parents may not be able to do as much as they could prior to having children (although some may do more) but being a parent often builds our resolve, focuses our commitment to change and makes us more valuable, accountable and responsible. In my case, becoming a mother was the event that cemented my ties to anarchism and anti-capitalism. It’s best not to assume that parents are post-radical or post-militant–we lose too many comrades this way. Some of the most effective militant activity that I am aware of is undertaken by mothers. Some of us mindfully continue the high-risk activity that we did before we had children. This is as it should be if we want to create a revolutionary trajectory.

Anarchists often voice the opinion that all parents are capitalist sell-outs, as if parenting is just one more institution to be demolished. Those that make this assumption fail to have an appreciation for the culture of revolutionary, anti-authoritarian parenting. They don’t recognize that the problem is not parents themselves as a universal entity, but the cultural style of parenting that many of us have grown up in.

Possibly the most divisive issue in many communities is the question of population. The idea that humans should decrease our numbers or procreate less often can devolve into contempt for kids who are already here, and their mothers, who then get slapped with the unfriendly label “breeders”. Anarchist parents and their allies have plenty of feedback about this:

Brad says: “The fact that hating on parents has become so widespread and fashionable is troubling.  The fact that elderly folks are just about as ‘welcome’ as kids is also problematic.  I don’t think anyone needs to hear that our industrial-civilization social structure is fucked, and I’d suggest that the fucked-ness wrapped up in calling someone a ‘breeder’ comes the detritus of an atomized human experience, as opposed to a reasoned ideal to be strived towards.”

Dave says: “There may be ‘too many of us’, but what is far more significant is the consumption levels of the population. A far better tactic would be to massively reduce the average consumption level – which of course is already far lower than ‘average’ in many parts of the world. Activists condemning other people for having children are already on the wrong page. It’s an inherently anti-human standpoint, demonstrating incredible negativity about one’s own capability for positive impact. My advice: lead by example! Go and create sustainable communities, and learn the skills to help others make the transition to living in them.”

Adam says: “It is very easy for a white male from an industrialized country to say, ‘No one should have children’. When the main impact of a policy like this is on women and particularly women in non-industrialized countries…over population is just one of the things that is causing the destruction of the ecosystem. Consumption, particularly that of industrialized countries is another. These all have to be looked at and debated.”

The 12 percent of the world’s population that lives in North America and Western Europe accounts for 60 percent of private consumption spending, while the one-third living in South Asia and sub-Saharan Africa accounts for only 3.2 percent.  7   This over-consumption is, in effect, force-fed to the population by the powers that be. Let’s stop needlessly targeting parents and kids as the “problem” and keep the heat on the enemy–the most egregious polluters and consumers by far–the military and corporate industrial complexes.

Although I do not advocate for any ideology that advances population control as a realistic consideration, one point that may not be immediately apparent to zero-population growth promoters is: a culture that accepts and embraces families can have the indirect effect of lowering birth rates. A child-inclusive community helps us break away from the nuclear family expectation (those that wish to procreate must pair off and form a household unit in order to experience parenthood). The more we can raise our children in an accepting community where each child has many adults who commit to an ongoing caregiving role, the less every individual who wants a close relationship with a child will feel compelled to become a parent. When children find belonging in a larger, low-resource community, less people will feel the need to have their own biological children.

The population control argument is tone deaf to freedom struggles around the world. Many communities and cultures identify a form of resistance as creating the next generation of fighters–their children. This includes tribal groups, Palestinians, and other cultures whose right to bear children/exist has been contested by the corporate state. “Breeder” is also a word with a continuous history of racist use, used (both historically, and to this day) by white supremacists to describe slaves and poor women of color. Population control rhetoric (see the Sierra Club) often uses the same arguments that many ultra right wing groups/white power groups are making about the world’s oppressed populations. Let’s stop using the vocabulary of fascists.

A community committed to revolutionary liberation can agree–we should be free to decide to procreate or not procreate. Women should not be under political pressure to get pregnant or stay childless, whether under the rubric of population reduction, in the name of God and Country, or by any other coercive ideology. Being a mother should not be viewed as a centrality for women, or the pinnacle of womanhood, but a choice to be freely made without experiencing political coercion.

Finally, let’s speak pragmatically. In a revolutionary struggle that needs all the support we can get, why cut off the most powerful source of support possible–new generations? Taking the long view: in twenty years, you, me, and our comrades will be the older generation in the struggle (unless we’re living in a post-revolutionary society). If our liberation struggle has gained the reputation of being child-haters, why should youth feel any attachment to us, or choose to join our ranks as they grow older? If we insist on insulting parents and children, we will ensure that anarchism remains an insular, irrelevant movement of twenty-somethings who eventually drop out, rather than a multi-generational tidal wave of resistance that will meet our objectives.

* * * * *

This brings us to the question: what do intergenerational communities of resistance look like?

Connie says, “Everyone in our community is very supportive and has developed relationships with my children separate of me. I get to live vicariously through them in raising a girl, since I have two boys. I’d say this came out of necessity (financial, help in childcare) as well as a desire to share my life with folks. It’s a direct stand against the nuclear [family] situation I find so isolating. I’ve lived collectively for the last five years (2 with a baby) and I wouldn’t change it for the world. It helps that we’ve developed our relationships with each other and that our community is small and so we’re able to better support each other.”

Jacob says, “Our 16 month old loves a lot of our community members and runs laughing to hug them whenever we stop by or they stop by. At first it wasn’t quite this way and we did have to have a community meeting about the breeder/non-breeder divide, and now some friends of ours defend us parents really furiously when they hitch and travel around.”

Jason says, “Santa Cruz, CA has an enormously strong radical movement that is effective and beautiful, and they LOVE babies, they seriously love babies, you’ve never seen so many families at an infoshop. During the 2009 Santa Cruz Anarchist convergence which included a book fair and freeskool conference, they set up childcare through the entire 4 day event and prior to the event they did their best to help people get set up with places to stay, they had specific kid friendlier houses set up for incoming families. AND I went to multiple workshops that dealt with baby/family/youth AND older generation issues, every workshop I went to had babies in the crowd and never once did I see anyone be less than welcoming to families, it’s already part of the culture in the rad scene there.”

Roberto says: “What people don’t realize about children is, in an indigenous world, they are our teachers and angels sent to straighten our li’l childish asses up. Children Are Important, they are the next generation they are US.”

Children are a joy to have around. Yes, they’re also a pain in the ass, but so are adults. Children tend to lighten the atmosphere of any given event. I’ve been to meetings which were stuck in intransigent bickering and petty-minded back and forth fighting, and seen the presence of a child alone make people realize their shoddy behavior.

Kids offer simple and straightforward ideas for change. They are solution-oriented people who are still young enough not to have been completely disempowered and brainwashed by our culture. A world where everyone is free is easily within the realm of a child’s imagination. Kids are powerful allies to have in your camp. They understand the logic of direct action more than most adults. A child’s opinion can give you a fresh take on a problematic situation and often bring more wisdom than a whole roomful of adults put together.

A mature and effective radical and revolutionary movement has nothing to lose and everything to gain by creating multigenerational communities of resistance. A powerful example of the strength that can come from a generation raised in struggle and freedom is mentioned in the Zapatista’s Sixth Declaration of the Selva Lacandona: “It so happens that our insurgents, insurgentas, militants, local and regional responsables, as well as support bases, who were youngsters at the beginning of the uprising, are now mature men and women, combat veterans and natural leaders in their units and communities. And those who were children in that January of ’94 are now young people who have grown up in the resistance, and they have been trained in the rebel dignity lifted up by their elders throughout these 12 years of war. These young people have a political, technical and cultural training that we who began the zapatista movement did not have. This youth is now, more and more, sustaining our troops as well as leadership positions in the organization.”

A culture that does not embrace children, and our elders, is a culture of death. A revolutionary movement that is intolerant of children will always be stuck in an adolescent, easily co-opted phase, bubbling up and then fading into irrelevance. Whether you are a parent or an ally, helping to pass on our culture of resistance to the next generation is one of the most powerful ways of saying, “We’re here! Get ready, because soon it’s going to be OUR TURN!”

___________________

Special thanks to Vikki, China, Rahula, Jen. Erik, Tomas, Talia, Sienna and everyone on the A-parenting list for the continuous collective discussion over the years that helped me to develop this work.

Footnotes

1 This essay is generally intended for the predominantly white activist community, especially the anarchist community. This includes people that consider themselves post-left, autonomist, progressive, radical, insurrectionist, and revolutionary, as well as any formulation of ‘anarchist’. This is due to my observation (and gross generalization) that white communities and White Culture often have difficulty seeing the value of intergenerationality, although this is often less true of subsegments of white culture. I write from my perspective as a white, Southern/Gaelic, queer, middle-class raised, poor-for-almost-two-decades, food-stampin’ mama.

2  M/others: (self-identified single, teen and welfare mamaz) definition from the Allied Media Conference 2010

3  Comments after article: http://honeymoons.about.com/b/2007/01/07/screaming-3-year-old-ejected-from-plane.htm

4  1995 UN Human Development Report, Ch. 4: hdr_1995_en_chap4.pdf

5  Crittenden, Ann; The Price of Motherhood, 2001; Henry Holt and Co.; p.6

6 Don’t Leave Your Friends Behind zine is a great resource for allies and those who need help planning rad childcare. There’s a world beyond childcare, too–if you are planning a conference, you might consider a “kids track”. If you publicize it, chances are, a whole new group will come to partake of your event.

7  http://www.worldwatch.org/node/810

When I was a kid, my mom would take us on long road trips. These were the days before carseats and airbags, cell phones, radar detectors, or even mandatory seatbelts. I’d lay in my raggedy ann sleeping bag across the backseat, my sister would stretch out next to me across the floorboard and we’d fall asleep hot and sweaty with headlights flashing by, bumping down the highway. Sometimes we’d stop at a motel but other times my mom would just drive through the night until we got where we were headed. She had a portable CB radio that she’d connect to the cigarette lighter, and she’d listen to that to get news about traffic, accidents, the whereabouts of cops, and I guess, for entertainment. She got it from my grandfather, who was a hotshot pilot and a union man. The truck drivers were almost always male and I got to hear lots of colorful talk between the “10-4 good buddy”s and “breaker 1-9″s. My mom would fall in with a convoy of trucks so we could hear the same folks conversating for hours, and she’d often join in. I think her handle was “Fly Girl”.

I realized recently that my first idea of a culture of resistance, the idea that people outside the law could band together and fight back, came from these truck drivers sharing information with each other about the location of smokeys–police, of course. They’d be able to drive as fast as they wanted until someone would announce “bear at the 325″ and everyone would slow down and sail past the cop, then speed up a few miles later, neat and easy. It must have clicked with me as a kid, because I never bought into the idea that the rules made sense just because.

How did you first learn about resistance? Have any stories? Did you have a parent go on strike? Fight a battle at school? Tell your tale in the comments, and maybe we can share our stories of resistance with the next generation…

Read it, print it, distro it!

I can’t remember the day I became certain that our world will drastically alter during our lifetimes, that my daughter’s adulthood will take place in a possibly unrecognizable reality. I think it was about five years ago, when I began to understand the energy crisis–that there is not enough fuel on the planet to allow us to continue our way of life much longer (and even if there were, it’s not in our best interests to heat up our atmosphere any more).

Trouble is coming. Many folks would say it’s already here.

It is easy to think that things will keep on going as they have been–in fact, it seems practically impossible to alter the elements of our world that are not working. But the reality is, the world is on a radically new course, and each year will bring changes that we wouldn’t have been able to imagine just a short time ago.

I remember something a family member said, after 9/11, when they were finding envelopes filled with anthrax. “The people in authority will just fix things. They know what they’re doing. We can count on them to take care of us.” Then came the events of the last decade: endless war sold to the public under false pretenses, the failed response to Katrina, environmental devastation, the energy crisis, the reality of climate change, financial meltdown, mass unemployment and hunger. No matter how great your faith in the system, all signs are clear that something is wrong. The forces that hold “business as usual” together are unraveling.

It’s past time to wake up. Whether your politics are red, blue, or neither, it’s plain to see that the “people in authority” are, frankly, the blind leading the blind. Really, what more do they have to screw up that they haven’t already? We can no longer look up to the authorities for answers, solutions, hope. Their authority is not legitimate. They do not know how to fix the problems they’ve created. The only thing they seem to know how to do is to funnel more money into the pockets of the already rich. The important question is not, how can we get them to make things right, but: why do people continue to put their faith in authority, when those in power have squandered the people’s hope for so many years?

The simple truth is the people calling the shots full well understand how bad things have gotten, and the extraordinarily dire situation we are in, but it is not in their interest to alert the public, because if everyone collectively got the facts and compared notes, the economy would tank within days. True, a tanked economy would cause immediate hardship, which is a reality most of us are already experiencing. But there is an important point that the moneyed don’t seem to realize: the financial system is not too big to fail. Humanity can survive if Wall Street fails, but we absolutely can not survive without an intact planet. Our earth is the only thing that is “too big to fail”, and business as usual has pushed our planet to the brink.

Trouble is coming, and it’s overdue.

Our food systems, transportation systems, communication systems, our economy, and our lives are built up around a system that is falling apart. We have to wake up and realize that the old rules do not apply–we do not have the luxury of petitioning the powers that be to do our bidding and then wait while they fiddle as Rome burns. This is beyond right wing, left wing, progressive, libertarian, whatever–the situation is dire, and it is time to stop waiting for someone else to take care of our problems, or pointing the finger at other groups we think are to blame. Will it be too late when we understand that we can’t waste any more time focusing on getting the people in charge to do our bidding? We’ve played by those rules for too long.

Now, it’s our turn–it’s time to take matters into our own hands. This is beyond politics. If we want to avert disaster, we have no choice but to step up and build resilience, for our children, for our communities. Think I’m being alarmist? Understand: money in the bank is not going to save you. A 401K is not going to save you. A shotgun is not going to save you. Supporting the right candidate is not going to make everything okay. We are entering a new world where the old rules will not apply. Grab a shovel and pitch in. Working together just might save us.

Our communities need to be asking: what do we need to survive? Food, clean water, heat, shelter, friends we can count on, ingenuity, a few bikes, work we love doing, family, creativity, seeds, safe streets, love? Chances are, our ipods and Kindles are going to be much less useful than they are now. The solutions that will make a difference are going to be a lot simpler. An example: where I live in the mountains of North Carolina, we have hundreds of farms. Still, we import 95% of our food from outside the region. Soon we will not be able to cheaply import this food that we now count upon. If we want to avert mass hunger, we have to grow a lot more food locally. Many regions are even worse off than we are. That’s what we have to look at, whether we like it or not. It is going to get real, folks. Don’t be caught saying you didn’t see it coming.

The good news is, there are already thousands of people that have long realized these realities and are working on reclaiming their communities. There are answers, but they don’t depend on whether you vote Democrat or Republican, or how skillfully you can pin the blame on another group. The answers depend on how willing you and and the folks around you are to look reality in the eye and work together to build solutions.

Summer garden on Prince Edward Island http://3c2y.goldnet.ca/content/page/sustainable

If you’re not sure where to start: grow something this year. Start a simple garden or just plant a few seeds. Get to know more of your neighbors. Read some of the articles posted below. Build community where you’re at–not just online, but on your street. Stop depending on others to fix problems that have gotten far too out of hand. Empower yourself to take action! Together, we have the power to create change.

Further reading:

Is the World’s Oil Running Out Fast? http://www.countercurrents.org/porter090110.htm
Why Transition? http://www.transitionus.org/why-transition
Designing Energy Descent Pathways http://www.permacultureactivist.net/articles/EnergyDescent.htm
Urban Farming Revolution http://www.realitysandwich.com/urban_farming_revolution
Life Reclaimed: An Interview with Jared Manos http://www.yesmagazine.org/issues/sustainable-happiness/life-reclaimed

Seed oil production in Haiti

But I never stopped considering myself an anarchist.

During my hardcore anarchist years, the same tiresome things kept happening. I’d attend meetings or events and realize folks were glaring at my child. There was often a palpable feeling in the air “Who is this breeder? Doesn’t she know her kid isn’t welcome?” This always made me feel like saying, “Listen, you stinky motherfucker, your impressively righteous punk patches and by-the-book taste in music notwithstanding, you don’t get to decide whose party this is, and just because you’re uncomfortable with your own parents and class privilege doesn’t mean all parents, or all kids suck. It might mean that you suck, though. Now go throw a rock at a window and call it revolution.” But I never did, probably because I didn’t feel like inviting the backlash such a comment would bring.

As time went on and I became more vocal in the community, even more tiresome things kept happening: people continued to insinuate that my mama comrades and I were expecting a handout when we suggested they offer free childcare at events, somehow white men always dominated the discussion and organizing efforts and succeeded in drowning out the voices of those they did not agree with, and in one surreal instance, I was publicly compared to Andrea Dworkin, of all people, for standing up in defense of a fellow woman organizer. Too often I felt misunderstood and marginalized. All the evidence started to add up that, as much as I loved my community, it was not the right spot for me to do my work.

Realizing that I was perpetually on the verge of a giant rant, I decided that if my anarchist community refused to grow up, it didn’t mean that I had to do the same. So I dropped out, and started many humbling years as a just-scraping-by community organizer, trying to create human-scale neighborhood solutions aimed at solving some of the problems in places I lived.

But I never stopped considering myself an anarchist, even though that affiliation would make as much sense to many of my current friends and neighbors as “card-carrying Martian”.

In fact, I am a die-hard anarchist. (This, even, from a person who refuses even to describe herself as “feminist” because she has too many disagreements with what most people consider feminism.) The one label, other than mother, that I use with comfort is “anarchist”. I fucking love the ideology of anarchism. Even if I find it hard to connect with the theory of crusty old Russians–possibly more relevant to male industrial revolution-era workers than to poor mothers of the 21st century–I will always be passionately convinced that each person deserves access to all the necessary tools to make her life what she wants it to be. That we don’t have to go knocking on some rich, educated person’s door, or tug on our congressman’s coat, to ask politely for some solutions. That everyone on earth deserves justice, and to experience the richness of human life, now, not later, and that people should be held accountable for the messes we’ve created. That is my anarchism.

I just didn’t want to spend my life arguing with the people I thought should have my back.

Let me ask a question. What percentage of anarchist events, without being asked, provides childcare? Are there any anarchist communities in the US that provide elder care? There are uncountable ways we could address these simple issues, but for some reason we’d rather read about how they did things in 1930’s Spain than develop a nuanced and sustainable plan for a truly new society in the shell of the old. Hey, I love reading about the Spanish Civil War, too, but something is off when we’d rather talk at each other about times long past until we’re blue in the face because it is so much less risky to talk than to do the hard work of making things better.

Often, we ghettoize ourselves in our comfort zones, to a point that anyone that doesn’t fit the anarchist “description” feels as out of place as a fat woman in a fashion magazine. Hell, almost every anarchist meeting or event I went to with my kid, I was given the side eye. It gets old. One guy at the infoshop refused to pass off the keys to me because he didn’t “trust” me. Well, I guess he was right, I didn’t fit into his version of anarchism: a white boys club that holds endless geekout sessions about whether the police qualify as “workers”. Count me and my kid out, thanks.

Often, our concept of what is revolutionary is not really a mature concept of true revolution. If you’ve ever thrown a rock through a window, you know what I’m talking about. It feels good, but ultimately, someone just comes and fixes that window. It would be nice to really dismantle something, or really create something lasting. We need comprehensive solutions-based thinking, because these are some big-ass problems we’re dealing with, and when the going gets tough, daddy is not going to drive up in his SUV and solve them by throwing some money around. Neither is the government, which is being eaten alive by a corporate cancer and outsourcing more and more of its most basic functions, going to be able to deal with the reality of the situation in a few years. Will we be ready the day that no water comes out of the tap, that the light switch does not make the electricity come on? Katrina was just a dry run for some of the awfulness that could happen. And not enough people see it coming.

It’s time to walk the walk, not just talk the talk.

Another question: how much does a white-centric infoshop in a poor neighborhood of color really accomplish? What is the average lifespan of an anarchist infoshop anyway? I apologize for my bluntness, but please, don’t have the self-important illusion that you are really fomenting the revolution or helping anyone. Get your ass to community meetings, town hall meetings, listen, talk to people outside your comfort zone. Organize. Get yourself out of the anarchist ghetto.

Only the hard work of making things better will dismantle the current society by making it outdated and obsolete. Current “solutions” have already been obsolete for many of us: I haven’t had health insurance for 13 years. My food stamps were canceled this month. Folks, we need whole systems thinking and entire structures of mutual aid that are accessible to people who may not have social networks or anarchist caché. Where is the anarchist federation of time banks that organize community health care? Where are our anarchist restaurants with free food for poor single parents, disabled veterans and the homeless, locatable to all in the yellow pages? When the landlord raises the rent, again, where are our anarchist sanctuaries with safe, clean and cheap roomshares that are child-friendly?

We’re not doing good enough. We are too complacent.

But I never stopped considering myself an anarchist (and I can’t deny that I will always have a huge soft spot for even the most closed-minded black-flag scenesters who may not grow out of calling me a breeder). I believe, now more than ever, that anarchist principles are the answer. Every single anarchist needs to be a kick-ass community organizer–-we need to spread decentralized solutions-based thinking before it’s not too late, and fascist corporate capitalist “restructuring” solutions take over when disaster hits (like New Orleans, where I hear all of the public schools have been privatized, housing projects shuttered, and neighborhoods left to rot). We need to proactively empower our communities and brace for the coming disasters. The tidal wave will come, and we can carry on with our infoshops and punk shows, which are really comfortable, after all, or we can create accessible solutions that provide resilience for our families and our communities.

We can grow up and do more of the work that makes things better: creating community-based health care, organizing child and elder care systems of mutual support, opening intergenerational democratic free schools, turning unused properties into peoples’ art museums, planting permaculture gardens and food forests, organizing free transportation, sustainable community housing, public safety programs, anarchist conflict resolution and mediation centers, taking part in rituals that bind our community together. The possibilities are endless, and we’ve all imagined them.

Perhaps the best first step is to look for folks that have been doing this work in our communities for ages. Maybe that’s the person standing next to you at the punk show. And maybe it’s not.

April 2003

Anyone who doesn’t understand the concept of direct action should look at a two- year-old throwing a tantrum. This occurred to me last week after I witnessed the fury of my child’s first full-on kicking and screaming tantrum. There is a kernel of human genius in every pissed off child. What’s the easiest way to get what you want? Make a huge fuss about it– immediately. That is a concept familiar to any three year old, yet it is lost on most of us old folks. You don’t see toddlers going around signing e-mail petitions to get more Popsicles and less turnip greens for dinner. You don’t see toddlers registering to vote so they can choose between two morally bankrupt, intellectually bereft candidates. When small children want something, they do everything within their power to get it—-right now! And so it is with direct action.

A direct action might inadvertently inconvenience someone, but like a tantrum, those inconvenienced kind of have to admire the effort the whole event takes. You think, “My God, at least there’s someone out there still speaking her mind.” And somewhere, secretly, you’re wishing you could do the same thing. You remember the outrage you felt as a child when you began to figure out that the world is set up to prevent you from having any fun. Mom said everyone was nice but it turns out people are bastards. I feel like throwing a tantrum every time I read a newspaper. Call me immature.

Sometimes I think that’s why direct action doesn’t make sense to Americans. It goes against the Protestant work ethic: “Fun? Not when there is work to be done!” It goes against our heavily ingrained notion that authority makes the most sense—one should do what they’re told, speak when they’re spoken to. We’re almost happy when Mr.Red Tape show us more hoops to jump through: “The HMO needs documentation of my great-grandmother’s gallstone operation before they can authorize my first appointment with the optometrist? With pleasure! Anything else I can do for you while I’m at it?”

So it’s interesting, conversely, that our revolutionary American spirit, one of the things that makes us who we are, is the impetus to direct action. Don’t like it–do something about it! Don’t like the British overtaxing on their already overpriced tea? Throw it in the harbor and call it the Boston Tea Party! There’s always coffee, after all! Walk into a saloon and see a smooth character sidling up to your sweetie—-go and break a bottle over his head! Or two! We’ve always been that way. It’s one of those things you’ve got to love about America. Get a load of this event, described by Abigail Adams in 1777:

“One eminent, stingy merchant (who is a bachelor) had a hogshead of coffee in his store, which he refused to sell the committee under six shillings per pound. A number of females, some say a hundred, some say more, assembled with a cart and trucks, marched down to the warehouse, and demanded the keys, which he refused to deliver, Upon which one of them seized him by his neck and tossed him in the cart. Upon his finding no quarter, he delivered the keys when they tipped up the cart and discharged him; then opened the warehouse, hoisted out the coffee themselves, put it into the trunks and drove off…A large concourse of men stood amazed, silent spectators of the whole transaction.”

My question is: where are all the angry Americans now? Has the government managed to squelch every last voice of outrage? Where are our outlaws, our national conscience, our surly characters who are willing to do what it takes, even if it be outside the bounds of what polite society deems proper?

They’re out there, getting shot with rubber bullets by the Oakland Police Department. Or didn’t you hear about that?

They’re out there, getting arrested en masse by NYPD, for standing outside the headquarters of one of the vilest companies ever to slither its way onto the investment scene. Or didn’t you hear about the Carlyle Group?

They’re out there—or they’re in prison. Or didn’t you hear about the Patriot Act?

Everyone else is safe at home, so to speak, trying not to think about what might come next. Who is going to break a bottle over the heads of the limey bastards now? What would our revolutionary forefathers and foremothers say?

If you’re anything like me, you’ve begun to think that upsetting somebody’s old- fashioned sense of decorum if it gets something done makes more sense than waiting in a sinking boat, smiling inanely as the water closes over your ankles.

Don’t drown, waiting for the Coast Guard to bail you out. There’s a cup right there–bail yourself out. Or at least go down kicking and screaming. And if you’re lucky enough to escape, go throw a tantrum, because the boat that got sold to you was screwed up long before it came your way.

At many of the anti-war events I have been to in the last short while, the overwhelming sentiment is that something called “peace” should happen as soon as possible. Many of the events themselves are billed as being “for peace” and many of the participants carry signs and banner that speak about peace. Logical, right? Well, I’m gonna come clean. I’m wary of this “peace” idea. I can’t quite put my finger on why — but when I try to, I come up with more questions than answers.

For one thing, when I see people of color at marches and rallies, I rarely see them holding signs or banners that talk about peace. I notice that their signs, instead, often talk about “justice.” Why?

Aren’t justice and peace the same thing? Are they? Is justice peaceful? Is peace just? What is peace? Is it just peace and no fighting? Is it no bombs? For example, if peace happens, is the U.S. still allowed to engage in covert activities in Colombia? Can the CIA topple Chavez in Venezuela? Is that peaceful or not? What about other army projects — can our forces still occupy Afghanistan or parts of the Philippines and have troops just about everywhere else under peace? Can there be a military under peace?

Does it mean that if the U.S. stops dropping bombs on Somalia . . . I mean, the Sudan . . . er, no, I forgot, Afghanistan . . . oops, what I meant to say was Iraq . . . then there is peace? Or does it mean that if we stop the sanctions, then there is peace? Does it mean if we pay the Iraqi people $5 for every child lost since we first dropped bombs on them however many years ago, that there would be peace? Do we pay taxes that go toward building stealth bombers and not our own health under peace? Will some of our children still be hungry in peaceful times? Is peace ours? Or does it belong to everybody else on earth, too? And does it belong to the earth itself?

All these questions and no answers. Meanwhile, I’m still hearing this thunderous white cry for Peace! Peace! Peace!

I think I’ve got it figured out, after all. In peacetime, we don’t have marches and rallies for the young women that work in maquiladoras for worse than shitty pay making all the shit we use to clothe our own well-fed young women. In peacetime, we don’t have much of a problem ignoring the plight of sweatshop workers in our own cities. In peacetime, we don’t need to discuss the fact that our most favored nation is China.

In peacetime, we don’t have to listen to what our best trade buddy China does to Tibet, or to its own people. In peacetime, it seems to be easier to ignore that our good friend Israel is the recipient of the hugest percentage of U.S. foreign aid, and to be unaware of the fact that Israel is not so quietly or covertly going about their own campaign of ethnic cleansing against the Palestinians.

I wonder if the Palestinians thought the U.S. was at “peace” a few years ago when they began the latest intifada. In times of peace we don’t hear the ground we walk over every day screaming up at us, “What have you done!?” Most of the time, I’d venture that us white folks feel peaceful enough not to be bothered to look at the blood of the slaughtered indigenous peoples on our ancestors’ hands.

Maybe “peace” means that white people don’t have to hear about what our government does to other countries or what we’ve done inside our own borders. Maybe peace should otherwise be known as “free to go about our business without guilt nipping at our heels.” Maybe white people want peace because they hope it will keep death and danger at bay. When I see signs that say “Peace Now,” I often think to myself that it should read underneath, “(I am scared; I am guilty. I don’t want bad things to happen to me and my family.)”

My movement is the anti-imperialism, anti-oppression movement. I refuse to fight “for peace.” Does that sound angry? Does that sound uppity? Is that upsetting? I’m sorry if sounds that way, and let me be straight: I do not want war or killing, certainly not. But to ask another question, don’t we need justice more than we need a comfortable, air-conditioned, sound-tracked, airbrushed, leather-upholstered SUV-driving, sweatshop-clothes buying, racial profiling, meat-eating, bourgeois, mother-fucking peace?

If peace means that we go right back to the nightmare that we were living before we started dropping bombs this past week, then I don’t want peace, I want a revolution.