By H-Cat
A quarter of a century ago, as a teenager, I marched in the streets of Seattle as part of the people-powered “counter conference” that emerged in response to a meeting of the World Trade Organization, a global organization that allows non-elected businesspeople to bypass local laws. I had been raised Republican, but one reason I was out there, marching alongside hippies, union members, and cloistered nuns, is that I believed in the democratic process. I was sure, at that time, that the United States and every country was being governed in a fair and democratic way. The existence of an organization like the WTO challenged my vision of how the world was supposed to work. How could it be that a bunch of non-elected businesspeople had bypassed the democratic process and taken charge of everything? Enraged that this “unjust coup” had somehow happened, I hitched a ride into Seattle from the suburbs to join those protesting. I knew I needed to be there because the WTO stood against everything I believed was right.
What I hadn’t anticipated was that my entire worldview would be turned upside down during the days I spent at the protest — thanks to so many educators and truth-speakers present at the gathering. These people taught me that there were deeper, systemic issues that had been happening all along — they shared this knowledge through zines, pamphlets, speeches on street corners, songs, performances, and works of protest art. I especially learned a great deal from folks who took the time to explain to me one-on-one why they were there. I’ll never forget these two French cheese farmers who kindly took the time to explain to me and my protest buddies about how their livelihoods were being impacted by systemic machinations that aimed to put control over the means of producing goods into fewer and fewer hands.
The activist-educators seemed to take two approaches: sometimes they’d focus on a single instance of harm and then zoom out to explain how that instance was the result of part of a larger pattern. In other instances, they would share a list of the awful things happening, often as a list of demands. Whether or not these demands were feasible, the act of presenting these lists served an educational purpose: it helped those of us who were less aware catch up and quickly understand that these things were actually happening.
To seasoned activists, all of this was probably pretty boring, and maybe even disheartening. Just the same “tired talking points” they had already heard at rallies before. But I hadn’t been to any of those rallies. For me, I was learning all these things fresh, for the first time. These activist-educators were presenting me with information that defied the lies I’d been raised with. It was like I’d been living in a bubble, and that bubble was bursting. I was learning about a bunch of awful, large-scale things that had been happening all along. This is a vital first step towards truly fixing anything: How can these massive, systemic forms of yuck be changed if people aren’t even aware that they are happening?
Right now, a similar moment is unfolding all over the country as lots of people rise up for the first time. People are looking for answers… Now is a time for speaking with clarity about what’s really happening — about the things that have been happening all along.
It is only by working to name the harm that we’ll be able to end it. It is only through a process of putting words to forms of active harm that we can transform these things into history, and relegate them to the past. Now is a time for onboarding, and for speaking with clarity about the things we want to go away.
This moment may be the first chance in over 200 years to make deep changes to the way things are run in the U.S. Whoever tells the most compelling stories of how we got to this moment will dictate what happens next. Don’t let that work be done by revisionists or apologists. Now is a good time to look up the work of Elinor Ostrom, the Noble-prize winning economist who showed us that “the tragedy of the commons” is a myth.
A new system is possible — as long as we can still dream. Imagine what it would be like if our voices mattered? Imagine if we transitioned to a worker cooperative commonwealth where neighborhood councils made local decisions as part of a participatory budget process. We could restore the commons, rebuild public places where we can grow food and make art. We could build an economy that centers human and ecological well-being, with healthcare for all, robust access to education, tool libraries and maker spaces. It’s more than possible to transition to 100% clean energy — Scotland’s already there.
All the best things are still absolutely possible. In fact, this may be the moment in which we can get everything we ask for.