Someone told me the before the program that Chris Crass (coordinator of catalyst) doesn't talk, he preeches. We experienced that last week, when we were talking about what makes an effective organizer. Something is lost in the transcription, but trust me when I say that he took our breath away with these words:
"We need an ecosystem of roles. Not everyone can be an organizer. Not everyone can be Ella Baker, but Ella Baker helped millions of people play meaningful roles in the movement--while they were raising children, while they were working, sharecropping for most of the hours of the day. They might not have understood all of the political theory, but they knew they were doing something important because she was engaging their humanity.
"Part of so much current activist culture is: you have to show up 100% informed. If you don't know everything when you show up to a protest, you have to front it, fake it, run around so that nobody notices. Look: we are trying to mobilize millions of people to transform society so that we all can lead fundamentally different lives, not to build strong subcultures."
That resonated pretty powerfully, and has been a big take-away point for me on strategy over the past few weeks. I think the statement also articulates a healthier orientation towards learning in movement building, which has been unfolding over the course of our sessions.
This past weekend, we explored the themes of white supremacy, capitalism, and white privilege--with a heavy empahsis on history. Chris started our session by encouraging us not to front or to feel embarrassment when we don't know something, but to open ourselves with excitement to the opportunity to learn something new. He situated our session in a history of working people educating each other and creating theory that described their lives: from midnight schools where slaves went to learn to read, to union halls, socialist and anarchist study groups, consciousness raising groups and liberation schools. There is amazing power in common people developing the confidence that they/we can learn and understand history, and use that understanding to create change. The popular educator and radical historian in me rejoiced at this introduction.
A final thing I will note that relates to education, is how intentional the Catalyst Project seems to be in its leadership development of its own staff. Members of the Leadership Team who completed the Braden Program just a few years back lead many parts of each session. Their segments are thoughtful and well done, but their presentations are not as seemless and polished as those led by more experienced staff. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks: instead of relying on one or two paid staff members to lead the trainings, Catalyst is distributing the work so that a large handful of newer leaders gain experience planning, presenting, and facilitating large workshops. For me, it makes me think: "hey, with a little more experience, I could be doing that!" Really seeing that process of development is new and inspiring to me. And, the presence, participation, and support of a large number of Catalyst staff and coordinators makes it feel all the more like there's a large community of white anti-racist organizers out there who are continuing to develop their capacity, and helping others grow, in turn.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Orientation
Last weekend was our long awaited orientation weekend. It was interesting to gather first impressions of people who I know that I'll get to know in much greater depth over the next few months. The ABP leadership team and staff introduced themselves, and it was inspiring to hear about how they came to political consciousness and to anti-racist work, and to hear about the varied and important work they are doing now. A couple of parts of the weekend stand out to me:
On the second day of orientation, Clare Bayard and Amie Fishman talked about the importance of articulating a vision of the world we are working for, not just critiquing existing oppression (just like you were exhorting, Dad.) They led us in an excercise in visioning. I include below the questions that were used for the excercise, with permission from Amie.
"What is the vision of the world you are working toward? What is your vision of social justice? We all see a lot of violence and harm institutionally and interpersonally. If we could imagine all of that shifting, what would it look like in your home or family... you neighborhood, your town?
"How would people relate to each other?
How would people relate to the work they’re doing?
How would people relate to resources, the planet?
What is valued, who is valued and how?
"What kind of institutions would or wouldn't be in your neighborhood?
What kind of services and what would they look like?
What would the values would the economy be based on?
How would decisions get made about things affecting your neighborhood or town?
How would conflict be dealt with?
What kind of activities might be going on?
Think about other countries or communities. Are there ways they are organized or values that they share that inspire you?
What about things that exist in your life today that you'd want to be part of that vision? What structures, practices, or other things that work well do you want to hold on to? Are there things that you draw from your community or family that inspire parts of your vision?"
The second part of the orientation that will stick with me for a long time was a talk by movement elders Phil Hutchings and Sharon Martinas. It's stressing me out to try to distill their bios into one paragraph, because they both have over four decades of organizing experience. Phil Hutchings worked with both SNCC and SDS in the 60s, has been a part of a bevy of social change organizations in the Bay Area, and co-founded and is currently senior oganizer for the Black Alliance for Just Immigration. Sharon Martinas became an anti-racist solidarity organizer in 1966, was integral in organizing white students and staff to support the strike for Third World/Ethnic studies at SF State University, led by the Black Student Union and the Third World Liberation Front, and co-created the Challenging White Supremacy workshops in San Fracisco with Mickie Ellinger.
They dropped many pearls of wisdom, and I'd be hard-pressed to capture them all. Phil talked about how he moved beyond fear and middle class aspirations to act for liberation, meeting incredible people and learning more from their lived experience than he could have ever imagined. Sharon talked about how she worked to unite bitterly divided white student groups, and was successful because of their shared and absolute committment to the leadership of students of color.
Someone asked about sustaining involvement over the long-term, practicing self-care and avoiding burnout. Sharon responded by challenging both the terms "self-care" and "burnout." She said she doesn't like the term "self-care" because it creates a division within one's self, pitting one side of yourself against another. She said [paraphrased]:
"We absolutely need joy, and to make plans for the short, medium, and long term. When you incude excercise, sleep, eating, and looking at the sunset it's not that you're taking away from your current work: you are sustaining yourself for the long haul marathon of revolutionaries work. The work we are doing is building the power of the people, and last time I checked, I am one."
About burnout, she referenced Ron Chisolm of the People's Institute for Survival and Beyond:
"He said burnout is not about too much work; that's exhaustion. Burnout is a temporary or long term lack of vision. Reflect on why you believe in what you do, otherwise you will be getting coser to burnout. If you keep in mind that vision, it can pull you out of exhaustion."
The session ended with a beautiful statement. I think it was Phil who said this but I'm not positive:
"Once you enter this work, and get involved, you're not the same person as when you started. You never know what you're capable of until you do it. We need to transform what we think we are capable of, and then our politics can become more radical, more embodied, and more instinctual."
Who feels inspired?
On the second day of orientation, Clare Bayard and Amie Fishman talked about the importance of articulating a vision of the world we are working for, not just critiquing existing oppression (just like you were exhorting, Dad.) They led us in an excercise in visioning. I include below the questions that were used for the excercise, with permission from Amie.
"What is the vision of the world you are working toward? What is your vision of social justice? We all see a lot of violence and harm institutionally and interpersonally. If we could imagine all of that shifting, what would it look like in your home or family... you neighborhood, your town?
"How would people relate to each other?
How would people relate to the work they’re doing?
How would people relate to resources, the planet?
What is valued, who is valued and how?
"What kind of institutions would or wouldn't be in your neighborhood?
What kind of services and what would they look like?
What would the values would the economy be based on?
How would decisions get made about things affecting your neighborhood or town?
How would conflict be dealt with?
What kind of activities might be going on?
Think about other countries or communities. Are there ways they are organized or values that they share that inspire you?
What about things that exist in your life today that you'd want to be part of that vision? What structures, practices, or other things that work well do you want to hold on to? Are there things that you draw from your community or family that inspire parts of your vision?"
The second part of the orientation that will stick with me for a long time was a talk by movement elders Phil Hutchings and Sharon Martinas. It's stressing me out to try to distill their bios into one paragraph, because they both have over four decades of organizing experience. Phil Hutchings worked with both SNCC and SDS in the 60s, has been a part of a bevy of social change organizations in the Bay Area, and co-founded and is currently senior oganizer for the Black Alliance for Just Immigration. Sharon Martinas became an anti-racist solidarity organizer in 1966, was integral in organizing white students and staff to support the strike for Third World/Ethnic studies at SF State University, led by the Black Student Union and the Third World Liberation Front, and co-created the Challenging White Supremacy workshops in San Fracisco with Mickie Ellinger.
They dropped many pearls of wisdom, and I'd be hard-pressed to capture them all. Phil talked about how he moved beyond fear and middle class aspirations to act for liberation, meeting incredible people and learning more from their lived experience than he could have ever imagined. Sharon talked about how she worked to unite bitterly divided white student groups, and was successful because of their shared and absolute committment to the leadership of students of color.
Someone asked about sustaining involvement over the long-term, practicing self-care and avoiding burnout. Sharon responded by challenging both the terms "self-care" and "burnout." She said she doesn't like the term "self-care" because it creates a division within one's self, pitting one side of yourself against another. She said [paraphrased]:
"We absolutely need joy, and to make plans for the short, medium, and long term. When you incude excercise, sleep, eating, and looking at the sunset it's not that you're taking away from your current work: you are sustaining yourself for the long haul marathon of revolutionaries work. The work we are doing is building the power of the people, and last time I checked, I am one."
About burnout, she referenced Ron Chisolm of the People's Institute for Survival and Beyond:
"He said burnout is not about too much work; that's exhaustion. Burnout is a temporary or long term lack of vision. Reflect on why you believe in what you do, otherwise you will be getting coser to burnout. If you keep in mind that vision, it can pull you out of exhaustion."
The session ended with a beautiful statement. I think it was Phil who said this but I'm not positive:
"Once you enter this work, and get involved, you're not the same person as when you started. You never know what you're capable of until you do it. We need to transform what we think we are capable of, and then our politics can become more radical, more embodied, and more instinctual."
Who feels inspired?
Friday, February 11, 2011
Arrival
I arrived to the Bay Area safe and sound, thanks to my friends and family who helped me to prepare in body and spirit for this big adventure. I feel much gratitude for those who dropped me off and picked me up from the airport, who helped me pack up and store my things and who sent me off with good wishes and thoughtful, loving messages. Because of your support, I have been feeling relatively calm and solid as I've started exploring and settling in here, and preparing for the official start of the program.
So far, I've been enjoying getting to know little by little the diverse places that make up the Bay Area, and soaking up the sun, greenery, flowers, and abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables.
I've also started to notice how the political and social landscapes here differ from familiar ones. I'm sure those observations and understandings will evolve a lot while I'm here, but right off the bat, it is really weird to see things existing as institutions and mainstream practices that I've only experienced in small subcultural pockets. Forget recycling: whole cities compost here; there is a compost bin in every house and the city picks it up for you. It seems like everybody bikes here. Walking around, I happen on a gas station turned bio-diesel station and urban garden center. Where am I?
Earlier this week I met up with a few of the other out-of-town Braden program participants. They all seem quite interesting and thoughtful. People expressed some trepidation about the program, but, maybe because of what I've heard from the people I know who have participated, I feel a whole lot of trust that the program, the people in it and the people facilitating it are all going to be amazing.
As proof, I leave you this list of good questions that came up in during our very first meeting with one another):
How do we respect movement elders, or people long established in an organization or community, while at the same time voicing new ideas and critiques?
When we are the long-established members, how do we make room for new people and new ideas?
How do we challenge invisibilized hierarchy in supposedly non-hierarchical formations?
How do we practice self-care and challenge the abilistic expectation that people should be working non-stop for the movement?
What is the most effective way to challenge oppressive statements or behavior? What do we do with our anger around these situations? Is it ever appropriate to shame people? What is the role of compassion and gentleness?
What is the role of guilt in transformation? Is it always unhelpful?
I imagine we'll be chewing on these for a long time. Feel free to chime in if you know the answers :)
So far, I've been enjoying getting to know little by little the diverse places that make up the Bay Area, and soaking up the sun, greenery, flowers, and abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables.
I've also started to notice how the political and social landscapes here differ from familiar ones. I'm sure those observations and understandings will evolve a lot while I'm here, but right off the bat, it is really weird to see things existing as institutions and mainstream practices that I've only experienced in small subcultural pockets. Forget recycling: whole cities compost here; there is a compost bin in every house and the city picks it up for you. It seems like everybody bikes here. Walking around, I happen on a gas station turned bio-diesel station and urban garden center. Where am I?
Earlier this week I met up with a few of the other out-of-town Braden program participants. They all seem quite interesting and thoughtful. People expressed some trepidation about the program, but, maybe because of what I've heard from the people I know who have participated, I feel a whole lot of trust that the program, the people in it and the people facilitating it are all going to be amazing.
As proof, I leave you this list of good questions that came up in during our very first meeting with one another):
How do we respect movement elders, or people long established in an organization or community, while at the same time voicing new ideas and critiques?
When we are the long-established members, how do we make room for new people and new ideas?
How do we challenge invisibilized hierarchy in supposedly non-hierarchical formations?
How do we practice self-care and challenge the abilistic expectation that people should be working non-stop for the movement?
What is the most effective way to challenge oppressive statements or behavior? What do we do with our anger around these situations? Is it ever appropriate to shame people? What is the role of compassion and gentleness?
What is the role of guilt in transformation? Is it always unhelpful?
I imagine we'll be chewing on these for a long time. Feel free to chime in if you know the answers :)
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