‘activism’

On Rape Culture, Co-Opting, and #OccupyingEverything

Two weeks ago, a young woman at #OccupyWallStreet was raped in her tent. He was out on bail from another rape–and had been accused of assaulting another woman in the park.

Her rape was not the first. Another woman was raped in her tent at #OccupyCleveland–and was accused of being a spy from the government to make #OccupyWallStreet look unsafe. One woman was sexually assaulted and went to the police, only to be promptly dismissed with, “That’s what you get for sleeping away from home.” Needless to say, he did not pursue her assault.

In response to the rape at #OccupyWallStreet–which of course, is the one that is getting any press whatsoever–several women at Occupy Wall Street have united with Code Pink to make a women’s only “safe space” tent–a place where women can sleep without fear or risk of male intrusion and sexual assault.

Although the tent is durable and strong–a militaristic greenish gray, decorated with slogans like “we are strong women” and “strong women occupying wall street,” to me, it is an upsetting symbol of the feminine presence at #OccupyWallStreet. It is a crisis response–something that had to be erected because of the harsh realization that Liberty Plaza, a place that is supposed to be a beautiful symbol of the world that we wish to occupy (a world that is not only free of capitalism and corporate greed, but free of the systems of patriarchy, violence, racism, and discrimination that our current economic system institutionalizes) is not a safe space. Though the well meaning white people in the movement have claimed–and been criticized–for purporting that the movement is free from the race, gender, and class lines that once divided us, it has been made clear that these have not only shaped our pasts, but severely occupy our present.

The reality is, women are raped. This woman was raped, and she wasn’t the first and she will not be the last. The reality is, we are not in a social place where we can occupy a space equally without being preoccupied by concern for our safety.

The tent was erected the week following the rape. Though many people were supportive of the tent, and applauded the women who built it, plenty undermined its significance. In the park, some men grumbled that women claim that sexual assault is rape and overreacted to the situation. On the Internet, many commented articles about the safe space and the sexual assault problem with asinine comments like, “rapists are in the ninety-nine percent too.”

Here is the thing.

#OccupyWallStreet is a movement for economic justice. Unlike an ordinary protest–something where we have a protest permit, signs, and stand with megaphones on a street corner or in a public square for two hours–we have vowed to literally occupy the space until substantial change occurs in our system. There are no permits, as there is no respect for the traditional order that has governed and broken our system. Instead, there is a new system–something that has been built upon consensus, and now–due to the sheer size of the movement–is experiencing its own trials and evolution in political organization. At the root of this new system–no matter what the internal strife in operations–is the desire to model a society based on what we want to live in.

In this society, I don’t want to have to sleep in a tent away from everyone–a glaring symbol of my inequality and vulnerability. I don’t want to be segregated by my gender, because my gender is occupied by a certain set of issues and concerns.

As long as we are imagining idealism, and fearlessly advancing radical ideas, shouldn’t we be discussing a world without sexual violence? It is a necessary temporary fix to have a women’s only “safe space” in Liberty Plaza–but activism, and discussions around rape culture, rape accountability, and sexual violence should continue and be an integral part of a radical liberation movement. Ending the fight against sexual violence with a women’s only safe space effectively bails out rape culture–due to our broken justice system, and our propensity to easy fixes rather than discussions around systemic change, rape and sexual violence is not only ignored, but effectively enabled.

We need the same discussions around systemic roots, accountability, and collective justice surrounding sexual violence that we are building around corporate greed and financial terrorism (not to mention complete and utter disillusionment with our justice system). As long as we are exercising the radical imagination to reclaim our political, economic, and social system from the forces that have constricted and bound us in an eternal cycle of inequality, why claim ourselves a culture without sexual violence and educate and organize around #OccupyRapeCulture?

Badass Activist Friday Presents: Anna Lekas Miller

11.11.11 Joey | No Comments »

It’s Friday, and we all know what that means! Interviews with your favorite badass feminists and activists. Whether social media queens and kings, creative artists, sex educators, or just kick-ass personalities, these people harness righteous anger, instigate movements and inspire cultural change. We’re here to honor them and their work, but more importantly, to highlight how we can all get up, plug in, and Just Start Doing.

For this week’s interview, we looked a little closer to home, as we have a kick-ass intern here at The Line Campaign, who agreed to talk to us about Occupy Wall Street, and her involvement in the movement. Anna Lekas Miller is a student and activist based in New York. She previously interned at The Nation, and we are lucky to have her with us now!

Please introduce yourself to us! Who are you, what’s your activism, and how did you end up with us at the Line Campaign?

Hi! I’m Anna Lekas Miller–after growing up in a politically
left-leaning family in the Bay Area, I moved to New York for school
and through my questionably healthy co-dependence on political
activism and protesting wound up becoming an independent political
journalist, among many other things. I found The Line Campaign through
the wonderful online feminist world and reached out!

You’ve been getting really involved in Occupy Wall Street. Can you sum up the origins of the movement for us and give us some idea of how this all started?

#OccupyWallStreet began with a call and a hashtag from Adbusters–a
radical publication in Canada–to do just that–#OccupyWallStreet and
demand an overthrow of corporate power and financial terrorism,
starting September 17. I didn’t really believe that it was going to
happen, but the idea fascinated me all the same–could my country be
finally waking up and understanding how enslaved we are by our broken
financial system and the myth of the American dream? I tormented
friends (and random people in cafés and bars–apologies to all those
adversely affected) with hushed radical talk that entire week,
bursting with energy and telling everyone that it needed to be huge.
The day of, I didn’t really believe it was going to happen–but then I
saw a tweet from Tunisia wishing Americans luck from #SidiBouzid and
knew it was real!

So I went to #OccupyWallStreet at 11 in the morning–back then it was
just Wall Street, and it had already been blocked off by the NYPD.
Eventually, around 1,000 people turned out, we were trying to figure
out a game plan since Wall Street had already been closed…and after
a short march, we found Zuccotti Park. That night, we learned that the
park was privately owned and we would be allowed to stay. That is how
a drab concrete square with a few straggly trees and a bizarre red
structure became the cradle of the revolution.

The first week was rough as far as media coverage–most of it was that
it looked like Bonaroo, and most outlets (at best) judged it at face
value, rather than taking the time to do proper journalism and talk to
people. The first New York Times article was absolutely awful. Plenty
of other publications took more time to criticize the protestors, even
before attempting to understand them. However, gradually it picked
up–several labor unions formally aligned themselves with the
movement, and many great contemporary thinkers and celebrities voiced
their support and visited the occupation. Soon, the occupation spread
to other parts of the country–#OccupyAmerica, and on October 15th, to
cities throughout the world–#OccupyTogether. It is a global movement
for a truly global restructuring and redistribution of power and
capital.

Where do you see the role of women and feminism in the movement? How would you respond to things like the “Hot Chicks of Occupy Wall Street” Tumblr or the recent incidence of sexual assault?

When #OccupyWallStreet began it had a big problem with a sort of
alienating idealism–though everyone is incredibly well-meaning and
dedicated in theory towards economic justice for all, idealistic
language that purports a movement that is post-racial or post-gender
is frustrating for those of us who have been occupied by the
socio-political identities and dynamics of being female, of color,
queer, or trans. Fortunately, many people have spoken up, and
organized working groups such as the People of Color Occupy Wall
Street working group (which I wrote about at AlterNet) and the Queering Occupy Wall Street working group. Unfortunately, I think that the latest developments–the rape and sexual assault allegations and the women’s only safe space–are a stunning reminder of how long we have to go until we are post-gender and able to equally occupy a space and share a movement. Most of the occupiers have been supportive of the new tent, although many–myself included–are upset that it is needed in the first place. Hopefully it will be an opportunity to discuss very real issues facing women and create allies in the constant battle against gender-based violence.

As far as “Hot Chicks of Occupy Wall Street” is concerned, its
problematic from so many different angles. First and foremost, it is
problematic because it is consumed as harmless media that is “funny”
or dismissed with a “boys will be boys” attitude. If we are fighting
for a world for true equality, where economic justice overlaps with
gender justice, and all people are released from institutions that
constrict their economic futures–whether those forces are corporate
interests, big banks, or patriarchal social structures–we cannot take
these representations lightly. It is not a boys’ club revolution,
where the white boys hop around and play revolutionary while the
pretty girls are their for show and objectification–we are 51% of the
99% and we understand disproportionate economic oppression all too
well. #OccupyWallStreet needs to be a revolutionary space where women
are valued for their contributions to the movement, and listened to
and taken seriously in a way that we are not always–unfortunately–accustomed to. #OccupyWallStreet, if harnessed in the right way, is an opportunity to change this once and for all.

As long as we are on the subject, the way #OccupyWallStreet is being
treated in the mainstream–and even sometimes independent–media is
male (need I say white male?) centric. Many television programs that
have followed, and embraced the movement have disproportionately male
guests–when there are plenty of female journalists and organizers who
have tirelessly made the movement the heart and soul of their recent
work. TIME magazine recently published a particularly asinine blog
with the headline, “Why Aren’t Women Tweeting About Occupy Wall
Street?” This was especially annoying for journalists such as myself
and Allison Kilkenny of The Nation and In These Times–who have been
tweeting the movement since day one, before anyone knew whether or not
it would take off–and several other bad ass female journalists such
as Sarah Jaffe, Tana Ganeva, and Sarah Seltzer of AlterNet who have
written extensively reported, quality content and are all avid
tweeters. Melissa Gira Grant and Susie Cagle are also fantastic
media-makers, writers and tweeters…there are many more!

Where is the movement going? What do you think the goals are, and what would need to happen for you and other protesters to feel like you’ve achieved change?

I have no idea–the movement takes a new direction and provides a new
surprise everyday! I think that in our journey to become an inclusive
movement, something that is fueled by the complete and undiluted power
of the ninety-nine percent in its entirety, we need to focus on how it
can be supported by those who are not necessarily occupying, but have
the same demands of the occupiers. Though the occupations are exciting
public spaces that are instigating a lot of media attention–and more
importantly, networking and dialogue–it is time to organize tactics
so that literally everyone can work together to reorganize a more fair
economy. Let me explain some tactics!

Check out this video to get you started.

Bank Transfers – November 5th was bank transfer day–thousands
organized and closed their accounts at the big banks that crashed the
economy, and moved their money to smaller banks or credit unions. It’s
not too late–November 5th was just the beginning! Check out Lynn
Parramore’s article to get you started.

Conscientious Consumption – Spending money is what keeps the economy
going, but in our recession many of us have embraced corporations that
promise us low prices–at the expense of unregulated and unfair
labor–while we’ve been hurting. It’s time to divest from corporate
powers–it can be as simple as buying coffee at the neighborhood
coffeeshop instead of Starbucks, or patronizing a local bookstore
instead of Barnes and Nobles.

What else would you like to tell us, about Occupy or anything else you are currently involved in?

I think that this movement resonates with Americans in an amazing way.

I used to say that I was born in the wrong era–I wanted to be born in
the ’60s and ’70s, a time when people cared about politics and were
doing something about it even if it involved being an extra body at a
sit-in or protest, their presence was being energized by a greater
cause. I realized, with #OccupyWallStreet that I was born in exactly
the right era–I am lucky enough to part of a unprecedented energetic
political movement that is spending the time to deconstruct and
recognize the myriad of ways that our system is broken, toxic, and
outdated and participate in a democratic process to collectively
change it. I am part of a generation that has chosen to fight back,
rather than remain complacent, and use their bodies, minds, and
actions to challenge and reclaim power in whatever way is possible.
It’s chaotic, disorganized, and there have been serious challenges and
contentions to work through–but it has grown into a beautiful and
powerful movement dedicated to a radical re-imagining of an economy
based on conscientiousness and justice.

It might seem crazy–but really, what else are we going to do?
Everyday, someone asks me and thousands of others in this movement,
“why?” There are dozens of answers to this, but I personally think the
most pertinent answer is, “why the hell not?!”

Lastly, I hope whoever is reading this joins us–whether in body or in
spirit. It’s only going to get bigger!

Thank you for your time and your fantastic answers!

The Future of Feminism is the The Feminist Blogosphere

11.10.11 Jamie | No Comments »

Gloria Steinem graces the November 7th cover of New York Magazine
featuring the oral history of the beginnings of the feminist movement
through the founding and publication of Ms. Magazine not
to be missed. In the same issue Emily Nussbaum provides readers with an overview of the growing feminist blogosphere “bypassing the press” to promote feminist issues in “The Rebirth of the Feminist Manifesto.”

Touching on some of the same issues, Courtney E. Martin reported in the Nation in the story “You are the NOW of Now! The Future of (Online) Feminism” about the growing need to acknowledge where much of the important work is being done these days for feminism. In regards to online feminism Martin writes, “It can be—and it already is—the conduit between those fully devoting themselves to professional feminism and those who care deeply and want to be engaged citizens, but don’t have the luxury of working within the movement.” Nussbaum explains how the feminist blogosphere has changed the platform for the feminist cause by including the acceptance of porn, transgendered-rights and lobbying for gay marriage. (That said, I was definitely disappointed by the poor representation of queer feminist bloggers in both articles.)

As a feminist blogger I’m thrilled to see the feminist blogosphere given the credit it’s due, and to hear Martin articulate the necessary shift in paradigm from the current funding models which don’t support most online work. Martin notes, “Online organizing has infused new energy—not to mention drawn thousands of newly minted feminists—into the feminist movement, and yet the movement’s financial backers haven’t caught up to the new reality.” Shelby Knox, director of Women’s Rights Organization compares the rise of online communities and commentary on feminist issues to the consciousness raising groups of the sixties and added that the common “martyr complex” of many activists has got to the tossed should feminists continue to thrive in this new direction.

Both articles mention many of the same feminist websites to watch including Feministing, Radalicious, Jezebel, Hollaback, Tiger Beatdown and the F-Bomb. Certainly the movement behind screenings of The Line is part of this feminist blogosphere community. Additionally, The Line Campaign’s Circle of 6 Ap which recently won the White House #AppsAgainstAbuse Challenge and Hollaback!’s App may change the face of how individuals and communities respond to sexual harassment and assault.

Along with Martin I too wonder how long will it be before the political feminist funding model catches up to support the work of the feminist blogosphere? Though this remains to be seen, I’m excited to be a part of a feminist movement made more accessible and look forward to seeing how blogs, apps and other social media continue to shift the make-up and reach of the movement.

Making Safer Spaces: Occupy Wall Street Addresses Questions of Security at Zuccotti Park

11.7.11 Joey | No Comments »

Our friend and ally Melissa Gira Grant wrote an article on AlterNet about how to ensure the safety of Occupy protesters.

She writes,

The question of how safe Liberty Plaza is – and for whom – has consumed occupiers and critics for weeks. With Bloomberg and his ad hoc protest committee within City Hall seizing on the issue of public safety as rationale for breaking up the protests, occupiers are working overtime to hold the park from threat of eviction, as well as to prove to the City that they are capable of keeping their own peace. That’s meant addressing reports of sexual assault, along with rumors that NYPD are directing the homeless, drug users, and people struggling with mental illness to the park, and grappling with how to effectively prevent violence without relying on the kinds of policing that have been used against the occupation. Where once the occupation was thought of as its own demand, now the demands of how to keep occupiers safe dominate their days.

Check out the whole article, it’s a worthwhile read! You can also follow Melissa on Twitter: @melissagira

SlutWalk and the Legacy of White Feminism

11.7.11 Maggie | 1 Comment »

SlutWalk: NO ONE has the right to touch you without your consent. SlutWalk NYC is part of a worldwide grassroots movement challenging rape culture, victim-blaming and slut-shaming, and working to end sexual and domestic violence.

When I learned of this international movement, I immediately liked how it sounded. Let’s chant, shout, march, rally about our right to BE. To be where we want, with whom we want, dressed how we want, and even drinking if we want. Let’s shift the blame where it belongs: to the perpetrator, not where it usually lingers, with the survivor. Let’s acknowledge that sexual violence exists everywhere.

As a young, queer white womanist, I quickly embraced the goals of SlutWalk. I have a right to my sexuality, and I am exhausted from trying dispel myths that women in touch with their sexuality deserve violence. In the last month, however, I feel like SlutWalk and I require a “break.” I need some space away from her to decide if this is really going to work out. In October, several white women at SlutWalk NYC displayed a sign, proclaiming “Woman Is the Nigger of the World.” None of the other protestors intervened, and quite some time passed before someone asked the organizer of the event to have the sign removed. Why did no one find this problematic? Why have women of color been the primary voices responding, facing accusations of hypersensitivity and divisiveness?

As the author of “I Saw the Sign but Did We Really Need a Sign?: Slutwalk and Racism” suggests in her post, this poster shocked many members and supporters of Slutwalk, but more importantly, it serves as a symbol of the deeper inequalities and exclusion that exist within mainstream feminism. All women are NOT the same, and to link a racial term with all women negates individuals’ distinct lives. While a reclaiming of the term “slut” speaks to many women’s experience, women of color have dual identities (if not more), balancing sexism and racism. They have traditionally been oversexualized, do not necessarily identify with the term “slut,” and may not wish to embrace this painful stigma. The mere fact that SlutWalk centers around a term that theoretically applies to everyone indicates the lack of diverse voices in the creation of this march. Have women of color been genuinely included in SlutWalk? Do women of color feel safe at SlutWalk? While I cannot cover all intersections of identity in this blog post, I also must ask about disabled women, who are often considered asexual and undesirable, which isolates them from this approach to sexual violence, despite their disproportionately high rates of victimhood.

While I am not raising points that other authors have not addressed, I believe it is essential for supporters of Slutwalk to acknowledge and to consider the intersectional impact of this movement. How does it (or do we) continue the legacy of wealthy, heterosexual, able-bodied white feminism as the feminism? How have the organizers of various Slutwalks marginalized or prioritized the perspective and needs of women of color? Is there any way to reorganize the march to create an empowering event for all survivors?

It is tempting to wonder if SlutWalk could simply be renamed. If it were “HoWalk” or “JezebelWalk” would it be more inclusive? The problem extends beyond terminology to structural inequalities, and our belief that all victims or potential victims could rally around one term reaffirms these disparities. Some ask if the entire concept is too tainted at this point to reconstruct. Still, Slutwalk has become a powerful movement, one that has gained momentum across national borders, religion, race, sexual orientation, age and ability. It offers the potential to break deeply embedded myths about who makes “the perfect victim,” who actually deserves the blame, and to establish the reality of abuse in our society. Furthermore, if feminists, black feminists, womanists and everyone in between pause for a moment—pause to assess how we can truly collaborate, represent, include, and act—perhaps the revamped (insert name here)Walk truly could be a uniting force for changing rape culture.

Badass Activist Friday Presents: Steph Herold

11.4.11 Joey | No Comments »

This week, we talked to Steph Herold, the person behind I Am Dr. Tiller. She is a reproductive justice activist and founder of the blog AbortionGang, a blog for young people in the reproductive justice movement. She tweets as @IAmDrTiller.

And without further ado, here’s our conversation!

Tell us about the origins of your project, I am Dr. Tiller. How did you get started and what did you hope to accomplish? To what extent have your expectations been met?

I was working in an abortion clinic in May 2009 when Dr. George Tiller was murdered. I had worked with him before, not closely, but sent patients to his clinic knowing they would receive compassionate and respectful care. The news of his assassination was devastating to me, as it was to the whole abortion provider community. We had a staff meeting at the clinic to discuss how we were feeling about his death and of course, our safety going forward. What came out of that meeting was the feeling that while we do everything we can to make sure our patients feel safe telling their abortion stories, abortion providers don’t have a place to share their experiences. I decided to take on this project and set up the site over the next day or so.

One of my goals with IAmDrDiller.com is to humanize abortion providers – to show that clinicians, abortion fund volunteers, clinic escorts, and all of us who work or have worked in abortion care are people with hopes and dreams, people who come to this work with compassion and deep respect for the decisions pregnant people make about their bodies. I hope that it has become both a space where providers can share their experiences and where others can learn what kind of people are called to this work.

It seems like the abortion debate is getting more and more heated every day, with personhood amendments being discussed left and right, and people like Michelle Bachman proclaiming their anti-choice views, to name just two examples. What are some of the reasons, in your opinion, that we still haven’t gotten any further in securing reproductive rights? How are women impacted by the situation?

This should be someone’s PhD dissertation! To simplify things greatly, there’s been a conservative backlash since President Obama’s election (look at the Tea Party, for example). Conservatives are trying to latch on to old ideals–fictions, really–like “family values” to regain their voice in the mainstream, because they are losing the cultural battle against progressive ideals (see: popularity of gay marriage). Too often they use abortion as a distraction from what they’re really targeting: the civil rights of people not like them, ie people of color, women, LGBTQ folks, low-income folks, etc. The challenge is how to successfully re-demonstrate to the public that their proposals, when they become law, have dangerous implications for the future of civil rights in the US, including but not limited to women’s health.

One huge factor specifically in the struggle to protect reproductive rights is not prioritizing the needs of poor women. The Hyde Amendment, which prohibits Medicaid funding for abortion, has been in effect since 1976. Byllye Avery, founder of Black Women’s Health Imperative, once said, “When Medicaid was paying for abortion, that mere fact stated to women that it is all right to have an abortion if you want to. Taking away Medicaid funding says to poor women, ‘you can’t have this—you don’t deserve to have this.’” By sticking to the status quo of the Hyde Amendment, we’re saying that women who live paycheck to paycheck, who are below the federal poverty line, don’t deserve to have their insurance cover abortion care, but middle class women deserve coverage for the same procedure. It’s class warfare at the most basic level. When you see mainstream pro-choice organizations fighting for private insurance coverage of abortion but not saying anything about the Hyde amendment, this is the stigmatization of poor women in action.

It’s easy to see how the Hyde Amendment impacts a woman’s ability to access abortion care. If she lives in a state where Medicaid doesn’t cover abortion (most states), she has to come up with the cost of the procedure herself. Depending on how far along the pregnancy is, the abortion can cost anywhere from $300 to $12,000. Can you imagine coming up with that on your own, especially if you’re already struggling to make ends meet? After the first trimester, the cost of an abortion typically goes up week by week. While a woman is saving up money for her procedure, she may actually be “chasing the fee,” that is, by the time she raises the money for an abortion at 12 weeks, she may be 14 weeks pregnant, so the cost has gone up. This doesn’t even take into consideration the state-mandated hoops she may have to jump through to get the abortion, such as mandatory waiting periods or state-mandated counseling sessions.

Grassroots organizations called abortion funds exist to help women pay for abortions they otherwise wouldn’t be able to afford. You can find out more about abortion funds and how you can get involved to help low-income women access safe abortion care here.

This, of course, is only one piece of the puzzle. I fully believe in using a reproductive justice framework, which means fighting for all people to have the “social, political and economic power and resources to make healthy decisions about our gender, bodies, sexuality and families for our selves and our communities. Reproductive Justice aims to transform power inequities and create long-term systemic change, and therefore relies on the leadership of communities most impacted by reproductive oppression.” (this definition courtesy of Asian Communities for Reproductive Justice).

Where do you see a connection between the fight to end sexual violence and the fight for reproductive justice?

Both movements are fighting for basic human rights: for all people to be treated with dignity, to live free from violence, and to have access to the comprehensive health care resources that they need. Our movements are about navigating the line between the public and the private: how much is my body mine?

Both movements challenge stigmatizing, deeply rooted sexist myths. The public’s imagined ”perfect” sexual assault victim is innocent, white, middle class, and wasn’t “asking for it.” The public’s imagined woman who has an abortion is an irresponsible, selfish baby-hater. As we know too well, both sexual violence and abortion affect all types of people: anyone can be a survivor, and anyone who can become pregnant can have an abortion.

Both movements challenge the idea that shame and stigma should be associated with our experiences, whether it’s sexual violence or abortion. To counter this stigma, we have speak outs, we take back the night, we march for women’s lives.

Women of color, trans folks, and low-income people are often both at the center and left out of our movements. Both movements are struggling to genuinely incorporate intersectionality into a classically second-wave feminist framework.

What allies do we have in terms of politicians and organizations? Who should we support if we want to help?

There really are some amazing reproductive justice-centered organizations out there. I can’t possibly name them all, but here are a few: SisterSong Women of Color Reproductive Justice Collective, National Latina Institute for Reproductive Health, Black Women for Reproductive Justice, Asian Communities for Reproductive Justice, SPARK Reproductive Justice Now, National Network of Abortion Funds, Black Women’s Health Imperative, California Latinas for Reproductive Justice, Native Youth Sexual Health Network, among many many more.

All of these organizations deserve respect and support. If you’re looking to get involved in grassroots reproductive justice work, I’d recommend looking up your local abortion fund and asking how you can help. Or if you don’t have a local fund, start one!

Are there any projects that you are currently supporting? Anything that you’re excited about and would like to share with our readers?

I’m on the board of the New York Abortion Access Fund, the abortion fund for New York State. We’re gearing up to celebrate our 10th anniversary, so that’s something to keep an eye on. I’m hoping to be on a panel about abortion stigma and story sharing at the next CLPP reproductive justice conference with Kate Cosby Cockrill of Advancing New Standards in Reproductive Health and awesome activist Katie Stack. I also founded and continue to write for a blog called the Abortion Gang, a community blog for young people in the reproductive justice movement. I’m always up to something–for people who are interested, feel free to follow me on twitter!

Thank you for your time and your great answers, Steph!

“Beauty in Truth” – a film about Alice Walker

10.27.11 Joey | No Comments »

Have you heard about the documentary Beauty in Truth yet? It’s a film about author, poet and activist Alice Walker, directed by award-winning filmmaker Pratibha Parma and her partner Shaheen Haq. The two have finished shooting the movie, and as they start the editing process, they need all the support that they can get. On the MS Magazine blog, Aishah Shahidah Simmons is asking for all of our help on their behalf. Check out Simmons’ article, and learn more about the film and what you can do to support it on it’s IndieGoGo page.

Oh Bondage! Up Yours!

10.25.11 Joey | No Comments »

Shira Tarrant is asking for your participation. In her new article at the Huffington Post, she talks about the importance of music to the activist movement, and lists some examples from the Dixie Chicks, Pete Seeger, or the band X-Ray Spex.

We’re in the middle of a global activist movement right now with Occupy Wall Street, and Shira asks:

What music moves you to fight unjust power and create a vision for a better world? What are you singing and what do you have to say?

Check out her article, and help her create “our collective mixtape, the soundtrack to our era”

Misogyny, Activism and Occupy Wall Street

10.24.11 Joey | No Comments »

Feministe’s Jill has written a very spot-on article about the Hot Chicks of Occupy Wall Street tumblr.

This sums it up nicely:

If you’re at an event and you strike up conversation with someone cute? Wonderful. But creating a blog and a video dedicated to showing women at a protest with the sole purpose of reminding dudes that women at the protest are hot? That does reduce women to objects of male attention. It’s another reminder, for women, that how seriously we’re taken and how valuable we are depends on how sexually attractive we’re deemed.

Check out the whole article here: Steven Greenstreet proves he’s definitely not a misogynist by making rape jokes.

Badass Activist Friday Presents: Fivel Rothberg

10.21.11 Joey | No Comments »

This week, we talked to filmmaker Fivel Rothberg, who is just putting the finishing touches on his documentary House Devil, Street Angel, a very personal story about depression and abuse. If you would like to support him in this, you can check out the movie’s website or the project’s Kickstarter site. But first, let’s hear some more about Fivel’s activism and his current project.

Introduce yourself to our readers! What has your journey to activism been like? Did you find your way here on accident, or was it a purposeful journey? Where do you see your role as an activist and what are you trying to achieve in your work?

I am a Brooklyn-based, Philly born and raised, father of a 13-year-old son, Noam. I’m also a media maker and I teach two courses at a small SUNY college in Long Island. My route to activism regarding abuse, mental illness and masculinity has been an incredibly challenging one. It is a purposeful journey now, but it was a circuitous path. And it’s one that is constantly evolving as I strive to learn more about gender based violence, and in turn share my story in House Devil, Street Angel to spark dialogues about issues like abuse, depression and fatherhood. My aim with the film is to use it as a consciousness-raising tool, primarily with men. We need to be able to learn how to talk about these issues with one another, support each other and grow as men.

Years ago, I considered myself a media activist. I helped to establish the Independent Media Center in Philly (Philly IMC) and later worked for organizations like Scribe Video Center & the Media Mobilizing Project (MMP). For a time, I volunteered with the Kensington Welfare Rights Union to produce a cable access-style TV show about poverty in Philly and the nation. I wanted to use my skills, and class and race status, to aid marginalized people in producing their own media. It’s still pretty standard in the documentary and social issue media world for people of great privilege to speak on behalf of the so-called “voiceless.” Even though access to the Internet and cheaper recording devices has revolutionized the media landscape, the paradigm remains the same. Places like Scribe and MMP flip that paradigm, and that’s what I love about them.

You’re currently working on finishing up your movie House Devil, Street Angel, an autobiographical documentary about the abuse cycle and depression. When and how did you come to decide to make such a personal film? What has the experience of making this movie been like?

It’s been insanely challenging. I completed a large portion of this film as my thesis project at Hunter College, where I graduated back in January 2011. But I didn’t want to work on it for a while after graduating because it was so emotionally draining. I recently came back to the film because I know in my heart that it has value. And I’ve been told that it has value by my peers and advisors. Most importantly, I’m motivated by the sincere emotional responses that I’ve gotten when I’ve shown it to groups of men. Certainly, people of all genders can connect with the film, but I think it’s been particularly meaningful for men to hear someone be so open about their struggles as a father, a man with depression, a survivor of abuse and as a former perpetrator who has come around.

I first started documenting how my son goes back and forth between vastly different households when he was about two or three-years-old. And I thought that I would eventually make a film about his experiences as a child of a very privileged white Jewish dad and a poor Puerto Rican mom. Our families lived only miles apart geographically, but they were worlds away socially. My son’s mom also came from an abusive home; on top of that she faces additional challenges to face as a Latina, that was really eye opening too. It inspired me to work on the rights of Puerto Rican political prisoners and learn the history of one of our nation’s oldest non-mainland colonies.

After being a shitty partner, and a totally freaked out young dad, I worked on being a new kind of father to my son. When Noam’s mom and I broke up, he would spend half of the week with me and half of the week with her. When he was about seven-years-old she moved out of Philly with Noam and her boyfriend. I later I decided to finally leave Philly and pursue grad school in NYC. During grad school I slowly began to approach making more personal work. Judith Helfand, who made Blue Vinyl and Healthy Baby Girl, said that successful documentaries depend on intimate access to one’s subjects and as a filmmaker with few resources you are your own best subject. I didn’t have to work for years to build trust with my son or family – they’re part of the package.

So with that in mind, I began a project that I had put off for years – a doc about Noam’s experiences. Yet, I found that problematic and realized that this film opened up unresolved issues – like how abuse, trauma and neglect made me the person and parent that I am. So that began the arduous but beautiful process that is represented in House Devil, Street Angel.

You’ve already connected with some non-profits and started showing your movie. What has it been like for you to share your work? What kind of reactions have you gotten so far, what conversations have you sparked?

Thus far, several dozen people have seen the film in its rough cut stage. And after being inspired by projects like The Line Campaign, I knew that I needed to reach out and get non-profits and leaders on board so that I could finalize it and get it out there. At the moment House Devil, Street Angel has three partners: CONNECT, a gender violence prevention organization, Voice Male Magazine, a pro-feminist men’s issue publication, and NYC Dads Group, a Meetup group for fathers in the region. I hope that groups with similar goals will join them, help spread the word about the project, and eventually use the finished film in classrooms and workshops. This film can help generate a really powerful conversation that we as men need to have about the intersections of culture, social forces like patriarchy, and personal choice when it comes to abuse. We have to figure out how to change. And that’s a process, not a one-size-fits-all scenario.

It’s been both fulfilling and exhausting to share this film. I screened the rough cut, when it was called Internal Exposure, to members of NYC Dads right after I graduated in order to get feedback. Only the organizers of the screening knew what the film was about. Most of the other dads in the audience had no idea what they were getting into. They just came knowing that a fellow dad wanted to show a work-in-progress. I introduced the film and sat back, and listened carefully for any sign of reaction as it played. They were utterly quiet, except for some laughs as Noam, at three-years-old, says, “I hate your camera” as he refuses to eat breakfast. Afterwards they were both eager to ask me questions about the film, and several men in the audience shared very touching stories about their experience as survivors, some with depression, and how they have had to worked to be better parents. I know my prejudice was challenged when one man, who looked like a bit of a jock, came up to me afterwards and really opened up. That was incredible.

People really get into the film and the characters. Which is pretty strange when I am a character in it, and then present for folks to ask me very personal questions. When I shared the film with the staff at CONNECT, they were supportive, but grilled me on it. That probably happened because the film can be triggering, even to an audience that is trained in these issues, and they wanted to know if I’m on point or not.

I had similar experiences with the Men’s Roundtable at CONNECT. And it was shown without me to a group called Hombres Dialogando (Men Dialoging), also a project of CONNECT. I was told by the group’s leader, Marlon Walker, that the film helped the men talk about how hard it is as a survivor to confront your abuser, especially when it’s a family member, and the painful feelings that happen when abusers do not admit what they did was abusive. Certainly older generations in our society do not have a conception of abuse as being beyond physical, so that adds to the process of reconciliation.

On another note, I am super excited that fellow filmmaker Sam Feder is going to work on House Devil, Street Angel in an Associate Producer or Co-producer. We’re still working on the details, but we just agreed to that this week. Sam Co-Directed Boy I Am and is now directing a documentary about Kate Bornstein called Make Me a Star.

You say in the trailer that changing our perceptions of masculinity is at the heart of the effort to prevent abuse. Can you elaborate on that?

It’s not so much changing the perception of masculinity, so much as changing and challenging the dominant form of masculinity itself– what some term “hegemonic masculinity.”

For most of my life, I was very unaware of my entitlement as a male. Just as white people are less aware of their “whiteness,” I was not conscious of my masculinity, even as it played a pivotal role in my existence. Further, as an anarchist I had this mind set that I was beyond or above all that. I’d thought about my class and race – but really didn’t consider that I could be sexist, patriarchal or abusive. Partially, that had to do with the fact that I’m an introvert at heart who has struggled since childhood with depression, self-hate and sustaining long-term friendships. In tandem, because my abuser was male I’ve had a very hard time reaching out to other men and trusting men. Those are both things that I think could have helped me be more accountable and change as a man. On top of that there’s the basic fact that as men we are not socialized to speak about these issues nor hold each other accountable. I know I’m still figuring it out. I think in the anarchist or activist community there could have been a better support network for accountability. I found a few people to connect with, who were knowledgeable about abuse, but I was utterly frightened about being castigated by the community and didn’t out myself. And there really wasn’t a men’s group or something similar to turn to.

That said, in the broader culture of the U.S., we are socialized to do the exact opposite – suck it up, be a “man” and drink a beer if you’re upset. Or maybe share your most intimate feelings with a female friend or partner. Just make sure you don’t try that with another guy. If an average man sought out other men to talk about their fucked up behavior, what do you think they’d say? They would probably excuse it.

That’s where changing masculinity comes in. Feminism is all about freedom for all of humanity, not just women – as readers of this blog well know. And building a feminist masculinity can be, and will be, liberatory for all genders. My film is a deeply inspired by the feminist tenet “the personal is political,” as it’s an intimate documentary with broader intentions. I would not have the chuzpah to make House Devil, Street Angel if it were not for personal filmmakers like Marlon Riggs, Doug Block, Jonathan Caouette, Lourdes Portillo and Alan Berliner and feminist / personal / activist filmmakers like Barbara Hammer, Michelle Citron and of course The Line Campaign’s own Nancy Schwartzman. My aunt’s work in the personal and political documentary world contributed to my trajectory as well.

The kickstarter campaign for the movie is just taking off. What can we do to help you?

The best way to help immediately would be to check out the Kickstarter campaign (http://kck.st/nhmFsO), contribute and / or share it with your friends, family and colleagues. I appreciate any kind of support folks can provide.

For the long run, please get in touch via the project’s website, join the mailing list, and look out for the final film. If you or someone you know runs a men’s group, feminist group or parent’s group for instance, on or off a college campus, please consider hosting a screening. And thanks!

You are welcome! Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us, and good luck with the project!

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