“I encourage you to retrace the threads of your sacred relationship to the earth. They are deeply encoded within you. Find a place you love enough to defend, and then commit to it completely. Protect all the natural beings who share that space. Live there with grace, respect, and gratitude for the privilege of having found a true home. You needn’t own the place, just love it. Create simple ceremony there. Invite the seven directions to join you there. This is how to create a sacred site.”—Gail Faith Edwards
“A lot of the indigenous people with whom I’ve worked have said to me that the first and most important thing any of us needs to do is decolonize our hearts and minds. Decolonization is the process of breaking your identity with and loyalty to this culture—industrial capitalism specifically, and more broadly civilization—and remembering your identification with and loyalty to the real physical world, including the land where you live. It means re-examining premises and stories this culture handed down to you. It means seeing the harm this culture does to other cultures, and to the planet. It means recognizing that we are living on stolen land. It means recognizing that the luxuries of this way of life do not come free, but rather are paid for by other humans, by nonhumans, by the whole world. It means recognizing that we do not live in a functioning democracy, but rather in a corporate plutocracy, a government by, for, and of corporations. Decolonization means recognizing that neither technological progress nor increased GNP is good for the planet. It means recognizing that this culture is not good for the planet. Decolonization means internalizing the implications of the fact that this culture is killing the planet. It means determining that we will stop this culture from doing that. It means determining that we will not fail.”—Derrick Jensen in “50 Simple Ways to Get Off”
Not all women in the 1920s were flappers. This California-based Chicana gunslinger in pants, button down shirt, and tie is Maria Alatorre (ca. 1925). I love photos like this because they’re visual evidence of the wide range of femininities that have always existed.
“Yes, Marcos is gay. Marcos is gay in San Francisco, black in South Africa, an Asian in Europe, a Chicano in San Ysidro, an anarchist in Spain, a Palestinian in Israel, a Mayan Indian in the streets of San Cristobal, a Jew in Germany, a Gypsy in Poland, a Mohawk in Quebec, a pacifist in Bosnia, a single woman on the Metro at 10pm, a peasant without land, a gang member in the slums, an unemployed worker, an unhappy student and, of course, a Zapatista in the mountains. Marcos is all the exploited, marginalised, oppressed minorities resisting and saying `Enough’. He is every minority who is now beginning to speak and every majority that must shut up and listen. He is every untolerated group searching for a way to speak. Everything that makes power and the good consciences of those in power uncomfortable — this is Marcos.”—
Marcos is almost more than a person. Marcos is a character, a symbol, in a way I think is unique to Mexican culture. Usually I’d have a problem with statement like this, but being that woman on the metro, that Chicanita in Eugene, that unhappy student, this rings true.