Image by Myles Wilson
My actions are not definitive. My existence is fluid. When you think you can look at my life in pieces, reductions, fragments-single moments of action—you forget that I, like you, am a system and despite aging I do not exist in a sequential pattern based on my past, or future. There are times when I am moving because of my past, and there are also times when my currentness would not dictate the movement of my future.
My actions are not defining. Though they are distinctive, I recognize the guilt of my colonial, familial lines, and I am trying to figure out how to work out creating a decolonized future. I recognize too the beautiful moments I come from; love stories, adventures, passion. How do we work towards dreams?
My actions are not a definition. For those of you who look at my participation in the black bloc, writing it off as damaging to more positive change, as childish and a waste of resources, you forget that you never asked me why. Or what my dreams are. Or of my participation in so-called ‘more positive change’.
My movement is a dance, a spectrum, not a delusion, not an internal political ‘definition’ of what it is or is not ‘effective’—do we really know? We are here, now, coming from a past of things that led us here. We are here, now, experimenting with the everyday; we have no answers because we are the futures.
My movement is not to be dictated or instilled ‘righteously’. My movement is to create spaces that live and work and dream how I and you and others choose. My movement is to defend the earth and work to lessen the impact of my past, of the machines that insist on defining the future. My movement is to lift off the cement and make room for roots to grow again, to grow roots that I can feel. My movement is to sway in the wind, to recognize my fluidity to dance, to weave roots that roll with the shapes of the earth that crumble and ebb and flow. My definitions are a movement of the past, present, future and dreams. To reduce it is to rip up the earth.