Speed Dating? No, Speed Activism
Two-Minutes to Spark Change
By Bruce Isaacson
The resident Cupid in a balaclava, welcomes speed daters to connect with their next co-conspirator at the Speed Activism event. Courtesy of Indecline.
Arriving downtown Friday night and the scene is buzzing. It’s early for this much activity, only around 6 p.m., but there’s a crowd gathered at the entrance to Recycled Propaganda, the resistance-oriented art gallery and bookstore downtown just south of Charleston. The crowd is young, and some alt happening is clearly underway. I had been to the gallery a few hours earlier to look at the art exhibit—a collection of poster graffiti, resistance media, and jokester art delivered by Indecline, a subterranean group of artists who turn the media back on itself for humorous and devastating political effect. The art show was funny and impressive, but tonight’s event had all the energy and the buzz. It’s billed as Speed Activism. It’s like Speed Dating, but instead of love, you meet a series of community organizations for a two-minute dive into what the community organization does, and whether you like them and want to get involved.
We’re all feeling so isolated and alienated from what goes on in the structures of economy and power around us. At least, I feel this way. The sense of iso-alien-ation pervades everything in the culture right now. An evening out among like-minded folks seems appealing, possibly even worthwhile and grounding. And these are people who are doing something to improve our modern mess of a world. I ask myself, is this sort of community activism effective? How can it concretely help the world around us? Does this sort of active engagement make a person feel happier? More useful? Fulfilled? These are the questions I was eager to discover the answers to. They gave me an appointment for 6:30 p.m. so here I am.
Before entering, the 6:30 participants gather as a young, confident dude, Ryan Remark, explains we’ll be in two-minute shifts, each shift with a rep from five activist organizations. In the first minute, the activist gets to explain their program—who they are, what they do, why, the meaning of it all. In the second one-minute shift— we have dialogue, questions, how-to. A bell rings. I’m off…
First Shift: Shine a Light. I sit down with Brent Nowak, a bearded man with a gentle smile, who serves as the engagement liaison for Shine a Light, —a nonprofit dedicated to supporting the hundreds of people living in the underground flood channels of Las Vegas. He talks slowly, looking down at the floor, then up at me. They have staff and volunteers venture into the depths to engage an underserved, hidden population of men, women and children on a dignified personal level. He explains how, every Friday night, they go though the underground flood channels and homeless encampments handing out basics—a bottle of water is the main thing. It’s hard to get more basic than this—just give people living on the street a fresh bottle of water. They also dole out simple food, a granola bar, for example, socks, flashlights and batteries. Basics.
Matthew O’ Brien, author of Beneath the Neon, which chronicles the lives of those living in Las Vegas’ underground storm drains, is pictured with tunnel resident Eric in 2012. Photo courtesy of Florian Buettner.
They want this to be the beginning of their relationship with someone living on the street. Depending on the case, they later can coordinate detox placement, temporary housing, and help the person(s) face barriers for job or permanent housing placement. They have case management professionals who follow progress and help overcome challenges in the various systems. And let's face it, we all know, in these times, if there’s a system—it has challenges that need to be overcome.
These are people that have failed to navigate in the established systems. Yet they’ve been successful at helping people rebuild their lives and get off the street. Too often we hear the narrative of how a self-concocted diet of drugs or alcohol that marooned these people on this moon. This turns out to be a judgement that lets the rest of society off the hook. Brent is a veteran and explains a good percentage of people living in the channels and the underpasses are veterans, veterans traumatized by experience. They deserve help and assistance. Another high percentage, he explains, are coping with severe mental illness. Bipolar, schizophrenia, depression. So, yes, many are self-medicating with drugs or alcohol, silencing the din of trauma, but answers aren’t easily contained in some sort of Calvinist ‘just-say-no’ willpower fantasy. That’s our cultural fantasy, not their reality.
And if we’re blaming drugs and alcohol for homelessness, what about the children? Because there is a population of children out here living on the street. Way too many. Brent explains that working with Shine a Light is his way of not leaving buddies behind. Then he reduces it back to the basics—a bottle of water, a granola bar, once-a-week. I feel like this group is made up of angels—stepping in to take on the work that society overlooks. Ring! Next…
Second Shift: #More Than a Hashtag: I sit down with the powerful Desiree Smith, the founder and executive director for #More Than a Hashtag. She has blonde finger waves and long beaded earrings that sway as she explains how their women-led organization is making a difference for Black and oppressed communities. She speaks quietly but intently. #More Than a Hashtag provides healers, therapists, community events and generally acts to keep their community safe without intervention of the state.
Desiree is careful, even circumspect, in what she says. There’s been a lot of concern expressed publicly about attempts at infiltration by the levers of power in this sort of event. My grandparents fell out of the West Virginia hills in the 1920s, and as my therapist, a 50-ish black man, once explained about my looks: I’m Karen. So she’s careful. A stroll through their website makes clear that #More Than a Hashtag is an effort to self-correct at a community level in order to keep police out of their communities. They want to solve their own issues peaceably.
This is both evidence and a solution to the distrust between black communities and police. To me, this seems useful—the police shouldn’t want extra beef, and the history of violence and incarceration experienced by black communities is epic. No matter what I aspire for this world, we each only judge by our own lived experience. And black communities are judging by their lived experience. I cannot forget joining a march by a local BLM chapter and how very confrontational and repressive the approach of Metro seemed to be. They didn’t see protesters exercising first amendment rights, Metro saw criminal trouble and the need to repress it. Imagine their approach to the mentally ill, to domestic fights in a tough part of town. In a way, one can’t be surprised by the police approach when America has about 440 million guns for 340 million people. They want to get home safe too. But that doesn’t help black communities when it’s a situation, when a person may be acting out from mental illness, despair, divorce, or even just looks crazy or impaired because they are diabetic with low blood sugar. Understanding is often what’s needed and not usually what the police are built for. In my opinion, police are built for the exercise of power, and if a community group can act to expand understanding, well, they’re preventing tragedy.
Guests at Recycled Propaganda examine a striking sculpture made from decommissioned guns—repurposed into a transformer figure that contrasts violence with creativity. Courtesy of Ethan Salmon.
#More Than a Hashtag also works on specific cases where they believe police action has been harmful and wrong. They publish lists of officer-involved shootings on their website. Presenting this information to the public can help keep police accountable and improve public safety. This becomes critically true in an era of federal rendition, excising judicial review, and clear political repression. #More Than a Hashtag is a model for the methods to watchdog police power at a time when it’s already moving broadly out of control. Their stated goal is the abolition of police. Not sure how realistic that may be, I only encountered them for two minutes. Still, their approach is not merely advocacy, it includes community action to reduce conflict, repression, and violence. You have to give them credit, they’re bold and committed to their community. Ring! Next…
Third Shift: The Fifth Sun Project: I sit down with Eztli Amaya, a soft-spoken woman with long black hair and delicate tattoos. She’s the co-founder of the Fifth Sun Project, who explains that most of the nonprofit’s services are focused on supporting the reservation. Las Vegas is Native land of the southern Paiute – Nuwuvi people. Again, she’s circumspect in what is said, since I’m still Karen. In addition, as a founder of the organization said in a recent Las Vegas Weekly profile, “I don’t think people realize that it becomes dangerous to be outspoken.” Indeed. I expect it to become more dangerous.
Eztli Amaya, co-founder of the Fifth Sun Project, and David at “Nipple Rock” near Thacker Pass (Peehee Mu’huh) in the northern NV/Southern Oregon caldera, where lithium mining threatens this sacred site of the northern Paiute/Western Shoshone (Numu/Newe). Fifth Sun was documenting the area with support from the People of Red Mountain.
Fifth Sun is active and outspoken on a variety of issues: women’s health, abortion rights, environmental injustice, immigrant rights, undocumented rights, Palestinian rights, even Indian Boarding Schools. The latter is one of North America’s most shameful histories too often repressed and silenced from memory. They are affiliated with the Stewart Indian School Cultural Center and Museum in Northern Nevada, a community of graduates and families from the school that educated Great Basin Tribes from 1890. Even our local leftist community finds it difficult to truly imagine what it’s like belonging to a group in America that has been conquered and assimilated. Thus, Fifth Sun sees common cause broadly with other communities subjected to mass-repression and annihilation.
Fifth Sun supports BIPOC (Black, Indigenous and people of color) communities in Las Vegas too. Their programs include a street vendor relief fund, self-defense classes, events on cultural resistance and awareness, live music and DJ events, undocumented writing workshops, and more. They are active and energetic in supporting their communities. I am convinced that America will continue to face repression born from its own history until it confronts and reconciles with that past. The current national debate is evidence. Yet I’m a long way from that real understanding or coping myself, and that’s true. In the meantime, Fifth Sun does real things to help their people. Then Ring! Next…
Fourth Shift: The Obodo Collective: I'm with Cheyenne Kyle, who rocks bold purple curls and cat-eye glasses. She’s the food programs coordinator for Obodo and explains that it’s a community charity that supports individuals and families experiencing the threat of homelessness and food insecurity. Obodo is an Igbo language word for “city” or “community” and this group strives to transform communities into vibrant, healthy and supportive places to live for generations to come. They help people at risk of losing their homes, noting that HHS data shows interceding to prevent homelessness is more cost-effective than addressing the issue after someone has already been evicted. Obodo takes action by attending court to mitigate eviction, helps community members navigate the Care Housing Assistance Program, and connects them with support services.
Obodo further provides necessary resources to families, such as childcare, behavioral and mental health services. Interestingly, their approach begins with an emphasis on listening. As we all know there’s too little listening around us everywhere.
Finally, Obodo’s signature project is an Urban Farm within the historic Westside neighborhood. It started as a community garden but grew into an urban farm of fresh produce, medicinal herbs, and native desert plants on a half-acre plot. They aim to tackle food insecurity, offset urban heat islands, and mitigate the loss of biodiversity. The urban farm is open to the public and people can come to harvest their own food and attend their many events. Ring! Next…
Fifth Shift: The Cupcake Girls: I’m sitting with Ash Miller, dressed in a pink tiger-print top, their hair a striking blend of lavender and icy blue hues. Ash serves as the Board Secretary for The Cupcake Girls and casually explains their community organization and how it provides confidential support to those in the sex industry as well as outreach, advocacy, and resources to those affected by sex trafficking. A lot of the ethos around The Cupcake Girls involves fighting the disparaging view of sex work which is all too common in society. The Cupcake Girls fight for the notion that consensual sex workers should be empowered to follow their own path and that they should be safe in doing so. It’s hard to disagree that they should be safe, but the simple truth is that hazards of rape, violence, and illness persist broadly. Sex workers are targets—then add criminalization of sex work to those dangers in most places.
A seat at the table with Ash Miller, board secretary for The Cupcake Girls. Courtesy of Indecline.
The Cupcake Girls offer community and personal support to those coping with these hazards via direct support groups, counseling, mentorship, advocacy, and referrals to community resources. These can address the various types of trauma that can be connected with sex work. My reading is that they are generally not oriented towards talking people away from sex work, instead, it’s more like a trade group. However, The Cupcake Girls are clear about recognizing the difference between consensual sex work and trafficking. They offer a variety of aftercare programs to help those affected by sex trafficking.
Looking at a recent report on their website, The Cupcake Girls seem to be one of the better funded community groups in Las Vegas. They raised some $1.3 million over the last year, providing resources to over 13,000 program participants. This is a record to be proud of. Further, maintaining pride and dignity in the face of all the bullshit society puts out about sex work is a key challenge for those involved in the industry. Clearly, The Cupcake Girls do a whole lot to meet that challenge at an individual, human level. Ring!
Wrap-Up: After the Speed Activism event, there were tables set up and staffed by members of each organization. I was pleased to hangout a while, talk to the good people there, and even walked away with a springy yellow and black Shine a Light wristband that I like a lot. It’s funny how small things can please and satisfy. Of course, it’s not really the wrist band, it’s the optimism of what it means to be among a group of people who are doing something to help in this world. I’m not sure how much it matters precisely what we do, or who we help. But to retain a measure of sanity and stability in the whirlwind of the current American kakocracy, with all the hair-on-fire media bombarding us, it’s important to be doing something in this world that helps. I work in an arts nonprofit devoted to literary pursuits. It’s great, but sometimes literary pursuits are solitary, and this was a great chance to be among people I like. Indecline has given us a simple way to reach out, one that could become a popular model to generate activism and ground people in other cities and times. Indecline should be commended and followed.
Possibly, as the current crisis deepens and calls us each in individual ways to more vigorous action, the sense of community among people who want the world to be better will become like a superpower. Yes, that’s what I mean. If you’ve reached out and are helping in the world in any of a thousand simple ways, you will have that superpower against greed, madness, lies, distortion, and confusion. You will have a sixth sense, self-knowledge, an extra-perceptual sort of ability—like animals have to see and move about in the dark—that will be valuable and necessary in order to navigate the darkness of the era. This is a personal reason to reach out and participate in volunteer organizations. It is only by engagement in the world that we begin to find our own beliefs at a level of depth and to feel our commitment to guiding values, to the people around us, to the world at large.
Here’s what I discovered from Speed Activism. Don’t ignore your superpower—find it, cultivate it, learn when and how to use it. Volunteer, help. Whether it’s taking direct action in your own segment of the community or passing out water bottles to people living on the street, do something. Do something that helps you know and feel the best of who you can be, why we’re here, how to help. Life is grim business without that. Learn to see in the dark. There may be a serious darkness coming. Learn to smile into it.
Bruce Isaacson is a poet and publisher of Zeitgeist Press. Books can be found at Zeitgeist-Press.com. He is also a founder of Poetry Promise, a 501(c)3 charity to increase the knowledge and practice of the literary arts.
