This post is about two seemingly unrelated situations separated by both time and distance. The first situation is local, Alice Springs to be specific, and emerges from a men's family violence program I helped establish in Alice Springs some five years ago and some of the things I have learned over this time. The other concerns an American steel worker called Mike who was interviewed in one of Studs Terkel's oral histories, "Working…" published in 1974. Originally reviewed by Marshall Berman in the same year, I first came across it in Berman's Adventures in Marxism that came out in 1999. For reasons best known to the book gods I reread Berman's book earlier this year and the connection between Mike and Alice jumped out at me. I will pick this up below but first let me introduce Mike the steel worker.
"Here is "Mike Lefevre" … a 37 year old steelworker. First he abuses intellectuals, complains that they denigrate workers. A moment later, however, he stereotypically denigrates himself: "A mule, an old mule, that's the way I feel." He is hurt and angry that his teenage son "lacks respect." And yet "I want my kid to be an effete snob. …I want him to tell me that he's not gonna be like me." He talks about the anger and violence inside him: he goes to a bar, insults someone randomly, starts a brawl. "He's punching me and I'm punching him, because we really both want to punch somebody else." But who? Forty years ago in Clifford Odets' play Waiting for Lefty, a worker punched out his boss, and the audience stood up and cheered. But Terkel's worker has the brains to see how things have changed: the structure of work is far more abstract and depersonalised today, and cathartic moments don't come easy. "Who you gonna sock? [asks Mike] You can't sock General Motors, you can't sock anyone in Washington. You can't sock a system.""
What sets Mike apart from many is that he knows, as he's punching somebody out, that he really wants to direct his fire elsewhere, but feels trapped. He has a sense of what the target might be, but as a solo steelworker, can't fix the target in his sights, can't get close enough to 'sock it'. He has insight, but is hamstrung by despair and self loathing, compounded, it would seem, by isolation. Hope is there too – he reads, looking for answers and direction, but so far these have eluded him.
We don't know what happened to Mike, whether he was able to shake off his despair and self hatred, find kindred spirits and together work out ways of socking systems rather than each other, but Mike, and so many like him, has soul mates in places like Alice and across the Top End.
Up here where hopelessness, self loathing and despair could be stamped on nearly everyone's birth certificate, people quickly come to 'get', on some instinctive level at least, that you can't 'sock the system', be that the white fella system or the broken aspects of the traditional tribal system, where humbugging, jealousing and payback are spinning out of control, but where you can sure as hell sock one another. And they do, especially the men who target women, usually their wives partners or girlfriends, as well as one another. And when that doesn't solve anything they take it out on themselves. The family violence rate, often alcohol fueled, the jail numbers, the hospital admissions associated with violent assault and self harm, the suicide rate and the churning out of corrugated road kids who so quickly grow into corrugated road adults … all this and more screams of the pain and rage that springs from despair, the self loathing that often accompanies this and of feeling trapped. Just like Mike.
"Two way learning"
This phrase was used by a close colleague and camp resident whose activism was involved in two of the examples I give below. It describes a means of broadening one's scope in seeking solutions, of learning from and supporting one another and is in direct contrast to the narrowing and, dare I say it, 'exclusivizing' pull of identity politics.
So what do we learn from Mike and how can this learning be used to help people stop abusing one another, especially their family members, and instead to find targets, political, institutional or community ones that are, or have become, part of the problem and not part of the solution? The first thing is to acknowledge that there are sufficient parallels that exist between Mike, his equivalents elsewhere in the world and indigenous populations in Alice and up the top end for similarities to be sought and lessons to be drawn, be these lessons positive ones or negative ones. Without this we turn our backs on one another or look upon one another as curiosities. And Mike gives us both positive and negative. He knows himself that he is hitting the wrong target and hates himself for doing it, for repeatedly getting sucked in. That's why he drinks himself to sleep, to escape.
Knowing this however, knowing you're hitting the wrong target, is not a bad place to start. But as Mike would be the first to admit, it's also not a good place to stay. So how do people get unstuck and find a way forward? They can take another lesson from Mike, a positive one, and look for solutions. Mike's not just unhappy with himself, he's unhappy with the situation; it's why he wants his son to be better than him and good on him for that; it's why he reads, it's why he wants to connect somehow with the outside world and to look for ways that will help him find some direction and purpose, to get out from under.
What Mike had not yet learnt (and I hope that he ended up learning this) is that you can, in fact, take on a system but you can't do it on your own. You need to find friends, people in similar situations who are also pissed off and frustrated, and you need to take this to a higher level (to synthesize it) and figure out which targets are real, accessible and 'sockable'. This doesn't happen by magic and it doesn't come from a bottle; it needs determination, organisation, mutual support and a willingness to learn from one's mistakes. And if you need to stick your hand up, looking for that support, you do that too.
Invariably this process starts small. Remember the song "From little things big things grow"? It's telling us something important. Remember Mike's frustration "you can't sock Washington"? Wherever Mike was in the States he was nowhere near Washington, nowhere near the government or the bureaucrats he felt screwed by and he was flying solo. Starting too big can be overwhelming and self defeating. More than enough to hate yourself and seek escape in grog.
So what does starting small mean? Let me place this within an Territorian context and give some examples. The first is well-known – the struggle for land rights at Wave Hill – the other two, like so many significant struggles engaged in by those who are notionally powerless, virtually unknown and flying under the radar.