A Collective for Better Collectives

Quite a few months ago, ACBC ran a “Collectives & Informal Hierarchies” workshop. I took photos of some of the notes/thoughts people wrote on our flipchart paper on the wall, and in the spirit of “better late than never”, have finally shared the photos below. (Click for bigger versions.) A lot of interesting stuff to think about!

– Juliet

I didn’t mean it personally.

You don’t say.

You didn’t mean it personally?
Well then, exactly how did you mean it?

Impersonal
as a sudden knife against a throat?
Mind you, I am speaking of any throat: black, white, brown,
young, old, female, male.
A personal throat.

Impersonal as
the food
you have to eat / you must not eat,
it’s just TVm
they’re not talking to you you know.
You always take verything
so personally.

Impersonal as pain
eating another’s belly
another’s immune system
another’s child?

Impersonal as chemicals
made so much more pesronal
when the right colour,
a familiar surname is involved.

Impersonal as an unfamiliar shape
on a computerised map
hard to pronounce
impossible to see
or touch.
Impersonal as their war
until our boys
are threatened, missing, kidnapped, murdered.

Might you be talking about the personal monogram,
careful initials machine-stitched just for you
on the home-ec hankie, the polo shirt, or satin travel case
in which you can go anywhere
with that very personal diamond?

Can you guess where the stone
cut from South African rock
by South African shoulders, South African lungs,
stopped being hometown earth, became
your personal status symbol, beneath that monogram
or on your personal wrist?

And what about the wrist, personal when slapped, when held,
when touched:
when, by whom, under what concrete conditions?
What about your belly, your womb, your choice
personal or otherwise?
What about your space, sex, trust, language,
meaning of those rules?

You should be ashamed!
Oh, I didn’t mean …
If you really loved him ….
But I only meant …
It’s not a matter of black and white …
I meant …
They’re just workers!
I didn’t mean …
They’re just, you know,
it doesn’t hurt them as much
to give up
their children,
their land,
their lives …

Well I meant … I mean, I didn’t mean …
Well, you do know what I meant.
Don’t you?

I know.
You didn’t mean it personally.

I was afraid you did.