A few months ago Armani started an incredibly deep thread over on Twitter asking this question- the sheer number of responses, somewhere over 30K, were intense to see and go through. That prompted me to do the same over on my IG 3-4 months and I received well over 200 answers within 12 hours. Since then I have been wrestling with the idea of what to do with them. For a while I was working on making a number of short films but quickly realized that I am no film maker, far from it actually.
I finally made a decision though and what I am doing now is this: I am going to produce a zine over the next two weeks with those answers, that will include a number of visuals from friends and myself. I will also be asking that same question here as well as IG this coming week for those that find it easier to answer on that platform. The published answers will all be anonymous and will be accompanied by some from friends whose artwork will also be presented in the zine. There is going to be a comment button at the bottom of this email, if you would like to participate in this zine, please feel free to include your answer there.
To kick start this project I am going to share my story, or rather, stories. There’s no real need to define the question as I would like to be as open and wide as the previous answers have been.
As mentioned, in order to give you a clearer picture this is a two-part story. I was raised in a mixed-religious, multi-national, military family during the cold war. My father is an English, officially Church of England, military person and my mother is a German, (was) strict Roman Catholic orphan. My father had no interest in religion and it wasn’t part of his world, yet, for my mother it was. Contextually, we grew up in the north of Germany, which, traditionally is Protestant, on good days, but pretty a-religious generally speaking. My mother is originally from Bavaria and that part of the world is as Roman Catholic as the Vatican can hope for, especially in the countryside, again, where my mother was from. For whatever reason, my upbringing, aside, from the multi-cultural, hugely paranoid, military vibes mixed with late 70s stoner / early 80s yuppie vibes- was massively shaped by Catholicism. That led to my first radicalization. By the time I had my confirmation at age 11, metal, anti-authoritarianism and left-wing street politics had manifested itself deeply thanks to puberty. The non-compliant, strictly patriarchal, Catholic schooling had lost all its wonders and ability to satisfy my curiosity. Shortly after my Confirmation I had mustered enough courage to ask my priest a challenging question , I don’t really remember what it was, I do, however, vividly remember the answer: A good Catholic doesn’t question, but follows. The subsequent challenge resulted in an open handed slap across my face which did nothing but open the doors to a never ending study and practice of Atheism.
The second part of this story isn’t really that exciting personally, yet here it goes. I moved to St. Pauli, Hamburg when I was 6 after having lived on a British / Nato base just south of town. We lived in a small, social benefit flat that luckily / unluckily- depending if you ask my parents, was a few minutes walk from the now infamous Hafenstrasse. Below is a 20 minute video from 86-87 that gives you a small glimpse into the neighbhorhood that I grew up in:
It is here, as a youth and then later as a teenager that I was first exposed to squatting, anarchism, both in theory and praxis as well as dangerous ideas such as equality, anti-capitalism and the subsequent, logical political and social theories. I left here when I was 13-14 but rest assured, the wonderful people and the so-called “alternative’ playground of mine left a lasting mark that I am sure some of you can still see today.
With that, now it is up to you. I am going to periodically start these newsletters of the next month with answers from friends and once the zine is ready, let’s call it mid-November- I’ll make it available to download and buy. What Radicalized You?
I grew up in a Jersey suburb just outside of NYC. Although we could see NYC, our town couldn’t have been more different. Almost entirely made up of white, working class, Republican and Catholic. I am from both a white and working class family. I grew up in a post hippie liberal household with an atheist father and non-Christian spiritual mother.
Our street was around the block from one of the largest cultureLESS centers in America, the Garden State Plaza Mall. About a stone throws away from our street was an exit ramp from a very busy interstate highway and another stone throw would get you into the next town. At a very young age I recognized our police department pulling over people of color right onto our street at an extremely high rate right for a town that historically has very little people of color in it.
When I was about 11 years old my older brothers started taking me to punk rock shows. Although they were into the pop-punk scene of lookout records, I instantly gravitated towards anything nyhc, bad brains, dc hardcore, boysetsfire and Fifteen. This mixed with the discovery of Public Enemy, the Fugees and Tupac, I was able to comprehend what I had grown up observing.
I’ve been pushing back against authority ever since.
I grew up in a pit village, I was 11 during the UK miners strike in 84 and used to see all the men going down to the picket lines and the scab bus going through the village picking those up who went back to work.
Relatives explained to me why they were striking, why trade unions were important, why solidarity mattered and most importantly about the class system and specifically how it’s used to keep the working class down.
A few years later the music of Billy Bragg and Public Enemy opened doors to other avenues of struggle and oppression.