LIVING IN MINNEAPOLIS-SAINT PAUL, I LISTEN TO THE STORIES OF OTHER ABOLITIONISTS
TO LEARN HOW THEY CAME TO THIS RADICAL APPROACH
~ Camille Tinnin ~
We are living in a time of increased authoritarianism around the globe, propped
up by police and other forms of law enforcement.
In the United States we see the deployment of Immigration and Customs
Enforcement (ICE), the National Guard, with police cooperation on various
levels. Masked agents, refusing to provide names or identification, appear in
workplaces, homes, roads, and businesses, snatching up neighbours. Fear abounds,
as does resistance. As we fight this new onslaught and rollback of personal
civil liberties, it is important to not only focus on what we are fighting
against, but what we are fighting for. Police abolitionist organisers provide
wisdom for this moment.
Abolitionists are not only fighting against the police state, we are building
alternative practices and institutions that push against assumptions about
conflict, power, and interpersonal and community relationships. We are
questioning our collective conception of power, considering accountability for
harm over discipline and punishment, developing skills to better resolve
conflicts in our neighbourhoods, families, organising spaces, and society. We
are engaging in mutual aid and the creation of community spaces. We are building
skills that generations of capitalist individualism have attempted to train out
of us.
Living in Minneapolis-Saint Paul (Twin Cities), Minnesota, I listen to the
stories of other abolitionists to learn how they came to this radical approach,
and about what people are doing to model and build the world we want to see. The
Twin Cities have an array of organisations working toward abolition (and related
movements) creatively.
I see three main ways that abolitionists are engaging which go beyond
obstructing injustice to creating prefigurative alternatives. The modelling of
imagined future in the now, while fighting against present oppression. These
works of what Sarah Lamble calls “everyday abolition” include:
1. the development of conflict skills and education around conflict
transformation,
2. mutual aid, and
3. claimed and created spaces.
CONFLICT SKILLS
During my interviews, many abolitionists mentioned how we, as a society, need to
build conflict skills. Collectively, we often outsource responsibility for
managing conflict to the State, rather than addressing it ourselves. One way
this occurs is through calling the police (or State institutions that do similar
work). Abolitionists avoid doing so. One said, “if I have a problem with my
neighbour and can talk to my neighbour about it, or if I can talk to another
person who knows my neighbour, and get that solved, why would I ever have to go
over here [to the police]?”
Abolitionists talked about how, to not rely on the police, people need to be
willing to step in and help neighbours-in-crisis, or diffuse disagreements. To
respond, people need to have the skills to do so. By conflict skills, I mean
approaches or tools to use in conflict that equip parties to respond to acute or
ongoing situations with de-escalation, communication of disagreement, and
collective problem solving. This can include listening skills, conflict mapping,
understanding underlying needs and feelings, nonviolent communication, and
collective problem-solving skills.
These skills are relevant beyond avoiding the police. Abolitionists focus on the
need to holistically respond to conflict, including in movement spaces. Conflict
is neither good nor bad. Rather, it is something that can be positively or
negatively engaged with, arising from disagreements, communication challenges,
opposing interests, and so on. It can be interpersonal, or exist within a
broader group. We must use conflict, and its transformation, as a way to
identify harm, take accountability, repair relationships, grapple with
complexity and differences of opinion or strategy, and ultimately determine how
we can work together toward transformation. Often, people can be quick to sever
ties during conflict. adrienne maree brown, in their book We Will Not Cancel Us,
discusses how the disposability projected onto others uses similar carceral
logic to the systems we are working to dismantle.
Of course, when harm has occurred, people must be willing to acknowledge it and
take accountability, and the safety needs for individuals and groups must be
considered when navigating repair and transformative justice work.
Abolitionists also discussed examples of groups helping people develop these
skills, and the importance of education and training. REP, in South Minneapolis,
is a local organisation with a crisis hotline that operates several nights a
week, and offers ‘studios’ to build conflict skills and knowledge around
abolitionist principles. REP’s studios have included ‘consent and abolition’,
‘self-de-escalation and regulation’, ‘community trauma and care’, and ‘solving
problems ourselves’. One abolitionist involved in the project said: “We’re
striving towards a deep cultural shift in how people assess a crisis and address
the crisis, instead of having that knee-jerk response to call someone else.”
This is key to the work of unlearning our existing social structures and
learning how to face accountability without isolating ourselves, or choosing
self-pity or self-flagellation rather than action and repair.
There are other community education projects, reading circles, and so on, around
the Twin Cities offering different ways for people to learn together. People are
creating participatory education programs, sometimes in a certain career or
sector, sometimes in certain identity groups, and often for people looking to
develop certain skills.
MUTUAL AID
Several abolitionists interviewed mentioned how they engage in mutual aid work,
particularly supporting unhoused neighbours, because many of the biggest
challenges our communities face are connected to lack of resources. Mutual aid
is when people work together to meet basic human needs because they recognise
the capitalist system is not designed to do so. Multiple people discussed
working with programs that support our unhoused neighbours. One said of unhoused
encampment sweeps, which often result in people losing everything they have,
that a lot of our ‘public safety’ interventions are more about preventing people
from seeing the realities of capitalism than safety. Community members organise
free distributions of clothing and food through Little Free Pantries in people’s
front yards, the People’s Closet in George Floyd Square, neighbourhood-based
“Buy Nothing” groups on Facebook, and cooked-meal distributions.
Abolitionists discussed how people come together to meet collective and
individual needs, often stepping in to fill gaps that could be filled by
reallocation of government funds. George Floyd Square, the memorial and
community space located in the intersection where he was murdered by the police,
was a mutual aid hub during the 2020 uprisings, and continues to be where free
clothing, books, and other supplies are distributed.
An abolitionist explained: “In press conferences, [Governor] Tim Walz, Mayor
Frey, [city council member] Andrea Jenkins and the crew, were all saying, ‘oh,
that’s the best part of Minneapolis.’ You see it. You see it. You see the people
coming together. You see the people forming groups to protect each other and
their neighbourhoods. That’s the best Minneapolis, to which I respond, if that’s
the best of Minneapolis, why aren’t you doing it?”
While city officials continue to destroy encampments, state officials cut public
health insurance for undocumented immigrants, and federal officials cut food,
housing, and health programs, the needs of our communities will continue to
grow. Mutual aid will become even more important.
SPACE/ TAKING UP SPACE/ INTENTIONAL SPACES
Abolitionists discussed the importance of taking up space and having intentional
spaces. John Gaventa, in his piece Finding Spaces For Change: A Power Analysis,
calls these spaces “claimed by less powerful actors from or against the power
holders, or created more autonomously by them.” One such space is George Floyd
Square, which one abolitionist described as “community-built systems of
networking and safety doing a lot more to provide feelings of safety than
policing does.” Others discussed student anti-war encampments pushing for their
demands to be heard through getting in the way of business-as-usual, and
providing space to try out alternatives.
Abolitionists discussed the need for community spaces that foster imagination,
like ‘third spaces’, where people can gather, without needing to spend money, to
exchange ideas, host events, and build community. Several interview participants
are working on creating such spaces.
In this period of amplifying and expanding inhumanity by the State, people are
working locally to meet our collective needs. We have the opportunity, amidst
the intentional chaos created by those with formal power, to build ways-of-being
in community that model a future worth fighting for. The abolition movement in
the Twin Cities provides just one example of the prefigurative work happening
around the globe. We may not live to see the future we prefigure, but as links
in a chain, we continue this work, as Mariane Kaba says “until we free us.”
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This article was first published in the Winter 2025-6 issue of Freedom anarchist
journal
The post Everyday abolition in the Twin Cities appeared first on Freedom News.
Tag - abolition
EDITORIAL FROM OUR NEW JOURNAL ISSUE ON SURVEILLANCE EXPLORING STATES’ AMBITIONS
TO CONSTRAIN AND REFUSE OUR FREEDOM – AND WAYS TO FIGHT BACK
Anarchism in its essence is a lived philosophy of freedom. It is also a
recognition that freedom, as Mikhail Bakunin knew, depends on equality. Only
when we are equal can we be truly free from domination; free not just in mind
but in body, to realise all the possibilities of life in a society forged
through mutual aid and solidarity.
But in a capitalist society guaranteed by the power of the state, we anarchists
are engaged in an everyday war to preserve, protect, and expand freedom. If, as
Freedom’s own Colin Ward claimed, anarchism remains a seed beneath the snow,
ready to blossom if the conditions are right, then the fight to secure those
conditions has seldom been more desperate.
In this issue, we explore the challenges and possibilities of anarchist freedom
in a time when supposedly ‘democratic’ states – aided and abetted by digital
firepower – are seeking to constrain and refuse freedom in ways that would make
some authoritarian regimes blush.
In Ukraine, war itself is the testing ground for the technologies that seek to
reduce freedom to a memory, with AI targeting systems demonstrating in the
sharpest relief the power concentrated in the hands of right-wing tech barons
such as Peter Thiel. These technologies fuel killing on the battlefield and the
analysis of health data here in the UK, with the desperate Labour government
also betting big on the magic beans of AI to somehow deliver ‘growth’, at any
cost.
How to fight in a situation where the implications of totalitarian technologies
are – to paraphrase one of our writers in this issue – simply ignored with a
shrug is a critical question for we anarchists. A return to more traditional
forms of communication and the resurrection of zines and hardcopy media
represents a partial way out, but it requires us to fundamentally reorient our
audience – addicted as they are to the instant hits of easily-surveilled social
media platforms.
Also in the UK, the ongoing Spycops inquiry – in which Freedom is a core
participant – is a constant reminder that the state’s ambitions to constrain and
refuse freedom are in its very nature. The state’s aims today are unchanged from
the era in which police officers lied to women and fathered children with them;
indeed as our author notes, what is being investigated by the inquiry has
actually been made legal for future state agents.
But there remains cause for hope. From the Twin Cities in Minnesota where
abolitionist initiatives are contesting the authority of the Trump regime, to
Greece where anarchist groups are mobilising actively around the cause of
prisoners arrested for protest, battles are being won.
The German police’s lack of appetite for scrutiny comes up too, but while the
police may not be comfortable with being watched, the security apparatus is
perfectly delighted to watch us. So much so that we at Freedom recently learned
that two separate US Department of Homeland Security accounts were subscribed to
our newsletter.
Meanwhile, despite civil liberties being up for grabs on a daily basis in the
form of a Labour government who thinks an eternal right-wing drift is the cheat
code for success, the popular response to the government’s heavy-handed attacks
on those protesting genocide implies very strongly that Reform voters are not,
nor should they be, the centre of gravity for UK politics.
The veteran Spanish anarchist Jose Peirats once said ‘the state is a virus, it
can exist in all of us’. The key question in the coming weeks and months will be
how can an anarchist immune system effectively fight it? Some of the ideas are
in these pages. The rest are in our communities.
Together we have everything we need.
The post Freedom winter 2025-6: Watched, databased, yet to be controlled
appeared first on Freedom News.
THE FAMILY IS MARKETED AS A SAFE SPACE, A PLACE OF LOVE AND MUTUAL CARE, BUT
THIS IS NOT SUPPORTED BY THE DATA—HOW DO WE BRING OUR EXPERIENCES OF MUTUAL
SUPPORT NETWORKS TO THE CENTRE OF SOCIETY?
~ Alana Queer, El Salto ~
Something is wrong. We already struggle to imagine the end of capitalism, but
abolishing the family? Feminism seems to have long since abandoned this old
feminist demand, and this year the LGBTQIA+ movement in Spain will celebrate
twenty years of equal marriage, that is, its inclusion in this patriarchal
institution of marriage and family that marks a new “homonormativity,” which is
primarily a copy of heteronormativity. We’re in trouble. We lack imagination, we
lack visions of other forms of coexistence and parenting.
I write this article from my perspective as a family survivor. A survivor of
sexual abuse, psychological and emotional abuse and neglect, abuse that has left
me with complex trauma that I am still learning to live with. To live, not just
survive, as I have done for decades of my life. Writing from a survivor’s
perspective, in a way, is writing from the perspective of a child, providing a
counterpoint to the debate dominated by adult-centric perspectives.
When I think of family, the first words that come to mind are violence, (sexual)
abuse, abandonment, mistreatment, emotional blackmail… Not for a millisecond of
my life have I considered starting a family.
While I strongly agree with the diagnosis of the family’s role in the economic
and political order, as put forward, for example, by Nuria Alabao in this
article or Sophie Lewis in her book Abolish the Family, in a way, this diagnosis
is unnecessary. I only have to think about my own experience, look at my
surroundings, my friends, and what I see is violence, mistreatment, abuse,
emotional neglect, and all the resulting traumas. Is it possible that so many of
us have simply been unlucky? Perhaps there is a more structural problem, that
it’s not something failing in some (many) individual families, but the family
system itself that is at fault?
THE FAMILY, A SYSTEM OF MISTREATMENT AND ABUSE
The family is marketed as a safe space, a place of love and mutual care. Above
all, it is said that the family is the best place for children. This could not
be further from the truth. According to a meta-analysis of physical violence
experienced or witnessed in the family at the global level, in Europe 12.7% of
children have been victims of physical violence in their family, with a higher
rate for boys compared to girls (girls are not included in the analysis), and
10.5% have witnessed physical violence in their family. Another global
meta-analysis of more types of abuse and neglect reaches even higher results:
14.3% of girls and 6.2% of boys had suffered sexual abuse, 27% of boys and 12%
of girls had suffered physical abuse, 6.2% of boys and 12.9% of girls had
suffered emotional abuse, and 14.8% of boys and 13.9% of girls had suffered
neglect during their childhood. Overall, boys suffer more physical abuse and
neglect, and girls more emotional and sexual abuse. Fathers perpetrate more
physical and sexual abuse, while mothers perpetrate more emotional abuse and
neglect.
A study in the United Kingdom concluded that 41.7% of children were exposed to
some form of child abuse—physical, sexual, or emotional abuse, or physical or
emotional neglect. Some 19.3% witnessed domestic violence between their parents
or care-givers within the family. The famous ACE Study (Adverse Childhood
Experiences Study) of 1998 in the United States reached prevalence rates of
11.1% for psychological abuse, 10.8% for physical abuse, 22% for sexual abuse,
and 12.5% for exposure to domestic violence against the mother. Children often
suffer more than one form of abuse at a time.
In Spain, an estimated 18.9% of the population has been a victim of sexual abuse
in childhood (15.2% of men and 22.5% of women), more than half of whom were
perpetrated by a family member. According to a report by Save the Children, more
than 25% of children in Spain have been victims of abuse by their parents or
care-givers.
Despite considerable variation across studies, all of them show the family as a
site—the primary site—of abuse, mistreatment, and neglect. Studies that
differentiate by sexual orientation, such as one from the United States,
generally find much higher prevalence rates of abuse and mistreatment across all
categories for LGBTQIA+ people compared to heterosexuals. And children who
exhibit behaviours that do not conform to their assigned sex at birth suffer
even more abuse of all kinds.
Beyond abuse, 40% of children never develop a secure attachment to one of their
care-givers. According to research by the Sutton Trust in the United Kingdom,
“Many children lack secure attachment relationships. Around 1 in 4 children
avoid their parents when they are upset because they ignore their needs. Another
15% resist their parents because they cause distress.” According to the same
research, insecure parental attachment is the most important risk factor; that
is, insecure attachment is reproduced from generation to generation if parents
with insecure attachment do not work on their own attachment styles and traumas.
> To these figures of child abuse and neglect, we can add the high prevalence of
> intimate partner violence, gender violence, and domestic violence. Witnessing
> this violence also has negative consequences for children.
Is the family a safe place of love and care? The numbers debunk this myth. We
can say that for children, the least safe and most dangerous place is their
family home. With these figures—a prevalence of abuse between 15% and 40%—how
can we think that something is wrong at the individual level, that the problem
isn’t the structure (the family), but a lack of education, resources, etc.?
I invite you to a thought experiment. Let’s imagine a society wants to choose
between several models of coexistence and parenting: tribal or community
parenting, other models I have no idea what they might be, and family parenting.
Predictions of child abuse are estimated for each model. Can we imagine that a
model with a 25% prediction of abuse would be chosen? I doubt it.
CHILD ABUSE: LIFELONG DAMAGE
Child abuse leaves lifelong damage, I know this from my own experience. For
example, complex trauma refers to early negative experiences involving neglect
and/or abuse that occur within an attachment relationship with the primary
care-giver. This means that the figure who is supposed to provide affection,
love, and protection to the child is, at the same time, a source of anxiety,
threat, neglect, and/or abuse, resulting in distressing experiences such as
verbal abuse, abandonment, bullying, emotional invalidation, abandonment, and so
on.
Because of their ongoing nature, such abuse generates a stress response that
leaves a mark on the brain. Furthermore, these situations go unnoticed
externally and are cumulative. In many ways, complex trauma is related to
“non-events,” things that didn’t happen when they should have—a look, a smile,
being considered, or a comforting hug. These non-events have a significant
impact, although they don’t remain as memories beyond emotional sensations.
I know all this very well. It’s estimated that up to 7.7% of adults suffer from
complex post-traumatic stress disorder (c-PTSD or complex PTSD) and up to 20%
suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder. To me, these numbers seem too low.
However, it’s important to keep in mind that this isn’t a simple binary—either
you have PTSD or complex PTSD according to strict diagnostic criteria, or you’re
fine. Problems with emotional regulation, forming close relationships,
behaviour, trust, and a negative self-image can all be present and can cause
considerable problems without meeting all the diagnostic criteria for PTSD or
complex PTSD.
Complex trauma, often also called complex developmental trauma or developmental
trauma, is in the vast majority of cases the result of prolonged emotional abuse
and neglect in childhood and adolescence. Here we see many of the 15% of
children who avoid their parents because they cause distress: survivors of
sexual abuse and other forms of prolonged maltreatment.
There are also other consequences for mental and physical health: eating
disorders, depression, other mental disorders, substance use and abuse, and much
more. From the ACE study in the United States, we know that adverse childhood
experiences have a profound impact on many areas of adult health.
TOWARDS OTHER MODELS
So, we abolish the family. Okay! But what do we put in its place? Sophie Lewis
says: “Nothing.” Perhaps an overly simplistic answer.
It’s true that in the current system, the family fulfils functions for which the
best answer is “nothing”. As Nuria Alabao says, “The family is not a neutral
institution: it is still sustained by hierarchical relations of subordination
based on gender, age, and race/migration origin. […] As an institution, the
family has a central economic function; it has always been essential to the
reproduction of classes in capitalism, to allocate inheritances, transmit
property, or guarantee the payment of debts”. These are the functions we don’t
want to replace. Enough with Sophie Lewis’s “nothing.” We don’t need a gender
police force, we don’t need an institution that reproduces patriarchy and
prepares children to function well under capitalism.
However, there are other functions of the family in the current system, such as
parenting and caregiving, which the family performs quite poorly, as I’ve shown
above, but which are nonetheless necessary. We need other models of living
together, of relating, of parenting, and of organising caregiving.
Today, mainstream feminism has nothing more to offer than promoting
“co-responsibility” in parenting, that is, equal participation of fathers in
childrearing. Where are the more radical visions?
> I don’t mean that children need their mother, father or biological parent, but
> they do need adults who allow them a safe and stable attachment.
According to Nuria Alabao, “In 19th-century socialism linked to the labour
movement, and later in the 1970s, class-based feminism called for the
socialisation of social reproduction: soup kitchens, 24-hour day-care, or
innovated experiences of nurturing or support on the margins”. However, even
these proposals don’t question the family itself in a deeper way. They are
proposals more focused on allowing women to participate in the labour market.
Ultimately, they are adult-centric proposals. And, regarding the miserable
figures of children with secure attachments, I fear that these proposals could
even worsen the situation for children if the nuclear family model is
maintained. By this, I don’t mean that children need their biological mother,
father, or parent, but they do need adults who allow them a secure and stable
attachment.
In this sense, it might even be helpful to “de-centre” biological parents, to
think about care and parenting in a community, a tribe, parenting models that
include a network, a community of adults in the children’s lives. The African
proverb “it takes a village to raise a child” points in this direction. Children
need more secure and stable relationships with adults, beyond their parents, a
“village.”
There is some research on the perspectives of children raised in consensually
non-monogamous relationships. According to Elisabeth Sheff, “The presence of
more than two adults in the family provides several advantages to children, such
as receiving more attention, nurturing, and time from significant adults,
receiving more gifts for special occasions, and being exposed to a greater
number of positive role models. It also allows them to form family bonds with
other children beyond biogenetic kinship and to have more siblings”.
> The parenting network does not have to be limited to the sexual and emotional
> bonds of the parents: I am thinking of networks of relational anarchy,
> networks that decentralize love and the couple.
Other recent research with children says: “Children living in polyamorous
households often view their parents’ romantic partners as resource persons,
which fosters the development of a positive view of these adults in the child.
Many children explained their affection for their parents’ partners by
highlighting how these adults cared for them and supported them, emotionally and
materially. This echoes studies conducted with parents practicing NMC, who
described their extra-dyadic romantic partners as supportive, loving, and
understanding, not only for them but also for their children.” Thinking
further, in terms of the concept of “village” or community, the nurturing
network need not be limited to the parents’ sexual affective ties. I’m thinking
of networks of relational anarchy, networks that de-centre love and the couple
(or couples).
This isn’t so simple. Myriam Rodríguez del Real and Javier Correa Román say in
an article in El Salto: “The central issue is understanding that friendship has
been emptied of material content in order to centralize the couple. Societies
construct systems of kinship and affinity that determine which bonds are
recognized and which are left on the margins. The heterosexual monogamous couple
constitutes the center of these systems, and the rest of the relationships
(including friendship) are reconfigured in response to it”.
And: “Therefore, it is not simply a matter of ‘giving more importance to
friends,’ but of rejecting the current configurations of both the couple and
friendship to create new relational forms. We need to ‘disorient’ (…) the
normative notions of affection in order to imagine other forms of relational
inhabitation. Only to the extent that we think of other forms of friendship does
the couple cease to make sense as the organising centre of our lives”.
In a talk about abolishing the family in Seville two years ago, considering
alternatives to the family, Nuria Alabao spoke about building relationships with
a reciprocal obligation (in order to assume caregiving), and that these types of
relationships take time to build. We already have this obligation in today’s
family, and I seriously doubt it contributes to adequate care, neither for
children nor for adults or the elderly. For me, caregiving out of obligation
isn’t care, but rather a sacrifice. And, today, the vast majority of women have
to make this sacrifice to care for their parents or another relative.
> How do we bring our experiences of mutual support networks to the centre of
> society? How do we change our perceptions so that we see ourselves as capable
> of trusting these networks?
Personally, I think more about making commitments—that is, I voluntarily make a
commitment in a relationship (of any kind) that doesn’t require reciprocity.
It’s more about trusting the network (of relational anarchy, of my community),
that when I need care or support, there will be a person in the network (or
several) who can take it on, and they don’t have to be the same people who
previously received support from me. I feel like this is something we’re already
trying to practice in my network.
Hil Malatino, in his book Trans Care (Bellaterra, 2021) , offers this minimal
definition of community: people who are re-weaving. And when I review my
experience of the last nine years, facing my family traumas, it has been a
constant re-weaving of my networks. Some people left my networks, others joined.
Perhaps we should leave behind the idea of a stable, lifelong mutual support
network that should assume the care and support—emotional, financial, parenting,
when we are sick—that today is assumed (often poorly) by the family, and instead
rely on our networks, always fragile, always in reconfiguration, but capable of
sustaining us when we need them? I don’t know. I’m still afraid of it myself,
but, at the same time, my networks have sustained me over the past few years,
and they continue to sustain me.
How do we bring our experiences of mutual support networks to the centre of
society? How do we change our perceptions so that we see ourselves as capable of
trusting these networks? How can we strengthen them?
I don’t have the answers. I think it’s about building by walking and
experimenting. This is just a start. And, for me, building alternatives to
family, new structures of mutual support and care, is a matter of survival. I’ve
outlived my family, and I’ve gotten this far thanks to my networks.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Machine translation. Photo: David F. Sabadell
The post Abolishing the family: A survivor’s perspective appeared first on
Freedom News.