Before, we always argued to keep wiccans out, mostly because we felt that they were counter revolutionary, in that they settled for personal politics and sexual power games over Radical Feminist analysis of Socialism.
Also, too, the wiccans were still largely heterosexual and were fighting with their own lesbianing factioners over the issue of males leading their worship circles…the straight women preferred their husbands as Priestesses to lesbians, whom they said were “too male”.
Chi and Bella used to make fun of the wiccans by grabbing old scarves and prancing in circles waving them around and singing in falsetto voices about how they were magic wood nymphs who were trying to teach “negroes” how to worship a white female as God.
Chi was an excellent musician, because her family members were considered some of america’s jazz greats. I wrote my first comedy routine around that time…I strummed the acoustic guitar and sang in falsetto these words (think Holly Near):
“I was born twenty nine years ago
I didnt know it then, but I
was a Les-bi-an
I went to school
and got my msw
and now I drive a bmw.
I believe in freedom of the press
and Equal Rights for Whales…”
(then I would say “Bridge“)
And say “have any of you guys
ever read atlas shrugged by ayn rand?
I really love that book I want to be a libertarian”
Then I would start hacking and coughing and bow and leave. Oh what a laugh I got from my dark skinned pals on that one!
We were desperate for more members in our collective though, and even though we snickered behind their magical backs, we admired the wiccans somewhat for at least being out of the cultural box enough to see Female Divinity.
It was all fun and games until someone got hurt, and someone did. The wiccans opened their faux castle door one day to find it smeared in chicken blood. They called it “being blooded“, and they immediately closed down their witchy storefront and disappeared. We heard that some latina lesbian wiccans blooded them over letting white men lead their woodsy ceremonies.
When rational people ask me why it is that women are on the bottom of every group on earth, my answer is that women have developed the need to think the bottom IS the top, thanks to our religions and we are hopelessly lost in the victim/martyr mindset.
The solution for women is not the top at all, but the middle, where everything is drama’d down.
Continual celebration of spitting out more children to supply the fairy tales, has been forced on women, in the glorified “pedophilia-without-sex” called “Motherhood“.
About this time, sister came up with the idea of reaching out to the Women at the University in Boulder. The Women’s studies group there was busy standing powerlessly by as the Black History group was being dismantled, and because there was no groundswell to protest that development, due to the fact that white students were starting to claim that black students were getting preferential treatment on campus, all groups that had anything to do with racial or gender parity were disappeared too within a year or so.
The whole divide and conquer thing has never ever failed in making slaves out of everyone who chooses a side.
By 1982, everything that took root in the 60’s was dead.
The collective was approached by a woman named carol chargingthunder, who was involved with Yellow Thunder, an Indian group that was fighting the government in South Dakota. She had been arrested for smuggling guns from central america through mexico and to the indian encampment. She came to us to ask if we could help her pay for attorney fees.
But, because she was a member of the armed services when she smuggled those weapons, we knew we could do nothing. She said she knew many soldiers were also becoming arms dealers too.
After that, Chi disappeared for a number of years, scared off by the fbi men who broke into her house looking for her. I was scared off too, and started closing down the bookstore, shipping the books out of america. It was devastating to lose all that international history written by women of every culture, but I still feel that the books are alive somewhere though, and when I read of women’s parity groups in palestine and among the dalits of India and in parts of Africa, I think sometimes that the voices in those books are still unburned and living.
I think now too, of the genocidal gluttony that is destroying everything in Africa, and how we, at Woman to Woman Bookstore saw that all coming way back then, when race was a subject not yet taboo in America. Africa is our Mother, and this is the age of the motherless.
