I am often surprised when I talk about grassroots work around the world to friends or acquaintances, and they know nothing of it. I often look at them for a minute, and wait for the laugh filled voice of "no, just kidding; of course I know what you are talking about."
It mostly doesn't come.
It has surprised me that I know many people that don't know who the Zapatistas are, or who Karen Silkwood or Rachel Carson were, or the Diggers, or the story of the astonishing imperialist views and actions of the 20th c of America (meaning, people in this country often think America has never invaded anyone without proper provocation-well, that's the wild card debate point- proper provocation-isn't it).
So, there are books that I keep around to lend out, even though those books are mostly returned to me finally at my bidding, with downcast eyes from friends with the hope in those eyes I don't ask what they thought of it.
Oh well.
But still I move forward, always forward in the hopes that a book I have will light up a corner of a mind somewhere.
This book is one I have just those hopes for, but will probably be a prop in the former scenario. It tells in oral history the ongoing, messy, dynamic, thrilling story of the Argentinian movement that surfaced after the economy collapsed thanks to repressive international policies. Their cry "Everyone Must Go" took 4 governments down in record time in sucession. This all happened on December 19 and 20, 2001 when the people took to the streets and found ways to collaborate in their own future, taking over factories, setting up their own social and economic systems for themselves.
Those movements are less visible in Argentina as of 2008, but do not believe they have disappeared completely. When people find a path, they will hack away at the undergrowth again and again and ultimately move farther along the path. This book tells you ordinary (?) people's stories in their win words, which is my favorite method of reading history.
The water damaged copy (never leave your window open in the summer in the subtropics) I own sits here on the back of the couch, waiting for someone else to share its stories with; wish it good luck.