United States singer Ani DiFranco interviewed

This music video is called Ani DiFranco32 Flavors.

By Ian Sinclair in Britain:

Feminism‘s passionate advocate

Thursday 2nd October 2014

Singer ANI DIFRANCO tells Ian Sinclair that she’s as committed as ever to promoting the cause of women

HAVING made her name as an independently minded and politically progressive singer-songwriter, Ani DiFranco’s new album Allergic to Water is something of a departure.

“I had another kid so it comes out of a time of going inwards,” the 44-year-old US feminist icon tells me backstage before her show at the Union Chapel in London.

“Kids draw you into yourself and your house and your family, so it’s much less outward looking for those circumstantial reasons.”

DiFranco says that if there is a theme to the album, her 20th, it is “how everything in life that is essential and sustains you is also painful.” As you get older you learn that “the more important and marvellous something is the harder it is.”

Having set up her own independent record label rather than taking the quick corporate buck when she was 18, DiFranco has certainly paid her artistic dues. Since then she has slowly built up a fiercely loyal audience and garnered heaps of critical praise too.

The personal mood of the new album is especially striking when compared to her previous record — 2012’s impressive Which Side Are You On?

The perfect soundtrack to the Occupy movement, the title track is a barnstorming reworking of the old political broadside, including a banjo intro from her folk singer friend Pete Seeger, who died in January.

Turning to the current White House incumbent, she confesses that she was “overly excited” when Obama was elected in 2008. Six years later, she says his presidency has been “frustrating and disappointing,” though perhaps not for the reasons some might expect.

She still believes that he is a “very good man, a very brilliant man” but “he has been surrounded by brick walls and hatred the whole time,” she asserts.

Rather than focusing on the president as an individual, she believes it’s important to focus on the core of the problem — “the extreme Republican right-wing apparatus, the completely corporate-controlled, lobbyist-controlled government in which Obama didn’t stand a chance of effecting any real change.”

She concedes that Obama made an essential error “right out of the gate” in choosing to retain several key members of President Bush’s team: “You can’t change things with the same guys. So when he retained the finance dude and the war dudes it was like: ‘Well, what kind of change are they going to make?’ Obviously very little.”

How does she feel about Hillary Clinton, the likely Democratic presidential nominee in 2016? “I would be thrilled if she was elected at this point,” she replies. “Female in the White House. Good Thing. Period.”

Comparing Clinton to Obama, she says that the former’s definitely more “in with the in-crowd in DC, so maybe she can get more done against that brick wall.”

A surprising view — when I interviewed DiFranco for this newspaper in 2007, Clinton was the favourite to be the Democratic presidential candidate and the singer was in London to promote her brilliant 2-disc career retrospective Canon.

Her view on Clinton has changed considerably — “I’m not into Hillary at all, except as a door opener,” she told me seven years ago. She hoped then that Clinton would pave the way for “truly progressive women.”

“She’s very much a politician,” she argued in 2007. “The best I could hope for out of her is not too much damage is done.”

No-one’s politics are static, of course, but this seems a significant change nonetheless.

Fans will be happy to know DiFranco’s passion for feminism is as strong as ever. She is excited to hear that people are talking about the “fourth wave” of feminism in Britain.

“If feminism can lead us out of the ‘me’ generation and the conception of ourselves as consumers back into citizens with purpose that would be awesome,” she declares.

She isn’t aware of a similar feminist resurgence in the US, though admits she isn’t as in touch as she used to be. “I feel very often like the Last of the Mohicans,” she admits. “I hope that there are many other young women out there engaging with the concept and generating momentum but I don’t know. I just feel like I’m the only one in the room talking about patriarchy.”

As she prepares to finish the set list for the night’s show, I ask how she stays hopeful in a world full of war and threatened by climate change.

“It’s a pessimistic time and it’s funny to be out and about this season with a very personal record in such a highly charged and urgent political climate,” she tells me. “But here I am, this is the turn my life has taken,” she adds philosophically.

Allergic to Water is released on October 14 by Righteous Babe Records.

British feminist sociologist Ann Oakley interviewed

This video, recorded in Scotland, says about itself:

Prof. Ann Oakley – The Invention of Gender: Social Facts and Imagined Worlds

Professor Ann Oakley, distinguished sociologist, feminist and writer, delivers the annual Chrystal Macmillan lecture.

Prof Oakley is Professor of Sociology and Social Policy at the Institute of Education, University of London. In 2011 the British Sociological Association gave her one of their first Lifetime Achievement Awards for her extraordinary contribution to the history of the development of sociology in Britain.

Recorded on Thursday 29 November 2012 at the University of Edinburgh’s George Square lecture theatre.

From daily The Morning Star in Britain:

The changing role of the ‘housewife’

Tuesday 5th August 2014

Forty years on from the publication of her landmark book Housewife, ANN OAKLEY talks to the Morning Star [about] modern feminism and gender roles today

THIS year marks the 40th anniversary of the publication of Ann Oakley’s Housewife.

Based on Oakley’s PhD research, the pioneering feminist book looks at the role of the housewife in modern industrialised society.

“The study of domestic labour was not taken seriously at all — it wasn’t understood to be a topic, in fact,” Oakley tells me as we sit in her office at the Institute for Education in London where she is professor of sociology and social policy.

During her research, Oakley, now 70, interviewed 40 women living in suburban London. She found they tended to be dissatisfied because of the monotony, fragmentation and social isolation inherent in the role of housewife.

Therefore, as “housework is directly opposed to the possibility of human self-actualisation,” she concluded with a call to abolish the housewife role.

“I was being deliberately provocative,” she explains about the book’s final chapter which also called for the abolition of the traditional family and the abolition of traditional gender roles.

Four decades later, what’s changed?

“I think the whole notion of women being housewives has changed,” she replies.

“If you asked women now to talk about themselves as housewives they wouldn’t know what you were talking about really.”

But while she concedes men do more housework today, she explains it’s still not equal.

“I don’t think there is any study in the world which shows it’s equal.”

Sure enough, in the newly published 2014 Global Trends survey, 70 per cent of British women said they are mostly responsible for cooking, food shopping and household cleaning.

These findings are supported by research from the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (2013) and the Institute for Public Policy Research (2012), both of which show British women still do the lion’s share of domestic labour.

“Most of the change that has happened since the ’70s has been, in my view, fairly superficial,” Oakley says.

“The change in behaviour is probably less than the professed attitude — what people say is more egalitarian than what they do.”

In particular, Oakley’s 1970s research was interested in the inequality of responsibility.

“In so far as men did housework it was construed by the men and women as him helping her with the housework — not the other way round.

“In terms of the issue of responsibility, what happened in the 1970s is still happening now.”

When men do pitch in, studies show they generally end up doing the tasks that are arguably more enjoyable and leisurely — gardening and DIY, for example.

Oakley agrees. “In the area of childcare, it’s still the case that men are more likely to be doing the more enjoyable side of childcare, rather than changing the dirty nappies.”

So why does this grossly unfair status quo continue?

“Patriarchy is the simple explanation,” Oakley argues.

“Men are a privileged group and there is no reason they should give up their privilege unless they are forced to do so.” This is where feminism comes in. “Most of the change in men’s behaviour, I suspect, has come about because the women they are involved with have put pressure on them to change. Men haven’t, en masse, decided that housework is a good thing to do.”

Oakley sees increasing men’s involvement in housework and childcare as an important step in addressing the social problem of masculinity — a topic she explored in a 2011 Guardian article co-written with fellow feminist academic Cynthia Cockburn.

Quoting government statistics, they noted: “Men were perpetrators in 91 per cent of all violent incidents in England and Wales … 81 per cent for domestic violence, 86 per cent for assault, 94 per cent for wounding, 96 per cent for mugging, 98 per cent for robbery.”

In addition, Ministry of Justice figures show men to be responsible for 98 per cent of sexual offences, 92 per cent of drug offences and 89 per cent of criminal damage.

“The evidence is that being involved in basic care work, being involved in very close relationships with dependent people including children, is something that brings out qualities which are traditionally associated with being a woman — caring, altruism and all that,” Oakley says.

“That happens with men too, but they have to first of all be willing to put themselves in the position so those changes can occur.”

According to 2011 research by Churchill Home Insurers, one in seven of the population pay for outside hired help to do housework. Oakley doesn’t buy this as a solution to the problem.

“That’s not a solution because very often the people who are hired are women and they are underpaid, their job conditions and security are not good,” she says.

“And usually it is the woman in the household who is responsible for looking after the hired help. So you’ve simply passed the oppression on in some sense.”

Oakley’s politics and research interests were energised by the second-wave feminism of the early 1970s.

Forty years later, many commentators argue we are currently in the midst of fourth-wave feminism, with groups and campaigns such as UK Feminista, Everyday Sexism and No More Page 3 evidence of renewed feminist activism.

“I don’t know enough about it really,” Oakley admits when I ask her about the resurgent movement.

However, she feels that some of the media discussions around contemporary feminism she is aware of have little in common with the women’s liberation movement of the ’70s.

She points to the current focus on the representation of women in positions of power. “We were not arguing for women’s share of the top jobs. We were talking about basic issues, we were arguing on the level of basic reproductive rights and access to childcare — state-provided childcare. It was all about doing something about the domestic oppression and not about undoing the privilege at the top.”

Rather than getting a bigger portion of the pie, she argues, “it was about changing the pie. We wanted a different kind of pie.”

She is philosophical when I suggest that her work, and the work of many other feminists from her generation, is rarely cited in the popular feminist polemics being published today.

“Time moves on — it’s one of the sad things that so much has to be rediscovered time and again,” she says.

In fact she says she found one book that referred to her as dead — “The late Ann Oakley.”

“I’m not late in the sense I’m dead and also I’m quite a punctual person,” she quips.

Having read Housewife and Oakley’s stupendously good Gender and Planet Earth — a book that moves from men and meat-eating to critiquing post-modernism — I can safely say contemporary feminism is missing a lot by ignoring Oakley’s groundbreaking work.

As the recent surveys mentioned above show, housework continues to be a source of inequality between men and women.

Housewife could therefore be the key text in the revival of feminist concern over housework that must take place if women are to gain any semblance of equality in the future.

USA: “For only five nights in the fall of 1973, a documentary called ‘Year of the Woman’ played at the Fifth Avenue Cinema in Greenwich Village. Crowds lined up around the block. Arthur Schlesinger Jr., described it as ‘the greatest combination of sex and politics ever seen in a film.’ And then ‘Year of the Woman’ all but vanished for 42 years, robbing us of a movie that captures — in its raucous, weird, unmistakably ’70s style — one of the most pivotal moments in feminist history.”[HuffPost]

British suffragette Sylvia Pankhurst, new biography interview

This video from Britain says about herself:

2 Feb 2011

This is the trailer for the inspiring new feature length documentary Sylvia Pankhurst: Everything is possible now available on DVD from the charity WORLDwrite. The full film is packed with little-known facts, rare archive imagery, expert interviews and exclusive testimony from Sylvia’s son, Richard Pankhurst and his wife Rita. The campaigns Sylvia led embraced far more than ‘votes for women’ as she uniquely understood the fight for democratic rights required a challenge to the system. For full details visit www.worldwrite.org.uk/sylviapankhurst.

By Louise Raw in Britain:

What would Sylvia do? lessons from history

Friday 24th January 2014

LOUISE RAW speaks to writer and activist Katherine Connelly about her new book on Sylvia Pankhurst why her legacy still matters today

Katherine Connelly wants to change the world. While she’s by no means alone in that, the extent to which she’s already had a good crack at it is impressive.

Having talked to her at length, I’m not surprised to learn that her first foray into the proud ranks of the awkward squad came during primary school, where she campaigned, successfully, against a uniform policy that banned girls from wearing trousers.

In fact, the only wonder is that she waited so long and wasn’t organising nursery school walkouts – toddle-outs? – against nap time.

By the age of 17 Connelly was leading a student strike against the Iraq war.

In 2013 she co-ordinated the Emily Wilding Davison Memorial Campaign to celebrate the centenary of the suffragette’s death at the Epsom Derby.

Despite a marked lack of enthusiasm from the Derby committee, which rejected the idea of a minute’s silence in memory of Davison’s fatal protest as too upsetting for their well-heeled guests (whether it was her death or the painful reminder of women getting the vote that was potentially distressing remains unclear), Connelly was instrumental in bringing the matter to public attention via the Channel 4 documentary on Davison presented by Clare “National Treasure” Balding.

Even as a PhD student there are no flies on Connelly. Many have studied the writings of Karl Marx, but few made the savvy decision to focus on the influence of Parisian popular culture on the same, necessitating – quel dommage – frequent trips to Paris.

I say this with no trace of bitterness. East London, the locus of my own thesis, being equally lovely in the springtime.

Twenty-thirteen also saw Connelly – still, disconcertingly, only 27 – somehow find the time to produce a significant new work on the life and politics of Sylvia Pankhurst.

Those of us who haven’t even got as far as making new year resolutions may feel slightly exhausted by this persistent polymathery.

However, I must report that Connelly is not only charming and modest in person, but as bracingly and sincerely political as one could wish for.

She is entirely serious about wanting to change the world, and not in a nebulous way – she has refined upon the careers of the likes of past lefty greats in order to extract useful lessons from history.

The Pankhurst book accordingly provides insight into the logistics of building mass movements alongside the biography.

It in part is something of a handbook for today’s activists, and its timing is significant. She tells me: “With the explosion in mass movements, there is a new relevance in Sylvia’s ideas and a new generation of protesters who could benefit from them.”

It’s an intriguing idea – there is, too often, a disconnect between political generations which can lead to hard-won wisdom being lost and necessitate the constant reinvention of various wheels.

It’s all too easy to rest on one’s laurels and criticise new forms of protest and political engagement, but this serves little purpose when the left so badly needs to unite its troops against capitalism, not each other.

If anyone understood the need to concentrate on issues not personalities it was Pankhurst, who grew up with some of the biggest in the suffrage movement.

Her break with her mother and sister, Christabel and Emmeline, and from the Women’s Social and Political Union is well-known, but the complex reasons for it perhaps less so.

Sylvia Pankhurst’s analysis of class had set her apart from Christabel, in particular, well before the ultimate rupture.

Her politics had been strongly influenced by those of her father Richard.

Known, rather wonderfully, as the Red Doctor, Richard Pankhurst was a qualified barrister but campaigned tirelessly for numerous causes as well as suffrage, including – deep breath – Irish home rule, Indian independence, secular education, disestablishment of the Church of England and abolition of the House of Lords.

He was responsible for drafting the Women’s Disabilities Removal Bill, the first women’s suffrage Bill in England.

With his younger wife Emmeline, he formed the Women’s Franchise League in 1889. The Women’s Social and Political Union (WSPU) was established at the Pankhurst family home in Manchester in 1903.

Richard Pankhurst stood for Parliament twice, unsuccessfully, before dying suddenly when Sylvia was 16.

But she never forgot the lessons she learned at his side. With him she had met and listened to working-class families. In the late 1800s, it was nothing new for members of the middle and upper classes to be moved by the squalid conditions workers’ endured – indeed it was somewhat de rigueur – but what resulted was often a kind of detached philanthropy, rather than a deeper political analysis.

Pankhurst, by contrast, felt a passionate fury at the injustices she witnessed, far removed from a mere patrician inclination to dispense alms.

“The misery … revealed in those pinched faces … awoke in me a maddening sense of impotence; and there were moments when I had the impulse to dash my head against the dreary walls of those squalid streets.”

Pankhurst’s understanding of the centrality of class stayed with her in the course of her work in the suffrage movement, though her refusal to abandon it would have far-reaching personal consequences for her.

Connelly’s book brings the desperate struggle for the vote vividly to life, exposing the reality behind popular myth. Here, suffragettes are not faintly comedic, scatty middle-class housewives and spinsters – no shades of Mary Poppins’s Mrs Banks – but in deadly political earnest.

Winston Churchill is not a great British hero but aggressively anti-suffrage and, frankly, a bit of an all-round git – something to remember as we face a Govian jingofest around war and nationalism.

And the suffrage movement was faced with a great deal more than polite Edwardian tutting. It was so transgressive and threatening that the state responded with extreme brutality and literal torture.

As Connelly points out, Pankhurst had cause to give considerable thought to the roles and effectiveness of mass demonstrations and direct action in the fight against oppression.

The famous split in the WSPU, and in the Pankhurst family, was far more complicated than a division between those who favoured civil disobedience and those who did not.

Pankhurst’s position was nuanced, but always anti-elitist.

Her uneasiness with her mother and sister’s leadership of the WSPU was not over the increasing violence of their tactics per se, but their move away from inclusivity.

The perceived failure of a mass demo in 1906, which despite its size was completely ignored by the government, led the WSPU leadership to question the usefulness of mass protest.

This was the beginning of a shift towards a more middle-class movement which Pankhurst could not support.

Hers was an eternal mission to explain and, accordingly, to include. If you wished to win hearts and minds, she believed, it was vital to ensure the wider world understood both your cause and your tactics.

Thus when Christabel initiated a secret arson campaign, Pankhurst opposed it largely because she felt it could be misconstrued and alienate public opinion.

While the courage of suffrage activists enduring imprisonment and force-feeding was plain to see and had won considerable sympathy for the cause, arson was far less heroic, especially should it have innocent and unintended victims.

Pankhurst herself experienced horrifically brutal force-feeding, but it was not only in prison that suffrage campaigners faced violence.

Pankhurst was constantly attacked while campaigning with the WSPU’s East London Federation of Suffragettes (delightfully known as the ELFS). Meetings were frequently disrupted and Pankhurst herself was “never free from numerous bruises.”

Pankhurst had deliberately chosen London’s East End as the locus of her efforts to rebuild the ailing women’s movement.

East London was just one of many large, extremely poor working-class communities but crucially positioned.

It was close enough to rich London that the more affluent and powerful could not turn a completely blind eye to it and within marching distance of Parliament.

She was not the first to capitalise on this – the matchwomen and dockers who struck in 1888 and 1889 also used their east London location to great effect.

Pankhurst’s desire to build a “strong, self-reliant” working-class movement was at increasing odds with WSPU policy. As working-class ELF Annie Barnes later recalled, “Sylvia wasn’t like her mother … only interested in getting the vote for rich women. Sylvia disagreed. ‘My father launched the campaign for … all women … and I’m carrying it on’.”

Released from prison under the Liberal government’s pernicious Cat and Mouse Act – which ejected imprisoned suffragettes whose health was failing due to hunger strike and force-feeding so that they could recuperate at home, only to be rearrested – Pankhurst went to live with her friends Mr and Mrs Payne, who were shoemakers, in a small room in their house in Old Ford.

The inevitable breach with the WSPU – and with her mother and sister – came in 1913.

Pankhurst spoke in support of the Dublin lockout, while the increasingly right-wing Christabel made alliances with the Ulster loyalists.

Pankhurst was summoned to Paris, where Christabel had been living in comfortable exile for two years, and was told the ELF must sever completely from the WSPU.

The rift would be permanent, and the breach with her mother caused Pankhurst much pain.

Back in east London, Pankhurst continued to work tirelessly for the community, more than once giving the food from her table and blankets from her bed to those in extreme need.

She distributed free milk for malnourished babies and worked for compensation for soldiers wounded on the front line – in a war she had opposed vocally and constantly from its beginning, in the face of an initial wave of semi-hysterical patriotism.

However she was careful never to stray into mere charity – her aim was always to empower working-class women to fight for themselves.

The winning of the vote was by no means an end for Pankhurst. She spent her entire life campaigning and was a committed anti-fascist and anti-imperialist throughout two world wars and beyond.

She was also a thorn in the side of the British government to the end.

She lobbied tirelessly in support of Ethiopia after the Italian invasion and received death threats from London Italian fascists for her trouble – ‘”You will pay with your life if you publish any [fascist’s ] name in your paper.”

She died in 1960, having championed the cause of the oppressed all her days.

Connelly’s book is no hagiography and does not shy away from assessing the degree to which Pankhurst was a voluntarist rather than revolutionary.

However she provides a welcome insight into the life and mind of an extraordinary campaigner.

As a very active activist herself, Connelly knows her territory and wants the lessons of Pankhurst’s political life to inform and guide us today.

After the book was published, Connelly received a disconcerting object lesson in how little things have changed for those who challenge the status quo.

Her friend and flatmate is Sam Fairbairn of the People’s Assembly Against Austerity.

As the Star exclusively reported, their home was the target of what seems to have been an organised raid, in which cash and valuables were untouched, but documents rifled in a methodical manner.

Connelly’s mother, the playwright Ros Connelly, overheard the police called to the scene saying they “wouldn’t be surprised if that was us” as they left.

Though understandably alarmed, Connelly is undeterred – and perhaps recalling her subject’s own words at the end of her life, “I have never deserted a cause in its days of hardship and adversity.”

Something of an understatement, but a typically clear-eyed and modest summary of, and by, a remarkable woman.

Louise Raw is the author of Striking a Light: The Bryant & May Matchwomen and their Place in History (Continuum Bloomsbury).

Katherine Connelly’s book Sylvia Pankhurst: Suffragette, Socialist and Scourge of Empire (Pluto Press) can be purchased from www.plutobooks.com.

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