A new report released this week from the UN declares catastrophic threats to biodiversity on earth, likely to affect human society, which echoes the fears of the Extinction Rebellion protestors. Both provoked memories of my own gentle awakening as an activist for our planet.
For me, it began with Johnson’s baby powder. I was ten years old. My Nanny bought me the powder. I loved its smell and it felt grown up. Imagine my shock when a teacher told me that this powder was tested on animals. I didn’t know exactly what this meant and must have looked at her with undisguised confusion. She explained that such products went into the eyes of rabbits and mice to check that they were safe for humans.
Safe for humans.
It took me a while to digest this. I was an ill child, often in hospital, often on liberal doses of medication, but I was also said to be bright. It didn’t take long for me to ask myself about other things done to animals for the benefit of humans, including the testing of my pills.
Circumstances made me a bedroom activist. My background is working class and I’ve used a wheelchair since I was a teenager. Going to protests in those days was impossible. Transport was inaccessible and membership costs to something like Greenpeace, as far out of my reach as being a vegetarian. Especially in a large household where money was tight and food plain.
In the late seventies it was punk, and its often neglected political activism, that put a fire in my heart. Inspired by the influence of anarchist bands such as Crass, a little later it was the animal welfare stance of Morrissey of The Smiths that influenced my direction.
Once on paltry benefits, I joined the International Fund for Animal Welfare (IFAW) when fired up over whale hunting scandals and the obscene clubbing to death of seal pups. From seals and whales, I became aware of the environment and nuclear-free boroughs. Environmental calamity was forecast from nuclear devastation when the Russians invaded Afghanistan in 1979, and later, with the arrival of cruise missiles from the US. I joined the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND) and sent gifts to the Greenham Common camps. The nightmare of a nuclear war ending everything was palpably real.
I was a member of DAARE (Disabled people Against Animal Research) run by my late friend the disabled animal activist, Sue Crowshaw. DAARE had its detractors for taking a stance against medical testing on animals and regretfully it no longer operates, though I remain committed that alternatives must be found.
In recent times my environmental activism took what might be seen as a reversal – the apparent defensive of plastic straws. When news broke about Seattle, US, banning plastic straws, I wrote for The Guardian about how unthinking blanket bans were unhelpful to disabled people who need them to drink safely, covering a multiplicity of needs. In short no, metal, bamboo, glass and paper do not work in the same way.
Disabled activists in many countries were shocked that our needs had not been considered. Over the days that followed the community came in for what some called ‘able-splaining’ – non-disabled people explaining in patronising tones what straws we should use, full of supercilious answers about alternatives. The perpetuating misconception was that the disabled community supports the use of plastics, and are somehow responsible for the deaths of vast swathes of marine life. Not helped by the current government ideology of seeing disabled people as the cause of austerity, the “useless eaters” who cost too much money and use too much.
Meanwhile I was video interviewed for AJ+ (a social media offshoot of Al Jazeera) by a reporter in San Francisco and everything went crazy. Disabled Eco activists everywhere were drawn into the arguments. We saw the horrific photo of the turtle with straws in its nose and wept, as I once did for clubbed seals.
But the correlation is so skewed. It is governments and manufacturers who must stem their greed, investing instead in safe materials that have the flexibility to suit all. It’s big business who must stop the trivial use of plastics in so much of our daily lives that we hardly realise it. Our planet, our survival, cannot be a hostage to the voracious appetite of profit and unhindered capitalism.
As an ageing punk, I find it sad and absurd that we’ve learnt so little in the last 40 years. With the growth of movements like Extinction Rebellion, and the democratising of protest via social media, there’s never been a better time to work together to protect our precious home planet. But let’s not turn on each other, let’s turn on governments and policymakers.
In quiet passion by the glorious, precious English sea, my own eco activism will continue as I sip a locally sourced Sussex apple juice. Using a biodegrade straw, just within my budget.