Nick , 28, IT worker.

I grew up during a fascist dictatorship in Uruguay, the child of leftist parents, so there was always a sense that political struggle and protest was legitimate and necessary. By the time I made it to university in Australia the need to rebel and make a personal statement about the collective need for change pretty much drove me by instinct to seek out rallies and organising. Once I got involved and experienced the tangible effect of direct action my belief in the possibility of radical change was only confirmed even more...   My education has been pretty much catastrophic: From the first minute I stepped in a classroom I felt already at odds with the knowledge being conferred. I felt that a radical/critical perspective was not even being presented as viable, and it outraged me and made me want to seek change. This is partly the reason why I have taken 2 attempts at completing high school and ten years in order to complete a 3 year university degree. My frustration with the non-critical content of education has made it very difficult to stay focused and 'go through the motions' in order to pass courses.

Peer education and the knowledge gained in the collective/on the street has to a large degree supplemented anything I would have learned in lectures, and built my own political critique, as well as personal relationships.   …the university occupation against upfront fees in early 1997 was my first taste of direct action and one of the few examples of winning demands, albeit temporarily.  It was also my first time getting arrested, coming into conflict with the forces of the state. Occupying a space and being in direct control showed me the possibility, however brief, of an unalienated life, and completely changed me. To this day it shapes my outlook and my beliefs about what should happen in the world. 

Becoming involved, as a man, in a largely feminist/socialist organisation with a large, assertive feminist caucus opened my eyes to my own sexist and bourgeois aspirations, and taught me the principle of questioning your own privileges, which until then was totally alien to me.   …for a large part of my 20s my peer groups were defined exclusively in terms of activism.  While I don’t think it was a strictly healthy thing or very sustainable over the long term, they was pretty amazing times which I keep memories of.  Being a worker makes it very hard to be motivated. When I was a student, I lived in a political bubble, where I lived/breathed/ate politics, and every day was spent theorising about the movement, about political ideas, about the possibilities for radical change.  Now, whenever I want to be involved in a campaign, like the recent solidarity with Chile stuff I helped organise, just getting out of bed when you're tired from work, and the daily realities of your own individual problems, makes "the struggle" much more of a struggle. 
   
When I was in Belgium my boyfriend and I were gay-bashed. I have no problem talking about it, but to tell the truth I have really put it to the back of my mind for the moment, because it's a bit painful and I haven't been able to work it all out yet. Personal tragedy like that, especially when it's based on political hate, brings your beliefs into question, and my anti-racist beliefs and faith in the will of people from different oppressed groups to get along, is not something I'm comfortable with questioning. Maybe that's because I have an element of faith in the will of the human spirit towards solidarity. It has been largely, unlike the other stuff I talked about, a very negative experience. The one positive side of it is that it made me value my relationship even more, and brought home the fact that life can be taken away at any moment.

…Kathy Acker's "blood and guts in high school" taught me about the power of metanarratives and the importance and fluidity of sexual identity.  It shaped my idea that struggle, especially the very limited understanding of a specific form of class struggle, was naive and simplistic. It also taught me that madness is not necessarily a bad thing, and that in an alienated world such as ours everyone must be a least a little mad to conceptualise a radical vision of the future.