And so I tried to think: what is it exactly, this change that we seek? How does it translate into achievements, into practicality, into words? What would make me happy? Is it a new law that passes? Those poor lobbyists for the nationality campaign. It’s been over 6 years of them screaming and shouting, and once again they ride the coaster of empty promises. The domestic violence bill? We got excited about it for exactly 2 hours when we heard it was listed on the agenda of the Ministers’ meeting. And then it got bumped, just like that. Countless days of hard work gets thrown into the recycle bin by a mere few words from some guy.

I can’t remember, tonight, what change looks like. We are seeking no change tonight. The most hopeful of us can only wish that nobody dies of violence tomorrow.

I never liked the term “professional” – even less so when I moved to social justice work. What does it mean when an activist is “professional”? Does it mean she answers her emails on time? Standardizes her communication? Sends “official” responses to people? Is diplomatic with those who tick her off? Conforms to ways of social engagement?

What does it mean when we come, as activists from different organizations to work together? And why in the world have we failed so miserably to do so in Lebanon? I hate the word “network” almost as must as I hate the word “NGO.” They are both loaded with nasty power dynamics. Sometimes I catch myself thinking: this organization will have to respond to our request because of so-and-so a factor. Leverage, waste, favors, funding, all those crappy things we don’t want to deal with as feminists. But the past two weeks I learned something very important. What tips the scale is not how many organizations you know or work with. It’s the quality of activist friends you have.

As feminists in particular, we need a lot more than funders and networks and partners and supporters. We need friends. And not in the “become a friend of this NGO” sense of the word, but real friendship. We need to work with people we can talk to about our lives, about our pains. We need people we can genuinely share our successes with. We need people who will say “let’s talk about this big project over beer at our favorite pub – I’m buying.”

Indeed, I have discovered lately that I can’t possibly work on feminist initiatives with people who aren’t my friends. I can’t depend on organizations where I don’t have any friends. The support they give you is important. They have your back and you have theirs. You can focus on the real problems, rather than on internal struggles. You know they will be honest and trustworthy and are not secretly out to cause you more harm than good. Come to think of it, I don’t have many good friends in my life anymore who aren’t activists. That’s a good thing.

So lesson of the day is: one must, if she wants to succeed as a feminist, invest in good friends, both inside and outside the team. It pays back when you need them the most. We don’t have to all work together in the same organization. Some of us are radical feminists, some of us are environmentalists, some of us are academics, some of us are researchers, some of us are filmmakers. We do different things but we get each other. We know how hard it gets. And we know we can count on each other.

Last week I needed a big favor and I turned to two organizations to help me. One of them is directly concerned with my project (supposedly) and instead of helping, they pissed me off. The second does very different work than mine, but the minute I sent them an email saying: “I dunno, I’m thinking of this, what do you think?” I got instant replies from almost everyone saying: “Whatever you need, I’m here for you, here’s how I can help.” It completely boosted my morale, just like the Army of the Dead comes to Aragorn’s rescue in LOTR. What was the key distinction between the two organizations? The second group are good friends of mine. Of course they will help.

The post spread more widely than I initially thought it would and attracted both the supportive and the angry. If you browse through the comments on the post, you will see some very pointless, angry, ad hominem arguments, which I really don’t know how to (or if I should) respond to. It got me thinking.

It is mind-blowing how we got the same attacks that feminists across the globe have been getting for years: that’s we’re “angry,” that we’re “ugly,” that we need to get laid, that we’re missing the point, that we should just shut up, and that we’re taking sides. Ad hominem par excellence. At one point, after too many disgruntled phone calls from my friends (who are mostly FPM supporters), I began to question whether or not the Feminist Collective should have spoken up at all. I wondered if I actually was pushing it too far or making a big deal out of it. I saw Deems working from the kitchen when I went in to make some coffee (I don’t know why, but she seems to like working on the kitchen table) and asked her: Are we right, Deems? Or are they right?

Concise and matter-of-fact as always, she replied: Of course we’re right, Nadz.

Of course we’re right. I have always criticized women’s and “peace” organizations for not speaking up about happenings specifically and for presenting themselves too guardedly, fearing that anyone might stop liking them. They hide behind the “apolitical” stand and the obviously humanitarian slogans in order to keep friendly ties with everybody. But friendly ties never get us anywhere. They maintain the power dynamic and fear factor as it is. We are scared of politicians and men of power. We don’t want to piss them off. We want to ask them kindly for our rights.

I knew in my head that no power is ever given up easily. It is taken by (preferably peaceful) force. I have always known that, but to experience it is a totally different ballgame.  To put one’s opinions out there as radically against something that enjoys much popularity is more tough than I had imagined. But in the midst of my personal discomforted thinking, two things came out as crystal clear:

1. We must always put our opinions out there, even at the risk of being misunderstood, ridiculed, and called names. We must speak up even at the risk of making enemies. It is having enemies that shows us if we are being taken seriously.
2. A lot of women had a gut-instinct that something was wrong with the ad campaign, but didn’t know how to put their discomfort into words. They are feminists, whether they know it or not. And putting our feminism out there makes them feel supported enough to speak up as well. We may be few, but we will grow in numbers, and the more we grow, the stronger we become as a Collective.

And so I believe, with a much deeper understanding now, that we, as feminists, must stand up for the voice of the minority – no matter how tiny it may seem right now. And right now, to me, it seems really really tiny. I leave you with a quote from Audre Lorde:

I have come to believe over and over again, that what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood…. My silences had not protected me. Your silence will not protect you…. and while we wait in silence for that final luxury of fearlessness, the weight of that silence will choke us. The fact that we are here and that I speak these words is an attempt to break that silence and bridge some of those differences between us, for it is not difference which immobilizes us, but silence. And there are so many silences to be broken.

- The Transformation of Silence into Language and Action, Sister Outsider