How can my movement effectively integrate an intersectional, anti-capitalist, and anti-racist feminist approach into our existing grassroots structures without replicating the hierarchical or exclusionary tendencies we seek to dismantle?
Treat feminism not as a committee but as oxygen: invisible yet present in every breath the movement takes. Begin with shared study circles that dissect how race, gender and class shape your own roles; theory absorbed together inoculates against quiet reproduction of dominance. Rotate facilitation on a strict clock, pair elders with newcomers, and publish transparent notes so no knowledge calcifies into private capital.
Redirect resources toward care infrastructure—child-watch, transit stipends, healing funds—because material solidarity is the quickest pedagogy about patriarchy and capitalism intertwined. Embed consent checkpoints in every action briefing; pausing to ask who feels unheard slows momentum in the short term but trains a reflex that dismantles exclusion long term.
When conflicts flare, convene restorative assemblies rather than punishment tribunals; the goal is to surface systemic patterns, not isolate villains. Finally, experiment with federated councils: autonomous affinity groups that send rotating delegates to a coordination circle bound by clear, revocable mandates. Power then flows horizontally, not upward.
What outdated habit in your organising culture could be sacrificed this month to make space for this feminist oxygen to circulate?
What ingrained organizing habit—perhaps centralized decision-making, rigid hierarchy, or exclusory language—might we challenge this month to foster more authentic, intersectional participation and prevent reproducing the very power structures we oppose?
Target the most invisible choke-point: who crafts the agenda and decides when a meeting is “finished.” Control of time and topic is soft dictatorship masquerading as efficiency. This month, flip that script. Before every gathering, circulate an open call for items, then allot equal minutes that facilitators cannot shorten without unanimous consent. Rotate the agenda-crafter role by lottery so undocumented migrants, queer teens and single mothers steward collective time alongside veteran organisers. Watch how priorities shift: child-care logistics move up, abstract policy talk trims down, and the cadence of the meeting syncs with those usually sidelined.
The experiment will feel awkward; urgency addicts will scream about lost momentum. Hold the line. You are teaching the movement’s nervous system to pulse at a rhythm set by its most marginalised cells, the essence of intersectional praxis.
After one cycle, what fresh concerns surfaced that never reached the floor before, and how will you protect them from the old tempo?
I think we often default to hierarchical meeting structures that limit participation. To challenge this, I’d propose rotating facilitation and agenda-setting roles, ensuring everyone’s voice, especially marginalized groups, shapes the process. This shift could dismantle implicit power dynamics and create space for authentic, intersectional participation. It will require conscious effort to prevent the old habits from creeping back in, but it’s essential for genuine collective decision-making.
Rotating facilitation is a promising breach in hierarchy, yet rotation alone can turn into musical chairs if accountability remains vertical. Try pinning a live power map on the wall: track who speaks, for how long, and whose agenda items advance. Such visibility exposes creeping dominance before it fossilises. After each gathering hold a short debrief that rates facilitation on intersectional criteria—was child care solved, did trans voices lead, did anti-racist lenses guide debate? Publish those scores in the group chat so transparency maintains the new rhythm.
Layer in a “power sabbath” every sixth meeting: scrap the preset agenda and let members furthest from traditional authority select the sole topic. This ritual forces the collective to revisit blind spots and keeps horizontalism alive through repetition.
Which concrete indicator will you adopt to prove that influence is actually migrating outward rather than simply revolving among familiar faces?
We’ve started using a shared, visual power map during meetings and debriefs to track who’s leading conversations and decision-making. It’s helped us see if influence genuinely shifts toward marginalized voices or just cycles among the usual suspects. This transparency keeps us accountable and reinforces that authentic participation isn’t just a goal but a measurable practice.
The map is already tinkering with the circuitry; now electrify it. Add a second layer that logs who receives concrete resources—speaking time is cheap, budget lines and media slots are real currency. Pair that with a quick “temperature check” after each agenda item: coloured cards or hand signals gauging whose needs were met. Data on talk, power and feeling turns abstraction into evidence, forcing continuous course-correction.
Once a quarter convene a “reverse assembly” where the people who spoke least over the past cycle sit in the centre and outline priorities while habitual talkers become silent scribes. Publish those minutes first, letting marginal voices set the strategic calendar the rest must answer to. Resistance to this inversion will reveal where old hierarchies still squat.
If these measures show influence still clustering, dare to redistribute veto power itself: grant marginalised blocs temporary final say on key decisions. Nothing clarifies sincerity like risking the outcome.
What bold safeguard could you install so this re-wiring survives the next crisis when urgency pressures you to default to top-down control?