Debbie Carlsen is cracking up while telling about the time she decorated Waiting for the Interurban with dyke signs reading "Fuck the patriarchy," "Working-class chicks rock," and "I'd rather be fisting," when a "Ride the Ducks" amphibious vehicle full of tourists roared up and the tour guide attempted to explain what was going on. When she laughs, which she does frequently, she crinkles up her nose and looks right at you in a way that invites you to join right in. After all, as Carlsen always stresses, "We want this to be fun."
How did a tall, auburn-haired, nice Catholic girl born 30 years ago in Auburn end up as a founder of Dyke Action and Queers Against the WTO? By going to Bellingham's alternative Fairhaven College, hanging around the women's center, connecting with other women, starting at 18 to finally feel OK about being female, being scared but still going out on her first Take Back the Night march, being thrilled at the power of the movement against the Gulf War, getting depressed watching that same movement dissipate, moving to Capitol Hill, teaching ESL at Renton Technical College, and during the 1998 campaign against the anti-affirmative action Initiative 200 realizing, "I wanted to work with queer women but not necessarily just deal with queer issues."
Alice Wheeler
DAN's attempt to shut down Microsoft featured one arrest, a Gates puppet, and almost more cops and media than protesters. Nevertheless, it signaled a shift in how local "actions" are done post-WTO.
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So in July 1998, Carlsen and others formed Dyke Action, a loose-knit group of between 15 and 20 queer women in their 20s and 30s who do direct action and community education: not just lesbians, but queers—bisexual, transgendered, fagdykes, whatever.
Carlsen's passion is to reach out from the safe space of a queer women's group. She wants to "take the opportunities to meet other activists outside my little queer circle, hopefully enrich their point of view and mine too. I don't see any other way. Otherwise we just end up fragmented."
Carlsen understands why separatism was so important for women and lesbians in the 1970s. "It was needed. It was a growing period for us as a culture." Now, "people should have safe spaces but be able to work with other people too. The real challenge is to go to people who aren't like you and start educating, and being educated, and seeing how issues are connected."
During the preparation for the WTO protests, Carlsen noted, "There was not a very large queer presence." In coalition with Outfront Labor, a queer union group, and Dyke Community Activists, a group of women in their 40s and 50s, Dyke Action formed Queers Against the WTO and held a conference which drew 60 people. On November 30, Dyke Action marched with a big banner and a rainbow flag. "It was exciting to be visible and see people's reactions," Carlsen says. Even if more conservative members of the protest were taken aback, Carlsen says there was the sense from everyone, "Well, at least you are on our side."
Dyke Action's projects also focus on the queer women's community. They have sponsored a Queer Women's Discussion Series, an alternative to the bars, delving into topics like "Butch/Femme," and "The Generation Gap," which drew four generations of queer women.
Dyke Action also puts out a publication called PUSH (next issue due out "any time"). For this non-dyke reader, PUSH is like sitting in a Capitol Hill coffee shop and overhearing a very interesting but somewhat bewildering conversation. PUSH's first issue, "Sister Plural," explores a host of identities inside the queer women's community itself: A transsexual describes being excluded from a women's conference and not showing her own lover her penis despite a two-year relationship; a Jewish dyke roots around in her life probing class and ethnicity; a butch talks about growing out her beard, being tough, and suddenly realizing, "Curses, gendered again!"
The voices in PUSH do not harmonize; in fact, the effect is more of a dissonant roar. And Debbie Carlsen wouldn't have it any other way. "We are not just queer, we're a lot of things. You have to be comfortable with several belief systems and not be threatened by somebody who doesn't believe the same as you." At the same time, Carlsen recognizes, "Racism, sexism, classism—these are people's beliefs, and you have to challenge them."
Talking with Carlsen, one has the sense she can pull off this difficult balancing act with humor. While she playfully alludes to her "angry period," currently she seems very much at peace. Her efforts, along with those of Dyke Action, to change the world will continue, but at a pace which is sustainable. Whether their efforts at coalition-building will prove effective is another question.
YET ULTIMATELY, the success of the post-WTO movement will depend on a large number of people coming together around a common goal again. The history of the Seattle left over the last 30 years does not give much cause for optimism. But who would have predicted the civil rights movement, the resistance to the Vietnam war, or the peaceful fall of the Berlin wall? Revolutionary change by its nature shatters paradigms, shakes up history, and turns everything on its head.
Who can say what's just around the corner?
