Fucking Cancelled Goes on Tour

We were on tour for the month of April! We took our little dog Clover and hit the road, holding events in Detroit, Chicago, St. Louis, Tulsa, Phoenix, Tucson, San Diego, LA, San Francisco, Portland, Seattle, and Vancouver, Canada. It was an entirely independent tour, organized with the help of fans who helped us find venues and gave us places to crash. We held events in a bar, a sci fi theatre, a harm reduction centre, the head quarters of the Secular Humanists of Greater Phoenix, in a punk house basement, in someone’s living room, in a yoga studio, in a secret hip LA venue, in a couple music venues, in a church, and at a university. 

Our events were different depending on the city and we tried out a variety of styles. Some were smaller more intimate community discussions where we talked with the locals about their experiences with cancel culture. Some were based off the AA style share of sharing our ‘experience, strength, and hope: what it was like, what happened, and what it’s like now.’ Some were more educational breakdowns of what cancel culture is, why we oppose it as leftists, what identitarianism is, and why we oppose it as leftists. 

We collabed with a lot of other thinkers and writers on the tour including Dr. Christine Marie, Britton Morgan, Sarah Shulman, Matt Christman, Rose Crespo, Olivia Gatwood, Roger Peet, Bebe Montoya, Kier Adrian Gray, Aliko Weste, Bex Lipps, Carmen Aguirre, Sarah Blackmore, Thomas Kemple, and Tara McGowan-Ross. We were also joined by musical guests Ariel View, Tunnel, Open Mike Eagle, Alexia Roditis of Destroy Boys, and Maya Elise. 

We met hundreds of people and had so many important conversations. We met cancelled people and heard their stories: the trauma, the misrepresentation, the exile, the dehumanization, the never ending harassment. We met people who live in fear of being cancelled and are sick of it. We met artists who are terrified to do their work. We met leftists who are fucking tired of there not being a left to speak of, who are tired of watching our attempts at organizing go up in flames. We met abolitionists and harm reduction workers who are tired of watching their movements, which should be based in compassion and humanity for all, be taken over by puritanical cancellers. We had deep conversations about abuse prevention and intervention, about providing real tangible support for survivors, and actually interrupting the cycle of violence. We felt the electric energy in the room as we talked about what it would be like to build a left for all working people based in solidarity across difference, where we seek common ground and practice tolerance, humility, and grace. We felt the congealed fear and shame and stress of cancel culture fall away as people said and heard these things in person, face to face. 

We received so many kind words. My trunk is full of gifts: zines and letters and cards. So many people shook our hands, wiped away tears, talked about what this work means to them, what it has made possible in their lives. Several people told us that it saved their lives. People offered us their guest rooms and their bedrooms and their food and their words of encouragement. They took Clover for walks. They discreetly handed us hundreds of dollars cash, thanking us for this work and telling us to keep going. 

We were fucking exhausted from a month on the road, driving nonstop and doing event after event. We did our best to bring our whole hearts and minds to these big and deep conversations. We showed up with all we had even when the burn out was absolutely insane. 

In Portland, our third to last event, we sold more tickets than any other city. Like all the other events we were there late talking to fans, selling merch, having big conversations. We headed back to the car which I had parked blocks from the venue out of fear that some Portland canceller would try to fuck with it. When we returned to my car we found the tires slashed and liquid shit pour all over the windshield and in the air vent. 

We were already exhausted and burnt out beyond belief and we needed to be in Seattle the next day for our Seattle event. I was absolutely triggered because I’m a domestic violence survivor and it’s not the first time someone has tried to terrify me and humiliate me by breaking my stuff and rubbing shit on my things. Thankfully, our Portland friends took over the situation. Made a plan. Called a tow truck. Went and got rice and lentils and snacks and bubbly water and NA beers and we sat on the sidewalk for an hour and a half waiting for the tow truck. Then we got the car moved to a tire shop, and we went back to theirs and slept. In the morning we got the tires changed and the car washed and were on our way to Seattle.

I think about the many Portland locals who came to our event and shared their gratitude and solidarity and deep desire for these conversations, who shook our hands and thanked us for coming to Portland. I think about the strangers I’ve never met who decided we should be punished for doing this work, driving around with a container of shit, stalking us, trying to find my car which they found a picture of on Instagram, confirming it had Quebec plates, slashing the tires, pouring the shit, and running off scared but feeling like they did something political. I think about me and Jay and our friends, shaken and exhausted, but surrounded by love and solidarity, eating rice and lentils on the sidewalk, laughing and being together despite the violent and cowardly attempt at intimidation. 

I know where I would rather be. In my story there are no monsters or bad guys, just people who make choices based on their life circumstances and what they are capable of at the time. I would rather be on the side of all of us, in all our messy humanity, trying to figure it out, than looking for scapegoats to punish. I feel sorry for the couple of people who were out in the street with a bottle of shit when they could have joined us in trying to find a way forward and out of this mess we are in. I feel sorry for them because they think stalking a domestic violence survivor and slashing her tires is political work. I feel sorry for them because they think attempting to silence and intimidate leftists they don’t agree with is political work. I feel sorry for them because they are so our of touch with what meaningful political work could be that they are out here convincing themselves they’re fighting bad guys when they are just being violent assholes to another human being.

The tour went on. Seattle and Vancouver both went super well. We had more important conversations, met and collabed with more cool people. We started a gofundme to cover the cost of the tow truck and tires and our community and supporters doubled what we asked for in a day. We swam in the ocean and ate sushi with our friends. Portland ‘anarchists’ are mocking us on twitter. We are working to build a left in which effective organizing is actually possible. We are working to build a culture of solidarity and compassion, community and kindness, where it is always better to be eating rice and lentils with your friends than carrying out attacks against people you don’t even know. 

Thank you from the bottom of my heart to every single one of you who came out for this tour or supported us from afar. Let’s go. We have work to do.