Field Notes from Venetian Activism

I have been delighted to get to know people campaigning for a more livable future after only just a few months in Venice. Indeed, "livable" is the theme behind every single activism effort I've witnessed so far. Students are clamoring for affordable housing and devoted study spaces. Residents are divided over whether entry-tickets to Venice will actually help ease mass tourism (between my friends, we think it won't). And climate action – the big one – demands that we work now to avoid present and future suffering. I wholeheartedly join my voice with others through nonviolent action.

First, a comparative look. Italy has a long history of student activism, and most universities have at least one "collettivo" devoted to open discussion among student members. The burden of leadership seems to be shared: one person may organize more than others, but it is generally assumed that any long-time member can step into a driving role. I am instantly struck by how this model differs from my experience in the US. The university groups I belonged to were always quite structured: clear leadership, top-down organizing. The "assemblea" format has no equivalent on the student level, as far as I know, though it reminds me of both municipal town-hall assemblies and listening circles led by Indigenous groups.

Second, a set of stories. The most hard-fought campaign among the collettivo that I found myself in is for livable student spaces: libraries, classrooms, dining halls, and housing most of all are inadequate for the number of Ca' Foscari students needing vital university services. One afternoon, around twenty of us took large banners spray-painted with messages ("Facciamoci spazio!") to all the abandoned or inaccessible university spaces. A walled garden area with a locked door. A former student dormitory, now boarded up and left in ruins. An occupied classroom that the university was threatening to give back to its former private owners.

Two days later, for the coup de grace of this campaign, we set up tables and benches in the courtyard of the main building and invited our friends over to study. And then we gathered for an aperitivo, and then we ate dinner, and then we set up tents and slept on the stone courtyard. We were protesting the lack of student spaces, but in the process we somehow reclaimed and refashioned a pulsing common area in the most austere part of campus. The music and dancing lasted until 2 AM. 

More recently, I helped hand out flyers about a march against entry tickets to Venice. Going up to people passing through the campo is an exercise in confidence. Without the collective nature of this activism process, I don't think I could have been so bold. I'm trained to be skeptical (thanks, Descartes) from years of immersion in academic thought, and alone I might've talked myself into a zone of ambiguity on the issue. But being on a team clarifies my belief: actually yes, that's right, tickets do turn Venice into Disneyland or a National Park. And what will this really mean for residents? I doubt any tangible economic benefits will be seen for the average citizen, despite the promises being made. We listen to each other and critique ourselves.

Morton and Boyer's book Hyposubjects neatly captures the ethic of the collettivo, one that I think is a strong working draft (among many) for modes of living (per Anna Tsing) on a damaged, becoming-unlivable planet. They write that, in contrast to the white male hypersubject, "Hyposubjects are the native species of the Anthropocene and only just now beginning to discover what they may be and become... [they] are necessarily feminist, antiracist, colorful, queer, ecological, transhuman and intrahuman...  [they] are squatters and bricoleuses. They inhabit the cracks and hollows. They turn things inside out and work with scraps and remains. They unplug from carbon gridlife and hack and redistribute its stored energies for their own purposes." (p. 15) Put in such terms, it's almost irresistible to follow along. It's a recipe that is very clear about what it's doing. I'm proud to know such activists and participate in this work.