User Submitted Blog Post: Do Our Clothes Matter?

<p>I arrived in Japan a little over a week ago, and am finally getting used to the time and geographic differences. I am here for the next few weeks to participate in discussions, conferences and actions leading up to the anti-G8 protests as the previous blog describes.<br /><br />I am here with a small affinity group, most of whom are from the Bay Area of the US. Our first week was been spent in Osaka, the second largest city in Japan that was once a very important industrial center. The people of Osaka, like so many people in cities around the world, are in a battle over the use of space, public space in particular. My next pieces will deal with the question of public space and the rise of precarious work in Japan. For now, I am going to reflect on a much simpler and maybe unimportant topic, that of the composition of people organizing global direct action protests.<br /><br />Perhaps this is going to seem like a little rant, or a fluff piece, but I am both concerned and perplexed at the choice presentation of many people participating in the planning of direct actions against neoliberal organizations and institutions around the globe. While there is a familiarity upon entering a convergence space, as a friend I am traveling with observed, &ldquo;ah, the familiar smell of sweat and torn black clothes&rdquo;, I am also disturbed by this familiarity. Yes, this is something that has been discussed, debated and written about quite a bit, but for me arriving now in Tokyo where some of the basis for the organizing is taking place, it brings up the question once again. I am not addressing here the composition or presentation of the local organizers; this is only about many of the internationals who have arrived to support the local organizing. <br /><br />Since I have been in Japan I have been corresponding a great deal with a Canadian who I met in Cuba. He is a wonderful person, who is totally open and agrees of course that we need to change the world. I found myself a little stuck in describing what the convergence center looked like. It felt condescending to write that people covered in piercings and tattoos, with tattered and torn black fitted clothes were dressing that way so as to distinguish themselves (ourselves?) from the values of the society we live in. It felt like I was describing rebellious teenagers. But how else does one describe the choice to dress in a way that is so different from those around you, and in a way that you know will alienate you from countless people. I am not making a judgment here on how one should dress, not at all, but I do think that the way we appear has an effect on how we relate to those around us, and even more, how they relate to us. Should people judge one another? No, of course not. Do we? Well, yes, we do. First impressions are based a great deal on how someone appears, dresses and moves. So then how does one who wants to be taken seriously and share a vision of another way to be in the world with one another make choices? &hellip; Yes, I fear I am ranting. I apologize. I guess the point of this is that I feel even more strongly here in Japan, a society that generally takes neatness and orderliness seriously, that we should think more carefully about how we appear to others. Are we opening space for more conversations and dialogue? Will people take us less seriously or more seriously? I would not suggest formal attire, but I guess I would suggest thinking harder about how we try and open space for conversations, for listening and hearing one another. I believe this to be especially true in a place in which we are guests. Unfortunately, how we dress matters. <br /><br /></p>