Taking a break from party politics

Standing as a candidate in 2013 was a great experience and I’m very grateful to the people who voted for and campaigned for me. But party politics is a tiring business. It takes people who would otherwise agree on most issues, gives them separate factions to join, and pits those factions against each other in a sometimes bitter process. I’ve been as guilty of engaging in this as anyone else. I encountered one Labour candidate who objectively speaking is the sort of person I very much respect and admire, but their position as a Labour candidate makes me their electoral foe by default. It’s not a very nice position, and it’s rather mentally exhausting. 

Internal party politics is just as tiring. It can feel cool to be In The Loop sometimes, knowing who’s who in the Green Party, knowing internal debates and going to national conferences. But it also becomes difficult to get away from that and get back to the real world, where GPex and the Brighton and Hove administration aren’t everyday concerns...though they are important.

Sometimes electoral politics is fun; sometimes it isn't.

For those reasons, I’m taking a break from internal and external party politics for a while – probably just the summer. Party politics still permeates our national discourse so it’s impossible to get away from it; but I think it might help my mindset to stop thinking in partisan terms for a while. It would probably also help my mental health which hasn't been in the best state this year.

So…see you soon.
 

Being an activist with autism

I’ve sometimes thought it would be worth sitting down and writing about my experiences with autism and asperger’s syndrome. But it’s very hard. After all, what can I say about something that I’ve experienced every day of my life? The question “what’s it like having asperger’s” is a strange one. It’s normal.

But there are already many blogs/articles/books out there from people with autism about what it’s like to live with it. So let me give a different perspective; what it has been like to live with Asperger’s syndrome as a political activist.

First off, it can lead to certain political obsessions. Anybody who knows me well will know that I spent a year campaigning for electoral reform and the alternative vote (AV). And I did believe in it. But my constant work on it also derived from part of my Asperger’s, which can lead me to focus on a single thing. More recently my friends probably noticed the same thing happening with Doctor Who and Firefly. It’s an aspergery thing.

Secondly, I can get anxious at protests or demonstrations and will always be on the look for a way out (no matter how benign the situation). This has become less of a problem recently, but I still tend to want to find friends at a protest to make me feel safer.

Thirdly, door-knocking is not a simple task. Once I’m into the routine of canvassing for an election or for an issue, things tend to be fine unless I get a particular reaction that knocks my confidence and I have to stop, either for a break or completely for that day. But I need to have a clear routine and script beforehand, otherwise I panic. And, usually (unless it’s in an area I know well and on a subject/for a candidate I know a lot about) I can’t do canvassing for extended periods of time or I start to get anxious.

Fourthly (and this can be seen as a positive!) I tend to be up for going to most protests or activism stuff that’s on, partly to gain new experiences. This seems to have gotten me a reputation of being an angry young man who goes to lots of protests… 

It hasn’t made activism impossible. In fact, I would say it helps make me an activist. Wanting to overcome my asperger’s makes me want to gain new experiences, go new places and meet new people. Political activism is the best possible way to do that, especially for someone who wants to fight injustice. 

And it has changed me. Politically and personally. My first activist meeting was in 2010, at a London Young Greens meeting where I found the idea of a CND protest about nuclear power incredibly radical. On Monday, though, I was outside Aldermaston with CND.

I’m not sure what else I could add to this, other than to ask that when people with autism come into activism, you should remember that we’re just as passionate and dedicated as anyone else. I have certain boundaries though, and other autistic activists have their own boundaries and needs and they should be respected. I’ve heard plenty of stories of insensitivity to mental disabilities in activist circles; people shouting at each other in meetings despite being told that excessive noise is stressful for autistic people, for example. Occasionally I’ve felt uncomfortable within organisations but haven’t felt confident enough to speak up about them and have had to stop going to meetings just to take time out. We should always consider the impact of our behaviour on other people, and that includes the impact on those without visible disabilities. 

In the end, I think being an autistic activist has made me more aware of my disability because it has pushed my boundaries outward. For me, that’s been a good thing because I wanted to do that. But, partly because I’ve encountered so many wonderful people who talk about liberation movements and because I’ve read so many eloquent views from other disabled people, I finally feel comfortable self-identifying as disabled. And I feel confident enough to identify and combat disablism, something which has been accentuated by the atrocious way that my university behaved towards me when it tried to discipline me for protesting.

To conclude – I am disabled. I am autistic. And I am an activist. I can be all three, but sometimes it’s difficult, and I hope people can appreciate that.

Speech to Coalition of Resistance public meeting at UEA

Well.

Hello everyone.

I’m sorry, it’s a little overwhelming. I mean, you’ve got these brilliant, inspiring people, and then, well, there’s me.

A skinny Politics student from Barnet.

But I suppose it’s important to step back and remember that government austerity isn’t just about facts, and figures – it’s about real people, and real stories.

So I thought I’d give you a story. 

I was born in 1994, in a run-down old hospital in Islington, in London. For those of you who experienced hospitals in the 1990s, you may have an image in your head and it would be the right one. Broken roofs, buckets to catch the leaks. 

And then, 17 years later, my dad went back to that hospital.

It’s a completely different place.

It’s clean, for one thing.

And it’s state of the art.

Now, I may not be a member of the Labour Party.

And I’m certainly not Tony Blair’s greatest fan.

But I will say this.

Job well done.

And I say well done, not because by investing in the NHS a politician is pursuing Labour values, but because by investing in the NHS a given politician is pursuing values that all of us – well, most of us - share.

A belief that the basic necessities of life – food, clothing, shelter, healthcare – should not be a struggle to attain.

And I make no apology for saying that those are socialist values.

Now I very much doubt that anyone in this room believes that austerity is necessary.

The question is ‘what do we do about’. And of course, that’s the reason we’re all going to this conference!

So I think I’d just offer some thoughts on what we need to do to turn back this tide of austerity. 

Looking at anti-cuts struggles in Europe and indeed in this country, it’s very easy to get disheartened.

We’ve seen strikes, we’ve seen mass protest, we’ve seen occupations and yet all that seems to happen is that conservative governments and conservative politicians continue to push through radical right wing policies in the face of opposition from ordinary people.

What can we do against that sort of determination?

I’ve seen some people promote petitioning the government to change its mind.

I don’t think that the anti-cuts struggle involves petitions, because this government is not going to change its mind without a fight.

It involves resistance. 

It involves local councillors of all parties refusing to vote through savage cuts by proxy.

It involves co-ordinated strike action.

And it involves civil disobedience and mass protest.

But, most importantly, it involves all of these things.

One tactic in isolation – an individual councillor voting No to cuts, an individual union striking against pay cuts – will not achieve the sort of change that we are all looking for.

And although it might succeed in stopping a few cuts, it won’t stop the government from pursuing its ideological vision of shrinking the state.

Because we need an anti-cuts movement that doesn’t just challenge the cuts, but challenges the very basis on which those cuts are founded.

The idea that ordinary people should be made to suffer because the financial markets and the politicians screwed up.

I’m one of the first year of students to face £9,000 tuition fees.

I want that debt gone, and I want my education to be free.

But if the government was to abolish tuition fees tomorrow but pay for it by cutting tax credits and welfare payments, I wouldn’t accept it.

Because, ultimately, we can debate tactics and arguments but the most fundamental thing we can do is fight together.

Because every single one of us is affected by these cuts.

The pensioner who can’t heat their home.

The teacher whose pay has been frozen.

And the student who struggles through university on a shrinking student loan and with higher and higher debt.

We need to fight for all of those people.

If we don’t, we won’t change anything.

And all of those people need to fight together.

Because the one thing governments fear isn’t local election results, or opinion polls, or vigils – their greatest fear is that ordinary people stand up and refuse to accept a radical right wing agenda.

So. 

That’s what I think. 

I don’t think this is a time for debating with Conservative MPs, or writing polite letters.

In the words of Joss Wheedon -

No more running.

I aim to misbehave.

Thank you.

Losing a union election

Well, the first thing to say is congratulations to Seb, Ella, Freddie and Joe. All four of them will make great union officers.

I’m obviously saddened not to be elected. It was always going to be difficult as a first year who knows fewer people, and who’s new to the ups and downs of student politics.

But you know, I’m reminded of another time when I failed to get elected to something.

It was two years ago now, during my local youth parliament elections. I’d fought hard to get elected, leafleted people outside schools, pounded the streets and talked to all my friends across the borough.

I lost by 70 votes.

Out of 2,000.

And I was gutted. Really was. The person sitting next to me, who was elected, said she thought I should have won.

But I don’t think that now.

Because losing that election taught me a lesson.

It taught me that change is not something that only comes through elections, and it doesn’t come through the election of one government, or one politician.

Because even when good people are elected, they are expressions of something wider, something greater.

Change comes through the collective efforts of ordinary people. 

The Berlin Wall didn’t fall because Reagan shouted at Gorbachev.

Apartheid didn’t end because Wilem de Klerk was elected in South Africa.

And we definitely didn’t get women’s suffrage because 42 Labour MPs were elected in 1918.

Those things may have helped.

They definitely didn’t hurt.

But the Berlin Wall fell because ordinary people would not tolerate such a symbol of division and intolerance.

Apartheid fell because millions of people stood up and said ‘no’ to such a blatant exercise of discrimination and unfairness.

And women got the vote because determined individuals sacrificed their health, their freedom and – for some – their lives for the simple principle that everyone should have a voice in the government of their country.

So while I’m disappointed not to be a union officer, I fully believe that whatever I could have accomplished as an officer, it is nothing compared to what we can do together.

And, you know, that may sound like a cliché, or rhetoric – but it isn’t.

It is what I genuinely believe and it drives me in everything I do.

So. 

Something ended tonight.

The “Elliot for Union Officer” campaign is over. 

But the campaign for social and environmental justice in this world never ends.

And that campaign is never about one person or one party, it’s about each and every one of us.

Because each and every one of us has a part to play.

And I look forward to playing my part.

My speech at Green conference on motion C21

Motion C21 at Green Party conference introduced a new section into the philosophical basis committing the Greens to opposing the destructive current economic system and supporting social justice and equality. I made the second speech in favour, which is contained below. After a show of hands, a recount and a card vote, it passed with a two-thirds majority. 

Good morning, conference. 

Elliot Folan, Norwich Green Party, and this is my first time speaking at conference.

I’ve always felt that I wanted to make my first speech at conference a good one. And I can’t think of a better motion to begin on. I think it’s brilliantly expressed and is absolutely necessary.

I should start by saying that I am proud to call myself an environmentalist. I think the greatest challenge that we face is that of preventing the destruction of our planet, of combating pollution and - well, saving our world.

But that concern for nature isn’t why I joined the Green Party.

I joined the Green Party because we believe in creating a million jobs through state intervention. I joined the Green Party because we believe in tackling inequality and making the rich pay their fair share.

But more than anything, I joined the Green Party because it’s the only party that is on my side. Not just as a young person or a student, but as an autistic young person who is indebted to our National Health Service and I’m proud to be in a party that defends that.

So that’s the sort of Britain we want to build. And you know, we can have debates about specific wording, about where this should go in the philosophical basis or even about whether we want in the philosophical basis. And our conference is very good at that.

But ultimately, this is something that we can all believe in, and that’s good enough for me.

And that’s why I’m voting Yes.