By Laura Gottesdiener,
TomDispatch | News Analysis Thursday, 23 January 2014
Growing up in a well-heeled suburban community, I absorbed our society’s
distaste for dissent long before I was old enough to grasp just what
was being dismissed. My understanding of so many people and concepts was
tainted by this environment and the education that went with it: Che
Guevara and the Black Panthers and Oscar Wilde and Noam Chomsky and
Venezuela and Malcolm X and the Service Employees International Union
and so, so many more. All of this is why, until recently, I knew almost
nothing about the Mexican Zapatista movement except that the excessive
number of “a”s looked vaguely suspicious to me. It’s also why I felt
compelled to travel thousands of miles to a Zapatista “organizing
school” in the heart of the Lacandon jungle in southeastern Mexico to
try to sort out just what I’d been missing all these years.
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