GRASS ROOTS

Sign up or sign out

By Noah Bruce

It ain’t easy being an activist in these apathetic times. That was the moral of the story on June 8, when I tagged along with Ethan Miller and Tennessee Watson, as the two volunteers from the Maine Global Action Network (MeGAN) went business to business trying to raise awareness about the potential dangers associated with the Free Trade Area of the Americas (FTAA). If passed, the FTAA will expand NAFTA to South America and will encourage the privatization of education and healthcare, allow companies to sue countries for posing an “unfair barrier to trade,” and generally empower the corporate powers that be.

Specifically, Miller and Watson hit the streets to get businesses to sign a document stating they were against President Bush’s proposed Fast Track Trade Promotion Authority, which would help rush the FTAA through Congress by limiting debate and disallowing amendments to the treaty. The plan was to hand over the letters to Representative Tom Allen to persuade him to vote ‘no’ on Fast Track.

We started the morning by getting crapped on by a seagull. An inauspicious beginning, you might say.

As we walked around the Old Port without particular direction, it quickly became apparent that, like most folks (except Jehovah’s Witnesses) who go door-to-door trying to sell a product or an idea, Miller and Watson were a little nervous. “It would be good to start off with a business that is likely to be friendly,” said Miller.

So we went to Maine Outright, the gay-rights advocacy group, which, while not a business, was an organization likely to be supportive. Unfortunately, the Outright guy, Jonathan Lee, was in a meeting, though he said he would be interested if we came back later.

I suggested the Portland Green Grocer — a likely ally. When Miller and Watson encountered the owner behind the deli, he didn’t seem very simpatico. “I can’t talk to you guys now. It’s Friday retail! Didn’t you see the no soliciting sign?” he said as we beat a hasty retreat.

Our next encounter was far more encouraging. Walking down Fore, three young women, friendly yet scraggly — they looked like they had spent the night in a tent — approached. “Do you know Jeremy Almashot?” one asked. “We’re trying to find him and asking random people,” another explained

We did not know this Jeremy Almashot, but that did not stop the women from listening attentively to Miller and Watson’s rap on Free Trade, or from taking some literature on the subject.

A string of minor victories followed. The good folks behind the counters at Condom Sense, Granny’s Burritos, and Books Etc., agreed to take the literature and give it to their bosses. Did they do as promised? Miller and Watson will probably never know, but plant a seed and . . .

The salesperson at Emerson Books informed Miller and Watson that they were very busy and had no time to listen to the details of an underreported treaty which could alter the power structure on their planet.

There were two customers contentedly browsing the shelves.

“People in this country don’t like hearing about crucial issues. They prefer oblivion,” commented Miller.

The last stop for me (Miller and Watson carried on), was Little Lad’s Bakery, an underground (literally and figuratively) vegan establishment. The proprietor of the bakery slowly spread spread on a sandwich as Watson explained about the undemocratic nature of Fast Track. When she finished, there was a pause, a sort of what-next moment.

Watson put the literature on the counter. “Here is a letter,” she said, “and if you’re in solidarity you can sign it.”

“What does that mean?” he said.

“It means you support us, you agree,” said Watson.

“The word solidarity comes from the union movement,” added Miller.

“Did you know the union movement advocates coercion and violence?” asked the proprietor.

“I don’t think the union advocates that now,” said Miller.

“When I lived in New York, the union movement threw rocks through my window and threatened my life,” he said.

Miller and Watson managed to convince the man they did not advocate coercion or violence and were almost out the door when the man asked, “What is Canola Oil?”

“It’s oil,” said Watson.

“What’s it made from?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s corn oil made from?”

“Corn.”

“Sesame oil?”

“Sesame.”

“How ’bout Canola Oil?”

“I don’t know,” said Watson.

“It comes from grape seeds” he explained. “It’s made by Canadian Oil and they paid the FDA $50 million to allow it.”

He told us it causes brain damage and maybe even Mad Cow Disease.

I don’t know if he ended up signing Miller and Watson’s letter. I had to leave. But you won’t find any Canola Oil in my pantry.