There’s been a lot of discussion on social media over the past year about reviving wimmin’s land. Many women are proposing establishing all-woman living collectives in rural areas, a phenomenon that began in the 1970s and faded somewhat by the turn of the century (though some women’s communities are still around). For women dreaming about this alternative, I wanted to share some of my experience.
I lived on Adobeland, a now-defunct women’s community in southern Arizona, from 1989-1990 and again from 1993-1996. I also visited wimmin’s lands in California and New Mexico during the 1980s and 1990s. Last year I had the opportunity to meet with alumni of A Women’s Place, another defunct women’s community in upstate New York, and learn about their experiences.
Many women dreaming of wimmin’s land are inspired by their experiences at the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival. Michfest was an important part of women’s culture and in my memory (I only attended once) a heady experience. Living on wimmin’s land, however, is more ordinary and more difficult than a conference or festival. It’s a lot of work, both physical work and relational work. It’s a lot of hardship, too, both physical hardship and the hardship that comes from the lifestyle.
Many women come to wimmin’s land and decide on their third day (or thereabouts) that they are going to live on “the land” for the rest of their lives. They quit jobs, burn bridges and take on commitments to the collective that they cannot follow through on. Reality sets in, and in another six weeks these women are gone, never returning to wimmin’s land again.
The good news is that your women’s group can basically set the rules and parameters that you want. Every women’s community has its unique culture, structure, and set of problems. Some communities have time and work commitments; others are more organic. Some communities are all lesbian, others allow women of all sexual orientations. Some allow male children; others do not. You don’t have to be “inclusive” of everyone. That’s a value appropriated by men from feminist collectives striving for diversity of class, ability, and ethnic representation. Men have twisted “inclusivity” into a form of domination. You simply can’t be inclusive of everyone in everything you do. Not even every woman. Wimmin’s land, by it’s nature, is exclusive on many levels, not the least of which is that you usually need to be introduced to the community: it certainly isn’t advertised.
Adobeland, where I lived, allowed straight women to live and visit. We also allowed men on the land for specific purposes, such as towing a disabled car. Male children were allowed to visit. I don’t believe we ever had a woman request to raise her son in that environment. With advance warning, we allowed a woman’s father or brother to visit her structure and meet with some of the women. At that time, there were more flaky religious cults around, Jonestown was a recent memory, and the concern of a woman’s relatives (even the male ones) to understand the place where she was living was reasonable. The point is that you can make the structure fit the needs of your group.
Your women’s community will have conflicts with neighbors, no matter how isolated your location. Disagreements can arise regarding water rights, right-of-way, and local values around nudity, among other things. Conflicts may not be confined to people you are disposed to dislike, such as redneck men, but may involve other women or indigenous communities. And you may find yourself sympathizing, over time, with some perspectives of poor rural men and possibly aligning with them on local political issues. A women’s community is not a ticket out of the wider world. There is no place on earth isolated enough for that.
In retrospect, some members of one women’s community felt that they had needlessly generated conflict through reflexive disregard for the values of the white rural community they settled in. They stressed the importance of active listening and diplomacy from the outset, before ill feelings become established.
Adobeland initially attracted huge attention from law enforcement, due to the secrecy of the community. Women felt, justifiably, that they had no obligation to seek dispensation from male authorities for living collectively, and male authorities assumed the women were establishing an Amazon terrorist satanic brainwashing child-abusing drug cult. Once that issue was disposed of (which escalated to the point of SWAT teams in helicopters), another problem developed. Adobe bought the land in what she thought was a barren corner of the desert, but the population of Tucson exploded over the years and the area became a bedroom community. New arrivals in what was now a suburban development disliked the “commune” as they called it, and initiated a concerted effort to drive the women out. This took the form of complaints to all manner of local authorities: the health department, child protective services, the sheriff, the dog catcher. These bureaucracies have a mandate to investigate all complaints, and complaints were so numerous that eventually the health department established a regular schedule for inspections. Eventually the various petty law enforcement agencies, weary of the bogus demands on their time and resources, assigned women to investigate complaints against the community. This was a victory of sorts, respecting the request of the women of Adobeland that this was women’s land and all harassers should be women.
This article is getting long, so I will continue this subject in a later article. I don’t want to give short shrift to another conflict issue: the conflicts amongst women living on the land.
(To be continued)
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This simply reinforces my belief that men hate women so deeply that anything we do threatens them. Women doing something as simple as meeting at night in circles, privately, make men feel threatened. Even women meeting socially makes men feel threatened. Nothing is as ego-destroying to the human male as the idea that he’s superfluous and that women are happier without him.
I wish there were a whole country, even a whole continent, dedicated to women’s lives.