During the 1960s, my mother was a closet Liberal, whispering to everyone not to tell her parents that she wasn’t going to vote for Goldwater. In the 70s, she would walk between the color lines proudly in support of school busing, (never minding what a target that made me each day). During the 80s her rebellious lifestyle necessitated that she live at least one foot off the grid, avoiding taxes and politics as best she could, surviving just under the radar. And in the 90s she would go on marches for PETA and abortion rights and environmentalism and the screenwriters’ union. I still have her tattered old hemp-woven grocery bag, some faded cause printed in green on one side. Continue reading →