Six campaigners who have dedicated decades fighting for what they believe in, or started later in life, tell Michael Segalov their remarkable stories of courage and perseverance
. I read it as a teenager, it still sticks with me. In moments of doubt, it’s what I remind myself – the possibility of change comes out of the darkness.Lisa Power, 68, CardiffPhotograph: Francesca Jones/The Observer
Early instances stick out – going to a meeting about apartheid, and watching nasty National Front goons make chimpanzee noises. I had a loving childhood, so it was only in early adulthood that I appreciated how poorly I’d be treated simply for liking other girls. I ended up back in the closet for a while. Luckily, I came back out fairly quickly. At first, all this just confused me. But as I grew older, that turned into anger.
I’ve learned some lessons along the way. The moment you think you’re indispensable, you do more harm than good. Communities are stronger together – we can’t be divided. Any excuse, and the rights we’ve fought for will be taken away. And, resist co-option or getting too comfortable. I look around – even to some of my fellow
I met George, my late husband, in 1980. Politically, we were on the same page. Having a shared worldview was important for me. We were together in the things that mattered most, including this – it’s wrong to bring children into this world, but not try to make it better for them. So that’s what I’ve done for my children, grandchildren, and now great-granddaughter too.
It was just as underhanded then, too. I worked in construction in my early 20s. It was the wild west, so I got involved in our trade union. When a pay increase had been agreed, but our bosses refused to pay, we were only 20 or so workers, but we went out on strike. In the end, we got what we were owed. It was early proof to me of the power of organising. But in retribution, I was put on a black list meaning no employer would take me on once that job was over.