Luisa Morgantini, trade unionist and activist, tells us in depth of the family and historical reasons behind her choice not to get married and have children, opting instead for an extended family, built through relationships and projects carried out in various conflict zones around the world, standing up for the poor and the unpiviledged, and for all minority groups.
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LUISA MORGANTINI: «Essentially, I did not have time for it, I think, at least. Clearly this is the surface reason, as they say, you’ll find time if you need time. When I was young, I wanted to live on my own, explore life, search for my true self. I was born in a small mountain village, I used to sit down outside my house, and I wanted to tear the mountains apart, because I wanted to look and go beyond. I stubbornly refused to be what my mother wanted me to be: a woman, a girl, who at the age of eighteen should have a boyfriend, get married… It was 1958, it’s different nowadays. I would say, “no, why? I want to do other things, go places, I want to get to know myself better”. Children were not my mind, back then, my rebellion was more about, “I don’t want a boyfriend, I want to fall in love”. Why should I be influenced by my family? Why should I get married?
I was against marriage, a kind of rebellion that was very common in those years. But there was something deeper, which was more about: ‘I have a woman’s body, and a woman’s body is expected to give birth. Why? Why should I be obliged, to have children, just because I am a woman?’ Somehow, I have been battling with nature, I wanted to prove that one can be a woman, one can be a whole being, capable of living and loving children, animals, trees, people, without necessarily be a mother. Maybe deep down I never really desired it, or gave it much thought honestly. Maybe I did not hold on to the thoughts because I was so focussed on actions, on doing and taking actions. When I ran away from home, I became a union representative because back then factory workers were exploited, and needed protection, and we fought for their rights. And then again, this battle against nature. I wanted to be the one in control, not nature.
Then this changed as well, because when I was over 50, I understood that the battle against nature was lost, and I started to live it much more peacefully. Also, I did not have children because my relationships maybe were not so strong to make me desire a future together. After all, my future were my battles, exploring the world, going up the Peruvian mountains with the farmers: that was my idea of my future. So, I really never suffered for it up to now, there’s still time for that maybe in a few years I will understand exactly why I had no children, why I did not build up a traditional family.
After all the world is my family, all the conflict zones where I go to build up new connections.
I think the love you give a child can be shared with other people too, with other children, with many people.
In Peru they used to call me Pacha Mama, and now when I go to Palestine some call me “aisha”, which means “elderly wise woman”. Others still call me “mama”, when really I could be their grandmother. Yes, I think so. Well, I am not sure about sublimation, but certainly I had an extended motherhood, although I am not very keen on… the caring in itself, maybe this also influenced it. I knew that if I had children, I had to devote a great amount of time to them, and clearly I could not choose this kind of nomad life, because a child requires a lot of time, because if I had children I wanted to be there for them. I must say, I was not so concerned about the responsibility to teach things to a child. This was not an issue, not because I have many certainties, but I do have some strong beliefs: for instance that you must not be arrogant, you must not hurt people, although sometimes it’s bound to happen, you must always fight for the oppressed of the world, for the poorer and those who are less educated, for those who…
It’s not being a good-doer or charitable, it’s my life choice.
When I was a trade unionist, for instance, when we were on the negotiation table, my trade union colleagues talked with the experts, whether workers or union representatives, who knew all about contractual and piece work.
When I was the one negotiating, I did talk to them of course, to respect their expertise, but I was much more interested in hearing what the Borletti factory worker had to say, who sat silently at the back. Therefore, I let the experts do the talking, and I went to ask for his opinion. On my part, I always felt this need to keep everybody together.
Certainly my mother did, she thought I had to get married, and have a traditional family, she was really ashamed of myself, because I had no intention of getting married, I lived with my partner, and I did not hide it, because it was a form of rebellion, and somehow it was a way for my self-affirmation. But I must admit that having done so much in my life, I have been involved in so much more, that in the end even my mother felt proud of myself, after all she also was a bit crazy, and rebellious. So, even if she always cried because I was not married and had no children, telling me “look at yourself, you are always so far”.
Deep down, I have not… I did disappoint her, but I have also gained something thanks to the way I moved in the world and all. Instead, as for me, I feel a great pain towards her, I feel terribly guilty, because I was not by her side when she was sick. I was always away, and she complained that there was always something more important. It might be true back then, I thought that family was like a chain I had to break free from. I did not manage to make up for lost time, to rescue this relationship with my mother, who was the only person in my whole life with whom I had to fight all the time. For me the parent figure to rebel against was not my father, but my mother instead.
She was the one who ruled the roost, who wanted to impose her own rules and lifestyle. Mainly, something about my mother might have influenced my choice not to have children. I remember she used to say: “I gave birth to you, therefore you belong to me”. I did not want to belong to anybody, nor did I want anybody to belong to me. I always thought that the most beautiful thing in relationships is being able to love without owning anyone.
When I was young, for a long time, it was a broad current of thought back then, our lifestyle, I didn’t want to own even a single plate, because we had to be totally free from any kind of ownership. I think my mother played a big role, because of what she used to tell me: “you are mine, so you do as I say”. With respect to marriage itself, the general opinion was: you had to be against family, and so I was. I believed that you had to choose your own family, and I chose the world as my family, an extended family, not only in the broader sense, but also friends and other people. Also the relationship between my parents was not great, my mother shouted a lot, I hated people shouting. I did not want to have this kind of relationship, so I might have also been afraid of the challenges in raising children. Maybe, deep down I never desired it so strongly, because usually when I want something I try hard to get it.
Sometimes I feel uncomfortable, I always proudly claimed that not having children was my choice, I was not forced into it, just as I did not get married, not because I am a spinster, but because I chose not to. Anyway, now when some ask me, and they often do, also in Palestine, “How many children do you have?”
When it happens, I feel slightly uneasy, but then I immediately assert my own identity and choice, although at first I feel a bit embarrassed. I’m uncomfortable over there, firstly because they feel these values very strongly, like motherhood and the traditional role of women, so I feel a bit uncomfortable. Here instead, this is my own battle, it is a way to assert myself. I consider myself a citizen of the world, so I never hide or change according to the place. I never wore the hijab, even when I went to Iran, or when I was in Afghanistan, I believe that as I have to respect them, they have to respect me… Anyway, I think the discomfort comes from the fear to disrespect their culture. It’s more linked to their expectations. I must say though that I have always been accepted, maybe because of the way I present myself, not just a woman visiting… but someone going to those places to do things.
In Palestine I defend their right to have their own State, just as Israel does, I oppose the Israeli military occupation because I support the farmers and all… In Afghanistan I support the women who fight against Taliban.
When I go to other places, my being there was never as a tourist traveller, but always a way to see things from the inside, so I think that somehow this spared me from criticism. Once, something happened which was really incredible. In 1980, I spent a whole year in Teora, in Irpinia, doing voluntary work, after the earthquake, and we set up a women’s cooperative. After six or seven months I was there, one day, talking to the other girls, but also to other women and men living in the village, I said something about my mother, and about my brother coming to visit. “So you have a mother? And a brother, too?” Since I was the one organising all things, from the sewers to the people’s committees, it seemed as if I was neither a man nor a woman, but that I was just there to help. It really took me aback. “Of course I do have a family!” asserting my being normal.
Maybe I am messy because I don’t need to look after anyone at home, therefore I can have very personal things around. Strangely enough, I find much livelier the homes of women without children, than those with children around, because you can see their whole world, much more than just a room of one’s own. I don’t know…
Although I am not much of a mummy’s type, because I am not that fond on the caring work, I love more other things… Anyway, I have two black cats, I chose them black because during Inquisition witches were burned with a black cat, so I thought, if Inquisition is back I am ready, I already have my cats. Apart from this, I took them because I had a Palestinian girl staying with me, who was hurting a lot. It was 2002-2003, during the Israeli incursions in Ramallah, and she was really desperate, had lost some family, and came to Italy, staying at my place, she wanted to study theatre. Since I don’t live very central, and I worked as an MP, I was away from Monday to Thursday evening, she was often on her own and asked me: “I’d love to have a cat”. I said, “I barely manage to look after myself, I can’t even think about taking care of a cat”. But then I agreed, it was good for her, so I went and found this black kitten, a female one called Lulù, I took care of her for a week, ensured she was fine and then I left her with her. When the girl left, poor Lulù would have been on her own, so I took another cat named Paco. At first it was a real discovery for me, seeing how these cats really have a soul, and I felt much closer to other things… Maybe now I am a bit too much, sometime I don’t even pluck a flower, fearing I would hurt it, but it is very important… These cats never really prevented me from traveling, I do go places, but of course I can afford to, I have cat-sitters looking after them. But yes, I love my pets, and especially we kind of recognise each other. They feel pain, they are clever and free. I could never have a dog, it would get on my nerves. Too devoted, too dependent, cats instead are free spirits, they choose if and when they want to come closer. I like them a lot, but I am not… I don’t get all mawkish.
I think about it, I think I will die suddenly, without a will. So I thought I would tell my friends “just get in and take whatever you like, take the stuff you want”. Then on second thoughts, with these houses here that costed me next to nothing, I wanted to create a centre, a centre to leave to young women who want organise meetings, debates, conversations. I wanted to transform these houses here in a centre where things are done, to support solidarity, and international stuff. I feel torn sometimes, I would just like to stop and drop everything else, to devote myself only to homeless and immigrants, who are the most vulnerable. Then again, maybe I won’t. I think I will leave my stuff to whoever is in need, or else to Palestinian groups, groups of Palestinian women, who are working well to encourage women to actively participate. I have siblings too, nieces and nephews but I don’t think of them, what comes to my mind is rather this kind of distribution.»
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