The Rainbow Gathering, the Fourth of July, A Memoir

Summer solstice has just passed. I started the morning today reading the letter from some friends of mine who always seek a spiritual message in the tradition of a particular band of the Ojibway people on the solstice. But a week and a half after the solstice, all of the first week of July, there is an eclectic gathering of the Rainbow “tribes”. Those peoples who emerged as latter-day tribes in a conscious way first in the 1960s. The extended families of choice that in their diversity of colors, inclination, and orientation make a rainbow.

The first gathering of the Rainbow Family of Living Light (as they call themselves) was in 1972, apparently against a fair amount of government resistance.  Around 20,000 people finally got past the roadblock. At one of the few gatherings I ever attended, I walked in on a circle of people, where one storyteller was recounting this event, only to hear the end of the story, about a group of people climbing up some plateau and being met by others with food and hugs.

In the 1980s I made my way to three Rainbow Gatherings. Michigan in ‘83, Missouri in ‘85, and Pennsylvania in ‘86. There are lots of things that I liked about the Gatherings I attended. The sharing, and communal spirit, the beauty of being in the wilderness, the dedication of the hard-core Rainbow crowd to a good event, the care for the environment, and the amazing fact that these events are non-monetary. On the Fourth there is a big community circle and a prayer for world peace. But on the Fourth of July, one thing I particularly enjoyed was that it was possible to be with thousands of people, and not hear a single firecracker, not a single skyrocket. I don't believe I even saw a sparkler, a local manifestation of peace.

As a young anarchist attending these gathering, what I saw was a demonstration of the principles of anarchism brought into being in a small and temporary wilderness city. All decisions for the community as a whole were made by consensus in a general assembly. Of course these were sparsely attended assemblies, as most people preferred other ways of enjoying their week in the wilderness, but the mechanism was there, and from my observation, careful deliberation clearly occurred. Beyond the decisions for the community as a whole, the Rainbow Gathering is a celebration of freedom of choice. 

But freedom of choice in no way is a descent into chaos. Several large kitchens emerge capable of feeding thousands of people. Labor, supplies, and financial resources are all freely given. At the end of each meal they pass the magic Hat. No doubt there must be some who give a lot, but many of the gatherings attendance are hippies who live what might be called a marginal existence in the capitalist world of “Babylon”. But it isn't cash donations alone that make the kitchens happen. I remember traveling to my first gathering in northern Michigan with Lee and Sally and a couple of others packed into a little car, somehow in addition to all our bags, Lee harvested a crate of lettuce from his community garden plot, and that also made its way into the trunk. For another gathering I believe we scavenged some granola, or flour in a 50 pound bag from a local dumpster.

Here I was among thousands of “my people” and yet I ran into the problem of only knowing a handful of them and feeling quite isolated at times. It was through this isolation that I learned the important lesson, that you want to make friends, or you're feeling lonely, it's a good idea to volunteer in the community kitchen. There are always onions to chop or potatoes to peel. My favorite kitchen experience, only because it was amazing to me to see it happening in the wilderness, was the soy kitchen. At the time I worked making tofu at a cooperative back in Ann Arbor. It is a process that requires some labor, grinding beans, cooking beans, extracting the liquid milk, curdling it and then pressing it. Cleanliness is also important. And here was a fine operation soybean slurry cooking in a large 55 gallon drum, instead of the press system I was used to, the slurry was poured into a sack that was hung from a tree and twisted to extract the milk. The final product, the tofu, was then given to other kitchens to turn into dinner. And dinners were served up free to anyone who had a plate. Each kitchen had its own name and identity. I particularly remember the good food that the Krishna kitchen made. Of course they always put a little sugar in the cream of wheat.

Other functions of the community were met by similar principles of voluntary association. Healthcare, childcare, water and sanitary services, people working to resolve conflicts in the community, I believe I even saw some emergency housing services, and the dedicated rainbow hard-core stay around for months after the gathering to re-seed trails and make it so you can't tell the gathering was there a year later.

Of course all is not perfect in paradise, there has been an ongoing struggle with the Park Service, over the use of the National Forests. The Park Service have wanted the gathering to apply for a permit.  The Gathering, describing itself as a non-organization of nonmembers lacks any entity to apply for a permit. Further, those from the Rainbow Family side of things will point out that the Constitution grants the right to peaceably assemble. But my impression is that at the end of the day, the “Rainbows” generally remain on good terms with local Park service folks, and their care for the land is appreciated.

Then there is the problem of drugs and alcohol. Of course, drugs are accepted at  gatherings.  In fact, for some they are a sacrament. I remember a peyote tea tent, where one man offered an all-night ceremony, the tea was not very strong, I had one cup and felt the faintest of effects. But I imagine that if someone stayed the whole night sipping a cup every hour or so, it would have become quite the peyote experience.  I remember seeing a bag of hallucinogenic mushrooms that a man said he grew all year long just to be able to bring to the gathering. Alcohol is another issue. In general, alcohol is not favored at rainbow gatherings, but there are plenty of rainbow brothers and sisters who struggle with alcoholism. There is a camp on the edge of the encampment that is alcohol friendly. But alcohol elsewhere meets with antagonism. I remember a discussion where an “old timer” suggested if you see someone with the six pack, a group of you could descend on that person, and “help them” drink the beer. I don't know how useful this suggestion would be in practice, but it does suggest something about the direct action spirit of “Rainbows”. There is a group of people calling themselves Shanti-Sena after Gandhi's term for peace force. When conflicts, alcohol-related or otherwise, emerge the Shanti-Sena come out of the woodwork, or should I say come out of the woods and worked to defuse the conflict.

Although it's been over 20 years since I've been to a rainbow gathering proper, I still respect and honor the community that starts with the search by a site committee.  And then in June slowly grows as backwoods campers lay sticks and stones as guidelines for future trails. And then in late June kitchens began to grow, and numbers began to grow. And by July 4^th thousands of people inhabit this Temporary Autonomous Zone. And finally in late July and through August a hearty volunteer crew repair the land from the stress of millions of footsteps.

My partner's brother is there again this summer as he often is, helping to focalize the Turtle Soup kitchen (not to worry no turtles were harmed in the making of this kitchen or its vegan food). I wish him and the rest of the rainbow gathering a happy Fourth of July, and successful prayers for world peace.