This lifestyle of always looking forward isn’t meant to be dramatic or radical. It’s a grounding practice rooted in Kaba’s identity and is why her passion for collaboration and growth flows so easily from one cup to the next. And yet, her newest book looks backward to the abolitionist’s decades-long fight for justice to meet the present moment.
“[Kaba] is one of the most brilliant, incisive visionary leaders of my generation, of this moment, and also one of the funniest, most practical and kind, even though she likes to hide it,” Ritchie says with a laugh. “Her love of Black people, survivors, migrants, working people, disabled people—her entire body of work is about what love looks like in action.”
Kaba, who began her organizing career in the late 1980s in NYC before moving to Rogers Park as an early 20-something, says Chicago’s nature as an organizing city and the collaborative spirit from people she worked with here greatly shaped her into the activist she is today. “I came as someone who was struggling to understand myself in the world and where my place would be, and I left Chicago understanding myself much better as an organizer and as a Black woman.”
Kaba says what makes her happiest is seeing the youth, like those at CFS, take over and expand on work that’s meaningful to them, especially policies that directly impact them. The collectivity she formed while carving out a place for herself to grow and constantly be curious she learned from other organizers before her in the movement. It’s cyclical, she says, as is the influence she’s had on—and felt from—others.
“She made me believe in abolition,” Edwards says, who remembers learning about Kaba in high school. “With her knowledge and how she created a successful platform to understanding abolition, I started to think about, ‘How do I address conflict in my own relationships?’ or ‘How can I get to the root causes of what leads to violence?’ And believing that prisons don’t do that.”
