Making an Organizer - My Story

How did I get here? The story of a young organizer trying to save the world.

My name is Allison Claire Neal-Wallace, but most just call me Claire. I’m from Las Cruces, New Mexico and I was raised by two self-proclaimed hippies who met in Eureka, California. My dad, Geronimo, was an activist. He was raised in a military family by conservative parents, though my Grandfather was on deployments for most of his childhood. The pressures of being a military brat whose father would serve over 30 years in the US Navy led him to follow in his Dad’s footsteps. When he enlisted in 1984, he was 18 years old. Young, fresh, and like many others pressured into joining up. He served for 10 years, and after his best friend was killed in a firefight so illegal the FBI would be at my door for simply mentioning it, he got out. As soon as he finished his contract, he burned his papers, burned his uniform, and made for Alaska.

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My dad at Gypsy Mountain in 1998 (starts at 3:58).

In his time with Earth First! he trained tree sitters, ran satellite camps, and sat in a few trees himself. There is one story that you wont hear about him though, he is the reason Julia Butterfly Hill got past the gate. The camp she arrived at was shutting down, and no new sitters were to be accepted there, but my dad didn’t care. He led Julia to Shakespeare, who taught her everything she needed to know. That’s a whole other story though, one told incredibly well in her book The Legacy of Luna.

It would be 6 years after his interview by Beth Bosk that I was born, at Mad River Hospital in Arcata, California on May 25th, 2004. I was the only baby born in the hospital that day, so my Mom got special treatment and stayed an extra day to recover. My Dad, Grandmother on my Mom’s side, the Midwife, and a small army of nurses, which for Arcata standards is 3, were there to welcome me into the world. We would only live in Humboldt county for half a year, when we moved to New Mexico so we could be closer to family. For six years we lived in Albuquerque, and moved to Las Cruces for me to start the First Grade.

“I got tired of living in what America is today” -Geronimo, 1998

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I could write an entire article about my dad, which I probably will someday, but today I’m telling my story. Growing up with activist parents is an obvious way to make an activist, but I had a long journey to this point. I was always told to do what I thought was the right thing, no matter what. I was told to speak up for myself, for what I believe in. This led me to have an interest in politics that started blooming in 2015.

I was a sixth grader, watching our political system be slowly dismantled without even having the knowledge to understand it. Yet I still knew it was wrong. In late 2015 my Mom took my sibling and I to a Bernie Sanders rally in Vado, NM. We waited in line for what felt like a year in the scorching New Mexico sun. Out of it I got a t-shirt, and motivation. From that point on my Mom brought me to any and all political action she participated in (barring things that took place during school hours) and kick-started a drive to actually do something. My first notable interaction was with former Congressman Steve Pearce, who was in office at the time.

Pearce was under heavy scrutiny after hosting town halls only in the Red parts of his district. The pressure eventually made him cave, and he held a town hall at the Farm and Ranch Heritage Museum in Las Cruces (the largest population center in his district). When I arrived with my Mom, it was standing room only. Question after question was being dodged by the Congressman, and even as a sixth grader I was angry. Pearce took a question from the man sitting across the aisle from me, and as I held my hand up high, he walked away. I heard people in the crowd screaming “Let a young person speak!” “Let that kid ask a question!” and the man sitting next to us smiled at me, leaned over and said “Walk right up to him with your hand up.”

As I walked towards Pearce, my heart was racing. Then Governor, Susana Martinez, had come to my elementary school less than a year earlier to announce her huge new education plan. I wore my mom’s Bernie shirt to school that day, and sat silently in view of the Governor. She shook hands with kids around me, but walked past me. This is what was racing through my head as I walked up to the Congressman and said; “Governor Susana Martinez came to my school a year ago to announce her new education fund, and last month she cut over $1 million from the state education department. How do you justify that in a state that is 49th in education?”

Pearce dodged the question, saying “I don’t work in state politics anymore so I don’t feel I have to justify that. Does that answer your question?” I shook my head, but he walked away anyway. He did this for most questions, finding some cop-out in the wording so he didn’t have to actually talk about policy with a room full of democrats. I was pulled aside after by local news, and interviewed about what I thought of the town hall and why I came. I remember my Film and Broadcasting teacher showing the class my news clip, and telling me I was gonna be a politician one day. At the time I was committed to the idea that I was gonna be a film director and brushed him off.

Nine years later, I was the Deputy Organizing Director on a front-line congressional race to keep out Pearce’s successor, Yvette Harrell.

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Throughout Trump’s first term my mom took me to a lot of protests, events, and marches. We were very active in supporting the Unitarian Universalist Association’s Standing on the Side of Love initiative through our local church. As his term came and went, we were fighting.

When 2020 rolled around, things changed. I was extremely depressed and filled with self-loathing. I detested my body, my face, my voice, and when I shaved my head in 2021 it was the tipping point. I wore a towel over my head to feel like I had my long hair back, and to hide from the world around me. I slept all day and stayed up all night going between the various phases of manic depression. One night, as I was laying in bed I realized I had to make a change. When we couldn’t afford the internet bill anymore and they shut off our service, I was in an even worse place. Playing whatever I had downloaded and listening to podcasts on my phone. Eventually I went to work for my Grandfather helping with the rental properties he owns.

In that backyard, during the hottest week of the year, I was alone and doing manual labor outside. It was miserable. All I could do was think and listen to music, and since I had time to listen to something I decided to finally dive in to Yung Lean. I turned on Stardust and was immediately enamored. The production and the terrible English that he spoke connected with me on an indescribable level, I then moved on to Bladee and fell in love with music like never before. Tracks I hated on first listen became my favorites on the third. On Undergone, produced by ssalvia, Bladee says “oooh perfect, I feel like a woman.” In the moment I laughed, but then I started thinking, “I want to feel like a woman.”

It was there, in the backyard of the house where my Grandparents married that I finally had my “egg cracking” moment. It was like the puzzle I had been struggling to put together just showed me the way. I went home that day feeling like a weight was lifted off my chest, but I was still soaked in anxiety. In fact it was worse, I became instantly hyper-aware of all my “masculine” features and spent two days in a dark room, only talking to a few friends. A few months later I put on my first estrogen patch, and took the first step in changing my life forever…