Susie Cagle: Nine Gallons #1 & 2 (Microcosm)
We all want to make a difference in the world. Susie Cagle, the graphic journalist of Nine Gallons, rightly addresses the complexity and contradictory nature of this desire — and the joys of fulfilling it. Even when we help others, our motives will be questioned. We’ll wonder if we’re doing enough and then if we’re doing too much. Through her work with volunteer-based organization Food Not Bombs, Cagle’s encounters with other workers and the homeless of San Francisco (who are really just “camping”) show the difficulties of changing the world and articulating to yourself what that means.
In both issues of Nine Gallons (the first is available on Cagle’s website, the second from Microcosm Publishing), the author faces opposition from her friends, who don’t see the value of her work, and from the homeless, who are suspicious of her motives.
Food Not Bombs, the group that Cagle works for, scavenges ingredients from dumpsters and then makes them into soup to give to homeless people. The opening page of the second issue underscores how Food Not Bombs is seen in the community (one man assumes they’re anarchists, another insists that they shouldn’t serve vegan only, and a woman is interested until she hears that the food is scavenged from the trash). Already, we see that an organization that is ostensibly selfless and helpful to the community is subject to scrutiny from that same community — all because its motives and selflessness seem suspect.
In the second issue, Susie looks at the values and complexities of her organization. She talks to fellow volunteer Raj about the freegan movement, notable because its followers are generally white, middle class, and have jobs. Then she addresses the bloggers who say that Food Not Bombs is a “white supremacist organization” because it dissuades people of color from organizing themselves. Cagle is interested in criticism from others, but she also questions her own organization’s values. She says, “I agree that some of the activists are trustafarian white bros who dumpster dive on weekends, but would we really — would the community really be better off if those white bros just kept all that food for themselves?” Susie doesn’t like to associate herself with the “bros” or freegans, but something is better than nothing, right?
In one of the best scenes, Susie learns that her roommate, previously dismissive of Food Not Bombs, wants to help the homeless because it would be an “edifying experience” for her and allow her to make a documentary about her experiences. Susie is scathing in her response and accuses her roommate of exploitative attitudes. The ensuing argument leaves both Susie and her roommate upset, but her roommate is simply guilty of her unexamined privilege. The shades of privilege among the volunteers and their presupposed motives very nearly divide a group that ostensibly has the same aim: to help the homeless of San Francisco.
Cagle says of her comic, “I wanted to humanize a movement that is somewhat marginalized, especially an aspect of it that is not a feel-good soup kitchen, but a real political action — and I wanted to show it, warts and all.” She adds, however, that her comic doesn’t have to be read politically: “I think a lot of people read Nine Gallons as a call to action, which is great! But that wasn’t really my intent. My goal is always just to tell stories — I feel like that is actually a more powerful motivator than an explicit call to arms.” In the first issue, Susie shies away from using an anarchist flag as Food Not Bombs’ logo, but it’s clear that her actions as a journalist and those of her organization are political, at least to the rest of San Francisco. Feeding the homeless at the UN Plaza by using scavenged food is a powerful statement of intent.
As founder of the Graphic Journos Collective, Cagle works in many mediums to talk about “what concerns her.” She writes, “I also do regular, old written journalism, but I think illustrations have an immediacy that words don’t, and they can be more explicitly humanizing. I think, ultimately, you can tell a more complex nonfiction story, and do so elegantly and in a way that reaches a broader audience, using pictures instead of just words.” Stories have power, and the shades of meaning and characterizations in Nine Gallons show the complexity of the issue better than a polemic ever could. Her illustrations are helpful in a story that necessitates a human face to associate with an idea or a view that we might disagree with otherwise.
Cagle’s “warts and all” discussion of what it means to help others is valuable in its honesty and humor. It raises interesting questions — like when Cagle argues with a homeless man about their reuse of spoons or when she turns down a woman’s meek request for a place to sleep. We can’t do everything, her comics say, but we must examine how we’re doing what we’re doing, and whether it could be improved.