
Luisa Capetillo
(1879-1922)
The Activist Arrested For Wearing Pants

1 That’s a direct quote, as given by the main book on her (by Norma Valle-Ferrer, alluded to later in this post). This arrest was made while she was in Cuba, and she was tossed in jail for a bit, but made bail.
2 Her parents were both fairly well-educated blue-collar types. Her mom was a governess who’d been born in France, and her dad was from Spain. The two never married, and her dad left the picture sometime in adolescence (details are scarce).3 Her parents schooled her well beyond the education she’d get elsewhere, and she was a voracious reader from very young. Luisa felt a particular fondness for her mom, about whom she wrote: “You, dear mother of mine, who never tried to control me, or make me think traditionally. You allowed me to inquire freely, only reproaching what you thought were exaggerations, without forcing me any way.”4 I am fudging her age here, but the sentiments she expressed were in full effect by age 20 or so. She was raised Catholic and remained religious, although she abhorred the institution of the church.
5 She met her partner, Manuel Ledesma, through her mother: she was working for his family. Luisa and Manuel hit it off, and had two children: Manuela and Gregorio. His family and most of the town looked down on the relationship, as he was heir to a large fortune, and would go on to become the mayor of the town (Arecibo).6 The duelists here are Manuel (who won her hand) and his friend, Dr. Susoni.7 Luisa wrote of her longing for Manuel: “Remembering the one I waited for on endless nights, with an unbearable loneliness that I wrapped myself in so I could feel comfortable… thinking and waiting to hear the sound of the small bronze door knocker that would end my eternal longing, a longing that destroyed my illusions and cruelly humiliated me: the desire to have the master of my thoughts and feelings by my side, the one who made life blossom in me, duplicating itself in two beings, fruit of my spontaneous level, without trammels or subterfuge, without hypocrisy or self interest… only tarnished by one detail… a woman, mother, who symbolized for me all social norms.”
8 Manuel stayed involved with the kids’ lives and provided for them, and by most accounts, they had an amicable separation. Their kids were closer to Manuel than to Luisa — in fact, the boarding school which Manuela attended didn’t even allow Luisa, a dangerous radical, to see her. (It was an insanely conservative school — heck, Manuela had to shower with clothes on.) When Manuela married, her husband wouldn’t let Luisa see her either.9 Despite all this, Luisa thought it was the highest honor to be a mother, although she seemingly directed most of her motherly efforts to helping out workers (much like her contemporary, Mother Jones).10 Although Manuel continued to provide, Luisa wanted to prove she didn’t need him to. There is some indication that her seeking a job was a source of friction between the two. In her words: “I have made a living from my work for a long time; perhaps he believed he had the responsibility to support me, and he really did. That didn’t bother me, but I wanted to prove that I could support myself, producing something without nonsense or exaggeration.” (side note: she continually used the word “exaggeration” in unexpected ways, and I’m unsure what that word really signified for her.)11 Employers understandably hated lectors and lectoras, and repeatedly tried to get them banned from their factories, but the unions fought for them tooth and nail.
12 Seriously, go look up the Ludlow Massacre, or the Coal Wars, or… really, any of the early labor movement. I know I barely got taught any of that in school, and it’s criminal that it got glossed over.
13 In the early strikes and protests, Luisa worked as a reader, shouting out stuff from the top of benches in the plaza. She quickly started getting hustled all over the island to rally workers everywhere.14 It’s worth noting here that her brand of anarchism was based around a lot of communal struggle — ever an optimist, she envisioned everyone helping each other by desire instead of state-mandated obligation. She wasn’t advocating a violent free-for-all, but for the government to stop oppressing people, and let them revert to a natural state of Edenic community. Like I said, optimist.
15 I have to say, reading about this made me laugh pretty hard, because the exact same stuff is still happening constantly today, from the “just read these seventeen books” to the fuckbo-er, comrades wandering around to hit on women.16 Of some note — she did have a second major relationship, with a pharmacist, that produced a third child, Luis. They never married and the pharmacist seemed to wander off fairly soon after the kid.
17 I’m not here to debate the finer details of whether these are good or bad ideas — but she didn’t really have a smooth transition from point A to point B in her writing. It was a quasi-religious belief that the natural state of men is noble, when freed of the influence of government and oppression.
18 Hoo boy. So I wrote about this on Twitter here, but the long and the short of this: US newspapers blamed Puerto Ricans for being lazy and greedy; PR tried currying public favor by doing a ton to support the WWI war effort; its governor then had to publicly beg for assistance in Washington DC; it showed up much later, in diminished form.19 There was a lot of grumbling in the states about the Puerto Ricans, who’d had a lot of labor agitation, essentially being too big for their britches. Relief drives were anemic, even among Spanish-speaking populations. Luisa spoke out forcefully against this trend.20 This is on top of one of the worst hurricanes in recorded history having ravaged the island just 20 years prior. The excellent Stuff You Missed in History Class covers that in more depth here.
21 It was during this period that she was arrested for wearing pants, and later for inciting a riot.22 She also tried organizing an Agricultural Farm School to help educate Puerto Rico’s poor children. Funding was an issue, though.23 Something I don’t get into here was that the PR labor movement was being partnered with the American AFL at this time — and the AFL was staunchly anti-anarchist. Additionally, the USSR became a dictatorship, further tarnishing the ideas she’d espoused. More ardent activists, like Luisa, got sidelined.
24 Hurricane Hugo in 1989 destroyed much of the archives of her work, so a lot seems to be lost to history. However, in 2014, Luisa, along with 11 other women, were honored with plaques in Puerto Rico’s La Plaza en Honor a la Mujer Puertorriqueña.
Footnotes
↑1 | That’s a direct quote, as given by the main book on her (by Norma Valle-Ferrer, alluded to later in this post). This arrest was made while she was in Cuba, and she was tossed in jail for a bit, but made bail. |
↑2 | Her parents were both fairly well-educated blue-collar types. Her mom was a governess who’d been born in France, and her dad was from Spain. The two never married, and her dad left the picture sometime in adolescence (details are scarce). |
↑3 | Her parents schooled her well beyond the education she’d get elsewhere, and she was a voracious reader from very young. Luisa felt a particular fondness for her mom, about whom she wrote: “You, dear mother of mine, who never tried to control me, or make me think traditionally. You allowed me to inquire freely, only reproaching what you thought were exaggerations, without forcing me any way.” |
↑4 | I am fudging her age here, but the sentiments she expressed were in full effect by age 20 or so. She was raised Catholic and remained religious, although she abhorred the institution of the church. |
↑5 | She met her partner, Manuel Ledesma, through her mother: she was working for his family. Luisa and Manuel hit it off, and had two children: Manuela and Gregorio. His family and most of the town looked down on the relationship, as he was heir to a large fortune, and would go on to become the mayor of the town (Arecibo). |
↑6 | The duelists here are Manuel (who won her hand) and his friend, Dr. Susoni. |
↑7 | Luisa wrote of her longing for Manuel: “Remembering the one I waited for on endless nights, with an unbearable loneliness that I wrapped myself in so I could feel comfortable… thinking and waiting to hear the sound of the small bronze door knocker that would end my eternal longing, a longing that destroyed my illusions and cruelly humiliated me: the desire to have the master of my thoughts and feelings by my side, the one who made life blossom in me, duplicating itself in two beings, fruit of my spontaneous level, without trammels or subterfuge, without hypocrisy or self interest… only tarnished by one detail… a woman, mother, who symbolized for me all social norms.” |
↑8 | Manuel stayed involved with the kids’ lives and provided for them, and by most accounts, they had an amicable separation. Their kids were closer to Manuel than to Luisa — in fact, the boarding school which Manuela attended didn’t even allow Luisa, a dangerous radical, to see her. (It was an insanely conservative school — heck, Manuela had to shower with clothes on.) When Manuela married, her husband wouldn’t let Luisa see her either. |
↑9 | Despite all this, Luisa thought it was the highest honor to be a mother, although she seemingly directed most of her motherly efforts to helping out workers (much like her contemporary, Mother Jones). |
↑10 | Although Manuel continued to provide, Luisa wanted to prove she didn’t need him to. There is some indication that her seeking a job was a source of friction between the two. In her words: “I have made a living from my work for a long time; perhaps he believed he had the responsibility to support me, and he really did. That didn’t bother me, but I wanted to prove that I could support myself, producing something without nonsense or exaggeration.” (side note: she continually used the word “exaggeration” in unexpected ways, and I’m unsure what that word really signified for her.) |
↑11 | Employers understandably hated lectors and lectoras, and repeatedly tried to get them banned from their factories, but the unions fought for them tooth and nail. |
↑12 | Seriously, go look up the Ludlow Massacre, or the Coal Wars, or… really, any of the early labor movement. I know I barely got taught any of that in school, and it’s criminal that it got glossed over. |
↑13 | In the early strikes and protests, Luisa worked as a reader, shouting out stuff from the top of benches in the plaza. She quickly started getting hustled all over the island to rally workers everywhere. |
↑14 | It’s worth noting here that her brand of anarchism was based around a lot of communal struggle — ever an optimist, she envisioned everyone helping each other by desire instead of state-mandated obligation. She wasn’t advocating a violent free-for-all, but for the government to stop oppressing people, and let them revert to a natural state of Edenic community. Like I said, optimist. |
↑15 | I have to say, reading about this made me laugh pretty hard, because the exact same stuff is still happening constantly today, from the “just read these seventeen books” to the fuckbo-er, comrades wandering around to hit on women. |
↑16 | Of some note — she did have a second major relationship, with a pharmacist, that produced a third child, Luis. They never married and the pharmacist seemed to wander off fairly soon after the kid. |
↑17 | I’m not here to debate the finer details of whether these are good or bad ideas — but she didn’t really have a smooth transition from point A to point B in her writing. It was a quasi-religious belief that the natural state of men is noble, when freed of the influence of government and oppression. |
↑18 | Hoo boy. So I wrote about this on Twitter here, but the long and the short of this: US newspapers blamed Puerto Ricans for being lazy and greedy; PR tried currying public favor by doing a ton to support the WWI war effort; its governor then had to publicly beg for assistance in Washington DC; it showed up much later, in diminished form. |
↑19 | There was a lot of grumbling in the states about the Puerto Ricans, who’d had a lot of labor agitation, essentially being too big for their britches. Relief drives were anemic, even among Spanish-speaking populations. Luisa spoke out forcefully against this trend. |
↑20 | This is on top of one of the worst hurricanes in recorded history having ravaged the island just 20 years prior. The excellent Stuff You Missed in History Class covers that in more depth here. |
↑21 | It was during this period that she was arrested for wearing pants, and later for inciting a riot. |
↑22 | She also tried organizing an Agricultural Farm School to help educate Puerto Rico’s poor children. Funding was an issue, though. |
↑23 | Something I don’t get into here was that the PR labor movement was being partnered with the American AFL at this time — and the AFL was staunchly anti-anarchist. Additionally, the USSR became a dictatorship, further tarnishing the ideas she’d espoused. More ardent activists, like Luisa, got sidelined. |
↑24 | Hurricane Hugo in 1989 destroyed much of the archives of her work, so a lot seems to be lost to history. However, in 2014, Luisa, along with 11 other women, were honored with plaques in Puerto Rico’s La Plaza en Honor a la Mujer Puertorriqueña. |
Art Notes
Pretty straightforward, really! I tried to work little bits of the stuff she’d left behind into the final image: there’s a crib, her old clothes, and the empty chair (symbolizing her ex-lover Manuel).
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Next Time on Rejected Princesses
It’s gonna be a long one — probably longest one I’ve ever done. The hint is this:
This WW2 spy had a rather unique poem to verify her identify on radio communiques with London: “She stood right there / In the moonlight fair / And the moon shone / Through her nightie / It lit right on / The nipple of her tit / Oh Jesus Christ Almighty!”