Margaret Randall

Margaret Randall
Photo by Juan Pérez
“Then I saw what the calling was :
it was the road I traveled”
- Muriel Rukeyser

My life and work have been profoundly informed by parents who gave me love and adventure, and encouraged creativity; the dramatic desert canyons, rich colors and open skies of the southwestern United States; Socialist ideals; the second wave of feminism; and the generous mentorship of many great friends and colleagues. My children, grandchildren, and great grandchild are always with me, even when far away; and my spouse Barbara is bedrock. New York’s abstract expressionist painters in the 1950s, Mexico and her struggles of the 1960s, the Cuban revolution’s second brave decade in the 1970s, the Vietnamese people’s struggle against US attack and occupation in that same decade, and the Sandinista attempt to change Nicaragua in the early 1980s were places and events that shaped me. The exploration of ancient sites continues to be a source of nourishment, and I have long been involved with oral tradition. I deeply believe in humanistic values, combating our culture of violence and greed, and art as a tool for change. I invite you to enter my website, learn about my books, read my poetry and look at my photographic images.


Written in Patria o MuerteWhen night shrouds this Havana street its buildings might be freshly painted, no electrical wires struggling for power, no despair hanging from a full moon pale orange in duplicitous sky. Night the great equalizer— what we do not see cannot make us sad. Fifty-six years: pride defiant against insult, hair-trigger designed to bring a nation to its knees. In daylight the ragged shells of buildings gone to age succumb to the tropics’ sudden downpour, claim a (...)

Most recent articles

Latest articles

  • The Shape of Red: Insider / Outsider Reflections (with Ruth Hubbard)

    Introduction (fragment)
    We met in Nicaragua. Earlier, on a visit to Cuba, Ruth had tried to find Margaret and was told she had moved to Managua. Then, in 1983, both of us attended the meeting of artists and intellectuals hosted by the Sandinistas; some three hundred and fifty concerned (...)

  • Dentro de otro tiempo: reflejos del Gran Canon

    Basketmaker, Anasazi, Cohonina, Sinagua y Paiute, voces que susurran a través de los deltas, pálidas sílabas, torcidas y estiradas con el peso del maíz y los frijoles, cargados por caminos escarpados hasta los graneros que se llenan por otro invierno y otro. Hasta que no hay más (...)

  • Esto sucede cuando el corazon de una mujer se rompe

    Después de la pérdida de Granada estabas indignada, abatida de pesar. Tanto Goliat para tan vulnerable David. En Trinidad, el recuerdo de tu paisaje te abrió a las mujeres, a ti misma. Cuando hablas nos abarcas con tus dedos finos, color de café (...)

  • When I Look Into the Mirror and See You: Women, Terror and Resistance

    Chapter 1 The Prism: Women’s Human Rights
    Language evokes, describes, communicates. But language can also be used to obscure and mislead. It can be used to kill. Today’s political discourse, cynically manipulated, often does just that. Nowhere is this more evident than when speaking of (...)

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