A brief autobiography of Anthony (Tony) Barrett

In late fall of 1977, a young couple looked upon their two young children appraisingly and concluded “...if we really want torturous family vacations we are going to need to fill out the back seat of the station wagon better.” In July of that next year a burning question was answered—who will forever sit in the middle of that backseat—as I made this even little family decidedly odd.

Just before I entered high school, we left the only home I’d ever known for the bluer grass of Kentucky on the other side of that river. There I would first learn the joy of a private bedroom and not having to climb a ladder to get into bed. Performing in speech and drama during those years would hone both my self-confidence and buttery smooth deep voice before I shifted further into the backwoods of rural Kentucky for college. A mere five years later I emerged from Murray State University with a BFA in furniture making, a penchant for dabbling in all of those things my religious republican parents warned me about, and an appreciation for country living.

Teaching English in a tiny, rice-farming Japanese village in 2001 offered me the opportunity to see more of the world, drive on the left hand side of the road and live without my native language and culture. I was also afforded ample time to dwell on where I would go for grad school. During that long, cold, dark winter I decided San Diego would be that place. Funny, it seemed like such a good idea at the time.

Before that experimental year in southern California was out, my van, my job in a custom furniture shop and my relationship would each die off before I even applied for school. Surely this was a sign...I needed to get further north. And so it was that I found my way to Madison, Wisconsin and a year of grad school funding at U.W. While in Madison, I was a member of the Emma Goldman Co-op house and was exposed to community living and progressive politics for the first time. Suddenly I saw much more value in sharing my life and energy with others than searching for the deeper meaning in my furniture designs. After my funding was pulled for the next year I began a search for the next level of community and Dancing Rabbit was the first of many intentional communities I would visit.

Before three seasons had gone by I would return to a work exchange position with Ironweed sub-community and stomp many a batch of cob. Three months later, I would become a resident of DR in my own right. My partner Alyssa, whom I met while a work-exchanger, and I would begin building a house late last summer. Together, we have managed through a cold winter in a partially completed structure, and become the newest members of Ironweed as well as expectant parents. Now I look forward to raising a family of my own in community, developing a school of natural building and enjoying this abundant life.