There is much that is wrong and confused and a royal pain in my nether regions lately. My heart is broken over the massacre in Virginia. My brain is tired from trying to make sense of it. Math-Man and I are tangled up in a long-distance argument. Big changes may await me. Or not.
Feh.
Good Southern girl that I am, I channeled Scarlet O'Hara. I'll think about it tomorrow. A braver person would have cleaned closets or scrubbed floors. I started to cook. And cook. And cook some more. Before I knew it, I had a pot of spaghetti, a huge salad, some bread rising, a peach cobbler..... Nothing fancy. And I can't tell you that is was cooked with love and lightness of heart. More like dark glowering angst. But it still tasted good.
Now how in the name of all that is holy is one person going to eat all of that? Never fear. I have a son who can smell a home-cooked meal from across town. I heard his truck -and his buddies- in the driveway, so I put four more plates on the table. A few minutes later, a yoga buddy popped over to see why I hadn't been at class. One more plate on the table. She called her husband (another Math-Man) and told him to come over. Their daughter popped over for a few minutes.
We haven't solved the problems of the world. But we talked about important things -violence, the equality of marital partners, does George bush really have a brain. And some not-so-important ones -seriously, IS there a good domestic beer?
Nothing's changed, except my attitude. Of course it wasn't the food. None of those people knew there was food here when they stopped over. Instead, it was the gathering around the table and the almost lost art of conversation. And the wine didn't hurt ;)
Thank goodness for friends! I was glad to be able to feed the ones gathered around my table.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Thinking Critically and Building Peace
Pretty deliberately, I haven't sought any more news today about the shootings at Virginia Tech. My brain is on overload; I have absorbed all the grief I can absorb. My heart breaks for the people who don't have the luxury of simply deciding to stop paying attention to the story.
My friend Kimberly is quite right to point out that, the media circus notwithstanding, violent crime is actually down in this country. We shouldn't forget that we have the ability to think critically just because we're reeling from grief. But the statistics don't tell the whole story -not that she was claiming that they did. It's entirely possible that the crime statistics are simultaneously down from 10 years ago and yet too high. Nor do I have any evidence that schools are particularly unsafe places to be, statistically speaking. Again, I'm not sure that's the point. One school shooting is too many.
The last I heard the insta-pundits were out in force. "We should keep kids safe at school." "We shouldn't mainstream kids with mental illnesses." "We should enact meaningful gun control legislation." "We should relax gun control legislation so innocent bystanders can shoot back."
Hush already.
Acknowledge that this urge to do something -anything- comes from your own grief. Acknowledge that this grasping at straws rather than solid explanations is an honest and commendable need for understanding. But then, let go of the sound bites and set about actually understanding the things you're saying. And acknowledge that understanding anything is hard work.
Research suggests that there is no profile that will predict who school shooters will be. I'm sure that profiles are already being bandied about as though they were fact. They are not. And when the mythology replaces fact, actual understanding is impeded. And the thing about understanding this kind of tragedy? People's lives are at stake. Professional practice, basic intelligence, and reasonable life principles all demand that we stand for truth.
Think twice before advocating still more curtailments of civil liberties. You may decide in the end that you support more restrictions of liberties (and I will argue with you, but that's all right), but think first. If you end up trading them away for a feeling of safety that turns out to be unwarranted, what will you have accomplished? Cameras in the halls, see-through backpacks, searches as you enter buildings, isolation of people who are different... these strategies build resentment and intolerance. My guess is (someone probably knows... I'll poke around in the research) that these strategies might help us identify perpetrators after the fact but won't do much to prevent a troubled person from becoming a perpetrator. These measures will have accomplished something, but probably not the thing we wanted in the first place.
Rather, I think we're required to do the harder work, the more nebulous work, of building compassionate communities. The verbal violence of sarcasm that comes so easily to me? That needs to go. The dismissing that is so easy to do when I encounter someone who doesn't please me? It's gotta go, too. The brain that God gave me? I should use it as a peace-making tool. The stakes are too high to fool around. We need real understanding and authentic peace. Let's get to work.
My friend Kimberly is quite right to point out that, the media circus notwithstanding, violent crime is actually down in this country. We shouldn't forget that we have the ability to think critically just because we're reeling from grief. But the statistics don't tell the whole story -not that she was claiming that they did. It's entirely possible that the crime statistics are simultaneously down from 10 years ago and yet too high. Nor do I have any evidence that schools are particularly unsafe places to be, statistically speaking. Again, I'm not sure that's the point. One school shooting is too many.
The last I heard the insta-pundits were out in force. "We should keep kids safe at school." "We shouldn't mainstream kids with mental illnesses." "We should enact meaningful gun control legislation." "We should relax gun control legislation so innocent bystanders can shoot back."
Hush already.
Acknowledge that this urge to do something -anything- comes from your own grief. Acknowledge that this grasping at straws rather than solid explanations is an honest and commendable need for understanding. But then, let go of the sound bites and set about actually understanding the things you're saying. And acknowledge that understanding anything is hard work.
Research suggests that there is no profile that will predict who school shooters will be. I'm sure that profiles are already being bandied about as though they were fact. They are not. And when the mythology replaces fact, actual understanding is impeded. And the thing about understanding this kind of tragedy? People's lives are at stake. Professional practice, basic intelligence, and reasonable life principles all demand that we stand for truth.
Think twice before advocating still more curtailments of civil liberties. You may decide in the end that you support more restrictions of liberties (and I will argue with you, but that's all right), but think first. If you end up trading them away for a feeling of safety that turns out to be unwarranted, what will you have accomplished? Cameras in the halls, see-through backpacks, searches as you enter buildings, isolation of people who are different... these strategies build resentment and intolerance. My guess is (someone probably knows... I'll poke around in the research) that these strategies might help us identify perpetrators after the fact but won't do much to prevent a troubled person from becoming a perpetrator. These measures will have accomplished something, but probably not the thing we wanted in the first place.
Rather, I think we're required to do the harder work, the more nebulous work, of building compassionate communities. The verbal violence of sarcasm that comes so easily to me? That needs to go. The dismissing that is so easy to do when I encounter someone who doesn't please me? It's gotta go, too. The brain that God gave me? I should use it as a peace-making tool. The stakes are too high to fool around. We need real understanding and authentic peace. Let's get to work.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
A New Green Challenge
Just in time for Earth Day, Slate and TreeHugger have teamed up again for a new Green Challenge. (Quite possibly, that sentence wins the prize for most links/sentence.)
The challenge starts by looking at transportation -which is unfortunate, because I just drove to go vote. The polling place is about 3 blocks away, and the weather is beautiful and I own a perfectly lovely bike. So, pretty clearly I need reminders in this department. In my defense, I also went to the library, checked out books, and dropped off four big bags of books that I've weeded from our collection. Okay, my collection. But still. At least I combined errands. It's a lame defense, but it's the one I have.
This week, I will bike to work. I won't promise that the whole day will be car-free, but I'll at least do that much. I need to get back to car-free Thursdays. Now that the weather is (one fervently hopes) turning to spring, I can get back to that easily enough. So, there's the plan.
Go check out the challenge and let us know what you're going to change about your transportation -if anything.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Friday Random 10
You know the drill. Set your iPod to shuffle and tell us the first ten songs that appear. No cheating. Don't leave out the ones that make you look like a dork or add in ones that you think will make you look cool. Here are mine for the week:
- Music of Healing; Pete Seeger, Tommy Sands, and Vedran Smailovic
- Could I Have this Kiss Forever; Enrique Iglesias
- B Minor: Jenny's Chicken/Glasgow Reel; Leahy
- KaBoom!; Ursula 1000 (I hope it doesn't get more embarrassing this week. I don't see how it could.)
- Find Out Who Your Friends Are; Tracy Lawrence
- Tears of a Clown; Four Tops
- Largo from Concerto for Harpsichord No. 5 in F Minor, BWV 1056; J.S. Bach
- Dance of the Swans; Swan Lake; Tchaikovsky
- Conquest of Paradise; The Ten Tenors
- Today (As for Me and my House); Kathryn Scott
Thursday, April 12, 2007
God is Watching You (??)
Driving home from work yesterday, I heard a disturbing local news segment. Apparently, sometime in the night before Easter, someone broke the stained glass window at my church. It would have to have been quite late. The Vigil on Saturday night went until 9:30 or 10 and I'm sure people weren't out of there until 11:00 at the earliest. I assume, but don't know for sure, that they mean the mosaic window that runs behind the sanctuary space. If so, this break is quite disturbing to the community and the celebration they would have been hoping for on Easter morning. What a bone-headed, nonsensical, destructive thing for someone to have done.
But, the part of the story that caught my attention was "police are using surveillance tapes to identify the perpetrator..." . There are surveillance tapes of my church? Does that strike anyone else as odd? Where's the camera? What are they monitoring? Why?
On the one hand, the building is open until quite late at night. The parking lot is dark, and staff and parishioners need to get to their cars safely. Not that surveillance actually helps with that, but I'm trying here. There are gold chalices and other liturgical supplies that I suppose a thief could steal. There's the peculiar-to-Catholicism fear that someone evil will steal consecrated hosts and act disrespectfully. Honestly, does that really happen? And even if it does, doesn't worrying about it beyond the simple protective measure of locking everything up in the tabernacle seem sort of like magical thinking?
I don't think the parish staff is up to anything dark and sinister with these tapes. They probably don't even think about them from one month's end to the next. I'm still kind of disturbed. The "other hand" of this argument is that we can go almost nowhere anymore and not be under surveillance. I really don't care that I'm under surveillance at the grocery store and the bank -even my gym, which HAS to be disturbing to the poor slob faced with watching those tapes. But church? If we're doing church right, people are working pretty close to the bone. Surely we could have privacy for those moments of spiritual angst that we all experience.
Who else would have access to the information contained on them? Would the staff have to turn them over to some over-zealous governmental agency? They would be spared that decision if the tapes didn't exist in the first place. Would, say, the Bishop have access? They could be used to monitor staff -which might be good, but given our bishop I doubt that we're concerned about the same things. He'd probably want to monitor orthodoxy more than, say, child safety.
These are probably just tapes or digital information that no one looks at at all, until a crime is committed. But still....
Tags: Catholicism
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
The Two-Body Problem
Really, it's a problem in classical mechanics.... something about two particles in motion interacting with each other. I clearly should have looked it up. What I mean here, though, is the code-phrase in academia for "what do we do with two career families?" How can a hiring committee entice the one partner to come to their institution when there's no position in the community or the university for the partner? Or can they work a deal where there's an instructor position in another department, so that they get hot-shot-professor-person? (The less hot-shot person then becomes known as "the trailing spouse". How flattering.) Can two people share one position? What might the department offer to make the fact of living 1000 miles apart impossible to refuse?
And those are the problems the university has -which I care about, but only tangentially. We've been busy, as you know, trying to figure this out from the other side of the table. I had previously thought the two-body problem mostly affected young academics, particularly those searching for their first post-PhD jobs. My mistake.
As I've whined about repeatedly, Math-Man and I are living apart until August. He's on sabbatical -a sabbatical he deserved, needed, and, truth be told, kind of demanded. Moreover, he intended to travel for this sabbatical. I couldn't uproot my life here, so we're living apart and figuring it out.
I'm struck by a few things. It stinks. Oh wait. I think I've mentioned that already, and you might have guessed it, anyway. While I completely support the practice of sabbaticals, particularly when there's a research requirement for the faculty, I'm also struck by the throw-back feel to it. Traveling for sabbatical isn't, strictly speaking, required. But, understanding the universe (the task of the academic life, as I understand it) is necessarily a cooperative venture. If one wants to work with someone to push back the intellectual frontiers, it's just good manners to go where that person is. That traveling, then, either assumes the person is single or has a family willing to temporarily uproot themselves.
By the time you get to be my age (well past the traditional newly-minted PhD age), you've met plenty of academic families. And some have traveled here, there, and everywhere, with and without the children. "We home-schooled the kids that year because we were living in a tent in the mountains of Chile." "That was the year we spent in Thailand." Immediately, though, you notice that the traveling family has a non-academic partner whose job is either unusually flexible or comparatively unimportant in the family value system. S/he could quit it, travel with the family on sabbatical, and then find another job upon return. I don't have that kind of job, and I'm grateful for that. But I can't have it both ways.
Maybe my existential angst is just a consequence of my personal choices rather than of a slightly neanderthal sabbatical system. I continue, though, to chafe at a situation -whoever or whatever caused it- that requires us to live apart if we are both to take our life-paths seriously. Is this really our best effort at supporting both family and intellectual curiosity?
Secondly, I'm struck by the male/female differences I'm noticing in our little experiment of one. I'm a feminist married to a feminist, just to get that out there. Nonetheless, Dave decided the sabbatical was going to happen, and that it was going to involve travel on his part. He clearly couldn't decide how I was going to spend my time, but he was going to be gone. The family just needed to work around that. When I've been faced with a similar decision, I've found 1000 reasons why I shouldn't go, almost talked myself out of traveling many a time, and needed to be convinced to do it almost every time. It's not that I'm a timid traveler at all. It's that I don't want to burden the family with the consequences of my choices -even when they're clearly saying that they're not burdened and I should get the heck out of Dodge.
Nobody has put me in this second quandary but myself. It's just interesting that after all this time and all this thought and all this intention towards equality, we still come at these "family or work first" questions differently. Is our sense of entitlement different? Does it have anything at all to do with gender, or is it just a consequence of our different personalities?
I have no answers. I know, though, that I'm grateful that the situation isn't worse yet. We could well be one of those families who has to live apart for years, until jobs in each of the partner's fields become open in the same geographical area. How badly would that stink???
131 days left, but who's counting? Oh, that would be me.
And those are the problems the university has -which I care about, but only tangentially. We've been busy, as you know, trying to figure this out from the other side of the table. I had previously thought the two-body problem mostly affected young academics, particularly those searching for their first post-PhD jobs. My mistake.
As I've whined about repeatedly, Math-Man and I are living apart until August. He's on sabbatical -a sabbatical he deserved, needed, and, truth be told, kind of demanded. Moreover, he intended to travel for this sabbatical. I couldn't uproot my life here, so we're living apart and figuring it out.
I'm struck by a few things. It stinks. Oh wait. I think I've mentioned that already, and you might have guessed it, anyway. While I completely support the practice of sabbaticals, particularly when there's a research requirement for the faculty, I'm also struck by the throw-back feel to it. Traveling for sabbatical isn't, strictly speaking, required. But, understanding the universe (the task of the academic life, as I understand it) is necessarily a cooperative venture. If one wants to work with someone to push back the intellectual frontiers, it's just good manners to go where that person is. That traveling, then, either assumes the person is single or has a family willing to temporarily uproot themselves.
By the time you get to be my age (well past the traditional newly-minted PhD age), you've met plenty of academic families. And some have traveled here, there, and everywhere, with and without the children. "We home-schooled the kids that year because we were living in a tent in the mountains of Chile." "That was the year we spent in Thailand." Immediately, though, you notice that the traveling family has a non-academic partner whose job is either unusually flexible or comparatively unimportant in the family value system. S/he could quit it, travel with the family on sabbatical, and then find another job upon return. I don't have that kind of job, and I'm grateful for that. But I can't have it both ways.
Maybe my existential angst is just a consequence of my personal choices rather than of a slightly neanderthal sabbatical system. I continue, though, to chafe at a situation -whoever or whatever caused it- that requires us to live apart if we are both to take our life-paths seriously. Is this really our best effort at supporting both family and intellectual curiosity?
Secondly, I'm struck by the male/female differences I'm noticing in our little experiment of one. I'm a feminist married to a feminist, just to get that out there. Nonetheless, Dave decided the sabbatical was going to happen, and that it was going to involve travel on his part. He clearly couldn't decide how I was going to spend my time, but he was going to be gone. The family just needed to work around that. When I've been faced with a similar decision, I've found 1000 reasons why I shouldn't go, almost talked myself out of traveling many a time, and needed to be convinced to do it almost every time. It's not that I'm a timid traveler at all. It's that I don't want to burden the family with the consequences of my choices -even when they're clearly saying that they're not burdened and I should get the heck out of Dodge.
Nobody has put me in this second quandary but myself. It's just interesting that after all this time and all this thought and all this intention towards equality, we still come at these "family or work first" questions differently. Is our sense of entitlement different? Does it have anything at all to do with gender, or is it just a consequence of our different personalities?
I have no answers. I know, though, that I'm grateful that the situation isn't worse yet. We could well be one of those families who has to live apart for years, until jobs in each of the partner's fields become open in the same geographical area. How badly would that stink???
131 days left, but who's counting? Oh, that would be me.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Vagina? Scrotum? Wash My Mouth Out With Soap!
I'm a big fan of using powerful and appropriate language. I use the occasional big word, and people live to tell the tale -and sometimes even rise to the occasion. I admit to sometimes letting it rip in the swear words department. Yet here, too, I think of that as a failure of vocabulary and encourage myself and people around me to find words that are more, shall we say, precise. If I'm feeling feisty, I'll challenge sexist or racist jokes. I don't like it when people say things like "I'm so stupid". Their subconscious is listening, after all, and they're teaching it to believe such clearly false assertions. If I want to be grandiose about it, I feel like I'm standing up for something important when I defend the power of language. (It's entirely possible that I'm just being annoyingly pedantic. Please don't clue me in, if that's the case.)
But here's the thing. Conservatives know that language is powerful, too. And somehow, when we liberals weren't looking, they've taken over not just the terms of the discourse but MY language. Okay, not mine literally, but the language that regular people can use.
There's another children's book being pulled from library shelves: The Higher Power of Lucky by Susan Patron. This book commits the tragic error of using the word "scrotum", correctly and in context. The problem is.... what? Someone might have to explain to a child what a scrotum is? Because that would be a tragedy? Weirdly, the book (in the same paragraph, actually) refers to adults drinking enormous quantities of rum, while sitting in parked cars. That's not why parents are pressuring libraries to pull the book, it seems.
And then, three high school honors students were suspended for challenging the rule that they couldn't use the word "vagina" in their dramatic excerpt from The Vagina Monologues. They could use the Monologues, but were supposed to find a bit that didn't have the dreaded word. (Way to prove the whole point of the Monologues, but I digress!) This is a kind of civil disobedience issue. They broke a rule and there's a disciplinary action that they will have to face. The question is, why was it against the rule in the first place?
What horrible thing happens if children (and adults for that matter) learn and use the right words for genitalia? We'd have to admit to them that there's sex and reproduction? I'm thinking that high school students have figured out the general idea. And conservatives know that; they're conservative, not stupid.
Possibly the problem is that they want all things sexual to be absolutely private- governed, defined, described, experienced within the nuclear, traditional family. Talking about it in public, however clinically, blurs the public/private distinction that they want to pretend is very sharp.
The funny thing is that I have a nuclear family that they would be proud to have. One man, one woman, two children...what's not to love? (And I do love them, by the way!) But I'm here to tell you that sex is always political -even married sex ;) And it matters publicly, or we wouldn't have state-sanctioned marriage, laws against some kinds of sex, laws against some kinds of violence masquerading as sex...
It's a little hard to link that kind of "sex matters publicly" argument to children's books, for heaven's sake. But forcryingoutloud, the discourse has to start somewhere. And if we have to defend the practice of teaching children the anatomically correct names for body parts, we have sunk very far indeed.
But here's the thing. Conservatives know that language is powerful, too. And somehow, when we liberals weren't looking, they've taken over not just the terms of the discourse but MY language. Okay, not mine literally, but the language that regular people can use.
There's another children's book being pulled from library shelves: The Higher Power of Lucky by Susan Patron. This book commits the tragic error of using the word "scrotum", correctly and in context. The problem is.... what? Someone might have to explain to a child what a scrotum is? Because that would be a tragedy? Weirdly, the book (in the same paragraph, actually) refers to adults drinking enormous quantities of rum, while sitting in parked cars. That's not why parents are pressuring libraries to pull the book, it seems.
And then, three high school honors students were suspended for challenging the rule that they couldn't use the word "vagina" in their dramatic excerpt from The Vagina Monologues. They could use the Monologues, but were supposed to find a bit that didn't have the dreaded word. (Way to prove the whole point of the Monologues, but I digress!) This is a kind of civil disobedience issue. They broke a rule and there's a disciplinary action that they will have to face. The question is, why was it against the rule in the first place?
What horrible thing happens if children (and adults for that matter) learn and use the right words for genitalia? We'd have to admit to them that there's sex and reproduction? I'm thinking that high school students have figured out the general idea. And conservatives know that; they're conservative, not stupid.
Possibly the problem is that they want all things sexual to be absolutely private- governed, defined, described, experienced within the nuclear, traditional family. Talking about it in public, however clinically, blurs the public/private distinction that they want to pretend is very sharp.
The funny thing is that I have a nuclear family that they would be proud to have. One man, one woman, two children...what's not to love? (And I do love them, by the way!) But I'm here to tell you that sex is always political -even married sex ;) And it matters publicly, or we wouldn't have state-sanctioned marriage, laws against some kinds of sex, laws against some kinds of violence masquerading as sex...
It's a little hard to link that kind of "sex matters publicly" argument to children's books, for heaven's sake. But forcryingoutloud, the discourse has to start somewhere. And if we have to defend the practice of teaching children the anatomically correct names for body parts, we have sunk very far indeed.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Friday Random 10
You know the drill. Set your iPod to shuffle and tell us the first ten songs that appear. And no fair leaving out the ones that make you look like a dork. Here are mine for the week:
- A Country Dance/ Nonesuch; Trapezoid
- I'll Go Tell Elizabeth; Ken Medema
- O Praise Him; Dave Crowder Band
- Hungry Heart; Bruce Springsteen
- Message in a Bottle; Police (I think this one has to go.)
- Come On Home; Indigo Girls
- I Will Survive; Gloria Gaynor
- Calypso; John Denver
- De Ruada/A Herba de Namorar; Cabo do Mundo
- Take On Me; A-Ha (It's in a workout playlist.Stop laughing!)
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Generous Computing
As we've established, my brain is only wrapping around the simplest of ideas these days. (By the way, I will no longer wonder why mental health clients with clinical depression can hardly move. I am in no way clinically depressed. Chronically whining, yes. Technically depressed, no. And I can hardly think or generate energy for new projects. Patience. I will have more patience with other people's challenges!) Given my new and hopefully temporary limitations, I'm opting for a simple justice project today.
This one involves no work on my part. I'm thrilled. The computational power required to analyze some kinds of data, including molecules which need to be screened for cancer research, is massive. The United Devices Cancer Research Project is asking people to volunteer their PCs to help process molecular research being conducted by the Department of Chemistry at the University of Oxford in England and the National Foundation for Cancer Research. To participate, you simply download a very small, no cost, non-invasive software program that works like a screensaver; it runs when your computer isn't being used and processes research until you need your machine.
There is no impact on your computer use. The project software cannot detect or transfer anything on your machine except project-specific information. It just allows your computer to screen molecules that may be developed into drugs to fight cancer. Each individual computer analyzes a few molecules and then sends the results back for further research. This project is anticipated to be the largest computational chemistry project ever undertaken and represents a genuine hope to find a better way to fight cancer.
It's an interesting cooperative mechanism for research, a simple social justice idea, and easy to download and install. Let's go have a beer, while my computer works on saving lives ;)
This one involves no work on my part. I'm thrilled. The computational power required to analyze some kinds of data, including molecules which need to be screened for cancer research, is massive. The United Devices Cancer Research Project is asking people to volunteer their PCs to help process molecular research being conducted by the Department of Chemistry at the University of Oxford in England and the National Foundation for Cancer Research. To participate, you simply download a very small, no cost, non-invasive software program that works like a screensaver; it runs when your computer isn't being used and processes research until you need your machine.
There is no impact on your computer use. The project software cannot detect or transfer anything on your machine except project-specific information. It just allows your computer to screen molecules that may be developed into drugs to fight cancer. Each individual computer analyzes a few molecules and then sends the results back for further research. This project is anticipated to be the largest computational chemistry project ever undertaken and represents a genuine hope to find a better way to fight cancer.
It's an interesting cooperative mechanism for research, a simple social justice idea, and easy to download and install. Let's go have a beer, while my computer works on saving lives ;)
Tags: activism social justice
Monday, April 02, 2007
Lend Me Your Ear
Deafness and interpreting are on my mind because I dreamed in sign language last night. Even when I used sign language daily, I don't think that ever happened. Of course, it was a dream. Bone-headed mistakes don't matter so much in a dream! Then, PBS has a 2-hour special about deafness, Through Deaf Eyes. Since I don't have a television, I haven't seen it yet. It got good reviews, though, and it's on my list of things to track down. Then... (this gets weirder) my sister-in-law knows that I will be on the east coast during the graduation ceremonies of the high school where she teaches and has asked me to interpret the graduation. (There are no interpreters in New Jersey? But I appreciate the invitation -among other things because it puts me in the same state as Math-Man for the weekend.) And finally, I was asked to interpret the Palm Sunday liturgy yesterday. I couldn't do it, because I had already signed up to go on retreat, but still... the universe is clearly trying to tell me something.
Deafness raises some interesting issues about inclusion and social justice. We think of those two concepts as the same, or necessarily related, anyway. Ostracizing people is bad; including them must be a necessary first step toward treating people fairly. It seems obvious, but deaf people might disagree. The only symbol of the deaf community is sign language. There are no wheelchairs or canes to signal to us that the person walking down the street has special needs. There is deaf theater, music for the deaf, a body of literature.... This is a community, largely defined by the use of ASL -a language, by the way, that is almost not-masterable (I'm making up words this morning -a trick that works in sign language and less well in English. Sorry.) by people who can hear.
So, if inclusion means absorption into the dominant culture, then the deaf community will be lost. It's not going to last much longer, anyway, since there are fewer and fewer deaf children being born. (We picked up on the rubella/deafness link and took care of that.) In schools, deaf children are typically in the regular classroom but are signed to in English, rather than ASL. Signed Exact English is an unbearably complicated and clunky tool, but the law is that education happens in English. So, the children learn and practice this different language all day at school, their parents barely know it, and scorn it, to boot.
Sure, inclusion can mean that both cultures broaden. But how do we actually make that work when it's hard to talk to each other? I'm obviously stumped, but I think I'm supposed to be thinking about this.
And pretty clearly, I'm not supposed to be trying to intellectualize about it -because that's certainly getting me nowhere fast. So, what's a girl to do??
Deafness raises some interesting issues about inclusion and social justice. We think of those two concepts as the same, or necessarily related, anyway. Ostracizing people is bad; including them must be a necessary first step toward treating people fairly. It seems obvious, but deaf people might disagree. The only symbol of the deaf community is sign language. There are no wheelchairs or canes to signal to us that the person walking down the street has special needs. There is deaf theater, music for the deaf, a body of literature.... This is a community, largely defined by the use of ASL -a language, by the way, that is almost not-masterable (I'm making up words this morning -a trick that works in sign language and less well in English. Sorry.) by people who can hear.
So, if inclusion means absorption into the dominant culture, then the deaf community will be lost. It's not going to last much longer, anyway, since there are fewer and fewer deaf children being born. (We picked up on the rubella/deafness link and took care of that.) In schools, deaf children are typically in the regular classroom but are signed to in English, rather than ASL. Signed Exact English is an unbearably complicated and clunky tool, but the law is that education happens in English. So, the children learn and practice this different language all day at school, their parents barely know it, and scorn it, to boot.
Sure, inclusion can mean that both cultures broaden. But how do we actually make that work when it's hard to talk to each other? I'm obviously stumped, but I think I'm supposed to be thinking about this.
And pretty clearly, I'm not supposed to be trying to intellectualize about it -because that's certainly getting me nowhere fast. So, what's a girl to do??
Sunday, April 01, 2007
The Bishop and the Whopper
Not the "do you want fries with that?" kind of whopper. The "go to confession immediately" kind of whopper.
A few months ago, I blogged about Bishop Bruskewitz, Call to Action's excommunication in his diocese, and the Vatican's upholding of the excommunication. You can go here to read it: Mala Lex; Nula Lex. It's a certainty, though, that other people have written about the circumstances more powerfully.
But here's the news. The Bishop ...ummmm..... misrepresented, shall we say.... the Vatican's decision. Call to Action members finally received a copy of the appeal decision, and contrary to the Bishop's claims, the Vatican has not endorsed the attempted excommunication. They didn't rescind it either, though.
Here's what did happen. The Apostolic Signatura wants to define the attempted excommunication as a "local legislative action" which means that they can render no decision at all. Instead, CTA needs to appeal to the Pontifical Council for the Interpretation of Legislative Texts. (Who knew that there were so many #$()* councils and judicial bodies? You don't suppose they do this on purpose to make appeals prohibitively burdensome, do you?)
So, Cardinal Re's opinion on the subject is no more legally binding under the circumstances than mine is. I am so very not a canon lawyer, but it looks to me like the decision as to how to classify the appeal could go either way. It could be a decision regarding "administrative acts of ordinaries and dicasteries (including penal cases decided without using a court)," which would put it within the purview of the Signatura. Or it could be seen as "interpreting the laws of the Church", which would put it with Legislative Texts. By moving the decision, however, the Signatura has bumped the importance of the decision rather noticeably down the hierarchical ladder.
I'm not sure what difference that makes. Nor am I sure that this body will be any more inclined to make a sensible and just decision. Bishop John Myers serves on the Council, I'm pretty sure, and that can't be good news. Nonetheless, I am sure that Bishop Bruskewitz misrepresented the actual decision to his diocese and to the rest of the world, in the press. I wonder what kind of penalties there are for that?
I continue to admire the tenacity and faith of these Catholics in a sad diocese, who stand so steadfastly for justice. My prayers are with all of you.
A few months ago, I blogged about Bishop Bruskewitz, Call to Action's excommunication in his diocese, and the Vatican's upholding of the excommunication. You can go here to read it: Mala Lex; Nula Lex. It's a certainty, though, that other people have written about the circumstances more powerfully.
But here's the news. The Bishop ...ummmm..... misrepresented, shall we say.... the Vatican's decision. Call to Action members finally received a copy of the appeal decision, and contrary to the Bishop's claims, the Vatican has not endorsed the attempted excommunication. They didn't rescind it either, though.
Here's what did happen. The Apostolic Signatura wants to define the attempted excommunication as a "local legislative action" which means that they can render no decision at all. Instead, CTA needs to appeal to the Pontifical Council for the Interpretation of Legislative Texts. (Who knew that there were so many #$()* councils and judicial bodies? You don't suppose they do this on purpose to make appeals prohibitively burdensome, do you?)
So, Cardinal Re's opinion on the subject is no more legally binding under the circumstances than mine is. I am so very not a canon lawyer, but it looks to me like the decision as to how to classify the appeal could go either way. It could be a decision regarding "administrative acts of ordinaries and dicasteries (including penal cases decided without using a court)," which would put it within the purview of the Signatura. Or it could be seen as "interpreting the laws of the Church", which would put it with Legislative Texts. By moving the decision, however, the Signatura has bumped the importance of the decision rather noticeably down the hierarchical ladder.
I'm not sure what difference that makes. Nor am I sure that this body will be any more inclined to make a sensible and just decision. Bishop John Myers serves on the Council, I'm pretty sure, and that can't be good news. Nonetheless, I am sure that Bishop Bruskewitz misrepresented the actual decision to his diocese and to the rest of the world, in the press. I wonder what kind of penalties there are for that?
I continue to admire the tenacity and faith of these Catholics in a sad diocese, who stand so steadfastly for justice. My prayers are with all of you.
Tags: Catholicism
Saturday, March 31, 2007
Music to Knit By
I did tell you that I was going to be boring, right? Today was my once a month (or so) day to teach people to knit and crochet and play with string. My standard line "It's STRING and two sticks. You are smarter that it is. Trust me." I naturally had my beloved MamaPod with me, but I need a knitting playlist. Here's what I came up with, on the fly.
Got better ideas?
- The Old Spinning Wheel; Edward James Richard
- This Hill is Filled with Children; That Guitar Man (only because it was mentioned on Cast On a long time ago, and I liked it
- Before I Go; Yanni (kind of embarrassing, but it's calm -and the title sounds a bit like "Just let me finish this row". Ever said that???
- Live and Learn; The Cardigans
- Silver Threads; Peter, Paul, and Mary
- Oh Had I a Golden Thread; Judy Collins
- Sound of the Looms: Anne Hills
- Silken Dreams; Anne Hills
- The Goofing Off Suite; Tony Trischka Band
- Knitting Bee; The Cubby Creatures
- Knitting Factory; Emiko
- U.S. Knitting: Momus
- Knitting and Knitting: The Swims
- Knitting for Pleasure: Palomar
- Knitting Song; Rainbow Chasers
- Plenty is Never Enough; Tenement Halls
- Knot Knitting: cinc
- Knitting Buddha: Kamile Kapel
- Knitting Front: Chris Chalfant
- Knitting Circle; The Low Country Messiahs
- I've Got the World on a String: Frank Sinatra
- I Guess Things Happen that Way; Raul Malo
- World Hold On; Bob Sinclair
Got better ideas?
Friday, March 30, 2007
Friday Random Ten
You know the drill. Set your iPod to shuffle and tell us the first ten songs that appear. And no fair leaving out the ones that make you look like a dork. here are mine for the week:
- A Woman's Heart; Celtic Connection
- I Am a Rock; Simon and Garfunkel
- Wildwood; Emmylou Harris and Iris DeMent
- Mitwa; Udit Narayan
- Happiness Runs; Donovan (oh, my!)
- Except for Mondays; Lorrie Morgan (VERY country, but I love it anyway!)
- She Talks to Angels; Hootie and the Blowfish
- Sweet Dreams; Emmylou Harris
- Ya Salam; Nancy Ajram (pretty fun!)
- Time After Time; Cyndi Lauper
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Great Firewall of China
Hat tip to VirusHead for this one. (How DO you find such cool things??? You probably know where to get your hair cut too, and then I'll have to hate you, for sure!)
My blog is blocked in China. (For all I know all of blogspot is blocked. Or maybe anything that tags posts as "human rights" or "activism" or some such thing is blocked.) Check here to see if yours is, too.
My blog is blocked in China. (For all I know all of blogspot is blocked. Or maybe anything that tags posts as "human rights" or "activism" or some such thing is blocked.) Check here to see if yours is, too.
Tags: activism
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Dear Me
Things I know now I wish I'd known when I was 25...
Sweetie....
Your body is young and beautiful and strong. Love it. Don't fret about it, but that body is going to visit all kinds of troubles upon you. Had you not been young and strong... well, you'd be chatting with Achilles trying to decide if the short and glorious life really had been all it was cracked up to be. It sees you through.
Dave is as good as he looks. You could give the guy a break and stop testing him every which way. But even if you don't stop (which I happen to know, you don't), he'll stick. You could do a little more to deserve him, I suppose.
Stop squandering your chances. It's the worst kind of waste. Put on your big girl pants and claim some of these opportunities.
Good things await you. A husband whose eyes sparkle when he's got a naughty idea. Beautiful healthy children who actually like you. Solid relationships with your multitudinous siblings, who are weirdly different from you and yet eerily similar.
There are things you get really good at. I know you think it won't happen, but it does. Your path takes a long time to unfold before you, but it does show up. It wouldn't hurt to pay a little more attention. The kids distract you, but that's more because you're afraid than because they need you. (Well, they do need you, and you turn out to be a good mother... but you also hide behind them. Knock it off.)
You know what? Spend more time on you. Stake a claim. Take up some space on the planet. And if you forget, or lack the courage at 25 (which I happen to know, you do) then do it as soon as you notice. Leave fear behind.
Now.... what would my 70 year old self write to my 48 year old self?????
Sweetie....
Your body is young and beautiful and strong. Love it. Don't fret about it, but that body is going to visit all kinds of troubles upon you. Had you not been young and strong... well, you'd be chatting with Achilles trying to decide if the short and glorious life really had been all it was cracked up to be. It sees you through.
Dave is as good as he looks. You could give the guy a break and stop testing him every which way. But even if you don't stop (which I happen to know, you don't), he'll stick. You could do a little more to deserve him, I suppose.
Stop squandering your chances. It's the worst kind of waste. Put on your big girl pants and claim some of these opportunities.
Good things await you. A husband whose eyes sparkle when he's got a naughty idea. Beautiful healthy children who actually like you. Solid relationships with your multitudinous siblings, who are weirdly different from you and yet eerily similar.
There are things you get really good at. I know you think it won't happen, but it does. Your path takes a long time to unfold before you, but it does show up. It wouldn't hurt to pay a little more attention. The kids distract you, but that's more because you're afraid than because they need you. (Well, they do need you, and you turn out to be a good mother... but you also hide behind them. Knock it off.)
You know what? Spend more time on you. Stake a claim. Take up some space on the planet. And if you forget, or lack the courage at 25 (which I happen to know, you do) then do it as soon as you notice. Leave fear behind.
Now.... what would my 70 year old self write to my 48 year old self?????
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Breathe In, Breathe Out, Move On
Oh holy crap. I'm tired of myself. I find that I have nothing to say. Who would ever have thought that I'd say that?
I know that Ann Coulter is on a rampage about liberals. I don't care. The 4th anniversary of the war in Iraq has passed. I care, but have nothing to add to the hand-wringing and despair. People are being executed. We're still polluting the planet. Priests are still inflicting pain on children and other parishioners. I care -but only sort of. I do my work -but only sort of. My house hasn't seen the appropriate end of a dust mop in more time than I want to admit. What is WRONG with me????
I've decided that the only place where my whining shuts the #_)$ up is on my yoga mat. It certainly doesn't happen at church, which would be the other likely choice. Living alone has not brought out the best in me. Oh, you noticed, did you???? Well, it would be hard not to. I can get on a real rampage about how pathetic I am -that I don't know what to do when the car makes that noise, when the dryer won't dry, when there's a picture to be hung, when there's company that I want and don't have.
But yoga focuses on what is right with me. You can't sort of hang a picture or sort of dry clothes, but you can sort of do triangle pose (or whatever). There are modifications that work with whatever your body offers today. And since I can't see myself do yoga, I fondly imagine that I look like Shiva Rea or Desiree Rumbaugh. (Delusions R Us!)
So... maybe what yoga teaches me is that I need to modify my world so that I can live fully in it. I don't know how to do that, but I need to do SOMETHING. So I'm giving myself permission to create boring blog posts for a little while. Perhaps my brain and compassion and my ability to take someone else's perspective on injustice just need some props and assistance before they can fly on their own again.
Now, if only those props were available at amazon or Target, like my yoga props.... Alas, no.
I know that Ann Coulter is on a rampage about liberals. I don't care. The 4th anniversary of the war in Iraq has passed. I care, but have nothing to add to the hand-wringing and despair. People are being executed. We're still polluting the planet. Priests are still inflicting pain on children and other parishioners. I care -but only sort of. I do my work -but only sort of. My house hasn't seen the appropriate end of a dust mop in more time than I want to admit. What is WRONG with me????
I've decided that the only place where my whining shuts the #_)$ up is on my yoga mat. It certainly doesn't happen at church, which would be the other likely choice. Living alone has not brought out the best in me. Oh, you noticed, did you???? Well, it would be hard not to. I can get on a real rampage about how pathetic I am -that I don't know what to do when the car makes that noise, when the dryer won't dry, when there's a picture to be hung, when there's company that I want and don't have.
But yoga focuses on what is right with me. You can't sort of hang a picture or sort of dry clothes, but you can sort of do triangle pose (or whatever). There are modifications that work with whatever your body offers today. And since I can't see myself do yoga, I fondly imagine that I look like Shiva Rea or Desiree Rumbaugh. (Delusions R Us!)
So... maybe what yoga teaches me is that I need to modify my world so that I can live fully in it. I don't know how to do that, but I need to do SOMETHING. So I'm giving myself permission to create boring blog posts for a little while. Perhaps my brain and compassion and my ability to take someone else's perspective on injustice just need some props and assistance before they can fly on their own again.
Now, if only those props were available at amazon or Target, like my yoga props.... Alas, no.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Fighting Fair
| You Fight Fair |
 For you, a fight is not about proving you're right. Instead, it's about discussing and resolving difficult issues. You don't look for fights, but you don't avoid them either. You realize that clearing the air is good, when you go about it the right way. |
Do You Fight Fair?
Well, little wonder, I suppose. I teach this stuff, for crying out loud. Nonetheless, I'm always surprised by the tragically low level of conflict transformation skills, even among very, very smart people. My first five minutes of internet access ought to have convinced me that there is plenty of work to be done in this department. But, alas, I also score high on tests of "insane and contra-indicated optimism".
So, why do we care here? Conflict transformation demands that we consider why we do this work. What are we hoping to contribute and build? If human societies are to move toward their potential for just and creative relationships, we need to replace patterns of violence and coercion with respect, creative problem-solving, increased dialogue, and nonviolent mechanisms for social change. So, the next time you pick up a dropped sock that has been there three days and was dropped by a person with several advanced degrees and who knows perfectly well how to bend over and pick it up himself (just... you know... hypothetically), remember that dealing well even with things such as this, does in fact change the world.
Well, little wonder, I suppose. I teach this stuff, for crying out loud. Nonetheless, I'm always surprised by the tragically low level of conflict transformation skills, even among very, very smart people. My first five minutes of internet access ought to have convinced me that there is plenty of work to be done in this department. But, alas, I also score high on tests of "insane and contra-indicated optimism".
So, why do we care here? Conflict transformation demands that we consider why we do this work. What are we hoping to contribute and build? If human societies are to move toward their potential for just and creative relationships, we need to replace patterns of violence and coercion with respect, creative problem-solving, increased dialogue, and nonviolent mechanisms for social change. So, the next time you pick up a dropped sock that has been there three days and was dropped by a person with several advanced degrees and who knows perfectly well how to bend over and pick it up himself (just... you know... hypothetically), remember that dealing well even with things such as this, does in fact change the world.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Friday Random 10
You know the drill. Take out your iPod and set it to shuffle mode. Tell us the first ten songs that appear -and no fair leaving out the ones that make you look like a dork. Here are mine for the week:
- *Breakaway; Kelly Clarkson (which is from the soundtrack of The Princess Diaries, so we're off to an embarrassing start!)
- *By My Side; Godspell
- *The Magi; Peter, Paul & Mary
- *Yes We Can Can; Allen Toussaint
- *I Feel Lucky; Mary Chapin Carpenter
- *Come, Baby Come; Elvis Crespo (I'm thinking all kinds of bad things re: the juxtaposition of these last two songs. But I will behave!)
- *Thank Heavens for Little Girls; Maurice Chevalier
- *Why Don't We Get Drunk?; Jimmy Buffett (Ok, I'm officially embarrassed.)
- *Homebird; Foy Vance
- *Hey There, Lonely Girl; The Stylistics
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Blog Resurrection??!!
I was beginning to think that I had run out of things to say. (I know... alert the press!) Or, barring that miracle, perhaps I had just run out of blogging oomph; it happens every day to better blogs than mine. But no. I've isolated the problem.
We have now established the upper bound for the endurable amount of time spent away from marital...ummm.... comforts. And believe me, the upper bound -the absolute maximum amount of time possible- was about three days ago. If I get any crankier, more disorganized, or wound up any tighter, the people in town are going to take up a collection and buy me a plane ticket to go visit my husband. They'll be thinking of it as enlightened self-interest. Get this girl out of town and out of our way!!!
But there's a respite in sight. Dave will be home for spring break (and our daughter's 25th birthday), starting Saturday night. I have accumulated a shamefully long list of things I either haven't wanted to do, don't know how to do, am too short to do, or have lost all patience with and just decided that he could jolly well do things around here rather than stroll the groves of academe and have the graduate students drop peeled grapes into his mouth.
Did I mention I'm crabby???
But it's going to be so nice to have two people to deal with the trials and tribulations of daily life. I'm a nice, competent girl (when I'm not... you know... on a flaming TEAR!) but it's exhausting to do everything alone.
And acknowledging that humbling fact leads me right back to the blogging project. The sad fact is that the world is still in need of a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens. Not the blog so much, but the actual thoughtful citizens. I have no illusions that this blog will accomplish much at all. Really I don't. But I do think that it's important to get in the game. And stay in the game. Play until the end. The world needs us and we need each other.
So I'm back at it. I will write. I will think about issues of social justice. And I will totally welcome and be grateful for your comments.
But it will NOT be a funny practical joke for anyone to call at odd hours of the evening while Dave is here. Trust me. We'll be busy ;)
We have now established the upper bound for the endurable amount of time spent away from marital...ummm.... comforts. And believe me, the upper bound -the absolute maximum amount of time possible- was about three days ago. If I get any crankier, more disorganized, or wound up any tighter, the people in town are going to take up a collection and buy me a plane ticket to go visit my husband. They'll be thinking of it as enlightened self-interest. Get this girl out of town and out of our way!!!
But there's a respite in sight. Dave will be home for spring break (and our daughter's 25th birthday), starting Saturday night. I have accumulated a shamefully long list of things I either haven't wanted to do, don't know how to do, am too short to do, or have lost all patience with and just decided that he could jolly well do things around here rather than stroll the groves of academe and have the graduate students drop peeled grapes into his mouth.
Did I mention I'm crabby???
But it's going to be so nice to have two people to deal with the trials and tribulations of daily life. I'm a nice, competent girl (when I'm not... you know... on a flaming TEAR!) but it's exhausting to do everything alone.
And acknowledging that humbling fact leads me right back to the blogging project. The sad fact is that the world is still in need of a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens. Not the blog so much, but the actual thoughtful citizens. I have no illusions that this blog will accomplish much at all. Really I don't. But I do think that it's important to get in the game. And stay in the game. Play until the end. The world needs us and we need each other.
So I'm back at it. I will write. I will think about issues of social justice. And I will totally welcome and be grateful for your comments.
But it will NOT be a funny practical joke for anyone to call at odd hours of the evening while Dave is here. Trust me. We'll be busy ;)
Monday, February 26, 2007
How Many Deaths Will It Take Till He Knows....
...that too many people have died?
According to U.S. Military Deaths, 3157 U.S. military personnel have died in Iraq since the March, 2003 invasion. Mission accomplished, indeed. If you want to add in Iraqi deaths, then the body count is, according to Iraq Body Count, at least 57,000. Well, aren't we just a force for good in the world????
So, we have the same question we always have. How do we build peace in a time of perpetual war? All the old suggestions still work; try here and here. But surely there's more.
I've been traveling a lot lately, and the airports are busy with men and women coming from or going to Iraq. On my most recent trip, there were massive delays everywhere, and people were stuck for hours on end. I was sitting on the floor next to a strikingly handsome young man on his way home from Baghdad. He's about my son's age, so probably the inverse is true too; I'm about his mother's age. He'd been traveling for 39 hours when the next-to-last flight was canceled. He knew his mother was waiting for him at the airport, and he couldn't bear to be disappointing her. He started to cry.
He'd just reached the end of his psychological resources, that's all. It was a hard day at the airport, and people were melting down everywhere you looked. And I'm a mom. Of course I had a tissue and a phone, so he could call his mom, and the USO rep came to scoop him up pretty soon, anyway. So all is well there. But... seriously... these soldiers are YOUNG, and they've seen and done horrible things. This man now describes himself as a former patriot. How sad is that??? It would be interesting if veterans could be invited to speak at local churches or service organizations. We have a lot to learn from them.
And what about a study circle? I'm showing my biases -again- but I really do believe that education and knowledge are power. And I need to learn more about Iran, especially. I wish I didn't, but apparently I do.
And I can offer you the morning prayer that my favorite group of cause-y, proudly liberal nuns prays every morning:
Namaste
According to U.S. Military Deaths, 3157 U.S. military personnel have died in Iraq since the March, 2003 invasion. Mission accomplished, indeed. If you want to add in Iraqi deaths, then the body count is, according to Iraq Body Count, at least 57,000. Well, aren't we just a force for good in the world????
So, we have the same question we always have. How do we build peace in a time of perpetual war? All the old suggestions still work; try here and here. But surely there's more.
I've been traveling a lot lately, and the airports are busy with men and women coming from or going to Iraq. On my most recent trip, there were massive delays everywhere, and people were stuck for hours on end. I was sitting on the floor next to a strikingly handsome young man on his way home from Baghdad. He's about my son's age, so probably the inverse is true too; I'm about his mother's age. He'd been traveling for 39 hours when the next-to-last flight was canceled. He knew his mother was waiting for him at the airport, and he couldn't bear to be disappointing her. He started to cry.
He'd just reached the end of his psychological resources, that's all. It was a hard day at the airport, and people were melting down everywhere you looked. And I'm a mom. Of course I had a tissue and a phone, so he could call his mom, and the USO rep came to scoop him up pretty soon, anyway. So all is well there. But... seriously... these soldiers are YOUNG, and they've seen and done horrible things. This man now describes himself as a former patriot. How sad is that??? It would be interesting if veterans could be invited to speak at local churches or service organizations. We have a lot to learn from them.
And what about a study circle? I'm showing my biases -again- but I really do believe that education and knowledge are power. And I need to learn more about Iran, especially. I wish I didn't, but apparently I do.
And I can offer you the morning prayer that my favorite group of cause-y, proudly liberal nuns prays every morning:
O Lord,
you love justice and you establish peace on earth.
We bring before you the disunity of today’s world -
the absurd violence; the many wars
breaking the courage of the peoples of the world;
human greed and injustice,
which breed hatred and strife.
Send your spirit and renew the face of the earth;
teach us to be compassionate towards the whole human family;
strengthen the will of all those
who fight for justice and for peace,
and give us that peace which the world cannot give.
Namaste
Friday, February 23, 2007
Friday Random 10
You know the drill. Take out your iPod and set it to shuffle. Tell us the first ten songs that appear -and no fair leaving out the ones that make you look like a dork.
Here are mine for the week:
Tags: Friday Random 10 playlists iPod
Here are mine for the week:
- Take Five (original version); Dave Brubeck Quartet
- Powerful Women; Elena
- Ave Maria; Gounod
- Still On Your Side; BBMak
- Naughty Girl; Beyonce (Oh, God. Well, this is proof that I don't edit these lists.)
- One Week; Barenaked Ladies
- A Simple Prayer: Phil Coulter and Roma Downey
- Adagio from Oboe Concerto in D Minor; Bach via Heinz Holliger
- Imagine That; Patsy Cline
- Lord I Hope this Day is Good; Don Williams
Tags: Friday Random 10 playlists iPod
Monday, February 19, 2007
Happy Birthday, Thomas!
A year ago, I posted this picture: 
Here's our little medical miracle-nephew, Thomas the magnificent, on his first birthday:
Is he just the cutest, sweetest thing EVER???? (Well, with the possible exception of Victoria and Nicholas. But you know... these days, I am NOT going to kiss their sweet little toes, so Thomas is better in that regard!) Happy, happy day, dear one!
Here's our little medical miracle-nephew, Thomas the magnificent, on his first birthday:
Is he just the cutest, sweetest thing EVER???? (Well, with the possible exception of Victoria and Nicholas. But you know... these days, I am NOT going to kiss their sweet little toes, so Thomas is better in that regard!) Happy, happy day, dear one!
Friday, February 16, 2007
Friday Random 10
It's been forever since I've done this. You know the drill. Take out your iPod, set it to shuffle mode. Tell us the first ten songs that appear. And no fair leaving out the ones that make you look like a dork.
Here are mine for the week:
- I Don't Like Mondays; Tori Amos
- Where there is Faith; 4Him
- Cursum Perficio; Enya
- Entrance of the Queen of Sheba; Handel -geez, why is that here?
- WalMart Parking Lot; Chris Cagle -embarrassing, but really it's not a bad song
- Tranquility; Phil Coulter
- Summer in the City; Three Dog Night (oh my!)
- Hurricane Party; Cowboy Mouth
- Doublin'; Si Kahn with the Fright Hoppers
- The Girl with the Flaxen Hair; Debussy
Tags: Friday Random 10
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Run Mad as often as You Choose...
...but do not faint!
OK, maybe that's not the exact quote. I'm not near my copy of Mansfield Park, but I love, love, love that thought. What's an all-alone feminist supposed to do on Valentine's Day, besides curl up with a good book and a glass of wine? I could whine, but even I'm tired of that. Instead, I keep coming back to Austen/Fanny Price's thought. Isn't this what we want for the people we love -to have them be strong, joyful, and fully alive? I could wrap my brain around a day that celebrates THAT!
So, yeah, I like flowers and chocolates and dinners out and long gazes over glasses of wine. I like those things a LOT. But what I like even more than that is the idea that loving someone -not just eros-love, but agape-love and all the other kinds, too- means knowing someone, really seeing them, and celebrating who they are. Let people flower in relationships.
So, dear ones.... run mad and do not faint. And here are some flowers:
OK, maybe that's not the exact quote. I'm not near my copy of Mansfield Park, but I love, love, love that thought. What's an all-alone feminist supposed to do on Valentine's Day, besides curl up with a good book and a glass of wine? I could whine, but even I'm tired of that. Instead, I keep coming back to Austen/Fanny Price's thought. Isn't this what we want for the people we love -to have them be strong, joyful, and fully alive? I could wrap my brain around a day that celebrates THAT!
So, yeah, I like flowers and chocolates and dinners out and long gazes over glasses of wine. I like those things a LOT. But what I like even more than that is the idea that loving someone -not just eros-love, but agape-love and all the other kinds, too- means knowing someone, really seeing them, and celebrating who they are. Let people flower in relationships.
So, dear ones.... run mad and do not faint. And here are some flowers:
Monday, February 12, 2007
We're Thinking Too Small
Which is not usually my problem, I must confess. Usually I'm the one coming up with grandiose, nonsensical schemes that couldn't possibly be implemented. Like, save the world. And then we'll go out for coffee, because we should be done by noon. But this time, I'm guilty of thinking too small.
I meet kids who need help, real live individuals with stories and hopes and pain, and I want to help THIS PARTICULAR PERSON. That's not a bad thing, and there's a place for that. But this is not that time and place.
There are laws against child labor almost everywhere. The laws, of course, don't guarantee that it doesn't happen, but they do express something about the will of the body politic. So, if there's a law against slavery and it's happening anyway, maybe the government needs to be held accountable. A nationwide education campaign, eliminate the umpteen exemptions that allow children to be employed in all kinds of businesses. Comply with the standards for industry inspection. Keep track of the people who've been fined for non-compliance with child labor laws, so they don't just start up business again somewhere else. Why aren't those things happening?
And bigger still.... the World Bank could get into the act and start scrutinizing its grant and loan recipients for compliance with child labor laws. They could provide funding for NGOs that offer alternatives to families and children.
Consumers (you, me, us) should look at the goods they buy with a more critical eye. Silk... carpets...silver...leather... be careful.
It's one thing to stage raids on charlatan employers and rescue children; in the short term it must be done. But I really have to look past the pain of individuals and work with the people advocating more systemic change. Suck it up, put on my big-girl pants, and go talk with people who can improve things for children I didn't meet.
I meet kids who need help, real live individuals with stories and hopes and pain, and I want to help THIS PARTICULAR PERSON. That's not a bad thing, and there's a place for that. But this is not that time and place.
There are laws against child labor almost everywhere. The laws, of course, don't guarantee that it doesn't happen, but they do express something about the will of the body politic. So, if there's a law against slavery and it's happening anyway, maybe the government needs to be held accountable. A nationwide education campaign, eliminate the umpteen exemptions that allow children to be employed in all kinds of businesses. Comply with the standards for industry inspection. Keep track of the people who've been fined for non-compliance with child labor laws, so they don't just start up business again somewhere else. Why aren't those things happening?
And bigger still.... the World Bank could get into the act and start scrutinizing its grant and loan recipients for compliance with child labor laws. They could provide funding for NGOs that offer alternatives to families and children.
Consumers (you, me, us) should look at the goods they buy with a more critical eye. Silk... carpets...silver...leather... be careful.
It's one thing to stage raids on charlatan employers and rescue children; in the short term it must be done. But I really have to look past the pain of individuals and work with the people advocating more systemic change. Suck it up, put on my big-girl pants, and go talk with people who can improve things for children I didn't meet.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
More International Social Work
I'm sorry to be posting so sporadically. I'm a slug, that's all there is to it.
Here's where we are now along the questioning/figuring it out continuum. A heckuva lot closer to the questioning end of things, that's where. As I've mentioned here before, you have kids being sold into what amounts to a (very short) life of slavery. Let's just stipulate that their parents want something very different for them. And the parents want it badly enough that they will flee rural Indian life and form these bizarre squatter cities, which work, for all practical purposes. People become un-find-able and yet manage to live interesting, full, connected lives. On some level, I should do so well.
And yet.... the vulnerabilities are terrifying. And not just to me, who can be terrified by standing water in the basement. Should there be a disaster, there will be no access to services. And not because disaster responders refuse to serve the unacknowledged. We won't know they're there. And kids grow up with the catch-as-catch can education that the elders in the neighborhood can provide. They aren't paying taxes for anything else, after all. These same elders know that this is not good enough.
So, we started with education. It's measurable. The need is immediate, as opposed to some might-never-happen scenario. And education creates hope for the next generation. As much as I love disaster services, all we do is get things back to their previous state. Which might have been reprehensible. Yet, that's the very definition of disaster services -to return things to their pre-disaster state.
But here's the thing. Somehow the income that the child generated has to be replaced -or the need for it eliminated. And the school has to be accessible. And affordable. So, the idea becomes (and not a new one with us, of course) mobile schools. Bring the schools to the kids. They can still work; school comes to them.
Assume, for the sake of argument, that we'll figure out the details. (Further assume that you have a wild and hopeful imagination.) These mobile schools have to be on the order of tablets and books on a bicycle cart. (I think so, anyway.) What role does technology play in this kind of service delivery?
I'm stunned at how much is required. And none of it (or astoundingly little) will be available to-or needed by- the consumers of the service. What are we educating people for? Jobs? More education? (my personal favorite!) A way out of grinding poverty? The answer to that question determines what the curriculum should be. And who decides that? Who monitors that? Why monitor that at all? It can hardly be worse than what they currently have.
Once you have those answers, you get right away to the "how" bit. What technologies are reasonably available? Should the planning, in fact, work the other way? We have thus-and-such technology available. Let's let that constrain the pedagogical choices.
This is the stuff that keeps me awake at nights. Weird, but true. But it's not hard to see that if teachers (on their bicycles, with their tablets) had access to each other (social networking? cell phones?) they could coordinate, plan, mentor, collaborate. If researchers had access to the teachers, we could find out what works and what doesn't. In the unspeakable luxury of our offices, we could spare the time, in a way the providers just plain can't, to think about what's working and what's not. Technology could speed the results of that process, to the point where it might actually be useful. What a thought.
And of course, education isn't the only thing these children and families need. These biker-teachers are going to notice that. How do we get food to the kids? Do we/should we help people thrive in their rural villages so they don't have to move to these urban squatter communities? Should we muck around with these new urban communities so that they're safer, or will we just end up making things worse?
As with all good questions, one answer generates about a thousand more questions. Too bad there are actual desperate children waiting for us to figure it out. The poor dears.
Here's where we are now along the questioning/figuring it out continuum. A heckuva lot closer to the questioning end of things, that's where. As I've mentioned here before, you have kids being sold into what amounts to a (very short) life of slavery. Let's just stipulate that their parents want something very different for them. And the parents want it badly enough that they will flee rural Indian life and form these bizarre squatter cities, which work, for all practical purposes. People become un-find-able and yet manage to live interesting, full, connected lives. On some level, I should do so well.
And yet.... the vulnerabilities are terrifying. And not just to me, who can be terrified by standing water in the basement. Should there be a disaster, there will be no access to services. And not because disaster responders refuse to serve the unacknowledged. We won't know they're there. And kids grow up with the catch-as-catch can education that the elders in the neighborhood can provide. They aren't paying taxes for anything else, after all. These same elders know that this is not good enough.
So, we started with education. It's measurable. The need is immediate, as opposed to some might-never-happen scenario. And education creates hope for the next generation. As much as I love disaster services, all we do is get things back to their previous state. Which might have been reprehensible. Yet, that's the very definition of disaster services -to return things to their pre-disaster state.
But here's the thing. Somehow the income that the child generated has to be replaced -or the need for it eliminated. And the school has to be accessible. And affordable. So, the idea becomes (and not a new one with us, of course) mobile schools. Bring the schools to the kids. They can still work; school comes to them.
Assume, for the sake of argument, that we'll figure out the details. (Further assume that you have a wild and hopeful imagination.) These mobile schools have to be on the order of tablets and books on a bicycle cart. (I think so, anyway.) What role does technology play in this kind of service delivery?
I'm stunned at how much is required. And none of it (or astoundingly little) will be available to-or needed by- the consumers of the service. What are we educating people for? Jobs? More education? (my personal favorite!) A way out of grinding poverty? The answer to that question determines what the curriculum should be. And who decides that? Who monitors that? Why monitor that at all? It can hardly be worse than what they currently have.
Once you have those answers, you get right away to the "how" bit. What technologies are reasonably available? Should the planning, in fact, work the other way? We have thus-and-such technology available. Let's let that constrain the pedagogical choices.
This is the stuff that keeps me awake at nights. Weird, but true. But it's not hard to see that if teachers (on their bicycles, with their tablets) had access to each other (social networking? cell phones?) they could coordinate, plan, mentor, collaborate. If researchers had access to the teachers, we could find out what works and what doesn't. In the unspeakable luxury of our offices, we could spare the time, in a way the providers just plain can't, to think about what's working and what's not. Technology could speed the results of that process, to the point where it might actually be useful. What a thought.
And of course, education isn't the only thing these children and families need. These biker-teachers are going to notice that. How do we get food to the kids? Do we/should we help people thrive in their rural villages so they don't have to move to these urban squatter communities? Should we muck around with these new urban communities so that they're safer, or will we just end up making things worse?
As with all good questions, one answer generates about a thousand more questions. Too bad there are actual desperate children waiting for us to figure it out. The poor dears.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
A Few Small Repairs
The blue changes nothing; I just like it better than the green. And in the meantime I've lost some links and some scripts. They're here somewhere....
What I really want is a three-column layout and blogspot doesn't seem to have that. So, we make do. Stay tuned.
What I really want is a three-column layout and blogspot doesn't seem to have that. So, we make do. Stay tuned.
Tags: blogging
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Mental Illness and Metaphor
Here's the back story, to get you caught up. Hanging out with a group of Indian women, I met their children. One little boy is clearly autistic, in the classic "no social affect" way. This interests me not so much for professional reasons -since I know very little about it and can't help, anyway- but for personal reasons. I know some autistic little boys fairly well, so the situation catches my attention.
You also have to know that my Hindi skills are beyond woeful (much closer to nonexistent than merely woeful, truth be told), so when I ask about this I stumble on the word for "autism". As courteous people will, the mother supplied the word -"deaf." He's clearly not deaf. He doesn't respond to people, so much, but he hears and acknowledges every car, every airplane, every truck. His speech does sound like a deaf person's speech, a little, but his ears clearly work. He's not deaf.
So, I assume I've made a language mistake and try again. The interchange repeats itself. The poor mother is probably wondering if she has a mentally impaired social worker on her hands. Slowly, slowly, the light dawns. They frame their understanding of this thing I call autism differently.
Everybody knows Susan Sontag's work with illness as metaphor. She looked at cancer, AIDS, and tuberculosis. Her basic argument is "Oh for heaven's sake, it's just a disease." There's no willed victim-hood; the disease is not about repressed emotions. Nor are these diseases mere social constructs to explain dysfunctional behavior.
But, mental illness can't (yet?) be entirely explained by anything so convenient as a virus or a neoplasm. So I tend to put autism in the mental illness category. "Mental" and "illness" then each inform any treatment or intervention strategies I come up with. The mom thinks of deafness as a physical issue and, like many deaf people in the United States, not really as an impairment at all. Some people are deaf, in the sense that their ears don't work. Other people are deaf, in the sense that they are tone deaf to social nuance and social exchanges. Since no one really knows in a definitive way what this array of symptoms (conditions? experiences?) is, all we have is metaphor.
OK, this is possibly intellectually interesting. Or not. But why should other people care? Other than for the obvious reason that thinking about it keeps Andrea off the streets, I mean. A diagnosis of mental illness necessarily implies that someone (else) has a role in enforcing normal behavior. And the second that two people are involved in one person's behavior and decisions, we have politics. What happens if we look again at the metaphors we use for mental illness? I'm wondering now whether -or how much- the metaphors have changed over, say, the last 8-20 years with the growing conservatism in the U.S. Are we thinking of, perhaps, domestic violence, schizophrenia, even poverty, differently, and thus justifying more punitive interventions for the people involved? Are we calling more and more things mental illness? Should we, perhaps, look at extending Sontag's thinking to mental illness and work at reframing public language about it? I guess it's pretty obvious that I have a hypothesis, but no real evidence just yet.
I'll get back to you.
You also have to know that my Hindi skills are beyond woeful (much closer to nonexistent than merely woeful, truth be told), so when I ask about this I stumble on the word for "autism". As courteous people will, the mother supplied the word -"deaf." He's clearly not deaf. He doesn't respond to people, so much, but he hears and acknowledges every car, every airplane, every truck. His speech does sound like a deaf person's speech, a little, but his ears clearly work. He's not deaf.
So, I assume I've made a language mistake and try again. The interchange repeats itself. The poor mother is probably wondering if she has a mentally impaired social worker on her hands. Slowly, slowly, the light dawns. They frame their understanding of this thing I call autism differently.
Everybody knows Susan Sontag's work with illness as metaphor. She looked at cancer, AIDS, and tuberculosis. Her basic argument is "Oh for heaven's sake, it's just a disease." There's no willed victim-hood; the disease is not about repressed emotions. Nor are these diseases mere social constructs to explain dysfunctional behavior.
But, mental illness can't (yet?) be entirely explained by anything so convenient as a virus or a neoplasm. So I tend to put autism in the mental illness category. "Mental" and "illness" then each inform any treatment or intervention strategies I come up with. The mom thinks of deafness as a physical issue and, like many deaf people in the United States, not really as an impairment at all. Some people are deaf, in the sense that their ears don't work. Other people are deaf, in the sense that they are tone deaf to social nuance and social exchanges. Since no one really knows in a definitive way what this array of symptoms (conditions? experiences?) is, all we have is metaphor.
OK, this is possibly intellectually interesting. Or not. But why should other people care? Other than for the obvious reason that thinking about it keeps Andrea off the streets, I mean. A diagnosis of mental illness necessarily implies that someone (else) has a role in enforcing normal behavior. And the second that two people are involved in one person's behavior and decisions, we have politics. What happens if we look again at the metaphors we use for mental illness? I'm wondering now whether -or how much- the metaphors have changed over, say, the last 8-20 years with the growing conservatism in the U.S. Are we thinking of, perhaps, domestic violence, schizophrenia, even poverty, differently, and thus justifying more punitive interventions for the people involved? Are we calling more and more things mental illness? Should we, perhaps, look at extending Sontag's thinking to mental illness and work at reframing public language about it? I guess it's pretty obvious that I have a hypothesis, but no real evidence just yet.
I'll get back to you.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Reader, I Married Him
This is the 26th anniversary of the start of the relationship between a short little undergraduate and a tall skinny grad student. A bit of naughtiness in the church basement -nothing to worry about. (Seriously... how much trouble can you get into in a church basement?) But the rest is history. Our actual marriage was in September, but today marks the beginning.
It's the same old story. It's nothing you haven't heard a thousand times. Yet, I really believe that when people decide to join forces for a lifetime -people of any description whatsoever- God smiles and says "Behold, I make something new."
I've been thinking a lot about marriage and what it can possibly mean when the partners are separated by half the globe. And it's not as though we're the only ones to have to figure this out. In spite of my narcissistic angst over being separated, I do realize that, for example, people send their partners off to fight in wars and enjoy no certainty at all as to whether or not they'll ever come back. I can get on a plane and go see Math-Man any time I want. Comparative luxury.
Anyway.... my musings include the non-original thought that marriage allows a private decision to matter publicly. The things we do in the privacy of our home (not THOSE things....work with me here) do matter in the life of the polis. We didn't have grandiose formulations of our marriage-mission when we started out. (Which is a little weird when you think about it. If any two people were going to sit down and write a marriage mission statement, you'd think it would be us.) But had we written such a statement -or even thought about one for two seconds together - it would have involved something about bringing life into the world.
Not just babies, although I'm delighted that they turned up. But LIFE -energy, vibrancy, justice, some light to the dark places. We haven't done a particularly great job; there have been years-on-end when we forgot the focus. Yet even without our conscious attention, the mission is still there in the background, waiting for us to attend to it. Perhaps God is still about the business of creating something new with us.
On Sunday, I hope to return to the scene of the crime for the U of C Folk Festival, but that church basement just won't be the same all by myself ;)
It's the same old story. It's nothing you haven't heard a thousand times. Yet, I really believe that when people decide to join forces for a lifetime -people of any description whatsoever- God smiles and says "Behold, I make something new."
I've been thinking a lot about marriage and what it can possibly mean when the partners are separated by half the globe. And it's not as though we're the only ones to have to figure this out. In spite of my narcissistic angst over being separated, I do realize that, for example, people send their partners off to fight in wars and enjoy no certainty at all as to whether or not they'll ever come back. I can get on a plane and go see Math-Man any time I want. Comparative luxury.
Anyway.... my musings include the non-original thought that marriage allows a private decision to matter publicly. The things we do in the privacy of our home (not THOSE things....work with me here) do matter in the life of the polis. We didn't have grandiose formulations of our marriage-mission when we started out. (Which is a little weird when you think about it. If any two people were going to sit down and write a marriage mission statement, you'd think it would be us.) But had we written such a statement -or even thought about one for two seconds together - it would have involved something about bringing life into the world.
Not just babies, although I'm delighted that they turned up. But LIFE -energy, vibrancy, justice, some light to the dark places. We haven't done a particularly great job; there have been years-on-end when we forgot the focus. Yet even without our conscious attention, the mission is still there in the background, waiting for us to attend to it. Perhaps God is still about the business of creating something new with us.
On Sunday, I hope to return to the scene of the crime for the U of C Folk Festival, but that church basement just won't be the same all by myself ;)
Tags: family stuff
Monday, January 29, 2007
I'm So Very Behind
You have no idea. I know I always say that I'm behind and swamped and disorganized, but truly, I've outdone myself. I've reached new heights of behind-ness.
I'm so behind that I'm just now getting around to reading the text of the State of the Union speech, which was, of course.... a while ago. I have an excuse for not listening to it, but not following up in a more timely manner? Well, I'm a slug. That's all there is to it.
Here's my current favorite line:
Because that would explain so much about why you chose Eric Keroack to head HHS's Family Planning program. A man who believes that birth control demeans women -and surely that position wins some kind of "peculiar argument" award- is going to be so interested in leaving those decisions to a women and her doctor. That single sentence in the State of the Union explains so much about why you publish abstinence-only teaching materials claiming that avoiding sex will save you from suicide. That's why you used political clout to delay approval of the morning-after pill for years.
Perhaps you meant to say that health care decisions belong to patients and doctors, unless the patient has a vagina. But then.... you probably think that's a dirty word.
I'm so behind that I'm just now getting around to reading the text of the State of the Union speech, which was, of course.... a while ago. I have an excuse for not listening to it, but not following up in a more timely manner? Well, I'm a slug. That's all there is to it.
Here's my current favorite line:
In all we do, we must remember that the best health care decisions are made not by government and insurance companies, but by patients and their doctors."Oh! Really? George, you stun me. We're supposed to believe that you believe that?
Because that would explain so much about why you chose Eric Keroack to head HHS's Family Planning program. A man who believes that birth control demeans women -and surely that position wins some kind of "peculiar argument" award- is going to be so interested in leaving those decisions to a women and her doctor. That single sentence in the State of the Union explains so much about why you publish abstinence-only teaching materials claiming that avoiding sex will save you from suicide. That's why you used political clout to delay approval of the morning-after pill for years.
Perhaps you meant to say that health care decisions belong to patients and doctors, unless the patient has a vagina. But then.... you probably think that's a dirty word.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Blogging for Somebody Else's Choice
It's the anniversary of Roe v. Wade, so I'm offering these thoughts. They're a little "off the beaten path" of my usual rhetoric, but they reflect my current international social work train of thought.
On his first day in office in 2001, President Bush re-established the disingenuously named Mexico City Policy. Commonly called the global gag rule, it decrees that no organization supporting abortion, informing clients about abortion, or lobbying to legalize abortion in its own country can receive U.S. family planning assistance. So nations and service providers have to choose: the comparatively big bucks of U.S. foreign aid vs. the full flow of information and legal services to their citizens. And of course, that's exactly what was intended -that the money would be so vital that the local policy makers would be forced to deny legal services to their clients in order to keep the doors open at all.
But.... if the intent was actually to reduce the number of abortions, then the program has failed. And surely that was the intent. President Bush explicitly said when he signed the order that "it will make abortion more rare." I haven't done extensive research (to say the least), but at least in India and Nepal that has not been the case. In India and Nepal, abortion is legal with very few restrictions and is generally available. Financially and socially privileged people of course still have access and their use of this service is largely unchanged, which was expected by all parties.
Poor women, though, now face a double bind. What the U.S. policy does (and I know I'm repeating myself) is deny family planning assistance to programs that support abortion. So, we deny access to contraception in an attempt to prevent abortion (???). So, without access to contraception, there are unplanned pregnancies and unsafe abortions -apparently in record numbers. Anti-abortion proponents need to believe that criminalizing abortion reduces the incidence of abortions, but the numbers just don't support the claims. The incidence of abortion is, rather, tied to the number of unplanned pregnancies. (duh) The thing that changes with the criminalization of abortion is the safety of the women involved.
And of course all of this ignores the reality that the same agencies which provide family planning services are typically the ones on the front lines in AIDS prevention. But no.... no condoms for them either.
So, we impose a policy that reflects neither U.S. law nor U.S. public opinion on other countries. And of course, in many cases, abortion is already quite legal and accepted in those countries. So we impede their efforts at national sovereignty and self-determination while we're at it. And we certainly violate our own guidelines re: international aid which include these: to administer taxpayer funds efficiently and with maximum benefits to the recipients of U.S. aid, and to promote and support American democratic values abroad.
The point we're missing here is that abortion can be safe, legal, and rare. What's so hard about that?
On his first day in office in 2001, President Bush re-established the disingenuously named Mexico City Policy. Commonly called the global gag rule, it decrees that no organization supporting abortion, informing clients about abortion, or lobbying to legalize abortion in its own country can receive U.S. family planning assistance. So nations and service providers have to choose: the comparatively big bucks of U.S. foreign aid vs. the full flow of information and legal services to their citizens. And of course, that's exactly what was intended -that the money would be so vital that the local policy makers would be forced to deny legal services to their clients in order to keep the doors open at all.
But.... if the intent was actually to reduce the number of abortions, then the program has failed. And surely that was the intent. President Bush explicitly said when he signed the order that "it will make abortion more rare." I haven't done extensive research (to say the least), but at least in India and Nepal that has not been the case. In India and Nepal, abortion is legal with very few restrictions and is generally available. Financially and socially privileged people of course still have access and their use of this service is largely unchanged, which was expected by all parties.
Poor women, though, now face a double bind. What the U.S. policy does (and I know I'm repeating myself) is deny family planning assistance to programs that support abortion. So, we deny access to contraception in an attempt to prevent abortion (???). So, without access to contraception, there are unplanned pregnancies and unsafe abortions -apparently in record numbers. Anti-abortion proponents need to believe that criminalizing abortion reduces the incidence of abortions, but the numbers just don't support the claims. The incidence of abortion is, rather, tied to the number of unplanned pregnancies. (duh) The thing that changes with the criminalization of abortion is the safety of the women involved.
And of course all of this ignores the reality that the same agencies which provide family planning services are typically the ones on the front lines in AIDS prevention. But no.... no condoms for them either.
So, we impose a policy that reflects neither U.S. law nor U.S. public opinion on other countries. And of course, in many cases, abortion is already quite legal and accepted in those countries. So we impede their efforts at national sovereignty and self-determination while we're at it. And we certainly violate our own guidelines re: international aid which include these: to administer taxpayer funds efficiently and with maximum benefits to the recipients of U.S. aid, and to promote and support American democratic values abroad.
The point we're missing here is that abortion can be safe, legal, and rare. What's so hard about that?
Saturday, January 20, 2007
How I'm Occupying My Time
Worldwide, 200,000 people a day migrate from rural to urban areas. That's 70 million people a year... 130 people a minute. World-wide, one in six people is a squatter; by 2050, it'll be one in three. Many cities of the future will be these illegal -or extralegal- cities piled up outside incorporated urban areas.
So, who cares? This trend may not be a bad thing. There's some evidence that the squatters themselves think this is a fine idea. If rural life were working -if legitimate urban life were working- there wouldn't be this head-long rush into squatter communities in the developing world. These communities, after all, can be thriving neighborhoods. I remain unconvinced that this is the best we can do for people, although I'm trying to keep an open mind. People's absolute right to self-determination vs. a minimum standard of living.... I'm evaluating where I stand on this. One of my most immediate concerns is what happens in the case of a natural or man-made disaster. It is always true -ALWAYS- that poor people have the hardest time in a disaster. But if you're living in substandard housing, on top of a pile of garbage, it doesn't take a terribly fertile imagination to figure out what's going to happen in a tornado or a mudslide or a hurricane.
The question comes down to, what do we think the good life is? In Mumbai, it's hard to miss the fact that there are squatter communities springing up on the highway median. I had a serious start when I realized that an extended family of 15 or so was sharing a space that was 7 feet on a side. They have to sleep and eat in shifts because there isn't enough room inside for them all at one time. Ok, I knew that people lived in poverty. I'm not completely naive. But some mathematical neuron fired, and I realized that my BED is almost 7 feet on a side. 15 people live in a space that is the size of my bed. I'm not kidding. (And I wasn't thrilled, back in the day, when that space was occupied for the night by me, my husband, and whichever child was claiming to be having nightmares.) And there is no access to services, sporadic electricity, and frequently there is a mountain of garbage upon which they live. Is that the good life?
Yes, these are neighborhoods. Or they can be. But so are the communities that have been left behind. Or so they might have been. Parents want their children not to be trapped by dire poverty, by social constraints, by illiteracy. So sometimes they move to these urban communities, to free themselves from -or hide from- the societal constraints that were entrapping them in the rural areas. Some parents, though, are trying to stay behind in the rural communities and make that work. They want not to have to sell their children into indentured servitude or downright slavery, but also to live where the family has lived for generations. It seems to me that there must be a place for both kinds of response to the universal human desire to offer our children more than we have.
This community organizing, building upon an expressed need and local expertise, is something I know about. And these are some of the questions on the table for the people I'm working with right now. Can rural, subsistence living be sustained these days? Can we offer our children safe, secure, and option-filled lives, in these rural communities? (Now THIS I know about from having raised children in a rural environment. It's not the easiest sell for me, but again I'm trying to keep an open mind.) Does education necessarily drive people "off the farm" and into the cities? Does education necessarily distance the educated young people from the less well educated parents and grandparents? Might there be a way to re-think that?
I don't know any of the answers. But I wanted all of you to know that at least I'm ignoring you for important questions. And, if you know the answers, you could... you know.... give me a little hint. Save us all some time ;)
So, who cares? This trend may not be a bad thing. There's some evidence that the squatters themselves think this is a fine idea. If rural life were working -if legitimate urban life were working- there wouldn't be this head-long rush into squatter communities in the developing world. These communities, after all, can be thriving neighborhoods. I remain unconvinced that this is the best we can do for people, although I'm trying to keep an open mind. People's absolute right to self-determination vs. a minimum standard of living.... I'm evaluating where I stand on this. One of my most immediate concerns is what happens in the case of a natural or man-made disaster. It is always true -ALWAYS- that poor people have the hardest time in a disaster. But if you're living in substandard housing, on top of a pile of garbage, it doesn't take a terribly fertile imagination to figure out what's going to happen in a tornado or a mudslide or a hurricane.
The question comes down to, what do we think the good life is? In Mumbai, it's hard to miss the fact that there are squatter communities springing up on the highway median. I had a serious start when I realized that an extended family of 15 or so was sharing a space that was 7 feet on a side. They have to sleep and eat in shifts because there isn't enough room inside for them all at one time. Ok, I knew that people lived in poverty. I'm not completely naive. But some mathematical neuron fired, and I realized that my BED is almost 7 feet on a side. 15 people live in a space that is the size of my bed. I'm not kidding. (And I wasn't thrilled, back in the day, when that space was occupied for the night by me, my husband, and whichever child was claiming to be having nightmares.) And there is no access to services, sporadic electricity, and frequently there is a mountain of garbage upon which they live. Is that the good life?
Yes, these are neighborhoods. Or they can be. But so are the communities that have been left behind. Or so they might have been. Parents want their children not to be trapped by dire poverty, by social constraints, by illiteracy. So sometimes they move to these urban communities, to free themselves from -or hide from- the societal constraints that were entrapping them in the rural areas. Some parents, though, are trying to stay behind in the rural communities and make that work. They want not to have to sell their children into indentured servitude or downright slavery, but also to live where the family has lived for generations. It seems to me that there must be a place for both kinds of response to the universal human desire to offer our children more than we have.
This community organizing, building upon an expressed need and local expertise, is something I know about. And these are some of the questions on the table for the people I'm working with right now. Can rural, subsistence living be sustained these days? Can we offer our children safe, secure, and option-filled lives, in these rural communities? (Now THIS I know about from having raised children in a rural environment. It's not the easiest sell for me, but again I'm trying to keep an open mind.) Does education necessarily drive people "off the farm" and into the cities? Does education necessarily distance the educated young people from the less well educated parents and grandparents? Might there be a way to re-think that?
I don't know any of the answers. But I wanted all of you to know that at least I'm ignoring you for important questions. And, if you know the answers, you could... you know.... give me a little hint. Save us all some time ;)
Thursday, January 18, 2007
I'm Not Ignoring You
Well, I guess I am, actually. I'm out of town on a bit of a mission. And there's only sporadic internet access, so that's why I'm ignoring you. I am working on some thoughts re: social service delivery and access and who goes to whom.... and whether or not schools are the right places to deliver social services -in this country or any other. And how passion can just get in the damn way, but I wouldn't be without it. I think.
But for now I have to get back to work. I'm alive and well, and thinking of all of you.
But for now I have to get back to work. I'm alive and well, and thinking of all of you.
Tags: activism social work
Friday, January 12, 2007
Friday Random 10
You know the drill. Set your iPod to shuffle and tell us the first 10 songs that appear. And no fair leaving out the ones that make you look like a dork or adding in ones you think will make you look cool. Here are mine for the week:
- To Daddy; Emmylou Harris
- Largo from Concerto for Guitar; Vivaldi
- Survivor; Destiny's Child
- Adagio Sostenuto from Moonlight Sonata; Beethoven
- Almost Home; Craig Morgan
- Bless the Beasts and the Children; Carpenters (Oh good grief... there's an explanation.... really
- Universal Soldier; Buffy Saint-Marie
- The Highwayman; Loreena McKennitt
- Slavonic Dances -No. 1; Dvorak
- Let's Ride Again; Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons (it's our theme song for getting on our bikes, so that's my excuse)
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Our Options are Closed
If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times. Keep your options open. I've said it to my children as they forged a path through higher education and career choices. I've said it to social work clients. I've used it as a little mantra to myself. And now I get to give this canned little speech to George Bush.
Keeping options open doesn't mean keeping them open forever. Certainly one must eventually choose among them. The things we do choose inevitably leave behind the detritus of the thing not chosen. Don't look back; there's really no point. The idea behind my little mantra is not to wallow in indecision but rather to make sure there are options in the first place. A little bonus is to choose among ethical options, or at the very least to choose the ethical option from among several possibilities.
But here's the thing. Our fearless leader (who really needs to develop a sense of fear, among other psychological issues) has left all of us with no good choices. There are only three options, it seems. We pull out now. Today or very soon. We stay the course, which amounts to leaving gradually. Doesn't it? Or, we do something different, and the President's decision is to send more troops to wage this war "right". Somehow "do no harm" seems never to have been on the table as an option. The thing not chosen was to avoid war in the first place, and it's really too late to fret about that. We did go to war, and we have to go forward from here.
Here's another trick from social work, George. Sometimes the solution you were sure would work doesn't work. It's baffling, and it happens to all of us occasionally. It seems to be human nature to thrash around a bit and do the wrong thing more, harder, better. If the problem was determination or sheer strength, there will be results quickly. If nothing happens, the problem was the tool itself. Frequently when this happens, the problem has been framed poorly. You chose a poor response to the problem because you misunderstood the problem in the first place.
You might be making the mistake of thinking that there is a military solution at all. Maybe it's a political problem instead and would respond to political tools. Perhaps it's an intellectual problem or a moral one or even a spiritual one. I don't claim to know.
But think outside the box for two minutes together, for the love of all things holy. Because I can tell you right now what's going to happen as a result of this escalation, and none of us is going to like it. Including you.
As VirusHead so wisely points out, our future is being stolen from us as well.
Keeping options open doesn't mean keeping them open forever. Certainly one must eventually choose among them. The things we do choose inevitably leave behind the detritus of the thing not chosen. Don't look back; there's really no point. The idea behind my little mantra is not to wallow in indecision but rather to make sure there are options in the first place. A little bonus is to choose among ethical options, or at the very least to choose the ethical option from among several possibilities.
But here's the thing. Our fearless leader (who really needs to develop a sense of fear, among other psychological issues) has left all of us with no good choices. There are only three options, it seems. We pull out now. Today or very soon. We stay the course, which amounts to leaving gradually. Doesn't it? Or, we do something different, and the President's decision is to send more troops to wage this war "right". Somehow "do no harm" seems never to have been on the table as an option. The thing not chosen was to avoid war in the first place, and it's really too late to fret about that. We did go to war, and we have to go forward from here.
Here's another trick from social work, George. Sometimes the solution you were sure would work doesn't work. It's baffling, and it happens to all of us occasionally. It seems to be human nature to thrash around a bit and do the wrong thing more, harder, better. If the problem was determination or sheer strength, there will be results quickly. If nothing happens, the problem was the tool itself. Frequently when this happens, the problem has been framed poorly. You chose a poor response to the problem because you misunderstood the problem in the first place.
You might be making the mistake of thinking that there is a military solution at all. Maybe it's a political problem instead and would respond to political tools. Perhaps it's an intellectual problem or a moral one or even a spiritual one. I don't claim to know.
But think outside the box for two minutes together, for the love of all things holy. Because I can tell you right now what's going to happen as a result of this escalation, and none of us is going to like it. Including you.
As VirusHead so wisely points out, our future is being stolen from us as well.
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
My Carbon Diet - The Home Office
This week wraps up the eight-week Carbon Diet Challenge sponsored by Tree Hugger and Slate magazine. (Everyone else is, of course, long since finished. I'm bringing up the rear, as usual.) This week, it's time to turn our attention to the activity dear to the hearts of crunchy-granola types everywhere: recycling and otherwise reducing the environmental impact of the home office. Paper production is one of the most energy-intensive American industries and I'm here to tell you the mills do nothing good for the environment. When I was a little girl, we lived in the same town as a paper mill. Lord have mercy, those things stink. Recycling paper, using recycled paper, and using scrap paper really do make a difference. Opting out of junk mail saves paper and irritation. Here's a link to get you started: FTC Opt-Out Letter. A person can even turn off the steady stream of credit card offers. Siel turned me on to this one, and I've been grateful ever since. Here's the link: Opt-Out. A person could turn off the computer monitor at night, to save energy and keep a second recycling bucket by your desk.
If I do all of the things I said I would do (and I intend to), then I'll be responsible for about 600 fewer pounds of carbon dioxide emissions. That sounds a lot more impressive than "the equivalent of 0.07 cars". Sheesh.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
The First Meme of 2007
I borrowed this from Michael over at Musing's Musings. It's fun -and I suppose a good way for people to learn more about me. Join in, as you like.
1) The phone rings. Who do you want it to be? My favorite choice is my husband calling me, just to chat. But bless his heart, he doesn't really do that.
2) When shopping at the grocery store, do you return your cart? Yes, always.
3) In a social setting, are you more of a talker or a listener? A talker, I fear. I have a tendency toward the extrovert-run-amok, which I try to keep in check.
4) If abandoned alone in the wilderness, would you survive? Oh good heavens, no. You might as well send me into the wilderness with a target on my back. I'd get lost, starve to death, and be eaten by something within about ...an hour.
5) Do you like to ride horses? As a kid, I rode sometimes. But I haven't gone horseback riding in decades nor have I missed it. So apparently it wasn't the love of my life.
6) Did you ever go to camp as a kid? Not the sleep-away kind.
7) What was your favorite board game as a kid? Monopoly, but we never played by the rules. I just wanted to buy property, preferably the ones with pretty-colored cards. Then we would quit. I was astonished to learn that there was more to the game than that.
8) If a sexy person were pursuing you, but you knew he/she was taken what would you do? After I dropped dead from surprise, you mean? I suppose this would be where the Mom-glare might come in handy. "I'm taken. You're taken. Go find something constructive to do."
9) Are you judgmental? Probably some people think so, but I don't think so. I'm tolerant of a wide array of lifestyles, choices, beliefs.... But when something's really wrong (in the world-according-to-Andrea) I say that.
10) Would you date someone with different religious beliefs? I have done, but it was difficult.
11) Are you continuing your education? I don't foresee pursuing more formal education, but absolutely yes, I'm continuing my education.
12) Do you know how to shoot a gun? No.
13) If your house was on fire, what’s the first thing you’d grab? The photo albums
14) How often do you read books? Every day.
15)Do you think more about the past, present or future? I can get tangled up fretting about the future, so I try to bring my thoughts back to this moment. I'm not always good at doing that.
16) What is your favorite children’s book? The Snowman by Raymond Briggs
17) How tall are you? almost 4'11"
18) Where is your ideal house located? by the ocean, but Provence would be a close second choice
19) Last person you talked to? My husband
20) When was the last time you were at Olive Garden? Easter day, two years ago -almost. I have this friend who had a mysterious brain bleed on the Saturday evening before Easter. Everyone gathered at her hospital bed that Sunday. At one point, she was still intubated and in a coma, yet we needed to mark the Easter-ness of the day somehow. A large group went looking for a restaurant, and Olive Garden was right there -and they're tolerant of large motley crews, so there we were.
21) What are your keys on your key chains for? one car key. one work key. That's all I have.
22) What did you do last night? Went to dinner at a friend's house. It was lovely.
23) Where is your current pain? Wow! Is it a given that I have a pain? My neck and shoulders are always a little tight, I suppose.
24) Do you like mustard? Yes. I make my own. Weird, but true.
25) Do you like your mom and dad? Yes. My dad's dead, and he was a bit of a case, but a likeable case. My mom's sort of benignly goofy, but is a fabulous person and hard not to like.
26) How long does it take you in the shower? however long the hot water lasts.
27) What movie do you want to see right now? I haven't heard of one in the theaters that I want to watch, but my netflix queue has about 100 movies on it. The one I'm waiting for now is The Queen, with Helen Mirrin.
28) Do you put lotion on your dog or cats? Do they need lotion? Who knew? I don't have a dog or a cat.
29) What did you do for New Year’s? Partied with a bunch of mathematicians and their partners. Try to restrain your jealousy.
30) Do you think The Grudge was scary? I don't have the slightest idea. What's The Grudge?
31) Do you own a camera phone? Yes, but I haven't figured out how to move the pictures from the phone to my computer.
32) What’s the last letter of your middle name? E (Terese)
33) Who did you vote for on American Idol? American Idol? I thought that was a TV show. How do you vote on a television show? I obviously didn't vote, I guess.
34) How many hours of sleep do you get a night? 7-8, if I can pull it off.
35) Do you like Care Bears? Care Bears are WAY after my time, and weren't even all that popular when my kids were little, so I don't know much about them. I tend not to like those made-to-sell-toys characters marketed to children.
36) Do you know how to play poker? Sort of. But I have a very expressive face, so I lose. Fast.
37) Do you wear your seatbelt? Yes, always.
38) What do you sleep in? I have a weird fondness for pretty or cute pajamas and nightgowns, so that's what I sleep in.
39) Anything big ever happen in your hometown? Barbed wire and Cindy Crawford were invented/born there.
40) Is your tongue pierced? ewwwwwww..... no.
41) Who’s the funniest person you know? My brothers can make you cry, they're so funny.
42) Do you like funny or serious people better? I like people of all kinds. If I had to pick, I'd probably go for serious, but I wouldn't want to pick, at all at all.
43) Did you eat a cookie today? Nope, and there aren't any hanging around, so I probably won't.
44) Do you use cuss words in other languages? Oh my, yes.
45) Do you steal or pay for your music downloads? Pay for. One of my children showed me how to steal it, and I did download one song illegally. But I felt so terrible, it wasn't worth it.
46) When was the last time you said “I love you” and meant it? This morning. And I always mean it.
47) Is your cell usually on vibrate or ring?Ring
48) Do you need a boyfriend/girlfriend? Oh my goodness, no. I have a fictitious boyfriend named Lars that I tease my husband about. But Lars doesn't actually exist.
1) The phone rings. Who do you want it to be? My favorite choice is my husband calling me, just to chat. But bless his heart, he doesn't really do that.
2) When shopping at the grocery store, do you return your cart? Yes, always.
3) In a social setting, are you more of a talker or a listener? A talker, I fear. I have a tendency toward the extrovert-run-amok, which I try to keep in check.
4) If abandoned alone in the wilderness, would you survive? Oh good heavens, no. You might as well send me into the wilderness with a target on my back. I'd get lost, starve to death, and be eaten by something within about ...an hour.
5) Do you like to ride horses? As a kid, I rode sometimes. But I haven't gone horseback riding in decades nor have I missed it. So apparently it wasn't the love of my life.
6) Did you ever go to camp as a kid? Not the sleep-away kind.
7) What was your favorite board game as a kid? Monopoly, but we never played by the rules. I just wanted to buy property, preferably the ones with pretty-colored cards. Then we would quit. I was astonished to learn that there was more to the game than that.
8) If a sexy person were pursuing you, but you knew he/she was taken what would you do? After I dropped dead from surprise, you mean? I suppose this would be where the Mom-glare might come in handy. "I'm taken. You're taken. Go find something constructive to do."
9) Are you judgmental? Probably some people think so, but I don't think so. I'm tolerant of a wide array of lifestyles, choices, beliefs.... But when something's really wrong (in the world-according-to-Andrea) I say that.
10) Would you date someone with different religious beliefs? I have done, but it was difficult.
11) Are you continuing your education? I don't foresee pursuing more formal education, but absolutely yes, I'm continuing my education.
12) Do you know how to shoot a gun? No.
13) If your house was on fire, what’s the first thing you’d grab? The photo albums
14) How often do you read books? Every day.
15)Do you think more about the past, present or future? I can get tangled up fretting about the future, so I try to bring my thoughts back to this moment. I'm not always good at doing that.
16) What is your favorite children’s book? The Snowman by Raymond Briggs
17) How tall are you? almost 4'11"
18) Where is your ideal house located? by the ocean, but Provence would be a close second choice
19) Last person you talked to? My husband
20) When was the last time you were at Olive Garden? Easter day, two years ago -almost. I have this friend who had a mysterious brain bleed on the Saturday evening before Easter. Everyone gathered at her hospital bed that Sunday. At one point, she was still intubated and in a coma, yet we needed to mark the Easter-ness of the day somehow. A large group went looking for a restaurant, and Olive Garden was right there -and they're tolerant of large motley crews, so there we were.
21) What are your keys on your key chains for? one car key. one work key. That's all I have.
22) What did you do last night? Went to dinner at a friend's house. It was lovely.
23) Where is your current pain? Wow! Is it a given that I have a pain? My neck and shoulders are always a little tight, I suppose.
24) Do you like mustard? Yes. I make my own. Weird, but true.
25) Do you like your mom and dad? Yes. My dad's dead, and he was a bit of a case, but a likeable case. My mom's sort of benignly goofy, but is a fabulous person and hard not to like.
26) How long does it take you in the shower? however long the hot water lasts.
27) What movie do you want to see right now? I haven't heard of one in the theaters that I want to watch, but my netflix queue has about 100 movies on it. The one I'm waiting for now is The Queen, with Helen Mirrin.
28) Do you put lotion on your dog or cats? Do they need lotion? Who knew? I don't have a dog or a cat.
29) What did you do for New Year’s? Partied with a bunch of mathematicians and their partners. Try to restrain your jealousy.
30) Do you think The Grudge was scary? I don't have the slightest idea. What's The Grudge?
31) Do you own a camera phone? Yes, but I haven't figured out how to move the pictures from the phone to my computer.
32) What’s the last letter of your middle name? E (Terese)
33) Who did you vote for on American Idol? American Idol? I thought that was a TV show. How do you vote on a television show? I obviously didn't vote, I guess.
34) How many hours of sleep do you get a night? 7-8, if I can pull it off.
35) Do you like Care Bears? Care Bears are WAY after my time, and weren't even all that popular when my kids were little, so I don't know much about them. I tend not to like those made-to-sell-toys characters marketed to children.
36) Do you know how to play poker? Sort of. But I have a very expressive face, so I lose. Fast.
37) Do you wear your seatbelt? Yes, always.
38) What do you sleep in? I have a weird fondness for pretty or cute pajamas and nightgowns, so that's what I sleep in.
39) Anything big ever happen in your hometown? Barbed wire and Cindy Crawford were invented/born there.
40) Is your tongue pierced? ewwwwwww..... no.
41) Who’s the funniest person you know? My brothers can make you cry, they're so funny.
42) Do you like funny or serious people better? I like people of all kinds. If I had to pick, I'd probably go for serious, but I wouldn't want to pick, at all at all.
43) Did you eat a cookie today? Nope, and there aren't any hanging around, so I probably won't.
44) Do you use cuss words in other languages? Oh my, yes.
45) Do you steal or pay for your music downloads? Pay for. One of my children showed me how to steal it, and I did download one song illegally. But I felt so terrible, it wasn't worth it.
46) When was the last time you said “I love you” and meant it? This morning. And I always mean it.
47) Is your cell usually on vibrate or ring?Ring
48) Do you need a boyfriend/girlfriend? Oh my goodness, no. I have a fictitious boyfriend named Lars that I tease my husband about. But Lars doesn't actually exist.
Tags: blogging
Monday, January 08, 2007
It was bound to happen.....
Only a moron puts a blog out into the ether and yet believes that it's private. Okay, I didn't think it was private, exactly, but it didn't occur to me that anyone cared that it was here. I use this space, as you know, to start figuring things out. It's a place to put the ideas and thoughts that are rattling around in my head and cluttering up the place, preventing my brain from figuring out where my car keys are. Or (and?) it's a place to find and chat with like-minded people whom I wouldn't otherwise have "met".
But here's what happened a few days ago and yesterday. These events may be unrelated, but somehow I'm dubious. A few days ago there was an anonymous comment on a months-old post -something about gay marriage and Catholicism. The comment suggested that I wasn't actually Catholic. Since, in spite of such a cowardly (anonymous!) declaration, no one's revoked my baptism, I didn't give it another thought. Yesterday I went to church (Mike, where were you? I needed you!) and someone whose name I don't even know came up to me and said that she felt duty-bound to tattle about my blog to the parish priests. I'm afraid that the sarcasm that I usually only think, rather than say, did actually spill out of my mouth. So, I must take some responsibility for possibly having escalated this situation.
That's as far as it's gotten. I have no message from any of the priests. No one's called. They're probably going to try to divert this person to more salubrious ministries.
Yet, in case you're a parish priest and reading this blog for the first time, here's the thing. Welcome. Get comfortable. Stay a while and make comments and have fun with us. I love dialogue, even when it gets intense -as long as it's respectful. My hard-nosed rule, though, is that I will not be summoned. If you want to talk about these issues, let's do it here, for now.
Come, let us reason together.
But here's what happened a few days ago and yesterday. These events may be unrelated, but somehow I'm dubious. A few days ago there was an anonymous comment on a months-old post -something about gay marriage and Catholicism. The comment suggested that I wasn't actually Catholic. Since, in spite of such a cowardly (anonymous!) declaration, no one's revoked my baptism, I didn't give it another thought. Yesterday I went to church (Mike, where were you? I needed you!) and someone whose name I don't even know came up to me and said that she felt duty-bound to tattle about my blog to the parish priests. I'm afraid that the sarcasm that I usually only think, rather than say, did actually spill out of my mouth. So, I must take some responsibility for possibly having escalated this situation.
That's as far as it's gotten. I have no message from any of the priests. No one's called. They're probably going to try to divert this person to more salubrious ministries.
Yet, in case you're a parish priest and reading this blog for the first time, here's the thing. Welcome. Get comfortable. Stay a while and make comments and have fun with us. I love dialogue, even when it gets intense -as long as it's respectful. My hard-nosed rule, though, is that I will not be summoned. If you want to talk about these issues, let's do it here, for now.
Come, let us reason together.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
On Beyond Recycling
I watched An Inconvenient Truth last night. Yes, I'd seen it before. But I'd forgotten to take it out of my netflix queue, and I didn't have any other movies and I needed to knit. So I watched a movie I'd seen before so I could spend some quiet time knitting. Weird, but true.
It might well be too little too late, but I/we (all of us) need to move beyond putting the recycling out and remembering to keep the yard waste out of the trash. Assuming, of course, that we intend to save the planet. For one thing, I'm losing my identity as the causy rebel if that's all I do. My 80 year old neighbor on the one side and the oh-so-very-Republican neighbors on the other both recycle. It's obviously become mainstream to recycle, and it violates a local ordinance to put yard waste in the trash stream. So I clearly have to move on to other things, if only for reasons of self-image ;)
So, what's next? Recycling reduces the impact of one problem: landfills. This is a good thing. Yet, as I drive down my street on recycling day, I'm still vaguely disturbed by the amount of stuff out there in the recycling buckets. It would be so much worse if that volume were being dumped in the landfills. I get that. But why does most of it exist at all?
It's the same feeling that I get when looking around at my house, actually. So please don't think I'm blaming those other people, the conspicuous consumers. There is no room in this house (and there are 14 of them) that doesn't have unnecessary stuff in it. I'm starting one of those "get rid of it" rampages again.
But here's another side of the same coin. I don't want a grim, ascetic life or home. I don't want to live in a space that feels unwelcoming because, by God, we're living simply. (And I mean it this time!) Rather, if this little family is going to be authentically who it is, we need a space that is fun and welcoming and large. And slightly more organized than it currently is, wouldn't hurt anything either.
There's a group on yahoo that has pledged to go a step further, purchasing almost nothing in the next year. They give themselves a pass for food, cleaning, health supplies, and services such as necesssary transportation. They call themselves The Compact and here's what they say about themselves:
I joined the yahoo group, but so far they are a bit austere -making laundry soap from quinoa and arguing about whether or not it violates the compact to fly to grandma's funeral. Oh spare me. Offset carbon miles if you like, but get to your grandmother's funeral. And quinoa doesn't belong in the laundry room, as far as I'm concerned. Nonetheless, the idea of fleeing consumerism is an interesting one.
Some people are doing an excellent job of making living a "green" life consistent with being hip. Siel at Green LA Girl and Ideal Bite come to mind. Thank heavens they are out there. But I need something else, since even those women can't turn me into a hip person. What a want is abundance of a different sort. Not stuff, but ambiance. I want joy, a sense of welcome, and social justice to inform my consumer choices. There it is. That's what I want. If a consumer good isn't going to move me closer to that, then I don't want it.
Now I have to give some thought to what that actually means when I'm standing in the grocery store, contemplating the fairly grim choices among, say, high-fiber cereals. But I do think this projects merits more musing.
It might well be too little too late, but I/we (all of us) need to move beyond putting the recycling out and remembering to keep the yard waste out of the trash. Assuming, of course, that we intend to save the planet. For one thing, I'm losing my identity as the causy rebel if that's all I do. My 80 year old neighbor on the one side and the oh-so-very-Republican neighbors on the other both recycle. It's obviously become mainstream to recycle, and it violates a local ordinance to put yard waste in the trash stream. So I clearly have to move on to other things, if only for reasons of self-image ;)
So, what's next? Recycling reduces the impact of one problem: landfills. This is a good thing. Yet, as I drive down my street on recycling day, I'm still vaguely disturbed by the amount of stuff out there in the recycling buckets. It would be so much worse if that volume were being dumped in the landfills. I get that. But why does most of it exist at all?
It's the same feeling that I get when looking around at my house, actually. So please don't think I'm blaming those other people, the conspicuous consumers. There is no room in this house (and there are 14 of them) that doesn't have unnecessary stuff in it. I'm starting one of those "get rid of it" rampages again.
But here's another side of the same coin. I don't want a grim, ascetic life or home. I don't want to live in a space that feels unwelcoming because, by God, we're living simply. (And I mean it this time!) Rather, if this little family is going to be authentically who it is, we need a space that is fun and welcoming and large. And slightly more organized than it currently is, wouldn't hurt anything either.
There's a group on yahoo that has pledged to go a step further, purchasing almost nothing in the next year. They give themselves a pass for food, cleaning, health supplies, and services such as necesssary transportation. They call themselves The Compact and here's what they say about themselves:
"We are a group of individuals committed to a 12-month flight from the consumer grid.
The Compact has several aims (more or less prioritized below):
* To go beyond recycling in trying to counteract the negative global environmental and socioeconomic impacts of disposable consumer culture and to support local businesses, farms, etc. -- a step that, we hope, inherits the revolutionary
* To reduce clutter and waste in our homes (as in trash Compact-er).
* To simplify our lives (as in Calm-pact)
I joined the yahoo group, but so far they are a bit austere -making laundry soap from quinoa and arguing about whether or not it violates the compact to fly to grandma's funeral. Oh spare me. Offset carbon miles if you like, but get to your grandmother's funeral. And quinoa doesn't belong in the laundry room, as far as I'm concerned. Nonetheless, the idea of fleeing consumerism is an interesting one.
Some people are doing an excellent job of making living a "green" life consistent with being hip. Siel at Green LA Girl and Ideal Bite come to mind. Thank heavens they are out there. But I need something else, since even those women can't turn me into a hip person. What a want is abundance of a different sort. Not stuff, but ambiance. I want joy, a sense of welcome, and social justice to inform my consumer choices. There it is. That's what I want. If a consumer good isn't going to move me closer to that, then I don't want it.
Now I have to give some thought to what that actually means when I'm standing in the grocery store, contemplating the fairly grim choices among, say, high-fiber cereals. But I do think this projects merits more musing.
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