I want my country back

When words fail me I turn to art or, many times, the words of others. In attempting to express my profound sadness and anger about the pathetic state of our nation and our disastrously immoral role on the global stage, I pieced together the following visual images that inspire me to keep on keepin' on. I traveled through a wide range of songs trying to find just the right sentiment for this montage. Scanning through my iTunes I ranged from blistering indictments by Ani DiFranco to Pete Seeger wondering where the flowers have gone. I settled on this Alice Peacock song because it is, in the end, hopeful.

Acknowledging all that is wrong with our political state of affairs, Alice still chooses the conviction: "I'll start with me." I respect that. It's the attitude I strive to maintain. Everyone spews the tired excuse that they are only one person and they'll never make a significant impact. Often times it seems progressive community activists are attempting to steer the Titanic, I know I can feel that way, but if every person who said "I'm just one person..." would do
something, we could turn this around. I want my country back because so much is being done in my name, your name, our name, that is beyond ethical comprehension. We are capable of so much good and we are capable of so much more than this.


The song is "I'll Start With Me" by Alice Peacock. Some photos are from the Syracuse Cultural Workers (incredibly inspirational change-the-world resources) and some photos are from Raphaella Vaisseau (one of my favorite Bay Area artists).

In my mind I'm goin' to...

My trip to The NC (more commonly known as North Carolina) was just prior to this blogging experiment; however, it was a great trip and deserves a blogging shout out. My friend moved to Durham a couple years ago to work at Duke. I finally paid her a long-overdue visit and we hit all the highlights. To the surprise of none that know her, she is the perfect tour guide.



We spent some time on the gorgeous Duke campus and it's everything a well-moneyed brick and ivy should be. If you're ever in the neighborhood, do not to miss the Sara P. Duke Gardens, Nasher Museum of Art (aka The Nasher), and Duke Chapel. We took a day trip on the Pottery Highway*, played Kokology at the beach as we watched the sun *not* set into the ocean, learned the very significant (if not moral) difference between tomato- and vinegar- based bbq, attended a live music performance in the picturesque tobacco district, and shopped in Historic Wilmington (a charming cobblestone town where when a double-scoop ice cream cone is requested, they'll present to you two massively independent waffle cones. You've been warned).

* The Pottery Highway. An entire highway (although not so much a highway as a sometimes-paved two-lane country road) full of nothing but pottery. I like to think of it as Pottery Heaven. Go, go, go to Seagrove, North Carolina. Established in the 1700s, potters have been drawn to central NC for its rich, unique clay ever since.

The Ten-Step Idiot's Guide to the Highway of Pottery.
  1. Orienting: Visit the handful of pottery stores in Seagrove, where many (but not nearly all) potters display their work.
  2. Orienting, part duex: Make note of the potters you particularly enjoy. This will be on the test.
  3. Preparing: Pick up a road map, and a complimentary refrigerator magnet, from the nice old woman in the Visitor's Center.
  4. Sign the Guest Book in the Visitor's Center. Watch the joy on the face of the nice old woman.
  5. Planning: Recall the potters whom you particularly enjoyed while in the handful of pottery stores in Seagrove. Locate them on the map. By "locate them" I mean to say find their home address on the map provided by the nice lady at the Visitor's Center, where you got your refrigerator magnet.
  6. Executing: Roll down the windows, crank up Sweet Baby James Taylor, and meander this way and that along Highway 705. When you come to a home you marked on your map (see: Planning), stop, peruse, purchase, repeat. Many potters accept VISA. Repeat.
  7. Executing, continued: Throw out the map. Stop at random homes and take pleasure in unexpected surprises.
  8. Celebrating: Jugtown Cafe, an absolute must. Two words. Onion. Rings.
  9. Damage Control: Purchase at least one extra carry-on bag, if not an extra suitcase altogether. There's no possible way to fit your precious treasures safely into the luggage you brought with you pre-pottery highway.
  10. Damage Control, final warning: Stash an extra $25 in your pocket. You'll need it for the overweight bag fee at the airport.

PBS will save the world

...or at least continue to rock mine.

Noteworthy sound bites from my Friday night PBS line up. That's right. I said "Friday night PBS line up." I'm that sexy.

The News Hour with Jim Lehrer:
Judy Woodruff interviewed Tom Matzzie, MoveOn.org Washington Director, and countered him with a conservative think tank personality whose name I don't remember. The topic was a series of ads running in swing states about, of course, the war in Iraq. Mr. Conservative Think Tank slammed an ad co-funded by MoveOn. He was outright cruel and even attacked Matzzie personally. Then Tom Matzzie spoke. He watched a commercial funded by conservative organizations and he did not attack anyone and was far from cruel. In fact, he first stated that he respected the opinion the narrator presented in the ad and validated this woman's pain about loosing her son. Then Matzzie stated his own opinion and that of MoveOn and left it at that. In a political climate that is in desperate need of civil debate, you have to respect that. To be fair, perhaps Mr. Conservative Think Tank was confused and forgot he was on PBS and not The O'Reilly Factor.

Foreign Exchange with Fareed Zakaria:
Robert T. Watson, World Bank spokesperson on global warming, made a sad but well-phrased point. Global warming, and global climate change in general, is caused primarily by the world's rich countries and is suffered by primarily the world's poor countries. It makes sense, but is one more reason in the litany of reasons to be angry about our unequal, unjustified, and unethical distribution of wealth.

Bill Moyers Journal:
Brice Phillips runs KQRZ-LP radio in Hancock County, Mississippi. Hancock County was ground zero for Hurricane Katrina, where the storm's eye made landfall. KQRZ is a low-power FM community station that was the only station to stay on the air 24/7 during storm and afterward. The Journal told this man's story as a way to discuss media regulations, monopolies, and why local public radio is necessary for the health of our communities. Before the show launched into the politics, Brice Phillips made this beautiful statement: "When you have nothing left and you're at your last resource, that's when you share." The interviewer said, "What makes you want to share when you have nothing?" Bill looks confused, "Share it with each other. It's what you do."

An interesting tid bit I learned from Michael Copps, FCC Commissioner: In the 1934 bill that established the Federal Communications Commission, it says 112 times that all media is a "public trust." I admit to entering this interview with a huge bias. I saw an old wealthy white male heading the FCC and was prepared to roll my eyes for the next 32 minutes. Then Mr. Copps busts this out, and immediately endears himself to me, "We need to stop thinking stockholder, stockholder, stockholder and start thinking stakeholder, stakeholder, stakeholder!"

(Audio: John Stewart at his hysterical (and explicit) best reading from "America: the book.")

I stopped watching commercial television and listening to commercial radio six years ago. I've not once missed either. It's not just that radio and t.v. bore me, though they do; it's not just that I'm busy and don't have much time for radio and t.v., though that is also true; rather, it's an intentional boycott based on political, moral, ethical, and economic reasons. You would never hear these sound bites on commercial television and without them, I fear we will continue to ignore everything but our next pleasure fix.

ISBN ### Wage Peace

ISBN 0-15-603156-6 &
ISBN 978-0-14-303825-2


This post is a double feature. I've just finished two incredible books and I couldn't help but compare them to each other. I've discovered lately an endless fascination with the Middle East, its people, cultures and customs, and complex religions and politics. I'm intentionally seeking an alternative viewpoint to the stories we're being told. I wish every book group in every living room in America would read these books in tandem.

My recent reads are "The Places in Between" by Rory Stewart and "Three Cups of Tea" by Greg Mortenson & David Oliver Relin. Both are non-fiction and both take place in the Middle East. Stewart's in Afghanistan and Mortenson's primarily in Pakistan, but a bit in Afghanistan as well.

Rory Stewart is a Scottish writer/journalist who walked across central Afghanistan, from Herat to Kabul, in early 2002. His walk began in January 2002 just after the fall of the Taliban. "The Places in Between" chronicles Rory's journey like a travel diary and along the way shows both a beautiful, intimate face of Islam and Afghan people who will never make our sensation-addicted news.

Greg Mortenson was a mountain climber making impressive progress up the slope of K2 when he was forced to stop his climb (long story) and make is way back to civilization. In a profound metaphor that is traced throughout the book, Greg wandered off the intended path without realizing it. He eventually ended up in the village of Korphe in the Braldu Valley of the Karakoram mountain range. "Three Cups of Tea" tells the story of one school house being built in Korphe, 55+ subsequent schools being built throughout the remote villages of northeastern Pakistan, and all the adventures in between.

A superficial reading of the two texts could make the distinction that while "The Places in Between" is educational and an interesting travelogue, "Three Cups of Tea" will change the world as we know it. Admittedly, I felt that way about half way through "Three Cups of Tea," which I read after "The Places in Between."

However, having finished both books and allowed them to simmer a bit, I now realize that Stewart's book is deceptively simple and in fact, deeply profound. He does not write didactically and therein lies the subtlety. For example, he shares his experience of being sheltered in each successive village as he also shares the custom of Islam that requires the faithful to offer shelter to any and all travelers. He says no more and lets you think what you will about that fact. This purely journalistic style threads throughout the book, allowing the power of its lessons to remain between the lines, to remain there for you to discover on your own.

One of the gems of this book is that Stewart tells his story in an evenly measured tone and pace, much as his walking is evenly measured and paced. The tone of the book is the tone of a long walk personified and while purely prose, it becomes very fluid and poetic. The plot gracefully moves along as his feet move along through the desert, mountains, and villages of remote central Afghanistan. My reading took on the feeling of meditative walking, I was lulled into the story, and finished the book within just a few days.

Stewart's book also gave me what I was seeking in terms of cultural literacy. I realized at the time I was reading "The Places in Between" how much I was learning, but not until I read "Three Cups of Tea" and realized I could slide through Arabic words, remarks on village culture, and basic tenets of the various sects of Islam did I realize just. how. much. I had learned. Stewart's book is a quiet teacher.

Don't misunderstand, however, and assume that I'm creating a monolith of village culture, or the basic tenets and sects of Islam, or claiming that after these two texts I'm some kind of expert. It is true, however, that after reading these books I'm not only able to acknowledge that vast intricacies exist in the Middle East, but my knowledge of the history, impact, and function of those vast intricacies has increased ten fold. I could not have chosen a more perfect pair of books.

I mentioned that "Three Cups of Tea" leaves you with the overwhelming sense that this book could change the world. I honestly believe that if people would read it (and similar texts) and take to heart its message, we would have a far more peaceful existence on this fragile planet. It's a story of unnerving power and the potential that a single person has to make a huge impact. One brick at a time, one conversation and negotiation at a time, one village at at time, Mortenson has built schools to educate Pakistan's children and counter the rise of militant madrassas. With the endorsement of village mullahs and elders, the schools openly welcome and encourage girls to receive the same education as their male counterparts.

He makes a brilliant point and one understood by many community organizers and activists: "Once you educate the boys, they tend to leave the villages and search for work in the cities. But the girls stay home, become leaders in the community, and pass on what they've learned. If you really want to change a culture, to empower women, improve basic hygiene and health care, and fight high rates of infant mortality, the answer is to educate girls."

There are many profound moments in this book, but I'll share one of my absolute favorites. Mortenson was on one of his many trips to Korphe and in an official meeting of the village elders when a teenage girl named Jahan walked boldly into the room, into the cirle of 30+ men, and sat directly in front of Greg Mortenson. She spoke in Balti and told Mortenson that when he instructed all the school children, years ago, to plan for a bright future and live their dreams, that she had done just that. She said, "I'm ready to begin my medical training and I need twenty thousand rupees." She handed him a petition, written in English, outlining her course schedule, the books and supplies she would need to buy, and where she would live in while attending university in Skardu. Jahan was a graduate of Korphe school's first class and she had clearly learned her greatest lesson.

Kevin Fedarko, a journalist traveling with Mortenson at the time, said, "It was one of the most incredible things I've ever seen in my life. Here comes this teenage girl, in the center of a conservative Islamic village, waltzing into a circle of men, breaking through about sixteen layers of traditions at once: She had graduated from school and was the first educated woman in the valley of three thousand people. She didn't defer to anyone, sat right down in front of Greg, and handed him the product of the revolutionary skills she's acquired."

Rather than fighting wars, Mortenson advocates for a relatively simple systemic change that holds the power to eliminate many of the contributing factors of war. He advocates for education. Can you imagine if our billion+ dollar military budget was invested in our public schools and in public schools around the world?! Mortenson urges, "If we try to resolve terrorism with military might and nothing else, then we will be no safer then we were before 9/11. If we truly want a legacy of peace for our children, we need to understand that this is a war that will ultimately be won with books, not with bombs.

Assalaam Alaikum (Peace be with you).

The fine print: The photos in this post come from threecupsoftea.com and rorystewartbooks.com.

I wanted to experience death

It's a selfish reason to volunteer, but I did have a litany of other motivations.

For one, I hold firmly to my ethic of caring for and about those less fortunate, the sick, the marginalized; but my end goal is social justice and leveling our society to an equal playing field. Another motivation was to introduce myself to a world that I had not yet experienced. Until I pulled my car up to John's house (by request, not his real name) and introduced myself, I'd never personally known someone living with HIV.

I also wanted to take a stand and actively do my small part to protest the influence my church had in passing Amendment 3, making both same-sex marriage and civil unions unconstitutional in the state of Utah. The face of HIV/AIDS on a global scale is incredibly diverse, but in Salt Lake City the community tends to be gay males. The remedy to my church's disappointing and hurtful policies regarding homosexuality is not quite delivering hot meals to home-bound end-stage HIV patients living in Salt Lake; but it was something constructive, something positive, something compassionate that I could do for a community that is wrongly marginalized (even feared) by many members of my faith.

And yes, I also wanted to experience death. It sounds disrespectful, but it's quite the opposite. It was a spiritual and a reverent experience for me. I've only experienced one death in my family, my dad's father. My great-grandmother died when I was too young to process the event and so Otto is the first death to significantly impact me. As is standard operating procedure when emotions are encountered, my family never discussed it. It was abrupt and it was a wholly unsatisfying way to close my relationship with him. I couldn't remedy that specifically but I could face death in general.

Every other Tuesday for nearly three years, as I visited the homes of my friends about to leave this world, I did just that.