Pre-Post week 14--reflections on BP oil disaster

PRE-POST—respond to the readings

• Naomi Klein, "A Hole in the World." Also, become familiar with Klein on her website and/or Wikipedia and watch "In Deep Water," the Fault Lines documentary embedded at the end of Klein’s essay.
• G. Reid Doster, "A Pastoral Essay on the BP Oil Spill" (download PDF)
• Richard P. Olson, "The Calls from the Gulf Shore Tragedy" (download PDF)
• Ernest Callenbach, Ecology: A Pocket Guide, Environmental Justice

Too much. This is too much pain for me to hold! But somehow I do hold it.  We all do in different degrees, don't we?

The video was a vivid and powerful illustration of how big and bad the BP eruption “spill” really was for people and the environment. It is obvious Naomi Klein has a sharp edge to her presentations. I’m not sure I want to Amen everything she’s supported, but I do want to support her edginess because it helps us hear. God knows we have enough voices saying everything corporate America does is good. I’m reminded of a line I read in an editorial, “Corporations are people too.” And the next line was a reference to our bill of rights, replacing corporation for people—“of the corporation, by the corporation, for the corporation.” And then the writer added a  reference to a famous love song “corporations who love corporations are the luckiest corporations in the world.”  And I’m laughing because I can't cry. But it is encouraging to see Klein’s courage—imagine her chutzpa in crossing Isreal’s handling of Palestinians.  

I’m grateful for the thoughtful response written by Dr. Doster, “A Pastoral Essay on the BP Oil Spill.”  “Ambiguous Loss” is a new term to me, but it seems an appropriate description for the complicated pain associated with a techno-disaster, which is an unexpected event, with uncertain facts, illogical circumstances, and it is accompanied by a sense of pervasive dread—wow! As a mom with a severely handicapped daughter there are striking similarities, so I deeply appreciate the challenge to “the prevailing myth that healthy, normal people find proper “closure,” and placed more emphasis on learning how to cope with ambiguity rather than remove it” (40).  And his list of Specific Ways Faith-Communities Can Serve as Instruments of Healing was wonderful. Beginning with giving “more thought and finesse” to their service.  Oddly enough, it is both silence and talking that deeply resonate with my own spirituality. I want to be one who can sit in silence beside those who hurt, and I also know “Human connection and telling one’s story is healing, and…listening often can be just as healing as telling” (43).  I also liked that Doster supported more active responses as well.  “…respond to God’s call to be advocates or prophetic voices that confront chronic community problems, challenge elected officials, and pursue public policy changes…” (48).

“The Calls from the Gulf Shore Tragedy” was meaningful and important for me to hear.

(1)    “ Remember,” Olson writes, “keep informed, and in some way be involved with the ecosystem, creatures, people, and the communities of the Gulf Shore region” (99).  I have heard nothing from the pulpit along these lines, and even though my spirit agrees, I don’t expect new sermons any time soon. It’s so common for human nature to move on, especially in America.  We seem to have such short attention spans.

(2)    Read the Bible Differently—I like how we have been doing this the whole semester.

(3)    Encourage creation –ecological passion in the lives of our churches like community gardens, sharing of garden produce, support locally grown farmers markets (I'm doing some of this :-)

(4)    Lament and repent—Be sorrowful for our part in damaging our world, and repent—change our actions—quit bad practices! (I'm trying to do some of this, too.)

(5)    Insistence on Restorative Justice—ask 3 questions (1) Who was harmed by the violation? (2) What are their needs? (3) Whose obligation is it to meet those needs?

Coming together counts—combined citizen, shareholder, and consumer pressure!

(6)    Advocate Adequate Regulatory Measures—root causes are systemic, and significant reforms in both industry practices and government policies are needed

(7)    Form-Joint Prophetic Efforts—multi-dimensional prophetic effort is needed. First, develop a different lifestyle, one more in keeping with gospel values—lessen our footprints upon this earth with smaller houses, fewer cars, more walking or cycling, more mass transportation, healthier eating, and gardening. Second, an outward thrust—advocate for more research and higher performance of appliances and vehicles, maintain parks and green spaces, protect endangered species, hold polluters accountable.

The entry on Environmental Justice was one more helpful piece.  “…the environmental movement has become more scientifically and socially sophisticated, ordinary people have grown aware that they face environmental problems unknown to the well-to-do, along with overwhelming problems of economic survival.” The slogan, “Not in Anybody’s Back Yard!” really does seem to define environmental justice because corporations should not pollute our air or water, and polluted places should be cleaned up. The section ended with a call to work together—create an alliance between politically experienced environmentalists and people of all classes and colors and ethnic backgrounds.

With all this difficult to hear material, I still have hope. 

Post-Post week 13--creative project "Faithful pressence--keep picking up trash"

After giving it a lot of thought, it seems I don’t have any “creative project to help the environment.” But maybe faithful presence with a willingness to look a bit eccentric will serve the purpose for this assignment.  I’ve been reflecting on the cliché “Think Global—Act Local.”  This really seems a very good guide for all of us.  It is with this thought pulsing in my mind that I began to take plastic bags with me on my regular morning walks so I could pick up trash. I’ve been remarkably faithful in this practice.  (I must admit it was meaningful encouragement to have Katie, our own locally active environmentalist, tell us on our SEU clean-up day that 70% of roadway litter will find its way into nearby bodies of water—ugh!) I like knowing I’m contributing to keeping trash out of the water. And I must admit I enjoy looking at the strip of clean I leave behind meJ  In addition, maybe I’m a good example because last week I actually saw another older woman who I frequently pass on my walks doing the same thing.  About two weeks ago, one of the dads in our neighborhood stopped his van to roll his windows down and thanked me for my clean-up efforts—in front of his twins. And not long before that two little boys that live on my street and their two friends came rushing up to me as I pulled open my mailbox to show me the trash they had picked up on their walk with their moms. And another friend in my neighborhood thanked me personally for picking up the litter near her house. So my “project” is to continue to be faithful, if somewhat eccentric looking, and keep picking up trash during my morning walks.  

Pre-Post Week 13--Ending McKibbon's Eaarth with hope and other thoughts

Eaarth (chapter 6 and Afterward)

After so much gloom and doom, I was thrilled to be encouraged. I liked his practical ideas—

Get back to farming—less pesticides-more organic, cheaper and healthier, sustainable for the long haul, more meaningful work for more people

Think local for energy—windmills, river hydro-power, sun powered solar panels, even manure waste

Think alternative ways of transportation—bikes, walking, public buses

Think local for food—urban farmers’ markets, home grown gardens

Internet connections—cheap to access, and gives us variety for exploring lots of interesting things, decentralized information sources

It’s funny, I’m the one who needs hope, but I think maybe  Mc Kibben’s positive outlook is too much because for it to really work he is assuming we will all be folks filled with compassion and integrity. Human nature doesn’t always work that way, so I want to add that we need to bring our Christian perspective to these issues. A perspective that includes sacrifice. We need to stay connected to God as our source because there will be folks that will continue to act selfishly, and we need grace for their wastefulness. We want to be able to do the right thing even when others take advantage of our sacrifice.

I also enjoyed the video Greening the ghetto. It is so easy to accept dead end stereotyping of lost places.  I liked that there was a person with a vision of something different, and that person was a woman J  I even liked that she challenged Al Gore when she said things shouldn’t be so top down.

Pre-Post week 12--responding to the end of The Word for World is Forest

The second half of the book was sad and hard to read—all four chapters of it.

I wonder how Le Guin felt writing Ch 5.  She certainly packed a lot into it.  (I loved the small detail of the Athsheans carving figures of themselves in wood, not stone (p 106).)  Lyubov’s insights were pitch perfect—knowing how his people made easy pronouncements about the Athsheans being lazy or not sleeping instead of taking time to understand them (p. 107).  The deeply personal agonizing he does—Had his fear in fact been the personal fear that Selver might, having learned racial hatred, reject him, despise his loyalty, and treat him not as ‘you,’ but as ‘one of them’? (top of p 111). And the whole touching process of the Athsheans works as a critique of our ways of touching—some of the colonists sneered, unable to see in these touch-exchanges anything but their own eroticism which, forced to concentrate itself exclusively on sex and then repressed and frustrated,…every humane response…(p 111). Using Lyubov’s dilemma Le Guin expertly explores the effects of the choices we make. “He (Lyubov) preferred to be enlightened rather than to enlighten; to seek facts rather than the Truth.  But even the most unmissionary soul…is sometimes faced with a choice between commission and omission. “What are they doing? Abruptly becomes, “What are we doing? And then, “What must I do?” (p 124).  Le Guin makes it plain that because he loved his friend he wrote “a soothing report, and the most inaccurate one” (top of p 127). We forgive him because he made his decision based on inaccurate information, too. He didn’t know about the killing Davidson had done or that the Athsheans were indeed preparing to murder everyone. He was fully warned, but he couldn’t fully hear much less heed the message perhaps in part because it came from his friend.  

The unfolding violence of the other chapters was no surprise, but still, it was rough going. I did like that Davidson’s life was spared and that he received creative justice—banishment to Dump Island.

The very last lines—Selver’s reflection about the future—“Lyubov will be here…Davidson will be here.  …Both of them. Maybe after I die people will be as they were before I was born, and before you came.  But I do not think they will. (p 189). This is not an expression full of positive feelings, but neither is it completely dark. What Le Guin has done is capture the complexity of pain and not knowing. But I believe she might also want us to remember Lyubov’s creed—“In diversity is life and where there’s life there’s hope… (p 125).  Ah, yes,…hope.  

Post-Post week 11--Miracle Dreams, a short story

Anna M. Cotton

Miracle Dreams The berries are red and ripe, and we have more than enough. (What a blessing in these days since the second big famine!) Well, I’ll be packing some up to share with our neighbors and even old Mr. Grump, champion complainer. And of course, I’ll

12:31 PM

Miracle Dreams

The berries are red and ripe, and we have more than enough. (What a blessing in these days since the second famine!) Well, I’ll be packing some up to share with our neighbors and even old Mr. Grump, champion complainer. And of course, as a safety measure, I’ll deliver them under cover of night. We all certainly know how important it is to be on our guard against old Grump's lack of understanding, but that’s another story.

The simple truth is I owe it all to Ruth. She’s the one who talked all the time about her dreams, and Chris would roll his eyes or wink or nod politely while thinking his own thoughts. But I stayed with her so much I learned to listen and sort out the truth. Her favorite dream was when the kids were little and she could see them peaking around corners or from behind the last big tree in the yard. She’d laugh so hard telling that simple story that tears ran in rivulets down her wrinkled cheeks.

But it quit being funny to us when the miracles started. Oh, looking back now I wonder what I missed, but there was no mistaking the first dramatic one. It happened on a day when I took her for a rare outside walk. She stopped where one of the new trees was struggling, and she said, “I see them now.” No one was there of course, but she wouldn’t leave until I came to look. I was shocked to see the ground covered in healthy elf-form mushrooms. You know the kind—tiny, tender, tasty, and full of vitamins but outrageously expensive since the second famine. Well, it didn’t take me a quick minute to run inside for a pan knowing we had just found lunch. Chris, I and Ruth loved the soup I stirred up with those mushrooms, and we were careful to give God thanks, but we kept our mouth shut about the blessing.

"A fluke you know," he said. And of course I agreed. But then a few days later Ruth wanted another outside walk and bless her heart I understood and off we shuffled together. And it happened again. How weird was that?  And then she took to sending me outside on certain days to look for her, saying she saw them in her dreams. Sure enough they kept coming back but only when she said, “I see them now.” Chris started calling her his dream baby. It was a hoot really, Ruth with her stooped shoulders and flabby, pale skin. She certainly wasn’t anybody’s vision of a hot babe, but we all chuckled at the joke and slurped happily at our miracle soup.

Ruth had other dreams too. Like the time she told me about seeing leaves in her sleep. Well, seeing leaves is a pretty vague dream if you ask me. But I was with her, sitting right here in a comfortable silence, and just sort of gazing at the standard issue eggplants everybody grows these days, when suddenly a long leaf unfurled before our very eyes. Now we all know leaves do this, but there we were witnesses, so to speak, at the exact moment of birth. It was a sweet miracle, and we both knew it. She reached over and patted my hand saying, “See,” and I did. But that wasn't the end. Two amazing things happened with that plant--we harvested more of those veggies than usual, and they actually tasted wonderful. Well, we were careful to give God thanks, but we kept our mouth shut about the blessing.

Then, slowly, over time, Ruth said our abundance was an "opportunity for sharing," and because we had learned to trust her way of seeing things, we started to share with a few of our needy neighbors. (And we're all needy since the second famine, aren't we?) But we're careful never to use the word miracle. We don't think folks would understand--certainly not Mr. Grump. But that's another story for another time.

Pre-Post week 11--The Word for World is Forest--a real page turner!

Pre-Post week 11—responding to Ursula Le Guin first four chapters

Because I am a Le Guin fan, I really enjoyed reading the FAQ on her website.  This is one of my favorite quotes—“I love living almost as well as I love writing. It was tough trying to keep writing while bringing up three kids, but my husband was totally in it with me, and so it worked out fine. Le Guins' Rule: One person cannot do two fulltime jobs, but two persons can do three fulltime jobs — if they honestly share the work.  The idea that you need an ivory tower to write in, that if you have babies you can't have books, that artists are somehow exempt from the dirty work of life — rubbish.”
And I was encouraged by reading the rejection letter she got for the award winning Left Hand of Darkness. I have a funny story about this book.  We had it in our house, and Rickey and I had both zipped right through it.  Our babysitter found it on the end table got hooked reading it after our girls had gone to bed. She took it home and stayed up reading it at her house and left it on the coffee table.  Her dad came in and picked it up.  He spent the day reading it, and at church on Sunday he ran up to me asking, “Does Le Guin have any more books like that?”   This is hardly a boring book, and I bet the editor who missed that connection was sorry later.

This is my second time to read The Word for World is Forest, and although I really enjoyed it my first time through, I’m discovering things I missed the first time.  For instance, the whole ansible thing, instant communication device, which sounds a lot like computers to me.  Pretty prophetic because PCs weren’t even around in the early 70s. And I loved how Ursula Le Guin had a sense of humor about it--In Dispossessed,(c 1974) the ansible gets invented; but they're using it in Left Hand(c 1968) (and in The Word for World is Forest c 1972) Please do not try to explain this to me. I will not understand.

The second time through I knew I was pulling for the creechies—a meter tall and covered with green fur. And I knew that Captain Davidson view of creechies as lazy, dumb, treacherous, and not able to feel pain was dead wrong. In fact, the whole naming thing caught my attention this time.  Sam was really Selver from Sornol, not a Creechie. Creechie was a derogatory slang term for Asthenians, which were indeed humans. (I’m told it is quite common for American soldiers to call Iraq citizens Hajjis. Creating negative terms has a long sour history, doesn’t it? )

Interestingly, it is only when the review board from the visiting space ship confronts the core issue of humanness that the problems are brought to light and named. (p 76) Or interrupted the Colonel. “…But you knew that the hilfs of this planet are human? As human as you or I or Lepennon—since we call came from the same, original, Hainish stock?

“This is the scientific theory, I am aware—“

“Colonel, it is the historic fact.”

“I am not forced to accept it as a fact…” the old Colonel said.

Indeed! This not accepting of fact had terrible consequences for everyone—death and destruction. The only character who cared, Dr. Lyubov, powerfully expressed the concern wondering “...if they (the creechies )are not proving their adaptability…For four years they’ve behaved to us as they do to one another. Despite the physical differences, they recognized us as members of their species, as men…we have not responded as members of their species should respond.  We have ignored the responses, the rights and obligations of non-violence.  We have killed, raped, dispersed, and enslaved the native humans, destroyed their communities, and cut down their forests. It wouldn’t be surprising if they’d decided that we are not human.” (p 75).

I deeply enjoyed rereading the section where Selver returns to the forest for healing. I liked that it included a deep connection to dreaming. And I had to smile when Le Guin made the men the primary dreamers (Biblical isn’t it—your old men will dream dreams and your young men will see visions?) The women ran the cities and towns. The women were the doers—(p 96) He (her brother the Great Dreamer) saw what must be done; she saw that it was done.

I’m looking forward to finishing the book.  It is a real page turner, too—even the second time around.