Enough!

The Museum of Science and Industry 

We the people wanted power for industrial creation, 

So we harnessed a river to move some gears to grind the flour. 

Harmless. 

In some places, it was donkeys or horses, gravity, or steam. 

Power, energy, fire. 

Harmless. 

Life was so hard...cleaning clothes, cooking and preserving food, 

Heating homes in cold places. So, "lesser" humans did the work. 

Hard work, horrible, hard work and hurt, for free, ...no place for me, 

No place for me up there. 

Set her free and help her babies, more than three…babies, babies, harmless, like me. Make more power. More babies, more food, more houses, more clothing, more time...got to keep it all going. 

Harmless. 

Not just light to light the darkness, now there are waves repeating, repeating all day long. Refrigerator, stove, cable cars, plug me in!! Harmless. 

Hospitals, fire department, telephones, help us, help us, help us. 

More survive, more for longer, healthier lives, harmless, harmless, harmless. 

Where fire smoke choked the air, now smog, heat, and acid rain, 

beautiful sunsets, airplane rides, exotic foods, and Internet brides. 

If we could choose, we'd do it again, and again. 

See more, feel more, live more, know more. 

More for me, and those like me. Chemical madness. 

More drugs, less bugs, less hugs. 

Harmless. 

Demand progress, supply and demand, and curiosity.   

Magnets, static, angry wind. 

All God's power, made by men. 

Marie Curie, her night light rocks 

So long before a cancer cure, fission fusion essence of life, 

A cell divides, divided cells, bombing pieces, into peace, 

You are she, and they, and it. Life is here and now it's gone. 

Gone gone, gone beyond, beyond the beyond, 

in the refuge of the Walrus.  All of us together, 

Splitting, and splicing new life to save a life. 

Save so many lives. More lives saved. 

More. 

Harmless. 

Whale oil, Moby Dick, matching might, for light. More light. 

Perfume, a story about smelling good. Your smell, we stole your smell! Your oil, your fat for that. Only for that. Oil, precious oil, miracle of oil, Divine holy oil. Holy war, blood for oil. 

Her blood's not blood, but rotting life deep below.  

Carbon carbon everywhere, 

Breathing out this breath of life, and in and out, 

Through this damn respirator, close to death, 

Plugged in to life support. 

Even brain death cannot bring me closer to heaven. 

Kerosene oil, coal from the depths, alchemical joules.    

My blue ridge mountains take me home to light the sacrificial flame 

of our resistance.  

In the wilderness, we are tempted to return again and again to shop and carry, swagger and sparkle, just to make a buck. Walk on the wild side, walk on by, my curious heart lookin' for love in all the wrong places. 

Big city delight, up all night, a life on stage, on the screens,

and glossy pages. Got a job, money, a friend, a flat, even an exotic cat. 

Anything money can buy, anything, everything, my heart's desire. Harmless. Harmless desire. 

Make enough to meet demand. We supply, we demand. 

So much light, it fills the sky, where pop stars live on Mars, 

Making food from synthetic dreams that feed on fear, trail of tears. 

Oceans of tears. Twenty years of tears, 

A holy war beckons end of times, a revelation born in the desert

Under starry starry night. 

So beautiful. So calm and bright. 

Silent silence on the right and silence on the left. 

Somewhere in the middle is a place where heaven and Earth collide at the speed of light. Stop time, stop in time, step in time with Shiva's dance, across the universe, and on and on. I love you. 

I love you so much, my beautiful child. My beautiful harmless child.  

This is a poem I "downloaded" all at once from divine inspiration while I followed my 7 and 9 year old children through the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry.  It was, in part, an answer to questions that arose over a period of time following growing awareness around the causes of earthquakes in Kansas and Oklahoma in the United States.  My mother lives in Harper County, Kansas, just over the southern border from Oklahoma.  The folks who live in the county, on the whole, have not experienced the extreme consequences of the economic depression of the last 10 years due to the discovery and use of modern oil and natural gas fracturing methods, including new disposal methods for the high saline water produced when deep oil areas like the Mississippian Play are drilled.

The rest of my family lives in Northern California, the state capitol of Sacramento and the home of one of the first hydro electric dam projects in the country.  In its antiquated form, it has been kept as a historical site. 

As I attempted to explain the concept of energy to my children, we couldn't miss the opportunity to explore the origins of power.  

Seeing as how power seems to be the heart of our American culture in so many ways, this was a tangible explanation of our present condition.  How can we explain to our children the choices we have made over time to increase our dependence on oil and electricity as a symbol of prosperity.  

My eventual response was to sit quietly with all that I know and feel about power and to ask the question, "How will we live now?". 

Learn more:  Hydro Power and Power: An Indigenous Rights Perspective 

                      Solar Energy for Kids (In India!)  (Youtube Film) 

A Radical Kind Of Love

When I observe my Quaker community with eyes of love, I see great potential for societal change.  I see it in the way long-time Friends address expressed disparities in opportunities for leadership by young people.  I see it in the response from young Friends when they see the good intentions of long-time Friends as they falter and struggle to listen.  It's this certain kind of perfection that persists in the Society of Friends and it's this hope and resilience that keeps Friends from leaving our small international community of spiritual peace activists.  And now, it is the humble, yet disturbing realization that American Friends have continued to accept privilege from a white supremacist, dominant culture.  Friends of color have been excluded from leadership since emancipation but resilient in delivering a loving message of imperfection despite now welling anger and sadness at the ignorance of many Friends.

Though it is a powerful temptation to step back and criticize our communities and organizations for their ongoing acceptance of power over others, it is more in alignment with the leadings of the Spirit to point out all of the reasons why we can change.  It is right to open our eyes to the tragic difference between who we can be and who we are right now.  To have this vision of a world transformed, means hearing the prophetic voices of Friends who are describing what this new world of inclusion looks like and how we as Friends look when we are in it.  Together, we must hold hands and leap across the river of disbelief and arrive hand in hand on the other side, where all are welcomed, encouraged, empowered, and acknowledged for their gifts, regardless of how the dominant culture functions. 

When Friends walk by the leadings of Spirit in every step, we are guided through darkness and tribulation with hope and joy.  When we keep in the presence of the Light and refresh ourselves constantly with the breath of this presence, we are with one another beyond the walls of the meetinghouse.  Yet, we are not separate from those around us, who have nothing to do with the Society of Friends and could care less about whether we are humble or honest.  It is out in the world, walking with Black Lives Matter and others that are not Friends' organizations, where we shine with this strength.  When we walk in the Light of God/Spirit, this Light is in each living presence we encounter, but most importantly, it shines on our darkness as well.  For me, it is like being hugged and held by a forgiving, strengthening, and loving force that is coming from within and yet is all around.  I feel safe, and at the same time very awake to the violence and inequality I sense around me, sometimes apparent only in imperceptibly small ways.  It is gratitude I feel when I walk in this way.  

It is the belief in our ability as humans to be in this radically loving place that I hope I share with all Quakers that gives me the strength to stay in this vision of transformation beyond the reality of violence and inequality.  

Learn More:  Fit For Freedom, Not For Friendship (Book) 
                      Women of Color Speak Out (Seattle)

The Gathering

Dr. Nekima Levy Pounds, a civil rights attorney, community organizer, and law professor, spoke to Friends gathered in the wake of yet another killing of a man of color by police in Minneapolis. She spoke to us as the holders of privilege and authority. Here is a poem that arose out of this event. 

VOICES 

Speak to me truly 

this time I tell you 

I will hear my place 

On top is killing 

My place where I am safe 

And you are not

For property returned undone 

Undone of self respect 

We cannot confiscate

Cannot conceal 

Hands are up to silence 

This murmur long and deep 

Hands up, don't shoot 

Hands up for a silent silence 

In a room screaming 

Say you're sorry! 

Give it back! 

It's not yours to take 

Or give 

Or live

All you got is time to listen

Open up your ears to hear

Your eyes to see 

Your whole selfs got to change

You're  a fragile egg shell 

Holding seeds of tiny prisoners 

In your hands

Who, instead of saving, you eat for breakfast next to the pigs and Irish potatoes

Whistling a tune for 

Woe be gone days when me and mine had all there was 

All the power 

All the land

All the rights

All the freedom 

Stolen from the flesh 

Of our own righteousness. 

Away away in Dixieland, there flows a river of blood wide and long, from South to North and West to East out into the desert growing in our hearts. 

And now you know, have always known. And love flows in, and through, for you, my children, for you. For you are now and this is when we stop our hands a wringing and set the system free.

Learn More:  Interview With Nekima Levy-Pounds- On Schools

Friends Journal: A Journey Toward Eliminating Racism In The Religious Society of Friends

Catch And Release

Portland Race Talks, is introduced each month by Donna Maxey using an analogy…that having white privilege is like being fish in the water.  It’s white folks’ water. The world we live in is the water in which we swim, eat, play, and everything else, and we have a hard time understanding why others who need something other than this particular water cannot thrive in a white privilege environment.  The privilege is so pervasive that light skinned folks can’t describe it any more than a bird can describe air.  

To seek equity, it seems white folks would need to be like a fish out of water.  I remember thinking to myself the first time I heard this, if a white woman like me can achieve the American dream in spite of inequality, everyone else must be able to get what I have?  What I failed to see was that I had married a well employed white man to get what I have.  I have the privilege of marrying for love, but I can't help but wonder if color influenced my ultimate choice.  In my culture, to be truly transformed, one must seek the truth and struggle against the anesthetizing effects of having everything we ever wanted.  

I’ll try to speak to this.  Even if I fail or worse, offend. 

Underneath all of this success, for me, is a dark pain. I know the long history of oppression that has led to my success and that it continues every time I take advantage.  Some of the sadness comes from a place of fear, that there is only a tiny morsel of success and if I don’t use it, someone else will and then I will have to fail knowing it's for the common good.  In reality, there is plenty of success.  I have engaged in group-gluttony for so long that it hurts to have less so that everyone can have enough.  There isn’t a limit to “success”, there is a limit to my success. It takes time to shrink my hunger for material happiness, so I am always looking for something to replace the kind of sustenance to which I have become accustomed.  I replace it with service, faith, community connection, laughter, creativity, curiosity, family love, friendship, story telling, teaching, organizing, nature, and more.  The hard part comes when I have to look at what the world around me is defining as happiness. 

There are new, glossy, pretty, and useful products being invented, created, sold, consumed and used as a way to connect with others.  The illusion is to believe that I could have more success if I take part in this production process and that not taking part in this process means we will all fail.  It’s as if I am actually hurting people like me when I refuse to succeed in this agreed upon way, to take that promotion at work, to get that book published, to get my kid in that good school, to get that loan, buy that house, go to that good college, look like those models, talk like people in the movies.  Every time I say, yes, I support the system.  But, how can I walk along side all of this temptation and be different?

Stopping to be quiet in all of this enticement is one way I start to observe and see through the illusion.  The joy I feel in looking at the stars in the sky, hugging someone I love, hearing amazing music, reading a poem, or dancing, is enough to shake off the illusion, but the loneliness I feel when I am excluded can be overwhelming.  This exclusion is nothing compared to oppression. 

Fish Out of Water by Glee 2009 

I go to Gandhi to remember to live simply that others may simply live.  I am nowhere near Gandhi's kind of simplicity, but I see his vision as something I will do someday when I am braver than I am now.  

The other helpful idea is to understand the notion of a commons.

The commonsis the cultural and natural resources accessible to all members of a society, including natural materials such as air, water, and a habitable earth. These resources are held in common, not owned privately. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Commons

If we all have equal access to common resources, like success, a good job, health, community support, etc. and we have a say in the future of these common resources, we have the opportunity to lead a full life.  I can’t recall now the specific study, but I was about the success of the commons being that if we all take just what we need and not more, we all succeed in the long run.  If any one of us takes more that we need, we all fail in the end.  I am reminded of what often happens after a natural disaster in an urban environment, a run on goods, like water, food, medicine, and more.  Humans are always portrayed as feeling panic when we think there isn’t enough to go around.  And worse, we are often told that this is human nature, survival of the fittest. 

Truly, when we all agree to put the resources into a common space and calmly talk about how we will all get what we need, there is peace and we all live in the end.  If we come at this panic in a society where one person is considered lesser than another, the recourse is to grab as much as possible so that the lesser might have less that is needed to survive.  This is why practicing non-competition is so essential to creating an equitable society.  Engaging in friendly dialogue across boundaries, playing non-competitive or co-operative games, using consensus or unity process in group-decision-making, and restorative justice methods in response to dysfunctional behavior are useful ways of practicing. 

What about the pain I feel when I realize how much other folks have suffered for my success?  After all, the real work here is to create equity, to put up what has been put down by making way, stepping aside and speaking up.  How do I check in with this suffering in a healthy way?  Or maybe this is the goal, to break open.  I’ve been told to lean into it.  What?  Lean into the pain and feel it completely to understand it.  Don’t treat it as if it is just another day, business as usual.  Listen to or read the stories of people who have suffered.  Sit down, stop everything, go for a walk, talk to a good friend, talk to the pain and ask what it needs to feel heard.  Then speak to this pain in yourself, even if quietly at first, or in poetry, or in a small gestures.  Be tender.  This, for now, has been good advice.  Like a fish out of water, I feel the thirst for comfort and the struggle it takes to be whole. 

For me, being Quaker is like being a fish out of water in American society, where materialism, competition, militarism and growing economic inequality are the norm.  But, as for white privilege, Quakers have in some part individually been accepting of white success, even with a testimony of Simplicity and one of Equality. Still others have worked to change this.  In terms of fish and water, I think this means I will need to keep swimming, but endeavor to learn how to create water that is alive for everyone.  

A large portion of humanity have been misled into believing that their happiness depends upon their possessions, position, power, prosperity and all the other adjuncts of material well-being--and even if they do not have them, they believe this and strive for them.  Some, faced with a truth that proclaims something diametrically different, will abandon their illusions.  Others, however, will cling to them; and the more they are threatened by reality, the more desperately they will cling.  Often they will attempt to evade the threat to their precariously ill-founded sense of security by attacking the peace maker.  For this reason, throughout history, many have been slain. -Adam Curle 1981 

Learn More: Debby Irving: Finding Myself In The Story Of Race (Ted Talks)