break down.

today, as i was christmas shopping, i broke down and started to cry on market street. my hands were full, it was raining slightly, i was waiting for the light to change so i could cross the street and my phone rang. it was my husband, michael, calling from work. he asked how my day was going and right at that moment, an old man across the street, also waiting to cross, fell down to the ground. i guess the ramp was slippery from the rain. the man was homeless and black and- here's the thing- though there were several people standing nearby, no one tried to help him.

i can hear my husband talking but i'm not listening because i can't believe there's an old man on the street trying to get up and i'm too far away to help (and might get hit by a car if i try). i say into the phone, michael- some old homeless dude just fell and no one is helping him.

the fallen homeless man reaches him arm up to the closest person to him and this person helps him up. the light changes but i can't move. i can't believe the callousness or fear or... i don't know what. i'm still on the phone with michael just standing there, watching the old man continue down the block alone. he's wearing many layers of clothing and has a large ratty bag. i feel bad for the old guy and wonder what he might think if i approached him to say, i'm sorry no one tried to help you up. i'm sorry... i was across the street.

i'm thinking about this and the guy is half way down the block already and michael is saying something but i'm not listening and i know this is rude but this man, this man that fell... i follow him down the street and say, hey, here and hand him some money.

then i turn around and immediately start to cry. michael says, i gotta go. i say, i love you. i put the phone in my pocket and cry all the way to my car.

fake sale.

there is a school on my corner and today as i returned from the grocery i  noticed a sign that said BAKE SALE TODAY! so i peeked in. i was disappointed, not surprised, irritated, amused... because the bake sale table was full of store bought donuts, cookies and cupcakes!

really? really, we are all so busy that we can't bake a dozen cupcakes for our child's school??? or what? what?

sad.

Haiti.

So, I'm going to Haiti. I leave San Francisco on January 4th and the U.S. on January 5th. I read this article in National Geographic (http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2008/09/soil/bourne-text) about Haiti last week. And I couldn't stop thinking about it. About Haiti and how much the people there are suffering. I did some research and contacted a woman named Sasha Kramer who was quoted in the article.

The thing that bothers me most about Haiti is that people don't seem to care. It's the poorest country in the western hemisphere and has a long history of corruption. Because the nation has no natural resources and the people are widely non-Christian and black, no one gives a fuck what happens there. For me, it is all too reminiscent of New Orleans; Kanye West said it perfectly in the days following Hurricane Katrina, "George Bush doesn't care about black people." I think this is true for Haiti, as well.

I read a lot about young people beating others to death. These are often called "hate crimes" and, no doubt, these afflictions are deeply rooted in hate. But I think the term itself all but justifies these crimes. I am not saying that homophobia, racism and sexism do not exist- they absolutely do. But, the issues are deeper. We are raising children who value themselves so minimally that they are unable to value other people. Children so angry and alone, they will lash out at some time and at some one. Just ending racism won't fix the problem. Columbine is a good example. Children who are so insecure and looking for a way to be heard, to matter are capable of hurting themselves or someone else regardless of color, sexuality or gender.

So we have multiple layers of problems. We must end racism and homophobia and sexism and classism and ableism. But we must also foster self-esteem in our young people. We must seek justice in our lives and the lives of others. We must live responsibly. There are no more excuses. The Global Market has created a global exchange of information.

As I write, my husband is watching a documentary about Darfur. I hear a child crying, saying, "We have nothing... we have nothing." This is the world we live in. I am ashamed, embarrassed, guilty. And, simultaneously, hopeful, proud and full of positive energy.

The Constant Gardener is a fantastic movie. About drug companies testing drugs on African people basically without their consent.

I charge you with taking the time to help others, to make this world better than it is now, to fucking care about people besides yourself and your circle of family and friends. A change of heart is powerful and that's all it takes.

Peace.

mind shift

sometimes, as simple as it seems or sounds, i personally find it painfully hard to shift my thinking away from a me-centered realm to one of universal compassion. by universal compassion i mean a deep and active concern for people i don't know, people i won't meet or see ever.

what i mean is... when i think about consumption, most of the time, i think in terms of spending money on stuff i don't need and how that affects me. so i buy something. then the money is gone. and i have this thing (whatever it is, it's mostly all the same) that in a few months or a few years i don't want or need anymore and i have to throw it away. then i feel a little guilty about making garbage. sometimes though if i'm feeling low, i figure, fuck it, it makes me feel better and life is short. and i want it. so i'll buy it. the cycle is consume->guilt or don't consume->feel like i'm missing out

but if i simply shift my mind to the other side. and ask myself- where did this come from? who made it? how was it made? how did it get here? what environmental and social issues were created or perpetuated by the creation and transport of the product? what is life like for the person who sewed this sweater or painted this hoochamathingy?

because, when the affect is not mine alone- my guilt or my gratification- when i consider the affect of the people- yes, fucking people make the shit they sell at targetwalmartbedbathbeyondme- along the way, then i can clearly see i don't want this cheap (or expensive, as the case may be) piece of junk.

www.storyofstuff.com

awesome, eye opening movie. 20 minutes long. give it a view.

post-modern post-punk post-consumerism

the truth is hard to swallow,

it'll leave you scarred tomorrow,

keep it honest is our motto.

this is the hostile gospel.

-talib kweli

we be: living in san francisco, married, mid-thirties, no chirrin, white, lower middle class (?)

we was: from the dirty south- born in birmingham, raised in atlanta and queens; and born and raised in winston-salem

we do: gardening, cooking, eating, drinking wine and cocktails, art, music, composting, finding ways to consume less, trying to make our own way, writing, reading, volunteering, hiking, going to the beach, being outside, traveling, thinking, not thinking

we values: sustainability, equity, honesty, hard-work, simplicity, pacifism (mostly), inclusivity, diversity, LOVE

we like: atlantathinkfestival.org

www.freefarmstand.org

www.storyofstuff.com

www.gardenfortheenviornment.org

www.mipham.com

www.nowartax.org

aeinstein.org

www.salon.com

www.pacifica.org

until then...