activism

there was a short time where i thought i might take a stab at writing about the occupy movement - come up with witty sociopolitical commentary and seem so astute and current.  i've spent a lot of time reading about occupy, spoken to friends who have been at wall street, and have been to some of the events here in corvallis and on campus.  what i have decided (at least where this post is involved), is that there are far more brilliant and well-read people out there discussing the finer points of the occupy movement, and my ideas would just clutter the stage.  philosopher and political commentator i am not.

i used to consider myself an activist.  i did all kinds of things to make my political or social point.  i held signs, chanted, wore t-shirts over my work clothes on campus...no homelessness! animal rights! no war in iraq!  it was not until i was being tossed, covered in ketchup, into the back of a cop car to be held as a scare tactic (illegally i might add) that i started thinking about my time as an activist to see whether or not it was working out for me.  with high fructose corn syrup and vinegar burning my eyes i started to see that perhaps, for me, activism was not the way to go.

now, there are those in my life who tell me that i have no thing resembling a light touch.  they might be right.  once i decided that i was not going to be an activist, or at least the incarnation of that identity that i had created, i denounced it top to bottom.  hell no i'm not one of THEM!  those people are wasting every one's time.

what i've realized since then is that there are so many ways to enact activism.  one does not have to be a part of a die-in at the center of an intersection in order to influence people based on the cause one believes in.  i woke to this concept my second year at washington state university.  a strict vegan and environmentalist (i never stopped caring about the causes), i learned that my students paid close attention to what i was up to.  when we went out to meals they saw what i ate.  they looked at the clothes i wore, and when they were at my apartment they learned that i did not flush the toilet every time i used it.  they saw me ride my bike to the main office rather than drive.  they saw the books on my shelves.  it did not take long for a) the less curious to label me a hippie and move on, and b) the more curious to start asking my all-time favorite question...why?

when people ask why it is such an amazing gift.  it means you get to TELL THEM.  they want to hear it - they asked.  you have the ability to stand on a soapbox and have your words fall on open ears.  the first time a student asked me why i was vegan the conversation ended over an hour later.  the student thought my reasons were compelling, and asked me if i could do a program for her floor where we all cooked a fully vegan meal to demonstrate that vegan food was accessible to all.  it was a lot of fun!  this opened up conversation among the staff about food and culture and health and environment and economics.  once the students realized i was game for questions the flood gates were open...and i started to ask them questions too...and they started asking one another.  since then i have to the best of my ability encouraged and supported people in my life whenever they ask me that lovely question. WHY?

going back to the vegan thing.  once my students' consciousnesses were raised they started telling me things they did and saw.  one student loved to report to me when he'd eaten a vegan meal.  another would let me know whether or not foods in the dining center were ok for me to eat.  all of my staff started asking their students whether there were any specific dietary needs before buying food for the floor.  with 'why' as our start we had opened up a world of information, advocacy, and shifted perspectives.  as i watched this happen i realized that i don't need to hold signs or chant to change minds.  i shifted how i saw myself to that of an educator-activist.  i chose to live my life by my ideals out where people could see it.  when they inquired i would use that as an opportunity to teach.

in the past two years though i have shifted this view a bit farther.  i spent some time struggling to make ends meet - in poverty, unable to pay my bills, living in a car.  i wanted so badly for people to just see that what was happening was not ok, and that the system and the world around me were flawed and hurting people.  it was at this point that i realized how privileged my view had been with regards to enacting change.  living my life by my ideals implied that a) i had the access and resources to do so, b) there were not other things that took up my energy (like getting food or staying warm) that kept me from educating others, and c) that people would listen.  the first two made a lot of sense - clearly money, time, and energy are resources that one must have in order to sit back and wait for the world to notice and listen.  the third thing, that people might not listen regardless, was foreign to me.  being homeless or not having enough food or money is to be invisible to others.  in my case people could not look at me and see that i was struggling.  i had a nice car, and clothes, and appeared to be doing just fine.  for others who appear to be struggling or homeless it's even worse.  people don't look at them.  they blame them for their situation, and largely ignore them.  it is rare that a person experiencing homelessness gets asked 'why?'  if they are asked, it is rare that people who hear what they have to say believe it.

so what does that mean for me now?  well i am grateful to be back in a place where people do listen, and i still often wait to have the lovely 'why' thrown my way.  that said, i strive to speak out more about my own experiences and the experiences of others rather than waiting for peoples' curiosities to lead them there.  i recently went out to the quad to join up with the walk-out that was part of the occupy osu movement.  it felt strange and awkward for me to stand among the sign holders again.  i wondered if i should even be there, and had this sense that perhaps i was an impostor in that world.  when the time came for people to speak at the human mic, i stepped up and said a piece about students experiencing homelessness.  i felt excited to advocate for others, and saddened that often my students who struggle need me to be their voice because people are more likely to listen.  that leads me to another thing i try to do - be an ally and advocate for those who are not a privileged as i. 

the last thing i do is i refuse to keep quiet about things that are shamed in society.  i spoke today to a group of people from the corvallis community who are engaged in a professional and leadership development series.  while speaking about some of the challenges my students faced, i shared a bit about my story.  my hope is that when a person in business casual, with cards that are emblazoned with the letters MA, steps up and talks about living in a car that this will change peoples ideas about being homeless.  i also hope that in simply putting words to my story that i can show that these are issues we need to talk about - not just sweep them under the carpet.  recently i was speaking with a group of students and mentioned that i deal with anxiety - mental illness, another stigma - and when the conversation was over one of the students came to me and thanked me for sharing.  she too dealt with anxiety, and my 'outing' myself made her feel safer to talk about her experience.  if shame and stigma keep these issues silent and invisible people will not get what they need.  if in putting my own stuff out there helps others and disrupts the silence...i'm on it.

so am i an activist?  i suppose i am.  i suppose i've never not been one despite my strong need to denounce activism.  activists seek change - they disrupt - they don't just go with the flow.  seems like good company to be in if you ask me.

unemployment is the new black

loved the article i read in time magazine this week - 'the dropout economy' by reinan salam. i read it and felt even farther tapped in to what has been going on for me since my arrival back in the states. something that has been brewing in my mind for quite a long time, but is now starting to surface as more real than imagined.

salam talked about how more and more young people in the us are opting out of education, jobs, and the taxable economy. his vision of the future is one of intentional communities, barter systems, virtual classrooms, and a throwback to traditional agriculture. these subcultures are simultaneously local and global, traditional and modern.

they are the very things that i am seeing throughout my life and the lives of my friends. people are heading to the wilds to homestead, staying home to create photography or life coaching businesses, and keeping their kids home to attend online high schools. at wintercount there seemed to be more and more apprenticeships offered for people to learn self-sufficiency. friends' parents are become steadfast to the slow foods movement, shopping mostly at farmers' markets.

if you know me well you know that i am constantly balancing between this world and the mainstream. i struggle with issues of ego that push me to value my experiences and situation on a more conventional scale. at the same time i long to live outside of the chorus that presses me to seek the higher paying job or prestigious degree. it's why i came to the utah desert - to opt out of the 'what's next' phenomenon that i followed blindly through two college degrees and into a closet full of pants suits i tried not to wear. i say this not to dis this way of life, but simply to demonstrate that though for several years i wondered if it was for me, i stayed in it because i felt i had to.

it was a huge deal for me to work in the desert of utah with troubled teens. i took a big pay cut and derailed my career plans. i took phone calls and emails for the first six months or so from people in the student affairs field who thought that tossing job opportunities my way might coax me out of my quixotic journey. i lived in my car and in the basement at aspen.

i loved it.

four years later i sit where the end of my fourth year intersects with my thirtieth birthday. i have spent the past 5 months traveling, reflecting, playing, learning, and enjoying being essentially unemployed. it was a very scary thing for me to decide to take off this past winter. i'd really not been without work since i started taking part-time jobs in middle school. i left aspen knowing i was giving up the job and situation i had built over three years. it was the ultimate in letting go.

getting back into things i realize that i am forever changed by that decision. it slid me farther down the slope i'd been on for years - since my third year at wsu when i switched from pantsuits to cords and sweaters despite the professional warnings of colleagues. when i did that i thought i was a rebel. i was in a way. it was a step away from established ways of being. as i read about postmodern thought and toyed with the romantic idea of subverting existing paradigms i did not realize that i had already started to do so in my own goody-two-shoes way.

so what now? well...i think on the salam article with excitement as it unveils ways of being that i dream about. i want to homestead. i want to work for myself. i want to hunt and grow my own food. i want to live off the grid. i find myself thinking about how i can work less and less in a conventional job and more and more in my own sphere. i want to help people. i want to be involved in a community that is local and global, traditional and technological. i don't know how this is going to pan out, but i also don't need to know. instead i keep dreaming and thinking and subverting and waiting. though i have done some work i am still what the census bureau deems unemployed. oddly enough in the midst of all this opting out i made for damn sure i was counted.

i guess i am still teetering in my own way.