Monday, March 12, 2012

What Do We Want and When Do We Want it? Manifestation 101


This past weekend my backyard was host to a steady stream of neighbors and Occupy-activists. They entered the gate and followed a pathway around the canvas side of a circular wall, finding a door that was loosely draped with a hanging sleeping bag. Taking off their shoes and ducking their heads through the entryway, they stepped into another possibility. (occasionally getting their socks wet along the way...)

This backyard-occupation was the first manifestation of the "WHealthy Human Village." This is a project which evolved out of OccupyMinneapolis over the winter. We are a group of Occupiers interested in Earth-activism, working toward changes we wish to see in society, by living them in the now.


The circular-dwelling is called a "Ger" in Mongolia. (Our culture knows of it as a "Yurt"... which
is actually a derogatory term used by Russians.) The Ger is a traditional structure, simple, elegant, stable, and mobile. One of our members, Bird, spent the greater part of this past winter building one in his garage. It's made of a single lattice-wall, that's curved around into a circle. On top of this, a ring is fitted with rafters, creating a low cone-shape for a roof. Using clothespins and rope, we hung painter's canvas all around the outside walls, fitted tarps across the top, and insulated the inner walls with blankets. With space-heaters, rugs, cushions, and sleeping bags spread out on the ground, we soon had a cozy, womb-like space that could fit up to 20 people.


Our original plan, as the "Whealthy Human Village", was to take over a piece of MN Dept of Transportation-land and set up an earth-friendly version of "Occupy" over the winter. For various reasons, this plan fell through (see the Village blog here for more info on those events). We had no land to set up, and had learned that for the type of community we wanted to build, perhaps it would be wiser to be in a place with the permission and consent of our neighbors. We decided to morph our dream of a semi-permanent Occupy-"village" into a series of shorter-term weekend events, happening in backyards and community gardens around the city. The idea was that we could practice setting up and taking down the structures, learn about what it takes to organize and host events like this, and develop our vision, agreements, goals and intentions along the way.

I spent this past week taping flyers to doors along the block, inviting them to come help plan and attend the weekend events. Katie, the block-activist who heads the "National Night Out" organizing every year, showed up at our planning meeting in the Ger. She volunteered to bring pancakes on Saturday morning. Katie and her family are part of a posse of parents on the block, who regularly have neighborhood events-- often co-organized with their kids. (Moment of place-pride: I gotta say, my block totally rocks!) I live in Powderhorn Park, an area of Minneapolis known for its artsy character and activist-streak. I've also noticed that not many of my neighbors, as groovy and as aware as they are, have been involved with Occupy. And I've been wondering why.

How do we keep "Occupy" from becoming exclusive?
It's been bothering me, as I've been doing my work with OccupyMinneapolis, that there often isn't space for families to join us. I know many Occupiers who are parents often end up leaving their kids at home, making a choice between their parenting duties and participating in shaping a world they want their kids to grow up in. How hard does it have to be, to find meeting-places with separate rooms, where kids are welcome? I've been noticing that so many of the people involved with the core organizing of Occupy are childless, younger, or otherwise less burdened by responsibility. It's unfortunately typical, of people without kids, to not prioritize having kid-friendly spaces. Those who have kids are often already too burdened to do that bit of organizing-- so it gets left out. But shouldn't families be able to get involved? Aren't we missing their voices, as we choose our strategies and think about how to change our world? Shouldn't the young ones be around us, and be part of this revolution as their experience of growing up? What about others who have a hard time getting around? Elderly? People with disabilities? Do their voices count? How can their perspectives be heard?

Occupy's character is formed by the people who show up. What populations are missing from the "core-group" of our movement? How do we extend our structure, to become more inclusive, more inviting, more open and accessible? A 24/7 Occupation is one way to do it. How, though, do we open the doors to allow for those who can't be there as often? At the plaza last fall, I noticed an "inside-group" forming, made of the people who were there all the time. To be "inside", one had to show up X amount of times, until their presence would be recognized and welcomed when they arrived. There were General Assemblies every night. I went to almost every one for 2 months straight, while my health and home-life deteriorated. I didn't eat well, I didn't sleep much, and other goals in my life were on hold, as I poured myself working more than full-time into organizing, facilitating, discussing, emailing, etc. One by one, I noticed our most brilliant organizers fizzling out like 4th of July sparklers. I wondered how long we could go on like this.

Then winter happened. The Plaza was swept. We changed our structure to meet once weekly with committees, and to have decision-making General Assemblies only twice a week. There was a sense of welcome and invitation at the gatherings we had, because we hadn't seen each other in awhile. People looked happier. We weren't arguing all the time. At the "Re-Gathering" weekend, we actually had fun while talking about difficult issues. It felt like we were settling into a pace of meetings and discussions that was more manageable, and allowed for some of the other pressing matters of living to have some priority and space alongside our organizing.

There's now a call to Re-Occupy on April 7, at a couple locations in downtown Minneapolis. I admit I have some apprehensions about being as involved with a Re-Occupy as I was this past fall. My gut sense is that many of the core issues that arose when the fall-Occupy happened still haven't been addressed. I'm wondering how this movement can grow and still be sustainable for the people in it. I'm wondering if there's another way to organize ourselves. Is it possible to craft a structure that doesn't create an "insiders" group, who burn themselves out being there 24/7, and an "outsiders" group, who give money or food, but due to balancing their other responsibilities, don't feel able to be part of the central-action?

We are up against some pretty big forces. The structures of greed and imbalance, power, control, and money, are monolithic and centuries old. Last fall we managed to create a few cracks in the sidewalk of oppression. I wonder if further demolition could be given to the weed-seeds, to organize through some different strategies-- ones that say YES more than they say NO. There is something happening in the culture, something that desperately wishes to be born. Perhaps the most powerful thing we can do right now is to slow down, to notice these little sprouts and give them space to grow.

This "Weekend Village" was an Occupy-experiment: could small-scale organizing, block-by-block, become a way for local people to come out, meet each other, and get involved in creating changes? Does the core of "Occupy" have to be a place away from home, or can we also focus on organizing in the neighborhoods where we live? It seems that many of the people I've spoken to over the past 6 months view Occupy as something they generally support, but as beyond their means to participate in. What if "Occupy" were suddenly right there, outside their front doors? Would they come? What could happen?

On Saturday morning, Katie and her two girls Zoe and Anya, showed up with pitchers of batter and electric skillets. Freshly-grilled pancakes, stacked on a plate and doused with ample syrup, were handed to the neighbors on my block as they filtered in. About 15-20 adults and kids were spaced around the floor, licking syrup off their fingers and sipping their coffee or mint tea. After sharing our "headline news" about what had happened to us over the winter, we had a conversation about what's happening with Occupy, and I introduced the Village-project. "We're here to see if we can brainstorm some solutions, toward economic-independence and developing local resiliency against some of the eventual environmental crises headed our way. What can we do to meet our own needs, by working together?"

In the short and lively discussion that ensued, we set up a collective work-group, with 5 families to spend 6 weekends over the summer helping each other out with home-and-yard improvement projects we couldn't afford the time or money to accomplish on our own... plus one extra weekend to work on a beautification-project for the block at large. I have two neighbors who want to go in on backyard-chickens with me, because while I have space for a coop, I don't have the regular schedule or lifestyle that would allow me to commit for caring for them every day. Another neighbor, who already has chickens, agreed to help us out if we need advice.

I just took my dog for a walk. One of my neighbors, who never talked to me much, shouted "Hello!" and called to me by name. She'd come to the movie-screening in the Ger on Saturday night. While we were setting up and we'd had some conversations about her husband's sudden death 8 years ago, her basset hound's passing away last fall, and some of the troubles she's having with her house. From the sound of it, I think she's been kind of lonely. It seems this weekend-event opened up a way for her to feel connected. I know, this time, I'm not going to forget her name again. By hearing the stories about her life, this house on my block suddenly has a face and a story to it. If this isn't part of changing the world to be a better place, I don't know what is.

Over the course of 3 days at the backyard-Whealthy Human Village, connections like this happened in spontaneous ways. Relationships deepened, as we shared stories together in a relaxed way. An OccupyStPaul family stopped by, and we discussed protests and direct actions, possibilities for strategic organizing, or employing elder-power on the front-lines for actions to defend the earth. One of the Village-organizers shared her skills in spinning yarn. Some neighbors down the street own two standard poodles, had been saving their fur, and brought the fur, and the poodles, over for a visit. Yes, Rachel did manage to spin the fur into yarn! (One of the dogs was much softer than the other, turns out...). We knit and spun while a 4-month-old baby practiced pushing up from laying on her belly. We talked about how having a craft like this calms the mind, and creates something functional and beautiful. We dreamed of having a craft-circle for a new barter-network... Angora rabbits? Mohair goats? A poodle-farm? Silly, perhaps. Or maybe we'd be able to grow a dye-garden, knit, and spin yarn together while spinning stories about our community and world, & what it's going to take to heal it. Bird brought over his power-tools and demonstrated the intricacies of creating the central-ring that holds up the Ger-roof. A woman trained in non-violent communication techniques led a teach-in. An "Intergenerational Council", specifically inviting elder-activists to join us, spent a Sunday afternoon envisioning a future we'd like to live in. We shared these dreams with each other, and created a list for our common vision. One of the Villagers, a member of the Dakota community, distributed some tobacco and led us in a closing-blessing-ceremony.

I suppose the events of this weekend could be summarized as: a bunch of old & new hippie-earth activists got together and camped out in a handmade room for a weekend. But that would be missing the point.

On Visionary Organizing:
Grace Lee Boggs is an Elder-activist, 96 years old and kicking, whom many around the world have cause to listen when she speaks. I was inspired to read the following article, timely posted, by Colorlines:
“I would say to a young activist, ‘Do visionary organizing.’” Boggs told Hyphen. “‘Turn your back on protest organizing and recognize how that leads you more and more to defensive operations, whereas visionary organizing gives you the opportunity to encourage the creative capacity in people and it’s very fulfilling.’”
At a time when people are re-evaluating their relationships with money, work, and people in their communities, Boggs says these dire economic times provide the political space to answer serious questions about our common social values. It’s the lesson that she learned early on in her life, growing up in America the daughter of Chinese immigrants.
“I had the idea, for example, from my father that a crisis is not only a danger but also an opportunity and that there is a positive and negative in everything,” Boggs said. “Being born Chinese meant a big deal to my life, I think.”
My first protest-action was in 1998 on my college-campus, against the conservative administration's budget-cuts that de-funded the radical student-designed-education program I was enrolled in. In 1999, I joined in protesting against the reroute of Hwy 55 and protect the four oak trees sacred to the Mdewakanton Dakota. I was in a supporting role in providing food to the encampment there, attended their rallying-events and was witness to their final showdown with the cops. In the leadup to the Iraq War, I was strapping on stilts in Osaka, Japan, joining in the demonstrations there. Back in Minnesota, I was on the streets with people fighting against Bush's re-election. I coordinated and led a brigade of folks in a puppet-protest with Code Pink during the RNC in St Paul. I've been at countless other protests for different causes where we gathered en masse and chanted whatever the person with the megaphone said, in unison.


Most of these protests ended in tragedy, despite the massive numbers of people uprising (the trees were cut down anyway, the Iraq war happened anyway, Bush got re-elected anyway)... But that's only part of the reason I'm not pouring my heart and soul into to traditional-style protests at Occupy. At many of the actions I've been to, I often end up feeling alone or isolated. It's easy to show up to a protest, yell your piece, and go home again without having gotten to know anyone. How many times have I been walking side by side with others, having no idea who these people are, that I am in "solidarity" with? How many times can "Hey Hey Ho Ho" be recycled, anyways?

When I do go to rallies and events involved with OccupyMinneapolis, I try hard to infuse some element of creativity into it. At a solidarity-rally, circuiting the skyways after the Occupy Wall Street raids, Sam, a fellow Occupier noted: "You're always trying to get us to sing something..." It's true. At a recent "Occupy Our Food Supply" Rally, I took the megaphone and made up a song on the spot, to the tune of "Old MacDonald", changing the words to fit the message against Cargill's disproportionate control: "Mr.Cargill stole our farms, EIEIO... and to our food has done some harm, EIEIO. With a price-cut here and a price cut there, here a cut, there a cut, everywhere a price-cut..." Back during the Madison uprising last spring, I showed up at the U of M solidarity rally with a hand-painted banner, a drum and a song (video here). The atmosphere of the rally shifted, tangibly, before and after singing. A girl came up to me at a protest recently, who remembered me, and that song, even though it had been a whole year. Apparently it made an impression on her.

I greatly appreciate the "Pirate" angle that OccupyHomes has brought into their protests against the banks. It's just fun to dress up. It catches media attention. It's been very fun to witness the transformations of various Occupiers into their "Pirate-personas", and has probably baffled many a banker (or security officer) with how to respond to "Captain Jack Sparrow" or "GlitterBeard" demanding their booty back. Another creative protest I caught wind of via Facebook was the "Matador Wall Street Bull" action... which involved very few people but was epic in its conception, execution, and documentation.

I'm wondering, this spring, if we can redefine what "Direct Action" means, and expand the scope of possibility for more creativity, more fun, and take relationship-building and all-ages-accessibility into account. I love it that someone had the idea of planting sunflowers in spaces all over the city (as is being planned as a Guerrilla-Garden action on May 1) as a radical and culture-changing action!

"What Do We Want? ____! When Do We Want It??? NOW!!!"
In my own life, stating what I want for myself clearly at key points has made all the difference. Perhaps my work as an artist has given me a different view on manifestation than other people. On a pretty regular basis, I imagine seemingly impossible things, and a month or two later it's rolling down the street or unfolding on a stage. As a MayDay Parade artist, I've gotten to see sketches I've drawn turn into giant parade floats. I've met plenty of people who use their intention in a focused way, and achieved tremendous results in their lives. Of course, I also observe that simply stating what you want & when you want it-- doesn't have as much effect as when you are actively working to make it so. ;-) But a clear intention helps.

Some say that the Universe responds to a "Yes" and a "Thank You" in a direct and powerful way. Some even say that "No" doesn't register, so that when you say "No More Killing!", what is actually sent out into the energy-field is the message, "____More Killing!" I don't know what your experience has been with woo-woo stuff like this, or where you stand on some of the radical ideas and research posed by quantum-mechanics or the work of Masaru Emoto, for example. But I can say that the power of intention has had a very real and instant effect on my own life.

The way we ask for what we want makes a difference in other ways, too. I was talking recently to another Occupier and blogger. He mentioned that, to keep up with the amount of stuff he's writing, he often uses anger as his fuel in writing. And mentioned that this anger was starting to bleed over into other areas of his life... "At the end of my work day, I often feel like I've been poisoning myself for five hours. [My partner] actually told me last night that I was starting to seem angry all the time." This morning, I listened to the news on DemocracyNow!... Today is the annual anniverary of the Fukushima Plant meltdown, and we still haven't drawn the connection to the danger posed by other nuclear plants around the world and shut them down. Obama broke my heart the moment he used the words "safe" and "nuclear" together (along with "clean coal")... and I knew he'd been bought out. BP is still in business. The Old Boy's Club must know they are demographically going down, for all the terrible things they are saying against women's rights and attempting to legislate our bodies and our health. I can't even decide which of the horrible things happening in the world I should include in this paragraph as the most horrible. There is no shortage of things to be outraged about.

Back in my organizing for the Code Pink march on the RNC, the coordinators wanted to reclaim use of the term "Pro-Life", and use that in some of our slogan-generation. Of course the "Pro-Choice" advocates in the group ruled against it. But it does raise the question, why "Pro-Life" is a term we allowed to be owned by a very specific group around a very specific issue. (Who, in my view, don't do nearly enough to eradicate poverty, rape, empowering young girls, providing birth control, or providing decent shelter, food, or education for any of the countless children who are undercared for in our world... but that's for another blog)...

These times feel very much to be about a struggle for Life. I don't just mean my life, or even our childrens' lives (if I get to have children)... Lately I've been having some conversations with people whose version of optimism is to say "Well, Earth's life will continue, even if we humans exterminate ourselves..." Some people shrug their shoulders and mention that the Sun, itself, will turn into a supernova and we'll all die then, anyways. It tears at me when I hear people talk like this, as though all the beauty being destroyed every moment doesn't matter. I wonder if they have any children in their lives, any one person in this generation, they'd fight for to make the world a better place to live. It strikes me as a death-wish. Or an excuse.

Some people are awake and responding to the earth-crisis, but from the heady way they talk about it, I wonder how much they are in tune with their own hearts. I listen to other people advocate this and that solution to the massive problems we are facing (such as voting, or legislative, or different light-bulbs, or using less plastic forks). Of course every little bit makes a difference. I will act where I can. I'll vote. I will call my legislator. I'll change my lightbulbs, I'll wash my utensils. But when it comes down to it, I have to conserve my own life-energies and put them where I feel it will create the deepest change. I have to organize in ways that feed and sustain me. Anger and grief are sources of fuel. They burn hot, and also burn me out when I run on those feelings only for too long. But underneath those feelings of grief and rage is a slower, deeper fire: a sense of deep and abiding passion-- for life, for the beauty of the Earth, and caring for the future generations. I will base my actions on what I most love, and work for that through what I most love: the talents and service I was born here, at this time, to give.

As Grace Lee Boggs' father said, "...a crisis is not only a danger but also an opportunity and that there is a positive and negative in everything."

On my better days, I can turn around and view the impending crises we are facing as a society, as a nation, as a planet, as an opportunity. There are many Indigenous prophecies, such as the Hopi, who speak of this time as the Great Purification. The Seven Fires prophecy of the Anishinaabe people mentions turning from a material reality to a spiritual reality. Joanna Macy, whose work has profoundly affected many, describes this moment as the "Great Unraveling" and, simultaneously, the "Great Turning." It's quite possible that it's too little, too late. But I have to try. Even if it's just in my own backyard, organizing with my neighbors to have a few chickens. Even if it's just in learning how to communicate compassionately, and how to love just a little bit more. Maybe this August we'll see some sunflowers blooming in odd spaces, and be reminded that a little bit of resistance has taken place.

As I see those nodding heads and cheerful yellow petals, I will remember to say YES, and Thank You. Yes to life. Thank you to my ancestors, my neighbors, the person who planted the seed, for this chance to be alive and fighting for life.

Yours,
Malia

~~~
Comments about this topic, or on the writing in general, are welcome! I'd like to hear from you.

Next topic: Occupy your Body! Liberation of the white male and the suburban woman. Why do men wear ties? Why do women wear high heels? Fashion as psychological enslavement, Embodiment as Activism.

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