Making Margins: Part 2

A couple of months ago, I made a resolution to make more margins in my life.

How did I do?

I missed the bus three times in six weeks.

But I also learned how to keep a tighter “no” filter, and that hurry is sometimes okay.

Read the rest of the story at “The Well” here.

Amazing Day: Foraging

2011-05-09 17.11.44Totally Amazing Day today!

Guess what two weeds we pulled out of our yard and ate for dinner?

And even more amazing, guess what two children actually enjoyed eating them?

First we talked about the fact that some people around the world don’t have a lot of options of foods to eat, so finding food in the wild can be an important part of people’s diets.  And we talked about how if we go back far enough in history, nearly all the foods we eat were once wild.  There are some foods our family gets wild that don’t seem strange to our kids, like the wild asparagus patch we found down the road, or the venison Adam’s dad and our neighbors hunt and give to us.

So we talked about how eating what we can find around us reminds us not to be wasteful, to eat local instead of using fuel to ship out-of-season foods around the world, and to appreciate what we’ve been given.

Then we took it to a new level.

We cooked garlic mustard and burdock.

Garlic mustard is an invasive species, and we have pulled over 2,000 plants out of yard in the last three weeks.  I know the number because we paid Zeke 2 cents for every one he pulled, and he earned $20 in a day.  At the same time I pulled at least as many.  And then again the next day and the next.

Turns out you can pull off garlic mustard leaves, grind them up in a food processor with garlic, olive oil, spinach, parmesan, and sesame seeds, and it actually makes yummy pesto.  A little strong for kids, but I put in about a half cup of it along with a pan of spaghetti sauce tonight and they loved it.

Burdock is the stuff that makes those burs that inspired Velcro.  If you dig out the young roots it’s supposedly a Japanese delicacy that sells for a few dollars a root in New York City.  These were decent slow cooked and caremelized with a few carrots and tablespoons of butter. I think I had a little trouble identifying the young ones, because about half were too hard to chew.  The rest tasted like carrots.  Not a total win, but not a total loss either.

Oh, and for added fun, our housemate Becky suggested taking lasagna noodles and cutting them with cookie cutters into fun stars and hearts.

Yet another ordinary adventure.

The environment has everything to do with poverty

Happy Earth Day y’all.

This week for a class, I read the book Conservation is Our Government Now, by Paige West, about conservation initiatives in Papua New Guinea.  One quote that stood out to me and others in the class was by a man from the local area: “You people think you should come here and try to save our land because you have already ruined all your own land.”

I’m not saying the U.S. isn’t doing some excellent work trying to preserve natural resources in our own country, or that there isn’t something particularly valuable about saving virgin rain forests around the world, but I think often we think saving the environment is about “keeping some other people off somewhere else from wrecking their stuff.”

Sure, poor people cut down forests to burn wood into charcoal to sell, or drop plastic bags on the ground because there aren’t public trash cans or cleanup.  Sure the factories and mines off somewhere outside our own yards are dumping waste in rivers and stripping mountainsides. But just because they’re “off somewhere else” doesn’t mean we have nothing to do with them.

Like the author of this blog, the more I travel around the world, the more I realize that one of the most impactful long-term things we can do to help people in poverty is to care for the environment.

I saw a billboard yesterday that said, “Save energy.  Save date night.”  The point was, saving energy saves you money so you can go on more dates.  Cool.  But we could also say, “Save energy, save someone’s home.  Save someone’s farm.  Save someone’s food.  Save someone’s children.”

Maybe that’s a little exagerated, but when lots of small choices add up, energy saving goes a long way.  Maybe you don’t think to yourself, “I’ll bike to work because then someone in India is less likely to get flooded out of their home if climate change is controlled,” but in many small good and bad ripples, we affect the world like that.

Finally, one more shout-out to this short and sweet Earth Day read of the season, a blog by Tim Hoiland.

And hopefully Earth Day isn’t just a season, it’s a lifestyle.

I like nice people

When I walked into the hospital room, the occupational therapist was holding my mom’s hand, asking her to squeeze.

The therapist led my mom through a series of hand squeezes, knee bends, arm lifts, and questions to answer.  After two months recovering from a massive brain hemorrhage, my mom had just suffered another setback requiring a surgery and another stay in the intensive care.  After surgery she spent two frightening days barely opening her eyes, then a day answering questions with only one or two word sentences and staring straight ahead.

Now she was here with an occupational therapist starting over.  She would have to relearn many of the same basic daily skills she had just relearned over the last two months.  Just forming a sentence was still hard.

After a while, the occupational therapist sat looking at my mom’s face, as if studying some deep space beneath the surface.

“You’re biting your lip,” she observed out loud.  “Is this hard for you?”

My mom paused for a long time, as she did every time she answered a question now. Then she focused her eyes right on the occupational therapist’s face, a task in itself difficult for her. I could see what the occupational therapist saw now, too—the fear in those eyes.  But there was relief in them right now, too.  Relief that someone understood.  “Yes,” my mom answered.

The occupational therapist held my mom’s hand and talked reassuringly.  Yes, this would be hard.  No one could do this for her.  But we would work with her.

As the woman left the hospital room, my mom suddenly spoke two sentences, one right after the other.  They were the first two sentences I had heard her volunteer since her latest surgery four days before.  “I like her,” she said.  “She’s good.”

I found my voice cracking as I responded.  “Yes, she is good.  I like her, too.”

I had made it my goal a few days earlier to try to see God in other people.   I want to notice what’s good in people and remember what’s good in this world.  I can’t say I do it often, but I like trying.  It worked well while Zeke was trying to tell me an impossibly long and complex story while I made dinner.  I reminded myself to stop and look at him and be grateful for his eagerness to keep me company.  He’s a nice kid.

I like nice people.  Of course nobody’s good all the time, but some people have a knack for certain kinds of goodness, and I like noticing those things.  Things like looking into a face and noticing the biting of the lip, the emotions and the valuable human being beneath the surface.  Things like not just moving limbs around and doing a job to get it done.  I want to practice niceness like that, too.

Why I’m sitting in semi-darkness

On average, one American consumes as much energy as two Japanese, six Mexicans, 13 Chinese, 31 Indians, 128 Bangladeshis, 307 Tanzanians, or 370 Ethiopians.

Yikes.

I read that (in Abundant Simplicity by Jan Johnson) and decided to read by a window this morning instead of turning on a light.

Talking with Donald Miller

Ok, I didn’t talk with Donald Miller, author of Blue Like Jazz (which is newly made into a movie), but my husband did.  Here’s what they talked about. Adam’s interview with Donald Miller.

Easter

Ah, Easter.  I cracked more eggs this week than I think I ever have in my life.  I baked up a sausage and egg dish and some baked french toast for a family gathering, plus the dyed eggs we’ve been eating for days now. We added every single leaf to our dining room table for the first time and managed to pack 16 family members shoulder to shoulder in our house.  And for the six kids in the family, we did a last minute hiding of plastic eggs around the yard, filled with whatever we had on hand (peanuts, marshmallows, and 35 cents a kid–pathetic, but no one complained!)  As lovely as the day was, I know the day is about more than just eggs and family.

Here’s my husband’s thoughts from yesterday on what Easter’s really all about.

Where your tax money goes

Want to see how much money you spend (through taxes) each year on foreign aid, military, social security, and other categories?

Here’s a cool new quick and easy calculator from the One Campaign showing where your tax dollars go.  Check it out.

What war survivors might have to tell us

“In its extreme moments war breaks the bounds of morality and the senses, exposing a world beyond the known and often destroying the most deeply held assumptions about the nature of the world.  War exposes the nature of ultimate things…” (61).

This is from an article called “War and the Nature of Ultimate Things,” by Roberta Culbertson, in a book I’m reading for class called Engaged Observer.  Instead of choosing to study just what people tend to do during wars, or what leads to wars, or stuff you can study by watching people from the outside, she studies what happens inside people when they live amidst war—what happens between people and “a world beyond the known.”  For anyone interested in finding out about that world, it’s worth considering what people in experiences so brutal we can hardly fathom have seen of it.

Culbertson explains that often survivors of war find they can express themselves most freely, without rules of time and grammar and formal language, in poetry.  She gives this example, not for the faint of heart:

This incomprehensible thing I’m telling you about,

I saw with my own eyes.

From the my window of hell

I clenched my teeth

and watched with my pitiless eyes…

The poem goes on to describe a brutal scene that the poet witnessed of Armenian women raped and set afire by taunting soldiers.  The poem ends:

Like a storm I slammed the shutters

of my windows,

and went over to the dead girl

and asked: ‘How can I dig out my eyes,

how can I dig, tell me?

War forces us to confront what we would rather not know.  War reveals forces of evil in this world and the terrible human capacity for evil.  Many of us would rather, like the poet, dig out our eyes than have to see what torments happen in this world.  We hate it, in part, because we have to then ask, where is God in all this?

War points us to a God who must be bigger than just a cozy friend who sits beside us on the bus or hovers around us in a music-filled church. This is a God who doesn’t shut the window or dig out his eyes.  He watches. He cares.  He offers justice when nobody else can.

“What if,” Culbertson writes, “the truth lies… at the margins, and the survivor speaks not of what he saw on the ground but what he glimpsed beyond it?”  People who have suffered often have glimpsed beyond this world.  That’s why I believe in hearing their stories, and really listening, knowing they might have something to tell me, too.  Not all survivor stories point to stark, raging evil.  Some point to a love that comes like a miracle within that evil.  Here’s a survivor story she retells:

“I don’t’ believe it! But I was there, with my own eyes I saw the dark cloud cover our boat and keep us hidden from all the ships everywhere, all the way out to the open sea.  It was a miracle, or is it just that I dreamed it somehow?  Why did we all see it?  Were we all hallucinating?  I don’t believe it.  I believe the cloud was there.  I just don’t know why.”

And finally she asks the question, if we recognize that people who have gone through terrible trauma have experienced an epiphany-like reshaping of their views of metaphysics, what does that mean for how we might care for survivors of war, and seek to end war?

She ends with a beautiful quote from Mozambican woman who works with survivors of war, trying to “take the war out of people.”  She says:

“We walk with them, talk with them, reach into the earth with them, coax a seed into food with them… You walk someone through these daily acts, with the help of the healers, they learn what words can never convey.”

I guess I can’t explain exactly why this chapter so touched me today, but it did.  And sorry I’m not going to try to tell you just how you might apply it, but perhaps I’m not the only one who appreciated gnawing on this food for thought today.

My three-cents worth on Stop Kony 2012

Over the weekend a couple friends razzed me because I never really nailed down what I think of the Kony 2012 controversy.

So after posting my 2-cents worth on the issue, which was mostly just raising questions and seeing both sides of the issues, here’s my 3-cents worth of what I think.

I’ll start off though by saying that I am not an expert on the LRA.  I have visited Uganda for a total of about a week and a half.  I have friends who have interviewed former soldiers in the LRA–I have not.  South Africa where I lived is very far from Uganda and very different.  However, I’ll do my best to offer thoughts out of what I know of development in general, and about some other issues related to this controversy.

1. Invisible Children should have done better. The film has been accused of spreading misinformation about the current situation of the LRA in Africa, underemphasizing more holistic approaches to the overall causes of the situation, and contributing to a demeaning picture of North Americans who can help/save/fix Africa. They did all that.

2.  They’re not the first. Those who line up to be the first to throw stones at Invisible Children will have a hard time proving that they have no guilt.  Mis-telling African stories and promoting “We’ll save you” mentality is what Westerners have done to Africa for centuries.  Well meaning Westerners wanting to help have included doctors, missionaries, agriculture specialists, diplomats, volunteers, tourists, development theorists, journalists, and yes, (some of them worse than anybody), anthropologists. And yes, I’m sure I have done my share.  And I hate that.  It takes a lot of careful listening, humility, and sometimes intentionally stepping back when your gut says to charge ahead to avoid being ugly Americans who think we have all the answers.  Did Invisible Children need to apologize?  Sure.  We all should.

3.  Regarding whether Invisible Children misuses money by making films: Is making a film misusing a charity’s money?  I say absolutely not. What more cost effective way could the possible have reached 73 million viewers and counting?  This video is absolutely incredible in the speed of its reach.  It will make history for that alone.  Using communications through video (and every other media available) is an increasingly important role in development and advocacy work that I believe will improve the world.

On a personal note, when World Vision ACT:S recently asked me to take part in this video series they did, I asked them directly whether it was worth the cost of production and flying me and others to the film site.  They said it was worth it.  I trust that answer.  Videos reach people at a heart level, and they reach a different set of people than other media, and at least some of those people doing something about the issue can add up to a lot of strength, and ideally they’ll be better informed than they were before they watched.

4.  Does Invisible Children misuse money in other ways? This one I’m not going to take the time this morning to fully investigate, but I can tell you where to start.  They’ve been criticized based solely on their score at a website called Charity Navigator, which was 2 out of 4 stars for a transparency rating and 3 out of 4 overall. I recently wrote this article for Reject Apathy about evaluation sites including Charity Navigator and the Better Business Bureau, in which I’m clear that these star-rating services can’t possibly give a whole picture of how effective an organization is with its money (Charity Navigator even says that).  To get a more accurate picture, you can read through Invisible Children’s annual reports, or find out exactly why they scored low (seems like it was about having too few independent board members, which is a different issue than mismanaging funds).  As for using only 32% of their funds for program expenses, whether that’s wise or not depends a lot on their mission, and they’re clear here about what their goals are.  If part of their aim is to get North Americans informed and involved in this issue, spending a lot on travel is going to have to be a part of that.  North American organizations working in Africa necessarily run into this problem: Americans cost a lot to pay and fly around.  It’s not good, but it’s common.

5.  All this doesn’t change the fact that there’s work to be done in Africa. The LRA has done terrible things.  If you watch that video and don’t feel any twinge of energy to do something about something very wrong in this world, check your pulse.  This LRA story is all interrelated with poverty, corruption, and a lot of other factors, and the LRA is far from the only threat to people’s lives, or even the biggest.  Solving those problems is not easy at all.

There is a lot of room for error. Just this week I read about how Bill Clinton attempted to negotiate a peace process for the war in Sierra Leon in the ’90s.  He was criticized for doing poorly.  Bill Clinton, as you may recall, also considers it about the biggest regret of his life that he didn’t do something about the Rwandan genocide.  If North Americans try to get involved in human rights abuses outside their borders, they will inevitably make some mistakes.  Does that mean they shouldn’t try?  I don’t think so. Being uninformed about an issue you care about shouldn’t stop you from caring–it should start you getting informed.

If nothing else, this controversy over Joseph Kony is driving that lesson home.

Don’t just take my word for it, read Invisible Children’s response to the criticisms. They’ve handled this P.R. mess very well, I think.

And if you’re still not tired of commentary on Kony 2012, here’s useful blog that connects to lots more writing about it.