Please raise your hand

Don't you hate having a cut on your hands?  Maybe it's the piano player in me, but the worst thing about having a cut somewhere on your hand is that it is gets in the way of using your hands.  Which we humans do, all the time.  I love to work with my hands, whether it's piano or organ playing, writing, cooking, gardening, whatever.  Even when I read books it gives them something to do.

As a piano teacher, I see lots of people (young and old), whose hands are not educated.  They have trouble moving fingers independently of one another, they can't get one hand to go left while the other goes right, and they can't get one finger to hold still while the others all move. 

Our education system does not do a good job educating people's hands. Which is a toublesome because people's motor skills and manual dexterity are crucial to their well-being, both psychologically and financially.

Anybody who has ever seen a master hand-worker (potter, painter, carpenter, mason, floor installer, flower arranger, hairstylist, massage therapist, pastry decorator, musician, mechanic) has likely noticed how fluidly the hands of these people move as they work.  I never realized how much intelligence hands can have until I watched my father fix the old dryer in our basement.

He couldn't see the part he was fixing, so he felt it with this hands, figured out what was wrong, unscrewed part of it, felt around and moved the things that were in the way, and reconnected it.  I watched and then I understood that he can think with his hands.

In school we are taught to hold our hands very still so our brains can get smart.  At risk of sounding like a zombie, the most education in our society has to do with brains, brains, brains! We have largely divided humans into two classes: people who think, and people who work. Brains, and hands. 

So sad, isn't it, because brains and hands are such a great combination - they built the great dome at Saint Paul's Cathedral.

Together, brains and hands devised the most efficient form of human transportation, the bicycle.

 

                                               

                  Brains and hands create beautiful works of art.

But best of all, a person with an educated brain and educated hands can be independent.  They do not need to work too much on other people's terms, because they can be productive and make a living on their own.  They can make a contribution to the community when they choose, in they way they are best able.

So I guess, if I could sum up my educational philosophy in one sentence, it would be "I believe we need an education system that educates people's brains and their hands." To do otherwise is to deny people the opportunity to reach their full potential.

If we were smart, New Brunswick would focus their educational efforts on brains and hands - developing the best skilled, most intelligent practioners in every discipline.  Notice I didn't say the best skilled workers.  This is because I believe in a small province, we should focus on small businesses where people don't just mindlessly work.

We need more people to be productive, to create employment for themselves via their skills.  And the best way to develop the skills and bring out the hidden capacities of every child is to educate their brains and their hands.



A journey in sound and words

When I was young, I liked music but I really didn't know why.  Maybe it was the sounds: the physical density of certain waves together, or maybe it was the attention being musical afforded me, or maybe the mysterious feeling of resonance inside my body.  Looking back, I still can't quite put my finger on it.  But it stuck.

As a teenager, I become more studious and started to really listen.  Focus hard, and listen.

My musical adolescence was exciting.  I learned to play Chopin, Bach, Haydn - large and challenging pieces of sophisticated music. It sounded impressive, and it was fun. I've always loved working with my hands. Plus, my skills improved to the point where I could earn a little cash and some work experience.

But even then, in many ways I was musically ignorant. I could not replicate sounds I heard, I could 'read' music, but actually I had very little rhythmic understanding of what was going on in the musical notation. And I could not for the life of me, despite hours of trying,  make the sounds I heard in my head come out of my instrument.

Although I had some technical skill, I did not have the fluency necessary for complete self-expression in musical terms. It was frustrating, but I could create music by improvising.  Occasionally a really good idea would come out the ends of my fingers and I would hang on to it.

That said, the phrase "self-expression" sometimes makes me cringe. The idea that "self-expression"  is the be-all and end-all has led to lots of bad artwork. It conjures visions of self-important psycho-babble, people "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing," to quote the Bard.

But when I started listening to jazz, I realized that people really can speak through their instruments. I was too immature to be able to follow the entire conversation (let alone contribute), but I could hear musicians commenting, lamenting, or throwing in the occasional one-liner.

The more I listen, the more I realize that music is a conversation.  In several ways - between the listeners and musicians, each of whom brings their own experiences and level of musical proficiency to the table, but also between musicians themselves, who "speak the language," and who have the ability to narrate and interpret sounds. 

Music can be very rhetorical, and a heartfelt player will relate sounds in a way that can change our perspective - seems ridiculous, I know.  But narrative is such a powerful force in the human psyche: it frames details and presents events, illuminates images and casts shadows.

And somehow, a precise combination of sounds can intervene in the atmosphere and speak in an expressive way analogous to the human voice. 

We all tell stories about ourselves, and those stories shape who we are - who we really are, and who we pretend to be.  And musical storytelling can be the same - facts and fiction, details omitted, truths disguised as real life.

When we listen to someone tell a story, we hear the words, and those words impact us.  They meet us where we are and they take us somewhere else.  And they make us reflect on who is speaking,and how we relate to them. 

Narratives and conversations, whether spoken with words or musical instruments, have to potential to transform us into somebody new. When the story is over and we come back from the transient world they have created, we are not always who we used to be, or even who we expect to be. 

Maybe that's why I like music.

Woodstock Heritage Moment

Remember those lovely "Heritage Minute" commercials the government used to air?  As in, "Doctor, I smell burnt toast!" or "Johnson, sir, Molly Johnson!"  Well, I've started reading a great book about Dalton Camp, formerly a resident of Woodstock, and the "best prime minister Canada never had."  It's a fascinating book that re-tells Camp's life in the context of 20th century politics. 

Here's what he says about Woodstock during the onset of World War II:

War was coming.  You could sense the coming from beyond the earth's curve, not a distant thunder, but an eerily silent wind, a light wind that turned the leaves over, their soft white undersides showing in the sun.   People always said it was a sign of coming rain...

Walking down Lower Broadway, on a still, airless afternoon, I recall hearing Adolf Hitler's voice on radio, coming out from behind a screen door.  I heard the sounds of a crowd, and an American voice talking over it, explaining what Hitler was saying and why the crowd was cheering.  People were beginning to talk about the possibility of war now, the way people might talk about being struck by lightening - something possible, yet unlikely.

It was a summer of heightened sensation, as though the ice cream were colder, the choke cherry bushes heavier with their berries, the sun higher, the shade darker, the nights longer.  The music seemed more haunting, though we laughed longer, as if the laughter were a treasure that might soon be spent.  It was a season of small pleasures; life was anecdotal, time measured by the length of an embrace, a kiss, an early morning round of golf, by swimming naked under the railway bridge at Bull Creek, the water lit by a burning fire under a steaming kettle of fresh corn harvested from an unknown farmer's field. Seamless, sensuous, seemingly endless, one summer day folded into the next while Italy invaded Albania and the Germans marched into Danzig and Vienna.

Hard to imagine, isn't it, and yet I can imagine just what it would feel like to walk down Broadway and hear that radio.  There's a reason some things make the history books: not just because they change the world in the political sense, but because they alter the million mundane little actions that make up "life" for so many people.  We are "at war" in Afghanistan but I don't think we really feel it at home like this.

Three word recipe for a balanced budget

1. Cancel
2. Point
3. Lepreau

Since the Conservatives came to power in September, we've been told repeatedly to get ready for cuts to government spending.  If we don't get tough on the deficit, it could reach a billion dollars soon, in a province of 750 000 people.  Fair enough.

But no MLA or official accountant wants to point out that the Point Lepreau "refurbishment" is already 1.4 billion dollars over budget, and more than a year behind.  The lights have remained on across NB while Lepreau has been the site of, in my opinion, one giant research and development project. 

So I guess the common sense part of me wants to know: why do we need it, and why isn't cancelling Lepreau a viable option to eliminate our deficit?  Let's see, fund health and education or nuclear power generation destined for US export?  Hmmm, which one is really benefitting New Brunswickers?  I'm not normally this sarcastic but seeing as how it's partly my money being flushed into the Bay of Fundy, I just can't see how that's good public policy.

I realize things are rarely this simple and I would love to see a well reasoned and financially responsible argument for why we ought to keep Lepreau and slash everything from legal aid to nursing homes. 

A Civil Conversation

A good conversation goes a long way.  Here's an excerpt from David Brooks' excellent column in the New York Times.  You really should read it all. He says:

But every sensible person in public life also feels redeemed by others. You may write a mediocre column or make a mediocre speech or propose a mediocre piece of legislation, but others argue with you, correct you and introduce elements you never thought of. Each of these efforts may also be flawed, but together, if the system is working well, they move things gradually forward.

Each individual step may be imbalanced, but in succession they make the social organism better.

As a result, every sensible person feels a sense of gratitude for this process. We all get to live lives better than we deserve because our individual shortcomings are transmuted into communal improvement. We find meaning — and can only find meaning — in the role we play in that larger social enterprise.


So this is where civility comes from — from a sense of personal modesty and from the ensuing gratitude for the political process. Civility is the natural state for people who know how limited their own individual powers are and know, too, that they need the conversation. They are useless without the conversation.
 
This sums up much of how I feel about society, politics and people.  I do want to live in a community where my shortcomings are mitigated by the strengths of people around me, and vice-versa.

When We Mourn

I'm not one for vacuous public statements - you know, those ones politicians tend to make when they can't risk taking sides. I find all of that verbal bet-hedging very tiresome.  No comment is fine, maybe there's nothing more to be said, it happens.  But to be "all sound and fury, signifying nothing" is regrettable.

Tonight I was watching the memorial service for the Arizona shooting victims.  I've been to a lot of funerals: when I was younger, family funerals; in my teens and early twenties, funerals for friends (sad but true); now, mainly churchfolk and often strangers.  As bizarre as it sounds, I think memorials (or funerals, take your pick) are very moving and sincere, in a way almost no other modern ceremonies are.

Maybe this is because, as my friend remarked to me, "death is a form of justice."  I think she is right - seeing as how the rich and the poor, the famous and the obscure, death comes to us all.  I'm not sure.

But one thing that strikes me about funerals and memorials is the necessity of including music or art.  Even people who have never been involved in the arts, who probably couldn't name you more than three pieces of music, will have music at their funeral or the funeral of their loved ones.  Many people love to ridicule or ignore poetry in their day-to-day lives, but will have poems read or printed after a loss.

We live in a society which values the empirical and the measurable - money, status, studies, statistics, 'demonstrated track records.'  And yet, when a human life ceases, we find comfort in the unquantifiable (and often intangible) aspects of life: sound, figurative language, poetry, movement, the embraces of fellow human beings.  Maybe this is because grief calls us to be 'outside ourselves' for a time; I'm not sure why.

But as I watched the singers give their "Simple Gifts" during the live broadcast tonight, the swaying of their bodies and the sweetness in their voices reminded me that human beings will (almost always) use beauty as a means of self-defense when faced with tragedy or mortality.  I know that "time and chance" befalls us all, but I am grateful that at least a little beauty, and hence a little hope for the human race, can be called forward in times of great doubt and senseless destruction.

Warm Keys to Success

Here's a re-post of a link from a certain local reporter's blog.  Love what Seinfeld has to say about productivity, I'm thinking a lot about day-by-day, little-engine-that-could type discipline.   As a musician, I know it works.  It's just a matter of doing it.

Show Me The Money - Budget 2.0

My mind on my money and my money on my mind.
                                                              - Snoop Dogg

Here's the disclaimer:  I can't stand Snoop Dogg, and I have never wilfully listened to his music.  That said, the man has a point: it's a new year and we're thinking a lot about money.  So is New Brunswick's finance minister, and the Alward government. Rightfully so.

New Brunswick has huge financial problems, and our aging population (not to mention the looming diabetes epidemic) will make it basically impossible for the status quo to continue.  We have problems, and the government is telling us all that we need to help solve it.  Which is true, we need to face the facts.

Since the money received by the government comes from New Brunswickers, I think the government should lay out every single place that money went in 2009 - every car rental, every can of office coffee, every piece of monogrammed stationary, all the legal aid, all the textbooks, all the gauze, MLA pensions, business development loans and salaries and everything. 

Data-obsessed people should have access to this open-source budget so we can see where our money is actually going.  Then we could have a really informed debate about how our money is being put to use and what our priorities really are as New Brunswickers.

Some wards in the city of Toronto have participatory budgets, as does the city of Porto Alegre, Brazil.  Residents in these places work one year in advance to determine priority spending and allocate amounts for various city departments.  Remember, Toronto has more people than all of New Brunswick put together.

We always say our priorities are"health and education"  but when we say health, what do we actually mean?  When we say education do we mean consultants and standardized testing, or putting meaningful skills training back in high schools?  It's not hard to see what someone's (or a government's) priorities are, if you "follow the money."  And I don't mean departmental, ball-park numbers, you could bury anything in there.  I mean dollars and cents for everything.

Most New Brunswickers are not rich people.  They make choices every day about whether to spend, save, go without, or find a better solution.  If the government needs to reduce programs and services, it should be determined by the people who pay the taxes and will suffer the consequences. 

Eating in the New Year

One of my goals for 2011 is to eat more local food, as much as I can manage.  Our household has several adults coming and going, and we cook lots from scratch.  Food is important to us, we are lucky to be self-employed and we make time to eat well most days.  Good food is the fuel for good work and a good life. 

Over the summer I started buying garden produce from George Peabody.  He delivered it right to my door every Friday and I could choose what we wanted to order.  Delicious and no more griping about ending up with the "slow" cashier uptown.  In August I purchased 20 beautiful 'braids' of organic garlic at the Dooryard Market. We've always bought our grains and cereals direct from Speerville, as well as local eggs from the Lawson family farm and local maple syrup from peddlars on the roadside.

Then in the fall, our tomato bounty harvest came due, and that kept us going for at least five weeks.  Our  friends planted oodles of tomatoes in May and then promptly moved to PEI in August, leaving us with the delicious spoils of their labour.  I also started ordering food from Buckwheat Flats food delivery service in Knowlesville - mostly meat for the carnivores in the house but also some tasty Indian treats, pitas and delicious organic cider.  They also deliver, which seems like such a luxury in the era of self-scan check outs.
Stu & Nancy in Speerville (call 277-6301) have a wonderful organic food /farm delivery service too.

I happened across these blogs about local food, complete with recipes.  Here's a directory to help you find more good stuff grown in our neighbourhood.  Real food tastes better, make me feel great, and helps me support the local economy.  Here's a great little article about how three recipes can get you off the fast-food spiral and into healthy and cheap eating. So, just to recap, here are your standard excuses for not eating locally:

1.  No time
(for home deliveries?!)

2.  Only available in summer
(not anymore!)

3.  Too expensive
(How often do you pay $$$ to eat out? You are voting with your food dollars)

4.  Need meat not just veggies
(lots of local cows, chickens and pigs . . .)

5.  Want prepared items, not just raw food 
(they have this too!)

I am telling you, eating locally will improve your life.  And it will change the world.  So what are you waiting for?

7, 32, 85, 103, 299, 300, 2011

I am a number person.  I count things, I see quantities as multiples (ie. this box is twice a big as that box).  It just so happens that the year is finishing, and this is my 300th post to this blog.  In 2007 I posted a paltry seven times.  In 2008, it was 32 and in 2009, 85.  Since then I have barely stopped jabbering but now, A Moment of Reflection:

This blog is one of my quiet joys, a place where I can record some thoughts and share them with people thoughtful enough to stop by my corner of the virtual neighbourhood.  What a wonderful way to overcome the inherent isolation of living here in NB.  And this little blog is so faithful and undemanding.  It will sit neglected for weeks and still be waiting when a loud thought pops into my brain and is later forced out my fingers and into your neurons.  Pretty wild when you really think about it, isn't it?

Believe it or not, I have rules about writing this blog.  Such as:

1.  Don't write in ridiculous over-thought prose.
One might consider asking oneself: did the word choice matter or was all choice merely an illusion?  She digressed.
Ever since I read Orwell's "Politics and the English Language," the importance of plain speaking, and the uncessary pretence of too many Latin-based words have hit me like a lightning bolt.  Just say it simply, and mean it.  I try not to write if I don't have anything worth saying.
 
2. Personal blogs are not for me.
Discussing ideas and experiences in public with acquaintences rather than intimates is a very valuable and underrated process.  I wish we lived in a world with more engaging conversations.  I do enjoy some personal blogs but the thought of putting my life out there is actually pretty nauseating.

3.  Keep it positive where possible and avoid overgeneralizing everything.
There are enough stereotypes, shallow news stories and shoddy thinking without me adding to the heap! People will never change their lives and our society if they aren't given a better alternative.  How's that for a stereotyped, generalized statement? 

4. Less is more

5.  Proofread. And then proofread again.  Try to mean exactly what you say, and nothing more.

I hope 2011 will bring you growth, joy, laughter, rest, work, love, and peace.  Thanks for reading.

MIT, for free

Some of us are learning junkies.  I would count myself firmly in that category - I get so bored and restless if my neurons are not getting their proper workout.  So I've heard about the MIT open-source courses, but until today I had never actually checked them out.

Basically, you can choose from a HUGE list of courses, their syllabi, reading materials, and in some cases, assignments, exams and solutions.  And in many courses you can download all the things you need onsite.  For free.  That's right, no student loan, so 8:30am deadline, no excuses.  It's all there for the taking, topics from Music and Theatre Arts to Theoretical Physics, Urban Studies and Special Projects.

Wouldn't it be incredible for Carleton County and New Brunswick to have groups of people working together on these courses? To have our leaders and teachers and citizens educated MIT-style while enriching life here with their knowledge and capacities?

Oftentimes, I think there is no 'payoff' for getting formally educated around here.  You certainly won't find an experimental laboratory to pay your salary, nor is a master's degree particularly lucrative for most self-employed people.  As someone counting the months until my student loan is history, I can say that debt is a tremendous deterrant to getting an education. However, being self-educated is of tremendous value in allowing a person to understand the world in which they live, and being able to shape it in a responsible and inspiring way for future generations.

I look back on the history of Woodstock and Carleton County and I see the things that our citizens accomplished: F.P. Sharp and his (successful) experiments in adapting apples to the short Eastern growing season, Tappan Adney and the preservation of the birchbark canoe, the people who built the beautiful and enduring Victorian houses.

What kind of culture will we pass on? A culture of learning, now at our finger tips for free; an insistence that feeding one's curiosity is a worthwhile pursuit?  A legacy of quality work and craftsmanship, of practical innovations ?  I hope so, because I think we deserve to live in a place which asks for, and values, the contributions of people who live here. 

It's tempting to play the victim and pretend we're second class citizens, when actually, the problems are ours and so are the solutions. So get busy learning.  We need you to educate yourself, we need to enrich each other,  whether with MIT courses or by any means available.

P.S. Watch this link to the wonderful Sir Ken Robinson's commentary on the pitfalls of our industrial education system.  Thanks Gill!

It's a Man's World

If you're interested in places outside of North America, you've probably read some of Stephanie Nolen's excellent journalism.  Listen to this excellent podcast - Nolen is a journalist who discovers the truth in large part by talking to women.

Your Hurtin' Heart

Many of you know my sister Tracy, the musical chameleon.  She sings jazz, she plays the keys, she studied opera, she teaches many wonderful students 'round these parts.  But before all of that, she was - wait for it -a country singer! 

That's right folks, twang and slang and all those other things your English teacher tried to talk you out of.

As kids, we grew up with Dad singing "Hey, Good Lookin'," and we knew all the words to "Coat of Many Colours" before we left elementary school.  Now Tracy is preparing to release her first ever CD recording - a project she has been dreaming of for years now.  We like to joke that Tracy's having her first "baby" - and it will probably involve a similar amount of love, sweat and tears!

Yours truly has been accorded the golden opportunity to sing back-up and I am pretty tickled to step away from the keys and do my backwoods holler. 

Look for the Hurtin' Hearts coming to a town near you soon. Check out the website to pre-order the CD and support the Heartin' Heart cause.  The CD will be a mix of country/alt-country, jazz and blues, and will feature many fine Maritime musicians and artists.

Pre-order yours, make a donation and help Tracy take her country blues coast to coast!

And then there were men

I remember a lot of things from the evening news I watched with dad when I was a kid.  I was born in '82 and some of the things I saw as a youngster must have had quite an impact, because I still remember seeing them on the screen.  The piles of bodies during the Rwandan genocide, countless elections, the Rio earth summit, the Quebec referendum, the Westray coal mine disaster - the nightly news was (and is) my father's lullaby.

Today is the 21st anniversary of the Montreal Massacre, which means I would've been seven when it happened. It feels strange to me that I can't remember seeing it on news, but for some reason there's a hole in my brain where those horrendous images could've been. 

Last night I was thinking about all of this - the horrible reality of what those women faced on that day,  and the subsequent battles over gun control (yes, the long gun registry goes way back to Ecole Polytechnique).  It seemed, and still seems, so unbelievable to me that a man could be so enraged by female engineers that he would gun them down in cold blood.  How could a seven year old make sense of that?

Growing up I was lucky enough to have parents who were both capable of cooking, cleaning, caring for people, piling wood and doing all the other things life required.  For a time, my mother was very sick with cancer, and when she was, dad did it all, with the help of Grandmother and Grammie.   Grandmother being such a feminist, and Mom being a natural tomboy, the gender roles were pretty fuzzy at home, and without any brothers we learned to do whatever was necessary to keep the fire going, feed ourselves, do our homework, and present ourselves in public.

In my late teens I became an ardent feminist because I didn't think most women were equal to men, and I didn't think most men treated most women as equals.  The exception to all of this, of course, remained my parents, and even when I became interested in the idea that "the personal is political" in university, I did not feel it was fair to tar all men with the label of "oppressors."  My father did not 'oppress' my mother, he cared for her when she was sick.

I've always found the 'feminist' discussion prickly - you know, that moment at a party when someone drops the 'f-bomb.'  Inevitably, some eyes roll, others suddenly have to visit the bathroom, one or two people start raving, and the other people watch silently, waiting for it to be over.  I've seen it many many times, and it doesn't seem to change whether the people are 15 or 50 years old.  The arguments are so counter-productive, all it does it make people take sides. Nobody is thinking or really listening.

Now that I'm a little older, I have married into a family that is the mirror image of mine - all sons and no daughters, but where the boys were taught to take care of themselves so they wouldn't be dependent on a woman for their well being.  I see them out shoveling my driveway, lifting heavy things repeatedly without resentment, being sensitive about things and having hurt feelings just like people in my own family. 

And I also see them struggling with the idea of what it means to be a man, to win people's respect with work and money, but to do it in a way that engages women as equal partners and makes a positive contribution.  It is not any easier on them than it is for women. 

And I wonder when people will realize that patriarchy is a problem for men too - that it marginalizes their feelings the way it marginalizes women's work, that it invites miltarism and violence as the solution to all the world's problems, that only a few 'alpha dogs' will get the payoff while a room full of good men secretly wonder what's 'wrong' with them.

I think we could do a much better job as men and women to envision what kinds of families, workplaces and communities we really want to have.  Worldwide, many women are still treated like cattle and it is the moral responsibility of women and men in privileged countries to stand up for them, and help with projects they have already started to improve their own lives.

Here at home, where women are legally equal, the lines are a bit blurrier.  We certainly have a problem with missing Aboriginal and poor women - they are still disposable in our society.  If the Montreal massacre had been the Moosonee Massacre and the victims 14 aboriginal women in Northern Ontario, would we still be remembering 21 years later?  I'm not convinced.

I think we have a tremendously anti-woman government at the moment.  Which I find so wierd, if for the sole reason that Stephen Harper's wife Laureen seems so worldly, educated and intelligent.  While Harper was doing economic analysis, she was riding a motorcycle across Africa.  And yet, they have removed 'equality' from the mandate of the Council for the Status of Women, and eliminated Supreme Court challenges under equality provisions.  Not pro-woman policies, not in the least.

And Canada has a dismal, dismal, dismal, record on women participating in the political process.  Rwanda is recovering from a genocide and now has more than 50% female parliamentarians.  Here in Canada and in NB it's consistently less than 20%.  When is the last time you saw a women premier or leader of the opposition anywhere? 

So, twenty one years later, the Montreal Massacre still raises a lot of questions, and holds a mirror up to our society.  I think individual Canadians do have a lot of respect for each other as women and men.  My own experiences of sexism have been limited, thankfully, although I can tell you lots of second-hand stories.  But I don't think individual respect can trump a system where some women are disposable, some men are marginal, and decisions about power and resources are still made in the 'interest' of men who don't exhibit a lot of caring for the world. 

Although dates like this one do make good men feel bad, those good men feel bad because they would never do to their spouses, sisters and mothers what the killer did all those years ago. 

But it can happen in Canada, and it did. To remember the women is to dignify the memory of those who have passed. It reminds each one of us that peace starts at home and at work and will only come from our own committment and dedication.  It will never be legislated, it will never be financed and that is precisely what makes it valuable.



 

Every Seven Years

The number seven is surrounded by myths - I've heard that every seven years, we replace all the cells in our bodies, and become entirely new people.  In the Bible, the seventh year was the "shabbat" or "ceasing" for the Jewish people, as God decreed:

The Lord spoke to Moses on Mount Sinai, saying: ²Speak to the people of Israel and say to them: When you enter the land that I am giving you, the land shall observe a sabbath for the Lord. ³For six years you shall sow your field, and for six years you shall prune your vineyard, and gather in their yield; ⁴but in the seventh year there shall be a sabbath of complete rest for the land, a sabbath for the Lord: you shall not sow your field or prune your vineyard.

In May, it will be seven years since I graduated from university.  Since then, I bought a house, worked 5 jobs simultaneously, founded a concert series, a non-profit, an arts festival and assisted with more volunteer projects than I can count (or remember!!).  I have loved them all, but I feel tired in my bones.

Lately I have been thinking a lot about the wisdom of Earth's self-sustaining systems.  When something gets out of whack, the Earth's feedback loops put it back into balance. Without human intervention, living things have everything they need, and are connected in a web that doesn't 'waste' anything.  This is beautiful, and what could be a more fitting model for our own lives?

Hence, in May I will be on Sabbatical from volunteer projects - one year to rest, let myself recharge, not expect anything other than what grows without cultivation.  I am not quitting, I'm invested in community for the long haul.  However, I would like to arrive at the finish line knowing that I took the time I needed to do my best work.

Welcome to Bertie County

Watch this video.  It has some parallels with Carleton County, and specifically with our downtown and how design can work towards the revitalization process.

Town Council needs to initiate a process that designs the downtown with the people of Woodstock, not just tells them what they're "getting."

Your morning thought

Have you seen the face of a philosopher lately?  I really enjoyed these photos and the comments of the thinkers.  Sometimes I feel like we are afraid of ideas.

Why I'm running

I am now officially a candidate for Woodstock Town Council.  There is one seat available in the byelection on November 15th - and four candidates.  I am nervous about my first election but I'm also pleased that there are four people running.  It means people care about our town, and that voters will have some susbtantial choices to make. 

Here is the long version of why I'm running.  If you're the speed-read type just skip to the end. 

Woodstock is a beautiful heritage town.  And if you said that in a crowded room, most heads would nod in agreement.  But I don't think we always believe that Woodstock has the potential to be a great town - a lively town with people greeting each other on the streets, where local businesses are thriving, where local food is served every day, a place where each business, house and street corner show the care and pride people have in their hometown.  I love living here, but I think we can do better.  And I don't mean that as an insult to the people who volunteer countless hours of time to serve their fellow residents.  But if we don't push ahead, we risk falling behind.

Over the course of the next month, I'll be blogging about some ways that Woodstock can go beyond the status quo and build a reputation based on its past, present, and vision for the future.  Please leave comments, suggestions, points for debate.  If we want to improve our hometown, it's up to us. 

My main concerns:

1.  The current state of our downtown. 

We need all the partners: Chamber of Commerce, Farm Market, Woodstock Tourism, RiVA, and all interested community members.  Good solutions come from people participating in a process that respects their intelligence and goodwill. The community is the expert, I've seen processes like this in action already. We have a lovely waterfront.  Let's stop driving through it and get people out to enjoy it!

2. Our zoning rules. 

This is a super-nerd issue but actually affects almost everyone in our town.  We need to be moving towards mixed-use neighbourhoods that are walkable, where people can operate small businesses in their homes.  In a small town, small businesses are absolutely vital.

3. Vision for the future. 

Woodstock is a very well-managed town.  Financially, we're doing well even in the midst of a recession.  That is great news, but we can't afford to spend all of our energy balancing books and neglecting discussion about what kind of town we want Woodstock to be in 5, 10 or 15 years.  We need to figure out innovative ways to promote Woodstock to our local region/provincially and to bring new people and businesses here, based on the strengths we already have.

Solutions will come from dedicated people working together.  It won't be easy and it will take a lot of time.  But Town Council has a crucial role to play in leading these processes, and in encouraging people to work together.  I care very much about organizing a team of people who want to see Woodstock thrive.  It will happen if we all play a part.

Doubt, and Faith

There is a lot on my mind lately.  It all seems to swim around in there, enough to keep me distracted but nothing pronounced enough to really put my finger on.  Very hard to characterize.  Maybe my brain is imitating the seasons, which are hinting at winter but not quite there yet.

One thing I am preoccupied with at the moment is the suffering and lack of resources poor people face.  In Carleton County we have lots of individuals and families who don't have warm clothes or food for winter, and who do not have jobs with dignity.  I accept that this is 'the way it is' but I certainly don't like it.  There IS enough in this world to go around, and the fact that things are so unequally distributed hurts makes me angry sometimes.

At the same time, I had the tremendous fortune to see Jacob Deng speak at Fusion on Saturday night.  He is one of the "Lost Boys" of Sudan who left during the midst of a civil war.  He never saw his parents again, and now as a refugee living in Halifax, is doggedly working to improve the lives of Sudanese in his home village.

Listening to him talk was eerie:  he is only two years older than I am, and as he spoke, I tried to picture Debec in the middle of a civil war. I imagined leaving there with the knowledge that my family members would likely be killed.  He was seven years old when he left. But he stood in front of the small crowd and talked about how urgent the need is for primary education in his village, how people have the right (and the need) to make something of themselves.

Like people in Carleton County, they need basic resources, training and education in order to be able to build a better life for themselves. Different place, but the same story in many ways.  I work a lot with children and I see the tremendous potential in them, like little seeds.  I work in community organizing, and I see how progress is made slowly, like a garden that increases in productivity each year.  And when I stop and think about the obstacles faced by so many good people the world over, I honestly think it's a miracle we even have a "society" at all.  I guess it's a testament that human beings are social, like our primate cousins.

But at the same time, I would like to see a society with more cooperation, with more caring and less materialism.  And I'd really like to see laws that keep some people from dominating those who are vulnerable, both physically and economically.  Maybe someday.  In the meantime, I will do what I can, build peace in my own life and home and encourage others to do the same. Nobody can do everything, but everybody can do something.

Music: An Endangered Species?

I am concerned.  Every now and then I hear about 'a study' that says that such-and-such a percentage of species in a certain region is disappearing.  The last stat I can remember is 1 in 5 species face extinction in the next generation.  Meaning 20% of everything alive in that region will cease to exist, with largely unknown consequences for the natural world.

And that bothers me, make no mistake.  But I am also concerned about music and whether live music (and acoustic music in particular) should be on our culturally endangered list.  Here are some of the reasons I worry about this:

1.  Digital gadgets are so easy to manipulate and offer instant gratification.  (think Guitar Hero)
2.  Music is 'free' now.   
3. Getting good at an instrument requires discipline and time, both of which seem elusive these days.
4. There are less and less venues for live music, that pay less and less money.
5. Our education system no longer supports quality music education for young people.
6. Community choirs and bands are becoming a relic of the past. Even military bands are struggling. So are many symphony orchestras. 
7. Ordinary people no longer dance in public.

Of course there are exceptions, with the megastars always shape-shifting into something profitable.  But by and large musicians are a disappearing breed. 

I do a lot of conducting and it's getting harder all the time to find musicians with the skills needed to play in a pit band.  Every church used to have a choir, and now, even in a religious town like Woodstock, to the best of my knowledge only 2 choirs sing every week for the congregation.  Now there are lots of guitar heros out there but few people who can tell a trumpet or trombone apart, either by sight or by sound.

It's hard to find the words to explain why these types of situations bother me: maybe because I see the joy music brings to people of all ages and backgrounds, maybe I think about the role music plays in my life and see what a tremendous gift it continues to be, maybe because I believe that music is cultural 'glue' that keeps us connected to each other, and to our past.

And somehow, I don't think that karaoke and Guitar Hero are sufficient substitutes for real people making real soundwaves of their own accord.     I worry about the songs we will lose, the times people will spend sitting at home alone instead of with friends, the elders who won't have any musical consolation in their old age.  We are losing our native species - not just plants and animals, but tunes and the culture that goes with them. 

Many children I teach no longer know the world to "Old MacDonald" or "Three Blind Mice."  This may not seem like a big deal to you, but it's hard to build musicians from people who don't even know what their parents' singing voices sound like.  And it's even harder to see how this decline can be reversed in an age of drive-thrus and ringtones.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not hanging up my musical hat.  But I see it, and I worry.

Saying NO to the Yes Men

So, long time no blog.  Busy with other things, like getting married.  (See the other blog for that.)

The provincial election is coming.  Consensus seems to be that New Brunswickers are trying to pick the candidates that offend them the least.  The two major parties are making tons of unrealistic promises, sniping at each other, hiking their own salaries and pensions, and generally demoralizing the population.  A couple of thoughts on this situation:

First, everyone loves to complain about politicians but few good people actually take the plunge to get involved in politics.  There is something about politics that attracts narcissists, and we seem to have become captivated by personalities (ie. David Alward's lack of public speaking finesse) than by policies. Sometimes I wonder if all the complaining just keeps the good people afraid of trying to change things.

Secondly, party leaders have a lot of power, especially when their MLA's are mostly 'yes men.' Or 'yes women.'  The NB Power sale was a great example of how the Premier made a decision and then told his MLA's that they'd better shut up or toe the line.

I would propose that the best way to vote is to choose the candidate who is the most knowledgeable, an independent thinker, and a person who has integrity.  I don't think it matters one iota which party that person belongs to.  Because at the end of the day, you need somebody in the legislature who understands that power is a double-edged sword.

We need MLA's who will stand up to a poor leader and tell him or her, 'this is a bad decision, I won't support it, kick me out if you have to,' are the people who will put the common good ahead of personal gain.  Debating about policies and ideas forces people to sharpen their arguments and sharpen their thinking.  We are experiencing a painful lack of practical ideas and sharp thinking from the red-and-blue teams.

Nerd Alert: I am an info junkie, and yesterday when the Elections NB flyer arrived, I looked it over a few times.  It was really interesting because every single candidate in the province had to list their occupation.  Some were career politicians, and listed their occupation as "MLA." Personally, I find this a bit scary, but okay.

Did you know Shawn Graham identifies himself as a 'businessman?' And that the People's Alliance of NB has a lot of 'trucker' candidates?  Many NDP candidates are retired, and that many Liberal candidates are businesspeople or consultants?  The Green Party candidates were by far the most unconventional: early childhood educator, recording engineer, media monitor, fisherman, air traffic controller, mother.

So these are the people who want to represent us.  They're also the people who will or won't take orders from 'the boss,' who ever may end up with that title.

Working for the Weekend

Friday came in full-swing, with good crowds under the tent at lunchtime and a fabulous performance by the Monquartet, which is a folk group composed mainly of Johnvillians.  Special folk, those Johnvilians!!  Speaking of which, they're playing at the beautiful Bath Meeting House next Wednesday so take your Sunday drive a few days early and go check them out.  You won't be disappointed - their Led Zepplin renditions are particularly good.  But I digress....

Then notable country gospel group Side Effects breezed in, playing for a great crowd for over an hour.  They were graced with a group of audience members from Woodstock Fun Park, and the kids danced, listened and decorated under the tent with sidewalk chalk while the adults enjoyed the river breeze, toes tapping. 

We broke for a quick supper (super Dean strikes again) and the evening kicked off in fine style with NB Country Music Hall of Fame-r Al Dupuis and bassist par excellence Will Davidson warming up the crowd.  They were followed by New Denmarkian (New Dane?? New Denmarkite??) guitarist Jens Jeppesen, who brings the fire as only he can.  Thanks for the kind words Jens, but you didn't need my help getting gigs.  The music speaks for itself.

Following Jens was Juno award winner Old Man Luedecke, who actually looks quite baby-faced in person.  He stomped, he sang, people listened, a few danced and at the end we demanded an encore.  It's difficult to describe how special it was for me to see a musician I've so admired come to play in my hometown, in part because of time and effort I put in.  Beauty speaks for itself, even in this crazy virtual mechanized world we live in.  And it was a beautiful performance, without a doubt.  In my opinion, the Old Man is one of the finest songwriters working today and has a lyrical aptitude on par with Bob Dylan or Neil Young.  Not to mention the soul of a poet.

After pulling myself together I made it up to Dooly's to hear Lonesome Jim wrap up: he can still giv'r, as we say around here, despite 25+ years in public education.  That's a FEAT, let me tell you.  I lasted three years, and even now I can't giv'r like he can.  Way to go Jim, when people are looking for a show you certainly don't dissapoint~!  And Fusion was home to Beth Tait and her band.  Rumour has it the beers were being ordered two at a time, that's how much fun people had.  Cheers to that :)

Get ready for a long post on Saturday, it exceeded my expectations.  Which is so nice when you spend nearly a year planning!

Then came Thursday

You might want to read these posts in reverse order; if you weren't there, they'll make more sense.

The crowd started to pick up steam a bit on Thursday.  Certainly, part of that owes to the fact that we pitched a tent in some prime parking territory (I can only imagine the parking anxiety this induced! Oh, the humanity!).  If I had a dime for every craned neck that drove by, my student loan would nearly be paid.  But that's kind of the fun part too, doing something so unexpected that people's little worlds suddenly start misbehaving.  A little novelty is irresistable.

Lunchtime showcases started with a handful of people but Keith MacPherson and Kendra Gale started roping them in.  If you didn't catch this duo, you missed out.  Kendra is a multi-instrumentalist and fantastic singer, and Keith plays bass and sings along too.  They sound so great together, and when Kendra gets her foot tambourine going all is right with the world.  Loved that they made it here, and that they were willing to stick around for another go at the Queen Street Market on Saturday.  Not to be missed in the future, FYI.

Richard Wetmore played his food songs later in the afternoon, educating the crowd about corn, corn syrup, agribusiness, farming.  Richard's unique combination of Anglican singing, swearing and jokes really has a way of getting the point across, despite the fatigue we inevitably feel when someone starts telling us how truly messed up the world is.  Hats off to you, Richard, I'm happy to come along.

Evening entertainment was Marc Zsammer and Dianne Roxborough Brown at Connell House (classical music), Tracy Anderson solo debut at Fusion (jazz), Keith and Kendra at Dooly's, and a triple feature at the Mainstage - Lonesome Jim, the Beaters and Singing Bridge Orchestra.  Reports are that all went well - the classical musicians were impressed by the beautiful sound and setting at Connell House, the Fusion gig was wall-to-wall, and they were still dancing at Dooly's when I got there at 1am.  Tracy tucked away her butterflies long enough for her fingers to show us some of what she learned in Toronto this summer. And Lonesome Jim was his usual self- acerbic wit coupled with virtuosic strumming and inimitable harp playing, the Beaters got the party started, and the SBO managed to get all the way through our disco and funk set without anybody throwing things.  Life was good!

I need to pause here to re-iterate what a good job Dean Weeks did.  Our SBO is an eight-person band with everything from 5 vocalists to trumpets, trombones, cowbells and shakers.  Thursday night was the clearest we had ever heard ourselves, and we played with only a short, informal soundcheck.  It takes real talent for a soundman to deal with that and make it look natural.  And SOUND GOOD. So Dean, we salute you.  Thanks again :)

Thursday wrapped up with 152 through the gate at the mainstage.  By then people had caught on that they should walk from one place to another.  Don't ask me where they parked.  So once again people forgot that 10pm is 'bedtime' and walked from venue to venue, seeing what they were missing and marvelling that in a tiny town, people could have a choice of which event they wanted to take in. It was great - even the Mayor was there.  Again.  At every event.  Nice work, your Worship.

For the Faithful Who Have Answered

Well, we did it! I guess you can see how much time I had to blog.  Too bad.  But if I would've had time, here's what I might've said.....

Wednesday: We managed to get the mainstage site set-up without any major hitches.  Passed the building inspection and even had time to get a haircut.  Best not to look like a shaggy lion when so many people are coming to visit....Music and art at Connell House were well-received.  The crowd was smaller this year but also more thoughtful.  People who left early missed John Thompson playing the harp and the piano at the same time.  It was surreal!

The Transatlantic Zodiac Ensemble kicked things waaaay up at Fusion.  It's a miracle the band even fit in there - 9 players, including a regular drumset and percussionist, soprano sax, violin, accordian and more.  Wall-to-wall people ate up every morsel they played.  There are always moments as an organizer when you can't believe how little things can add up to something so exciting and that was definitely one of them

Over at Dooly's a few intrepid souls disregarded their Carleton County bedtime (ie. 10pm!) to stay up late and hear Atlantic Bridge.  I am now playing keys and singing with this group and thanks to the steller hosting and tech support of Peter McLaughlin, we managed to make some toes tap and even a few brave souls danced. 

The loudest show of the week was already underway at the Mainstage, sponsored by MES Music.  I didn't have a chance to get there but I heard people had a great time.  I can't say enough about Dean and Jennie Weeks and their support for this festival.  We would have fallen on our faces without Dean.  He had the gear, he was there all week with only a few breaks and made everyone sound fantastic.  So if you live around here, you'd better buy local, because we're screwed if something ever happens to MES Music!!

I'll write some more about the rest later.  Didn't realize there was this much to tell!  Stay tuned.....

How To Build A Dooryard

Step One: Get a bunch of rugged volunteers
Step Two: Disassemble 44 sections of steel 10 foot fencing
Step Three: Rent a mucho expensive tent ($$$$)
Step Four: Get a Building Permit
Step Five: Figure out how to secure said tent according to Building Code without going broke or crazy (cement blocks, thanks Town of Woodstock)
Step 6: Add caffeine and mix
Step 7: Rent a portable stage
Step 8: Add merch and bar tents
Step 9: Finish with PA Systems from busy local soundman
Step 10: Pray that the people come to enjoy it

See you in the Dooryard, I'll be blogging as much as I can for those who can't be here in person (or prefer the eerie glow of their computer monitor).

Like a Carleton County potluck, only for the arts . . .

The excitement surrounding this year's Dooryard Arts Festival is palpable.  Everyone is waiting to see how it's going to go, because this year it's waaay bigger than any one person or stereotype.  We've got rockers, we've got banjos, we've got violins, we've got paints, prints, kids, vendors, singers, songwriters, poets, body artists, knitters, potters, painters and writers. And more - really.

What excites me most about this festival is the variety - it's not just a rock fest for hipster teenagers.  It's not another gospel concert with the same old tunes, or another fancy fine arts show.  It's everything all mixed together, with everyone contributing in their own unique way.  Even the "steering committee" isn't really steering this bus - Dean Weeks booked the Indie Night, Valley Young Company chose their production, musicians built new bands, and the excitement just keeps growing. 

Don't get me wrong, we're readier than ever.  But if you're looking for a genre typecast for this festival, you'd best keep rolling down the river.  Because the only thing that really unifies this festival is our location - being here in (mostly) Carleton County, and having some form of individual or collective human expression. Expect the unexpected, expect to see, hear, taste, smell and even touch things you don't normally experience. 

This is the wonderful thing about the arts: it takes us beyond our puny and often self-absorbed personal identities (I put myself in this category too, don't worry) and takes us somewhere else.  Like trying that new dish at a potluck.  You don't have to eat a plateful, but just try it, already.  You might like it, and even if you don't, at least you will have experienced a little shred of personal growth.  This is the stuff that life is made of.

VYC: Never Swim Alone

VYC has changed its Dooryard Production to "Never Swim Alone" by Nova Scotia playwright Daniel McIvor.  If you've purchased an "Our Town" ticket, those will be honoured at the door and any difference in price refunded to you.  Full refunds will also be available should you choose not to attend "Never Swim Alone,"  but we encourage you to check out this great Maritime show.

Some info from Lee Kinney, Artistic Director of VYC:

Never Swim Alone by Nova Scotian playwright Daniel MacIvor. The play is a very contemporary piece with three actors - 2 men, 1 woman - with very minimal set, costume and lighting requirements. The piece is very engaging and exciting, and will introduce new staging and production styles for our company.


Russ Hunt, a STU professor, wrote a review of the a Hampton High production in 2003 that can be found here: http://www.stthomasu.ca/~hunt/reviews/swim.htm and is worth taking a look through for an idea of the play.

If you're not familiar with MacIvor, he is also well worth taking a look at. He is one of the most successful and prolific Canadian playwrights, specializing in meta-theatrical plays, and profound and hilarious one-man shows. He is originally from Sydney, NS, and has been working across Canada since the early 80s, continuing to write today (his latest play "His Greatness" about Tenessee Williams was published in 2008).

There's Something About Dooryard

Well, we've seen what's coming down the river, and it's a whole lot of festival fun. 

Last year's Dooryard Arts Festival was the first edition.  And we all know what "firsts" can be like: thrilling, hectic, terrifying, confusing, and unforgettable.  We ended last year sunburnt to a crisp, not quite broke and fiercely proud of what we managed to accomplish - despite needing Plan A, Plan B, Plan C, and Plan D to find a location, and figuring out how to close streets, recruit artists, pay musicians, power PA systems and countless other things.

This year we've made many improvements: cleaner porta potties (oh, YEAH!), a larger tent, food vendors, children's activities, art workshops for adults, more bands, more artists,  a great Saturday market lineup, new venues and much more.  I dare say this is the largest display of local talent anywhere in the province.  So, in keeping with last year's tradition, here are 10 things you do not want to miss at this year's Dooryard Arts Festival.

10.  Still-life drawing workshop for adults, Thursday, 7pm.  Yes, Virginia, adults can learn something new.

9.  Charlie Bomb: Hit and Run premiere, Wednesday night.  Charlie's worst nightmare and a few laughs too.

8. The opening cocktail party at Connell House.  Beautiful room, beautiful food, beautiful music. MMmm...

7. Writers! Jason Wilson on Thursday evening, Vagabond Trust on Friday afternoon, Beyond Words on Saturday afternoon.  Writers don't go out in public often, get a peek while you can.

6. The biggest little bands you can imagine stuffed into Fusion: Transatlantic Zodiac Ensemble (Wednesday ) and Oh No, Theodore! (Saturday).  No cover, but the Karma Cup will be in attendence.

5. New artworks from Jill Stephenson, Adam Atherton and Laurel Green. 

4. Tunes "from away:" Montreal's Abigail Lapell, NYC violinist Marc Zsammer and Nova Scotia's Mike Dalton.

3. The most rockin' evening Carleton County has seen since Woodstock. Oh wait....Mike Bochoff, Telfer, and Andrew Hunter & the Gatherers blow the roof off the mainstage Saturday night.

2. Juno Award Winner and banjo poet Old Man Luedecke makes you take back all those banjo jokes. Friday night on the mainstage.

1. Saturday. A full day of all-ages programming, including the return of the Queen Street Market.  Buskers, food, artist vendors, children's readings, drumming workshops, a magician, writers and songwriters.  This year, folks, the city comes to us. Say it with me: Saturday!

We've heard through the grapevine people are talking about the festival.  We hope so, it's for you!

Who Cares for the Body?

The random farmers near the roadside make me wonder.  They make my mouth water because I came from a family where you went outside to pick your supper, washed it and then put it on the table.  But these berry, egg and vegetable offerings next to commercial centres also make me uneasy - they shouldn't have to sit in deserted parking lots all day to get their produce to people. When farmers aren't in the grocery store, and aren't at the Farm Market, something is wrong.

I don't say this to upset any of the fine people on the Farm Market Board of Directors - they've worked hard to get a building and keep things going during times when food wasn't the blockbuster issue it seems to have become lately.  But we desperately need to have fresh local food at our Farm Market - not just for farmers, but for our bodies (not to mention the body politic).

But all this talk of food and the issues that surround it - corporate control of meat and grain production, obesity and diabetes, the death of cooking and the family meal, the separation that most people have from their food producers - really makes me think about the body and how uncared for it is nowadays.

For example: we're continually blasted with images and exhortations to buy food that is terrible for our bodies and for the planet.  And we're told it's a "treat."  No, it's not.  My mother's rasberry pie or string beans from the garden or real strawberries or a homemade cookie is a treat. 

We don't send kids outside to exercise and run around anymore, we don't go out dancing with our friends and spouses, we don't walk anywhere and we wonder why our ten year olds look sickly, our twenty year olds have back pain and everyone is depressed.  It's because we don't give proper consideration to our bodies anymore.  Using the phrase "my body" in most social situations will immediately make people suspect you are a wacko of some kind.  Too bad.

When I think back to my childhood, most of my good memories have something to do with my body: the smell of working men in my family coming in for supper (sawdust, hay and motor oil), the taste of food picked off the plant and eaten (carrots rinsed with the garden hose and devoured), long uphill bike rides and flying downhill on the other side, swims in the brook and lake, the homecooking of numerous aunts, mothers and grandmothers, mud pies, sandboxes, swing sets, sunsets, horses, long stories after supper. 

These are treats and not of the high-minded philosophical variety.  They are the things that form culture, keep us civilized and make us truly human.  I feel sad that we've lost the body.  I think the mind can be a terrible tyrant if it runs the show all the time.  A mind can be convinced of anything if you put the right message on 'repeat.'  The body is an ecosystem with its own internal balance.  When the environment of the body is off-kilter, it colours everything we see, hear, taste, touch, feel and think. 

Until we make peace with our bodies, we will never solve our overconsumption problems.  As goes the body, so goes the nation, perhaps....

Passivity

I'm nearly finished reading Richard Sennett's brilliant book "The Fall of Public Man."  I am on quest right now to understand why things are they way they are, both in general "society" and also in our little town.  It's pretty interesting, and beats watching the same commerical ten times in one evening.

I like Sennett because he doesn't just repeat the standard answers: ie. capitalism is bad, people are obsessed with material things, the political elite don't want an electoral system that actually reflects the priorities of working people. Spare me, please - it's not that simple.

Instead he looks at ideas of public and private and how our perception of what those mean has changed since the industrial revolution.  In the 17th and early 18th centuries people in public saw themselves as actors.  Showing your feelings was a well-practiced art, with specific ways of demonstrating each.  Talking to complete strangers in public was totally normal. Being social in a crowd was completely normal. Costumed public appearances were normal too.

Today people are absorped in the psychological dimensions of their families, living in neighbourhoods where people are just like them, and seeing crowds and strangers as something to be feared.  The most valued bonds are formed by sharing deep intimate thoughts. "Community" is made up of people forming these bonds. Narcissism is everywhere.

Our fundamental ideas about public and private have changed a lot, and where people used to be demonstrative in public, now they are passive, keeping their feelings on the inside and keeping their bodies still and silenced. We teach our children this all the time.

It was very common for people in the 18th century theatres to heckle, spit, boo, hiss, cry, laugh, and even sit on the stage.  They did this unabashedly.  Picture the House of Commons during Question Period - that's what it was like.

Now it's difficult to get people to respond or participate in ordinary situations.  I've seen it - audiences that won't laugh or can't decide if it's "okay" to clap, people who won't dance to music designed for dancing, people who won't introduce themselves to someone despite being in close proximity to a stranger, church congregations who won't sing above a whisper for fear of hearing their collective voice.  It's everywhere, pass the remote control. It has poltical implications - most people won't get organized enough to protest or to challenge systems which are actually doing harm to them or their compatriots.

Situations where people shun this passivity are seen as audacious and maybe slightly dangerous. Heaven forbid you might be seen enjoying yourself in public, or that you might experience something out of the ordinary in a crowd of strangers. You might actually change the system.

I think school has a large part in engraining passivity, as do television and advertising.  I think this passivity makes us insecure about ourselves and robs us of opportunities to express joy, sorrow and anger in a meaningful way in public.  We have a need to participate in something other than consumerism, whether it's collective joy, the political process, storytelling, or the social life of a town or city.

So get off the couch/internet/txt and go somewhere new today.  What you will see will change you.  And you'll be fine - slightly different, but more fully human.

How will I know what to "like" ?

I don't have time to fully explore this right now but it looks promising.  All you techno-punks (or people who value their private information) will likely find this interesting.

http://www.joindiaspora.com/project.html

More to come after I have a chance to digest...

That pesky Charter of Rights

A lot has been said and written about the G8/G20 events in Toronto.  Here's what I have to say about it.

A lot of the commentators seem to have really bizarre perceptions of people who protest.  There is generally no discussion about why normal people decide to skip the family BBQ, the trip to the movies, etc. to go and get their heads whacked by a bunch of agressive and.or frightened police officers. (I'm not convinced all police officers are inherently evil).

The assumptions tend to go one of two ways:
1. These "privileged kids" should stop whining and realize how good their lives are. 
2.  The protesters are trouble-makers who don't even know what they're protesting.

I have been to a couple of large protests (tear-gas included) and here's who goes to protests: old ladies who are concerned about cuts to public health care and pensions, students who feel that corporations have too much economic power/political influence/not enough responsibilty, union members who are concerned about their job security, indigenous people who have been kicked off their land, people concerned about climate change and environmental degradation.

There seems to be a real disconnect between Canadians' assumptions that we have "free speech" and supporting fellow Canadians in the exercise of those rights.  In case you forgot, here's what ye olde Charter of Rights and Freedoms has to say on the issue:

                     SECTION 2: Everyone has the following fundamental freedoms:
(a) freedom of conscience and religion;
(b) freedom of thought, belief, opinion and expression, including freedom of the press and other media of communication;
Citizens have the right to challenge the legitimacy of corporate institutions like the G8 and the G20. Disagreeing with the government does not equal losing your democratic rights. 
(c) freedom of peaceful assembly; and
Standing with a sign and a message does not make you a terrorist.
(d) freedom of association.


If this G20 mess had happened in China, lots of self-righteous commentators would have disapprovingly mentioned that the government spent over a billion dollars on militarzed police, and that shortly after the singing of the national anthem, those police charged into a peaceful crowd, swinging clubs at the heads of mothers, grandmothers, uncles and brothers. 

But it wasn't China, it was Canada.  And lots of people on the sidelines seem to have forgotten that the majority of people who protested are people just like them.  And what I find the most disturbing is that the same people who want to pretend that protesters are "trouble-makers" also complain that corporations have too much power and that governments won't stand up to them. Well, you can't have it both ways, folks. 

One last thing: if people hadn't protested in the past, women would not be legal "persons" in Canada, there would be no regulations against child labour, there would be no health care, minimum wage, collective bargaining or environmental laws.  So maybe it's time to abandon the simplistic assumptions and take a closer look at why regular people would put themselves in harm's way.