Author: asitoughttobemagazine

COMMENTARY

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Photo of what is commonly called a Mercury dime, but which actually depicts Liberty wearing a Phrygian cap with wings, symbolizing both liberty and freedom of thought. It was designed by Adolph Weinman.

TOWARDS A DEMOCRATIC, COOPERATIVE, AND CARING ECONOMY

by Mira Luna

There has been a lot of talk lately about how we should reform our economy. In order to figure out where we want our economy to go, we need to evaluate where we currently are. The economy we operate within in the US is, by many measures, not taking care of our most basic needs. The US spends more on healthcare than any other country, but is now ranked 50th in longevity and 47 million people in the US are without health insurance. 3.5 million people, 39% of them children, currently experience homelessness every year and 30% of Americans are on the edge of poverty. 36.2 million people live in households considered to be food insecure, including 12.4 million children. Even by the most conservative standards, the US ranks 23rd in world happiness despite its enormous wealth, making up one quarter of the world’s GDP. We work longer hours for less pay doing unsatisfying work and have little time to connect with each other, as the social fabric of our communities slowly disintegrates. Why is wealth being pulled away from the things that we need and the things that make us truly happy?

Where money flows is partly determined by where it comes from. US dollars are issued solely by the Federal Reserve (a private financial institution) as debt (usually from loan agreements, including to the US government), which means it must be paid back with interest. The money to pay for this growing debt comes out of one person or institution’s pocket and interests accumulates in another’s pocket, creating inequalities and pooling wealth in fewer and fewer hands. The Federal Reserve attempts to set the value of the dollar by controlling the supply of it as a scarce resource. So even though there is enough food or housing for everyone, there will not be enough money in the hands of those that need it to pay rent or buy food, especially in times of economic recession. Markets also create artificial scarcity for the sake of increasing value, making only somewhat scarce resources and very abundant resources seem very scarce.

Scarcity created by the centralized monetary system and the market encourage unnecessary competition and greed out of fear that there isn’t enough resources out there for everyone. In the US, the top 10% of the population now possesses 80% of all financial assets while the bottom 90% holds only 20%, a significant threat to democracy, as concentration of wealth also leads to concentration of unchecked power. A continually growing economy is not sustainable, a boom-bust economy is not secure, and an unjust economy will lead inevitably to other social problems.

With the current economic crisis, we have an opportunity to create tools and structures that facilitate a shift away from wealth accumulation and competition for scarce resources to a more democratic, cooperative, and caring economy. How do we start to make this transition? We must start to decentralize our economy and develop aspects of it that have disappeared after decades of free market and capitalist fundamentalism.

If you can imagine, we operate within three economic circles. In the innermost circle, immediate family and friends give freely amongst each other (though less than they used to) – this network of trust is primarily a gift economy, usually with no expectation of direct reciprocity.  Our local communities used to provide the middle circle of economy, meeting most of our basic needs that our families and friends couldn’t. This middle circle was made up of local government and also people and business we knew well, trusted and exchanged with regularly, usually reciprocally through barter or exchange of money. Evaluations of who needs what the most, who we trust, and who deserves the most would influence our trading. Today most of this middle circle is gone. Now the outer circle, consisting exclusively of anonymous monetary exchanges in the global economy, determined primarily by the highest market value or profit, has consumed most of the two inner circles. We have very little control over this outer circle of trade and it has done great damage as it is run by businesses and people who have little vested interest in or responsibility towards the communities that they affect.

In order to create a better economy, we need to redevelop the inner and middle circles and reduce the dominance of the outer circle. There are many grassroots projects already underway to develop the inner and middle circles – worker cooperative development organizations, cohousing and cooperative housing projects, community credit unions, land trusts, urban community gardens, bicycle kitchens, free clinics, sustainable local investment programs, ridesharing, recycling stores, and community currencies are just a few examples. Though we can’t completely jump ship right away from the current economic system, we can slowly build alternatives as a transition to the new economy. Community currencies, though not a panacea, can be an especially potent fulcrum point in making this shift.

Regional or municipal community currencies that are well constructed can help redirect wealth away from corporations and towards local businesses, local governments, and not for profit groups. They can also provide stability in a roller-coaster market economy so that people don’t lose their jobs and public services don’t need to be cut. Local currencies re-pattern behavior by encouraging local exchanges, relationships and local self- and small business employment, increasing local community self-sufficiency and sustainability. Spending locally results in three times the income effects, three times the wealth effects, three times the jobs, and three times the tax income, before it leaves the community. Community currencies combined with import replacement could drastically increase local wealth and stability. Ithaca Hours and Berkshares paper currencies are two good examples of paper currencies successfully being used in the United States, as well as the Worgl in Austria and the Chiemgauer in Germany. Over 300 alternative scrips issued in North America during the Great Depression.

For other needs and wants, we should create soft currencies within the middle circle that transition us towards the gift economy and indirect reciprocity.  We should design these currencies so as to maximize feelings of abundance and trust in communities. Soft currencies include mutual credit systems like time banking and LETS (Local Employment/Exchange Trading Systems). Time banks are based on hour-for-hour exchange that reduces the emphasis on keeping score, creates abundance because we all have some time and skills to offer, and reduces inequalities through a single standard metric, the hour, rather than the market value of that hour. Because there is no interest in this system, there is no incentive to accumulate credits and no problem with being in debt.  Wealth then circulates more fluidly throughout the community, which means people are taking care of each other. Time banks and other mutual credit systems now number in the hundreds in the US and in the thousands across the world. The most successful mutual credit system is the Swiss WIR bank, a business to business trading and accounting system, which has captured a significant portion of the economy and buffered it from depressions.

In order to create a more loving economy, we should also create as many opportunities for gift giving as possible. Gifting builds a collective consciousness that we are all in this together and we trust each other to take care of each other.  There are many examples of successful gift economies. The entire country of Mali functions primarily on a gift economy. Other examples of gift economy are practiced in Black Rock City by participants of Burningman and in the Pacific Northwest by indigenous peoples during potlatch ceremonies.  Spreading around the world contagiously are small events which epitomize the gift economy, called Really Really Free Markets, in contradistinction to the capitalist free market, which actually gives nothing away for free and tries to commodify everything. In a Really Really Free Market, skills are shared, services are offered, music is often is provided, and goods are given away, but no money, barter, or advertising is allowed.  Everyone receives reward merely by seeing others benefit from their gifts and they may take whatever they need, whenever they need it, building trust that all will be provided for.

As we grow these inner and middle circles, we will see a shift toward a more democratic, cooperative, caring , and dare I say, loving economy. Our currencies, businesses, banks, and investment mechanisms should all be based on our highest values and the kinds of relationships we want rather than these tools and structures determining our relationships and our values. It is time to move forward consciously, deliberately and and fearlessly to create the new economy.

–Mira Luna is a San Francisco based activist who is working on developing an alternative economy in the Bay Area. She helps coordinate Bay Area Community Exchange, a local timebank, JASecon, and the Really Really Free Market. Her blog is Trust is the Only Currency.

I WANT TO BE BETTER

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Ajanta caves in Northern India

Reclining Buddha carved in the Ajanta Caves in Northern India, dating to the 2nd century B.C.

I WANT TO BE BETTER

by Eve Toliman

I once read about a young man who joined an ashram (I think his name was Chris and I think the ashram was in San Francisco).  At a certain point he slowed way down.  He smiled sweetly and spoke less and less.  His peers were awed by his spiritual progress.  They tried to emulate what they believed was his serenity.  Over a period of about a year, he became slower and stiller until he didn’t speak at all.  He just smiled.  A shiny, round, apple-cheeked young Buddha.  Enlightenment.  Turns out he had a massive brain tumor.  His fellow aspirants had mistaken dullness for serenity.  (I think pharmaceutical companies capitalize on a similar confusion.)  I fear I am Chris (minus the sweetness) — something vital in me is being eclipsed by something vacuous.

I have a friend who won a silver medal for basketball at the World Games.  Like many athletes, her body pioneering new limits, her performance a testament to human spirit and will, she was debilitated by injuries.  Two surgeries later, never having achieved the peak of her athletic capability, she could no longer walk without pain.  She can’t even bear to watch the game anymore.  The love of her life is whole and well, blithely wooing others.

When I was 26 my mother was diagnosed with a terminal cancer.  Ironically (or not) she had worked at Sloan-Kettering as an aide to an oncologist studying the same cancer that took her life at 55.  We were a spirited and unbalanced group to begin with.  During this last year of her life, when all hope died and the shadow of a guillotine draped everything we did, we were launched to new extremes. We drank harder, laughed harder, and pushed harder against the huge inevitability that was pushing toward us. I was doing computer projects — tedious, relentless attention to detail.  As an antidote to the colossal left brain activity that occupied too much of my other time, I started drawing — a lot.  On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, I took two three hour drawing classes back-to-back.  I sketched still lifes in the morning with a brilliant, laser-like, high-speed printmaker whose work hung in the Guggenheim.  As he passed by, people muttered about the effects of long-term exposure to printing chemicals.  Hushed and inconclusive, it nonetheless impressed me with a desire to avoid printmaking.  In the afternoon, I drew nude models with a sardonic landscape painter whose chosen genre had fallen out of popular consideration.  He pursued his craft knowing it would never amount to anything more than it was, his own private communion with creativity.

One morning, I was drawing in Robert-the-twisted-printmaker’s class.  He was talking non-stop, as usual, but for some reason on that particular morning he kept looming over my shoulder when I least expected it.  I was trying to get into that right brain groove, just be my hands as Andrew Wyeth put it, when BAM, in my ear, rapid fire conceptual jargon.  I would stop and wait for the clatter to move on.  I finally gave up and just listened.  Intermingled brilliance and nonsense.  Impossible to ignore.  Fascinating and grating, my left brain sifting, panning for gold.  When I showed up for figure drawing, chalks in hand, model prepared, quick sketches done, I was paralyzed.  I just stared, hoping, waiting for that right brain relief.  Walt-the-pragmatist-painter finally asked, “Why aren’t you drawing?”

“I was listening to Robert all morning.”

“Oh, I understand.”

Here I sit, waiting for relief, stunned by the non-stop, clattering demands of a life — meals, laundry, dishes, money, phone snafu again, still haven’t replaced that spare tire, my daughter’s tooth needs to be pulled, I need a crown, (where are my son’s adult teeth?), finish the web copy, my passport’s expired, new doctor for the kids, back-to-school night, we are out of bread, invoice that client, oh god, I forgot to call the insurance agent — hoping, waiting for that right brain relief, spaciousness in which to feel and dream and do nothing at all.  I feel dullness creeping over me.  I watch my love blithely wooing others.

When my mother died, I stopped drawing all together. Ten years and two kids later, when divorce seemed inevitable, I started writing.  It felt as if my soul had been startled into some kind of action and was now fighting for her life.  It is ten years later again.  My soul seems to be in some kind of tug-of-war with modern life.  I am the rope.  We are the rope.   I hear the same things from friends.  These are people who love their work, love their families, but feel eroded by the demands of managing their worldly lives.  Perhaps it’s time of life.  For those of us who didn’t give up, time is taunting us, drawing us out.  If our souls are to have expression, it is now or never.

Perhaps the tug-of-war is created by my misperception.  It is not the inevitable effect of an evil world against a pure soul, of endless tasks eclipsing meaning  — it is the result of a false split.  It is not worldly here and spiritual there, mundane here and creative there, rather it is love throughout.  Driving to the mechanic, watching the teens in the crosswalk, waiting at the post office, calling the dentist,…  The mundane simply raw material for creativity.  Spaciousness throughout.  No destination, just this.  When I stop resisting the tug and just fall, a curious reversal occurs.  That place of tension becomes the opening.

My boyfriend and I have been having the same fight for over a year.  Every month or so, we approach the heated topic gingerly and within minutes it blows up again and we retreat.  Yesterday morning, for the first time, we moved safely over the mined border into an entirely new landscape.  Just like that, peace.  In the evening, he turned to me and said, “I want to be better — better to you, better for you — than I know how to be.”  I felt it enter my chest and move around.  I realized, I want to be better, too — much better than I know how to be.  Suddenly the tug-of-war is recast: It is not what’s keeping me from the fullness of my human life — it is my human life.

–Eve Toliman

Further Reading:

I Dreamt of My Father Last Night by Eve Toliman, 8/4/09

Prodding Baudelaire by Eve Toliman, 7/28/09

Beneath the Damage and Apology by Eve Toliman, 7/24/09


A HALF MAST REBEL

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A HALF MAST REBEL

by Gabriela Barragan

When I discovered what the religiously-tinted definition of a prude was, back in the 6th grade, I decided I didn’t want to be one.

In my 11-year-old mind, already indoctrinated by a steady stream of Catholic-infused political beliefs and dogma, prudes didn’t sneak Guns N’ Roses tapes, heavy metal magazines, or try smoking an abandoned pack of cigarettes.

But I wasn’t about to turn full-fledged rebel.  In concert with the floweret of rebellion beginning to bloom there was a flash of the most boring of all adages, ready for harnessing at any moment (especially by dieters), and one my Mom stated constantly:  “Everything in moderation”.

So, while I was determined not be a pre-makeover Charlotte Vale from Now Voyager (young spinster goes from nunnery dress to sophisticate on celluloid in black and white) I also wasn’t going to manifest the exhibitionistic Catholic school girl stereotype, with a skirt hiked up to there – the maximal anti-prude.

But the rebel floweret inched a bit taller.  I may not have attempted to set my uniform skirt on fire, but I watched.  And I was disappointed, like everyone else, that the material kind of melted and curled, and that the resulting acrid stench made me and my adolescent comrades run away and stuff our mouths with contraband Hubba Bubba to stave off the caustic tang that permeated our polyester, our Peter Pan collars, and even it seemed, our skin.

More than 20 years later, I’m not as fascinated by cloying bubble gum flavors, burning my uniform in effigy, or espousing the Catholic doctrines I was taught by teachers with (mostly) good intentions.  In those 20 years I’ve met many people of diverse backgrounds.  Through more than a few I observed that faith (not religion, but faith) is not just housed among the very good, the very dogmatic, and those who shun all forms of venial sin.

A notable example:  The best yoga teacher I ever had, a former heroin addict, could drink a bottle of wine and get blazed the night before class and still teach with the kind of patience and in-the-moment presence only gifted instructors possess.  She was a good time gal, and a dedicated and very spiritual yogi – not an either/or.  It gradually became clear that I didn’t have to run from the religious prude archetype proffered by teachers back in my uniform days.  I just had to merely give it my regards and say, “No, thank you”.

I may have veered off the path my parents put me on back in Kindergarten, while they have become even more devout, but I now understand the importance of respecting their beliefs even though they are not okay with mine (maybe slightly alarmed is more like it).  We’ve even managed to have some conversations about our differences without skyrocketing blood pressures on either side (of the aisle).

So, instead of continuing to run, or drowning out the dogma with GN’R, I’ll listen.  I won’t necessarily accept or adopt, but I’ll listen.  My yoga instructor once said:  “flexible in the body, flexible in the mind”.  My sprint now is away from narrowness and rigidity, and toward a more catholic view – but allow me emphasize that lower-case “c”.

–Gabriela Barragan

Further Reading:

My Musical Corkage Fee by Gabriela Barragan, 7/21/09

JACOB LAWRENCE

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Ironers by Jacob Lawrence, gouache on paper, 1943.

JACOB LAWRENCE IRONERS 1943

by Nathan Birnbaum

This painting plays into the labeling of Jacob Lawrence’s early work as “primitive,” bringing to mind descriptors such as “folksy” and the “common-man.” Clearly, we have a piece that is directly addressing the social, political, and economic underpinnings of a cultural task.

Both in the post-Emancipation era and before, during, and after the Great Migration of African Americans to the North, black women found themselves pigeonholed into domestic labor jobs, among them ironing and washing the clothing of more affluent white families. Although this work could be seen as demeaning, these women in fact came to look upon the work as a way to express their new-found freedom, a theme addressed in a book entitled To ‘Joy My Freedom by Tera W. Hunter (which ironically chose this particular painting for its cover).  When competing with other ethnic populations for jobs in the economic sector, washing was fiercely defended, even violently at times, as an African-American trade. However, after moving North in the Great Migration (and I suspect that Lawrence’s rendering comes from what he observed in Harlem in the late 30s and early 40s), this work not only came to symbolize entrenchment in the lower class sector, but long hours slaving over what amounted to labor intensive work for little pay.

But determination to embrace identity, like that in the post-Emancipation era, was a characteristic of the New Negro which Lawrence famously addressed in his Migration Series. According to one scholar, he “simply interpreted life as he saw it” and Lawrence himself might appropriately comment that this photo addresses the fact that African Americans “didn’t have a physical slavery” but rather, an “economic slavery.”

In terms of aesthetic qualities, Lawrence’s use of broad, square, large, and block-like figures not only speaks to the theme of domestic labor, but immediately brings out the strength of the women. The figures jump out of the photo, expanding the viewing capacity of one examining the painting, and the fact that there are multiple women serves to tread the line between sympathy for and truthful depiction of entrenchment in the labor force. Lawrence employs techniques that typified Modernist art, such as repetition of forms, reduction and simplicity of these forms (for example, there is no differentiation in the faces, clothing, and expressions of the women, as Lawrence chooses to leave these details out entirely), and furthermore, he chooses largely arbitrary colors for his canvass. Much of the painting appears superficially flat, except for the irons, which might serve to highlight the heaviness and cyclical nature of the labor.

But given the background that we can ascertain from the historical information I addressed earlier, Ironers easily fits Lizzetta LeFalle-Collins’ claim that Lawrence “not only was telling the history of the Negro, but also introducing viewers to a new way of seeing objects and compositional relationships.”  These women clearly have a defined relationship with their work.  And perhaps seeing the prominence of their irons and the size of their working arms serves to present domesticity in a new way, removed from a society that was deep in the throes of World War II.  Washing of the clothes wasn’t grounded in war but rather it was grounded in everyday life for these women, and had been historically as well.

–Nathan Birnbaum

Further Reading:

An Argument for a Core, By Nathan Birnbaum, 8/1/09

“A New Era of Engagement”, But for Whom? by Nathan Birnbaum, 7/15/09

COMMENTARY

Posted on by asitoughttobemagazine

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Ralph Nader aged 2, with his older sister Laura (who has been a Professor of Anthropology at UC Berkeley since 1960).  This photograph was taken in 1936.

THE HOLY TRINITY OF INELIGIBILITY?

by Rod Ciferri

I’ve previously written inquiries into the eligibility of the two major party candidates of the last presidential election in “War Is Over!” and “McCain’s Natural Born Problem”.  Therein I noted that being a U.S. citizen is not enough to be eligible for president.  The U.S. Constitution, in Article 1, Section 2, sets a higher standard, “natural born citizen”, which requires a presidential candidate be born in the country to at least a U.S. citizen father.

I’ve come to the conclusion that McCain’s undisputed Panamanian birth crushes his eligibility since the mere U.S. proprietary rights acquired in the Panama Canal Zone did not make it part of the U.S., and, absent pulling a rabbit out of the hat, and explaining some gigantic lies about his personal life, Obama’s eligibility is non-existent as well due to his father’s apparent Kenyan citizenship.

What about Nader?  He did come in third place according to popular vote (although didn’t reach the radar screen with the Electoral College).  If McCain and Obama are both disqualified, then Nader would be the presumptive front-runner to win the Electoral College vote. Is he a natural born citizen, and, thus eligible for president?

The short answer is:  Maybe, maybe not.

Like Obama, it depends upon the citizenship of his father.  Although information about Nader’s public life is voluminous on the internet, details about his parents are skeletal in comparison.

A glance at wikipedia.com reveals that Nader’s parents, Nathra and Rose, who were natives of Lebanon, were married in 1925 and “immigrated to the United States.”  Nader was born in Winsted, Connecticut in 1934.  It is not clear to me when Nader’s parents immigrated to the United States.

The question of Nader’s natural born citizenship, hinges upon whether or not Nathra was a naturalized U.S. citizen prior to Nader’s birth.  If so, Nader is a natural born citizen, having been born in the country to a father who was a citizen, and, thus, eligible for president.

The immigration statute governing naturalization in effect from 1924 through 1952 was the Immigration Act of 1924.  Under this law, it was possible for an immigrant to become naturalized a U.S. citizen within five years.

If Nader’s parents immigrated shortly before or after their marriage in 1925, they would have been in the country for nine years when Nader was born.  Therefore, it is possible they had become U.S. citizens before Nader was born.

However, since I’ve found no information about the natural born citizen issue regarding Nader, his eligibility for president remains unclear.

–Rod Ciferri

Further Reading:

McCain’s Natural Born Problem by Rod Ciferri, 8/2/09

War is Over! by Rod Ciferri, 7/17/09

COMMENTARY

Posted on by asitoughttobemagazine

cocaine

Cocaine. U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration photograph.

A Blogage Plane

POWDER TO THE PEOPLE? YES.

by Jack Freeman

Although I am not advocating the use of hard drugs, the legalization of Opium, Cocaine and Heroin along with Marijuana is a good idea. 1. It will save lives. 2. From a cultural stand point, it will, I think, help save and restore the health and integrity of society which should be progressive and positive, rather than negative and digressive. And we will not be living in the past. 3. Fewer Covert Wars and Drug Wars would be fought by governments, private armies or militias. One reason for my writing this statement is because of the negative influence I saw the new Drug climate had on the art scene in San Francisco in the 1960 and 70s when the laws were enforced in a public way. The 60s were a chaotic transition from Post WWII.  The 70s was when a the New World Order began. It had many reactions. One was Drugs another was going back… a kind of neurosis.

First, medically, Drug addiction can result in poor health and death. As the writer Tom Wolfe said after researching “The Electric Cool Aid Acid Test” in San Francisco, that the Black Plague had returned in some Hippie patients who dropped out and refused to be vaccinated. Second, socially, in the local Art Scene, there was a kind of atrophy of personality that crept in from use or the new Drug cultural influence.  Conversations became empty.  Nothing technical was discussed, at least on a traditional level, just words like “far out” or “that’s a gas, man”.  And, the dress was down.  Art students became divided between drug users and non users. So, painters, “daubers”, drank wine and the Hard Edge and Funk artists smoked grass, basically. Jokes were not funny. People were remarking that America had lost its sense of humor. That was not lost on Charles Schulz who said on TV that the comics were not funny any more.  It was a national epidemic that is still around. And, for what ever complex reasons, by the 1970s, people were becoming divorced from nature and them selves. This resulted in the Cyborg cult movies. If drugs had been legal, this would not have happened because use would have not been iconoclastic or recklessly recreational, in my opinion.

For some there was a special drug, Acid that fueled an art movement, Acid Rock music and the visual arts, too. That is one thing, but I have read that experiments with acid on unsuspecting people were done by COINTELPRO. Acid was slipped into cocktails at a party at 200 Chestnut st to see if mind control was possible. One lady jumped out of a window. Another person went to SF General. COINTELPRO was the organization that collected names of the Berkeley Free Speech demonstrators. This still goes on. In a 500 page report, 1,500 incidents have been listed over a 10 month period. Drug Laws facilitate arrests and reporting of names at demonstrations.

My argument about the negative side of Drug Laws is that they make enforcing racial profiling too easy and exclusive. It is like the haves and the have nots. We are all ethnic. When arrests have to be made, they should be made when someone has committed a violent act or where or there is a victim of some kind. The way it appears is that people are being arrested for being different therefore they are wrong in what they do.

Today the negative influence of Drug Trafficking and use in society has become worse than it was 50 years ago. It is insidious. Taking drugs is not a rebellion forward, for example. We live in the past as Tom Wolfe has suggested. Leadership should lead. It was not being strong enough after WWII to stop the trafficking that Drugs got a foot hold and now 60 years later we are in a backward mode like a hermit crab.

We are back in time which is not far to go in one sense, since it is all around us. But, if you are at the apex of modern civilization, it is a long way back. It is retarded. Maybe this is one reason for the rebirth of folk music.

If you ever wondered what happened to the Middle Ages, and thought it ended before the Italian Renaissance, you would be wrong.

–Jack Freeman

Further Reading:

Art Review: A Blogage Plane by Jack Freeman 7/17/09

SONIA SOTOMAYOR

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soniasotomayor

Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor’s 1972 yearbook photograph from Cardinal Spellman High in North Bronx, New York.

WATCH WHAT YOU SAY BECAUSE … SOMEONE MIGHT HEAR YOU!

by Diana Cristales

“I would hope that a wise Latina woman with the richness of her experiences would more often than not reach a better conclusion than a white male who hasn’t lived that life.” These were the words spoken by former appeals court judge Sonia Sotomayor.

Intrigued by the amount of press Sotomayor and her statement had attracted, I decided that I wanted to gain a better understand of what she really meant by those words. So, a couple of YouTube videos and online articles later I found the original text to which this statement belonged. The entire speech can be found in the text of the Judge Mario G. Olmos Memorial Lecture in 2001, delivered at the University of California, Berkeley, School of Law. It was published in the Spring 2002 issue of Berkeley La Raza Law Journal, a symposium issue entitled “Raising the Bar: Latino and Latina Presence in the Judiciary and the Struggle for Representation.”

My first impression was that these words, within the context of the entire speech, were intended to serve as an acknowledgement that there is value in cultural understanding, representation and activism, for people of all cultures, in regard to law. My second thought was, ”she shouldn’t have said that out loud.”

That made me think about a social behavior that is not only common, but expected. We don’t always say what we mean in front of just anyone. Either, because we are afraid to say what we think, or perhaps because it is bad social etiquette.

The truth is that, wives don’t always say what they really think to their husbands in the same way that they do to their best friends, especially about sex. Employees do not usually speak as openly with their bosses as they do with their co-workers. Teens do not share as much about their most intimate thoughts with their parents as they do with bff’s. And a person of color is not always going to share their cultural perspective with people outside of their immediate social circle. How do I know? I know because I am a person of color. I will even go as far to say that some white people will only say certain things in front of other white people. How do I know? Because my ex husband was white and that’s what he told me.

Does that surprise you? Well when I found that out, it surprised me too! He told me the truth….not all white people like Latin people and even if they won’t tell you that themselves….they tell one another. I can’t tell you how many conversations I have had with Latino’s where they vent their frustrations about how they are treated or about how they perceive other cultures. They would never say these things to a person outside of their culture because it’s just not polite.

So what is really the problem with Sonia Sotomayor’s words? That she actually said what she was thinking out loud. She said it and it was recorded and now…it can be used to define her beliefs as a Latina woman and as a judge. She spoke to the public in way that is best reserved for private conversations. Not having been a public figure to the extent that she is now, she allowed herself to be candid “in public”. Sotomayor felt comfortable expressing her concerns with this specific group in a way that was relevant to that group and now the world has access to those same words without having heard the entire speech.

The real questions that can be derived from her words are: Can one person with a diverse cultural background make better decisions that a person without a more homogeneous cultural background? Is one culture more objective than the other? Do all decisions require objectivity in order to be the right decision or do other factors need to be taken into account? Perhaps what she was saying is that a person with a limited understanding of other cultures is at a disadvantage.

Isn’t it possible that a group of people who have shared similar experiences, come from a similar tier of society, and have a similar educational background would make decisions based on shared values. Is it possible to be completely objective given our cultural histories? Now what about our educational background? If we are privy to the same information, wouldn’t we then develop a somewhat common idea of what is right and wrong?

To be quite honest I didn’t like what she said when I first read it. I didn’t like the way it sounded, but after reading more about where and when she said it, I feel that she acknowledged, what she considered, her social responsibility for a part of the population that is not always represented or valued.

Did those words give us an insight into the way she thinks and what she believes? Yes they did, for that time. However, it has been eight years after she spoke those words and I’m sure she is that much wiser.

As to her ability to serve as a judge in the highest court…… I for one would like to be culturally represented in a country where I have spent all but four years of my life. I would like to see a wise Latina woman make an impact in the life of people she serves. I am excited that she is looking at the things that might have been overlooked. We deserve people in government who are willing to speak their truth, even when we do not agree or understand. At their best, lawyers and judges should serve as stewards of the law who have the integrity and insight to speak for those who cannot speak for themselves.

It is August 6, 2009 and the Senate has approved Judge Sonia Sotomayor’s nomination to the Supreme Court. The rest is herstory, I mean history.

–Diana Cristales

Further Reading:

In So Many Words: The over-intellectualization of art, culture and politics by Diana Cristales, 7/20/09

WITNESS IN PALESTINE

Posted on by asitoughttobemagazine

book_cover

THE OLIVE HARVEST

by Anna Baltzer

My first week in Palestine has been spent in the trees. Every morning, I wake up at sunrise to walk with farmers to their olive groves, where we climb the ancient trees and fill our shirts with olives, taking occasional breaks to sip fresh sage tea and admire the scenery. It is fall, the time of the olive harvest, when hundreds of thousands of Palestinian olive trees burst with ripe purple olives, to be plucked and marinated or pressed for fresh olive oil.

For many generations, local Palestinian farmers have depended on the fall harvest as a major source of income to support their families. However, many farmers now say they are afraid to approach their trees alone. They have been traumatized by repeated harassment from soldiers and armed settlers from Israel, who for decades have been patrolling Palestinian land to ensure the protection and expansion of Jewish-only settlements.

Settlements are towns or communities built by Israel exclusively for Jews on internationally recognized Palestinian land. Israeli settlements are in violation of Article 49 of the Fourth Geneva Convention, which prohibits an occupying power from transferring citizens from its own population to the occupied territory, in this case the West Bank, the Gaza Strip,[1] and East Jerusalem. In many languages, like French, the general word for “settlement” is the same as the word for “colony.” But in English and Hebrew, a more benign word is used: people living in Israeli settlements are referred to as “settlers,” not “colonizers.”

In spite of international law, Israel not only condones the illegal settlements, but actively supports their establishment and growth. For example, the Israeli government subsidizes housing, water, electricity, transportation, and many other services for settlers. By declaring settlements “national priority areas,” the illegal colonies are entitled to 65% more grants than local councils in Israel, and financial assistance to lease land at rates well below the actual value.[2] Israel also offers tax breaks, business incentives, free schooling, and mortgage grants up to 95% in the settlements[3] to attract new Jewish citizens to become part of the occupying presence. The larger the Israeli population in the West Bank, Gaza, and Jerusalem, the stronger Israel’s claim to that land becomes.

On an Israeli road outside of Ariel settlement near our house, a Hebrew billboard announces to passersby, “Now is the time to move to Ariel. Join our community, and you will receive 100,000 New Israeli Shekels.” That’s more than US$20,000. Advertisements like this appeal not to well-off Israelis, but rather to poorer Israelis, like young families, recent immigrants, or Israelis of color. These might be people who couldn’t care less about the political or religious significance of the land itself. Maybe they are simply looking for a higher standard of living for themselves and their families.[4] In fact, most Israeli settlers move to the Palestinian Territories not because they think “This land is ours and nobody else’s,” but because in one way or another, their government is paying them to do so (with American tax-dollars).

A minority of settlers choose to live in the Palestinian Territories primarily for political or religious reasons. Many of these “ideological”—as opposed to “economic”—settlers frequently threaten or attack Palestinian farmers and families, because they believe the Palestinians are occupying land promised to the Jewish people by God. Due to the increasing danger of settler attacks, many farmers have started requesting accompaniment from Israeli peace groups and international organizations. The hope is that violent settlers or soldiers might exercise restraint in the presence of Israelis or internationals, either out of shame or because we might document the violence and transmit the news to Western media sources, where stories of Israeli settler or soldier violence often go untold.

One organization providing international accompaniment to Palestinian farmers is the International Women’s Peace Service (IWPS), where I am volunteering for the next 2 months. IWPS is a grassroots peace organization dedicated to documenting and nonviolently intervening in human rights abuses in the West Bank, and supporting Palestinian and Israeli nonviolent resistance to the Occupation. We are based in Haris, a small village in the West Bank’s rural Salfit region. When farmers from the neighboring village of Deir Istiya contacted us recently to request accompaniment, three IWPS women (myself included) and five Israeli activists volunteered to go.

Although the Deir Istiya farmers’ groves are not far from their homes, it was a long walk because Palestinians are not permitted to use the main road connecting their village with their land. That main road is a settler highway, built to connect nearby settlements with one another and with Israel proper. Most roads in the Occupied Territories are segregated, with older, sometimes dirt roads for Palestinians, and modern highways of up to four lanes for Israelis. The latter are built over demolished homes and olive groves of local Palestinian villages, but the road signs often give no indication of past or present Palestinian communities. Signs point the way to Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, and nearby Israeli settlements. The ones we passed on the way to Deir Istiya’s olive groves were printed in Hebrew, Arabic, and English, but the Arabic had been blacked out with spray-paint, we assumed by ideological settlers.

Our first days of harvesting with the farmers and Israeli activists were peaceful. I marveled at the technique of separating olives from leaves: everything is poured out of buckets from a high place, and the wind carries away the light leaves while the olives, heavy with oil, fall into a pile together. The atmosphere was pleasant, sorting olives, drinking tea, and chatting in the shade of the silvery trees. The Palestinians did their best in Hebrew and the Israelis and I tried to speak a little Arabic.

Today was less serene. As we moved west with the harvest, we came closer to the bulldozers plowing through Deir Istiya’s groves. The bulldozers are leveling olive groves for the expansion of nearby Revava settlement. My friends from Deir Istiya fear their land will be next. While we were harvesting, a Revava settler with an M16 semiautomatic weapon approached us and asked the Palestinians for their identification papers. The farmers obliged. The other three IWPS women and I approached the settler to observe him, trying to be conspicuous but not threatening. We knew the settler had no right to ask the farmer for his ID—it is a Palestinian grove—but our policy is not to take the lead, rather to support Palestinians in their tactics as long as they are nonviolent. The farmer asked us to stay back, and we did. The farmer knew it was easier and safer to comply rather than refuse and risk facing violence from settlers or soldiers.

After the settler left, I volunteered to keep an eye out for settlers or soldiers, and also to keep watch over the farmers’ donkeys. (I had heard of recent cases of settlers stealing donkeys.) Half an hour later, three armed soldiers approached us and one asked if we had seen anyone around. We told him we’d seen a man with a gun. Alarmed, the soldier asked us to describe the man. We described the settler we had just seen and he relaxed visibly: “Just a Jew? Oh, his gun is necessary—he has to defend himself.”

The soldiers asked how long we would be there and we said until sunset. When they were gone, we discussed the encounter and agreed that in the future we would translate questions into Arabic instead of answering them ourselves, even if the questions were simple. Our purpose is not to speak or fight for Palestinians, but to support their right both to be on their land and to resist the forces occupying it.

It was a long walk home after harvesting. In addition to taking a long detour around the settler road, we had to cart all of the olives from that day in one trip because there have apparently been recent incidents of settlers stealing olives in the area. When we arrived at our house in Haris, we learned that a farmer from a nearby village had been taken away by soldiers while he was picking olives with his family and three international volunteers who were accompanying them. Fortunately, several groups were notified and took action. Rabbis for Human Rights (RHR), an Israeli peace organization that fights human rights violations in Israel and the Occupied Territories in the Jewish tradition of Tikkun olam, or social action, is already working on getting the farmer released. CNN reporters who happened to be in the neighborhood at the time will probably have a story, too. We are optimistic because of the international media coverage and sympathetic Israeli presence, and some of us will go to the village tomorrow to help finish the harvest that was interrupted.

Anna Baltzer is a Jewish American who has been documenting human rights abuses and supporting nonviolent direct action in the West Bank with the Int’l Women’s Peace Service.

This piece was first published on Anna Baltzer’s website: AnnaInTheMiddleEast.com on 11/18/03.

http://annainpalestine.blogspot.com/2003/11/olive-harvest.html

[1]

When this book went to press, Israeli settlers had been evacuated from the Gaza Strip, although the territory remained under Israeli military siege. For a post-evacuation update and analysis, see “Sewage Tsunami & Strangulation in Gaza (p. ***—ALSO SPIEL OR CONCLUSION?).

[2]

Patrick Müller, “Occupation in Hebron,” Alternative Information Center: AIC (2004), p. 29.

[3]

Palestinian Academic Society for the Study of International Affairs: PASSIA (2007 Diary), p. 313.

[4]

The situation bears a striking resemblance to the US military, which fills its enlisted ranks with underprivileged young men, often black or Latino, who fight not necessarily because they believe in the cause, but because they need the money and education that the army offers to them.

US vs. SOCIETY?

Posted on by asitoughttobemagazine

lady

ASK LADY ESQ.

Relationship advice from a divorce attorney.

Dear Lady Esq.,

What do you do when your core values clash with “society’s”? When your friends, family and everyone you meet needs to place you in a box upon which they can label you so they can “figure” you out? When you love someone so much you have done everything you want to to prove it, but no one believes you because you didn’t do the things that everyone else does because they’re “supposed to.”

These are the values I’m speaking of: Love is sufficient, makes no demands, and is not dependent upon anyone’s approval but those who are in love.

Why then must I be subjected to everyone “knowing” that my love is not real because I’m not “married”? Why then must I be subjected to everyone “knowing” that I don’t love my child because she’s not “baptized”? Why must the support of my family be conditioned upon such things? Why must the “state” (the stupidest most destructive idea ever conceived of and inexplicably supported by man) be a party to my love for a woman? Why must the “church” (tied for the title of the stupidest most destructive idea ever conceived of and inexplicably supported by man) be a party to my love for my child?

Why must the love of another for me be conditioned upon the support of state and church? Why can’t they love me unconditionally like I do my beloved and our child? Why can’t they lend a hand when we need it like I did when I had the abundance to do so — without insisting upon me having their values?

Are my beloved and my child not worthy of love because we don’t support nor require the support of state and church?

Why can’t everyone just be satisfied that they support or require the support of state and church AND leave everyone else alone who doesn’t?

– Against the Grain


Dear Against the Grain,

Ah yes, the us vs. society dilemma. Personally, I grapple with this one on the following level: I am not sure I believe in the institution of marriage. I think most people go into it for religious or romantic reasons, not fathoming in the slightest that it is in actuality a business partnership. Additionally, I believe that marriage changes a relationship. Sometimes for the better, but often a sense of ownership is instilled. Men feel emasculated. Women feel entitled. The whole dynamic shifts. And on top of all of that it is an institution that creates a false sense of security. Marriage is no guarantee your partner won’t leave you. It just means it’s going to be a longer and more costly break-up.

So, with that vision of marriage in my mind, why would I want to get married? Societal and cultural brainwashing. Since I was a little girl I’ve dreamed of the white dress, the veil, the flowers and cake. And as a grown woman what do I really want? The ring. Because my whole life my society and culture have been telling me that one day I’d grow up to be that princess in the white dress, that if my man really loved me he’d give me a big shiny diamond.

All understanding of societal and cultural brainwashing fully considered, when it comes to marriage, I want that ring. I want that party. I want to get married. Not because I want the institution, but because I stand no chance after 29 years of societal and cultural brainwashing of not wanting those things.

So, I try to navigate my way through a world of falsehoods that are created by others. And I think about what I really want. OK, I really want the ring. I do. Why? Because it means someone wants to marry me! I’m not quite as concerned with actually getting married as I am with knowing that someone wants to marry me. So I’m willing to start with the ring and navigate from there. I’m alright with the idea of a perpetual engagement. I’ll have the ring, people will see it sparkle and know that someone has asked me to marry him. That, in and of itself, might be enough for me.

And if it’s not? Well then, I have a plethora of alternatives available to me. I could actually get married (mostly for the tax benefits) but enter into a rock-solid prenup that is essentially a means to a hassle-free divorce. A prenup that enables both of us to walk away from the marriage without having to give each other anything, a prenup that treats our divorce like any other non-marital break-up.

There’s also the option of a commitment ceremony. A handfasting. Jumping the broom. An outdoor barefoot party under the chopa, overseen by a lesbian rabbi, with no legal ramifications attached.

Basically, I am open to exploring the possibilities of a partnership with my partner, and I’m willing to think outside the box. In fact, I’m fairly terrified of the box. The box was created by religion, church, and state (and federal government) to encourage marriage and help keep families together. But with a 50% divorce rate, clearly there is something wrong with the institution as implemented. And with the state having independent control over child support issues irrespective of marital status (at least in California), it seems to me the basic reasons behind marriage are now irrelevant, and we should start a revolution of a “to each his own” mentality surrounding the entire institution!

I don’t have any children, so I have not personally had to deal with the religious and societal pressure to baptize a child. And, being Jewish, for me the problem would come up in the form of a bris. Oh, how my son would love to know that one day a bunch of family members and friends sat around and ate and drank and preyed and celebrated while he had his foreskin removed in front of them! My, but religion can be quite silly.

No, I have not had to grapple with that problem, but I grapple with a similar one: I am not sure I ever want to have children. I am approaching 30 and there is no tick of a biological clock for me. I love my urban life, my ability to take lengthy trips abroad, the thought of giving up on America altogether and relocating to another country. I love my freedom, and I see children as a direct obstacle to maintaining that freedom. Now, many in my society and culture see this as selfish. If it is selfish, then let me be selfish!

I much prefer the thought of having children only if and when I know that I have lived all the life I can live and that I am ready to completely give up my life for the life of another. Because that is what parenthood is. You love someone so much you give up your life for theirs. From nine months of pregnancy to diaper changing and months of sleepless nights to baby-proofing your house and constantly keeping an eye on your toddler to being a chauffeur for extra curricular activities to constantly worrying about and probably fighting with your troublesome teenager to figuring out how to pay for college followed by a wedding – there is not an act from conception to death (of you or your child) where your life is not given over to your child.

I applaud those who do it. I love being an aunt. But parenthood, now, and perhaps forever, is not for me. I’m perfectly happy with that decision. It is my culture and society that are not. It is my religion that is not. It is the outside forces of church and state, culture and society, that look down on me for this “selfish” decision.

At the end of the day, my friend, we cannot change the discerning eyes of the forces that be. We cannot change the way government functions or religion behaves, other than in small ways. We cannot stop them from judging us or from trying to set parameters for us. We can only trust that we are living life our way, doing what is best for ourselves and the ones we love.

And this concept does not have to be mutually exclusive of religion. If a person lives by the basic tenets of their religion, by the teachings of their original deity (as opposed to the modern teachings of their organized religion), they can likely live their life in a way that works for them and still be a good Christian/Jew/Muslim/Buddhist/Hindu/Pagan/Wiccan/etc. Because the fundamental teachings of most religions are essentially the same. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Judge not lest ye be judged. Love thy neighbor. Essentially, be good to yourself and those you love, live a kind life, and you will make Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed-whomever happy. And more important than that, you’ll make yourself and the ones you love happy.

So I must disagree with your assessment of religion as being tied for the title of “the stupidest most destructive idea ever conceived of and inexplicably supported by man.” It is not religion, but organized religion, that is the problem. It is not the spiritual words of encouragement and goodness of Jesus that I take issue with, but what the various churches have done with them over the years. Man fucked this one up for everyone. Just like man is fucking up the world for everyone by making it uninhabitable with global warming and chemicals. Mankind, it appears, may just be a parasite on the face of this earth. But it is our own destruction that we are bringing about. The earth will persevere. Volcanoes will erupt, plates will shift, oceans will drain and fill. One day there will be no trace that we were ever here. And religion, church, state, government, society, and culture, will be long forgotten.

In the mean time, each of us must learn to be like ducks and let the water of outside opinion roll off our backs. We must be true to ourselves, live life in the way that we feel is right, adhere to our own core values that work for us, and know that in doing so we are “beating the system.” Church, state, society, culture, and government will go about their business of sticking their noses into other people’s business, likely for the rest of the time that mankind is on this earth. If we are bothered by it, we let them win. If we do what is right for us, regardless of the ideologies and constraints they try to impose upon us, and we don’t give a good goddamn what they think, then we win. And quite frankly, I like to win.

One last note. I do want to say that this “let them do what they want and we’ll do what we want” attitude is not all-encompassing. We still have a duty to try to fight for the things we believe in. We have a duty to vote, from an educated perspective, on the issues that govern us. That way if the vote doesn’t go our way we have the right to bitch about it. We have a duty as human beings to fight for the basic human rights of others. We may not believe in the institution of marriage, but we have a responsibility to fight for the right for same-sex marriages, because just as we get to make our choice not to marry, they should have the right to make their choice as to whether or not they want to marry. We have a global duty to fight for human rights across the planet – to push our local representatives to push our national representatives to push the world to fight for basic human rights for every person in every nation.

As long as we are in the system, regardless of whether or not our being “in” was ever by our choice, we must fight for what we believe in, at the very least for the basic human rights of everyone on the planet.

Other than that, do what is right for you, follow your heart and your personal belief system, and let those without sin cast the first stone.

– Lady Esq.

askLadyEsq.com