It's a Little Bit of Everything

Recently I was honored by Humboldt State University for being an author in their annual celebration of the Author's Hall, a little chunk of shelf space set aside for people associated with the university and the books they have either authored or been published in. My recognition was all due to my good friend Ryan Sendejas, who bought a copy of the poetry collection I was published in and donated to the university for all to read. Thanks Ryan. During that celebration, which included vegan chocolate cake (to die for) and an introduction by the university president Lisa Rossbacher, I was fortunate enough to hear a publisher talk about why he loves to publish. I'm paraphrasing here, but the man said something along the lines of, "In a time where the brashest voices are often the loudest, I love to publish people who are saying and doing amazingly wonderful things, so that their voices might be heard among the rest". His outlook inspired me. It filled me with hope, but it also instilled in me a little patience. Patience because his perspective is one that recognizes the dynamics of power and influence and how slow change is. He is right, we do live in a time where voices of cynicism and prejudice reign triumphant, yet it is only because avenues for the uplifting voices are not as prominent. The resistant voices which counter the relentlessly brash voices are present, they simply aren't amplified enough.

 

I also recently went to a cartography symposium at Portland State University with a good friend and promising young mapmaker, Nathaniel Douglass. The keynote speaker at the symposium was a man by the name of Aaron Draplin, a graphic designer based out of Portland that has done a diverse range of logo designs from his nephew’s birthday parties to presidential platforms. I really loved what he had to say about positive messaging. Like the tone of Joyful Militancy, Draplin encouraged all people involved in visual outreach, whether it be cartographers, graphic designers, or painters, to utilize love and compassion to fight our enemies rather than hatred or slander. That is something I can stand behind. During a job Draplin did that was politically anti-trump, instead of mocking his hairpiece by doing a silhouette of it, he created designs intended to spread ideas of peace and love. He did this because, to him, to counter brashness with more brashness, begets hyper-brashness.

 

This past week in our ENST Capstone course we read essays from the book The Impossible Will Take a Little While. In this book the author Danusha Goska wrote about the seemingly trivial things in life that help her to avoid feeling burnout in her strive for a better world. While talking about a neighbor that helped her one day, she writes, "He didn’t hand me the thousand dollars I needed for surgery. He didn’t take me in and empty my puke bucket. He just gave me one ride, one day. I am still grateful to him and touched by his gesture. I’d lived in the neighborhood for years, and so far, he has been the only one to stop” (Loeb pg.61). This reminded of a song by Dawes called “A Little Bit of Everything”. One line of this song, I believe, encompasses the perspectives envisioned by the readings and my experiences currently in life. The line says, "Oh, it's a little bit of everything, it's the mountains, it's the fog, it's the news at six o'clock, it's the death of my first dog. It's the angels up above me, it's the song that they don't sing, it's a little bit of everything." For some reason I can’t quite explain, that line summarizes how all these small things add up to something big, something meaningful and powerful that gets us all through the hardest times.

Loeb, Paul Rogat. The Impossible Will Take a Little While: Perseverance and Hope in Troubled Times. Basic Books, a Member of the Perseus Books Group, 2014.                         

 

Quietism

The Impossible Will Take a While

The essay that I enjoyed reading the most for this week, from the book The impossible Will Take a While, was The Small Work in the Great Work by Victoria Safford. The following quote made me reflect on some questions I have been asking myself lately in regards to how social change happens: “To march was dangerous. It still is. Not to march was dangerous-it still is now, and more so; let there be no question. This is no time for quietism”(225). This makes me think about all the people including myself that passionately talk about social change but yet we are still doing it within the institution. We still hope to make money through the capitalist system and even if it's for a good cause we are still helping to up hold it. We are still in the ivory tower. We are not marching. I hate having to deal with these contradictions constantly. I hate being in the ivory tower. Academia is problematic, contradictory and dangerous. We are constantly trying to negotiate with ourselves and colleagues about why the work we are doing is still deemed as appropriate even though we see how problematic it is. The quote stated previously sees social change as black and white, either you march or you don't. But would the author see the work that is being done within academia as marching even if it is deconstructing some systems of oppression while upholding others? Or would this be the “quietism” that was mentioned at the end of the quote?

The Impossible Will Take a Little While

We are reading “The Impossible Will Take a Little While” in Environmental Studies, a collection of essays written by writers from all walks of life who write about facing feelings of powerlessness, and finding virtue and hope in humanity. A common theme in these stories is hope, something we need to keep burning strong in the environmental movement. These readings are a switch in the narratives we usually read in ENST that leave us feeling powerless. In Sherman Alexie’s essay “Do Not Go Gentle”, he finds compassion for others who have been masked by Mr. Grief as they too fear the loss of their children and this suddenly fuels Alexie to funnel hope and positive energy in light of a depressing circumstance. Transforming a sex toy into a magical healing wand, Alexie finds hope that his child will live through “chocolate thunder” and his child is brought back to health. Victoria Safford talks about solar ethics, meaning “to commit to living as the very sun itself lives, that is, to do what you were created to do, to shine and shine without regard for recognition or permanence or reward, to love and simply be for the sake of loving and living and being.” (p.225) from the “Small Work in the Great Work”. This is a beautiful analogy and reminder to just live as the sun lives. To live in harmony with all the people, critters, and plants on this planet we share. The concept of solar ethics resonates with me strongly. In the essay “Political Paralysis”, Danusha Veronica Goska writes about the illness she lives with, Perilymph fistula, and how it literally paralyzes her body. Some days she is physically paralyzed and cannot move, but on others she is moving and can do anything. She hears another woman at a spirituality and ecology conference express that she is powerless because she is only one person and what difference could she possibly make? Danusha responds that “the problem is not that we have so little power. The problem is that we don’t use the power that we have” (p.61). Danusha talks about acts of kindness she experienced in her life from people who “had no power”. To be virtuous is most often associated with celebrities or people who have received honor and recognition for doing good in the world. This can disempower others that they too can be virtuous everyday in their daily actions. But virtue is not about recognition. It is something to do and live out. The connection between virtue and solar ethics is to simply do what is right everyday without acknowledgement because that is our purpose in life. The sun does not require recognition and yet without the sun we would not be alive. To live as the sun lives...

The Power Of Virtue

Within the past year of my life I have really become focused on being the best person I can possibly be. This has been inspired by a number of people that I have adopted as role models in my life. I have talked about some of these people before so I won't go into it now, but some of the readings this week really highlighted this theme again for me.

Danusha Goska really highlighted the fact that our value as humans does not necessarily come from the work we do in the world, we are not meant to change the world in 30 days. However, the work that we do does represent the lives we live and the people we are. We are all individual agents of change, and that change can either happen on the large scale or the small scale. Sharing some food, some kind words and a laugh with your neighbor who could really use those things is equally, if not more valuable than donating $500 to an anonymous charity you have no connection too. Virtue comes from the heart and should be expressed genuinely. This is without qualifications, without restrictions, and without expectations. Live and act in the world as the best person you can be and you will see the world change around you, and that is all we can hope and strive for in these turbulent times of change.

Little and Big Battles

Throughout a variety of classes, I have encountered the conundrum and conflict surrounding individualized efforts towards environmental and social change. Often I find people completely convinced that small and frequently unnoticed gestures are meaningless against colossal problems, thus they choose not to participate in the smallest of mitigative moments. This problem is most perfectly bundled in the efforts of recycling. Many people are unconvinced by the impact that recycling has in regards to waste management. Sure recycling isn't going to save the world, but haven't we moved passed making that our sole purpose in life anyways? Can we pick our big battle, and also utilize small and frequently unnoticed gestures to contribute to environmental and social change?  

In The Impossible Will Take A Little While, Danusha Veronica Goska seems to critique the mentality of those who dismiss small actions, stating "It's not enough to recycle our soda cans; we must Stop Global Warming Now. Since we can't Stop Global Warming Now, we may as well not recycle our soda cans. It's not enough to be our best selves, we have to be Ghandi. And yet when we study the biographies of our heroes, we learn that they spent years in preparation doing tiny, decent things before one historical moment propelled them to center stage" (pg 64). Sure redeveloping our waste production and disposal system is the solution that is necessary for waste reduction, but that's a big battle for someone else, and I have already found a big battle that is meaningful to me. So while I prepare to graduate and enter my big battle, I'm going to keep utilizing my small individual actions as I see fit to fight the little battles.

Agency Through Hope

I wanted to start off the post with a quote from an author that really encapsulates the themes of the readings assigned this week:

“To live is to wrestle with despair yet never to allow despair to have the last word.” - Cornel West

Despair comes in many forms and is pervasive at some point in each of our lives. To some this despair comes in the form of grief. This was the case in Sherman Alexie’s “Do Not Go Gentle” who aply personifies grief as Mr. Grief throughout this short story. The story involves thier son, who, after an accident falls into a deep coma. Sherman describe many battles he had to endure with Mr. Grief while his son fought to regain his consciousness. Though through all this he remained focused on being there and supporting his son. When Sherman leaves the hospital to find his son a toy he mistakes a sex toy shop for a kids toy store. Though determined not to come back empty handed, he ends up finding a giant dildo called “Chocolate Thunder”. Sanding at 15inches, Sherman clutched Chocolate Thunder and though its seemed absured brought it back to the hospital and started to “cast spells” over his baby and others sick babies in the hospital. This one small (or in chocolate thunders not-so-small case) action completely shifted how Sherman and others present in the hospital felt. The mood changed from utter despair to a more upbeat and arguably hopefull outlook for the concerned families. 

This is what many of the authors are arguing that must do in the face of despair. Not to run around and cast spells with a giant dildo but to rather to seek out and practice hope. For, “hope can keep us sane - and preserve the decency and dignity requisite to revitalize our organizational energy for the work to be done.” - Cornel West. It is important, West would argue, not to confuse hope with optimism. Hope requires that we act and use our own personal agency, no matter how small, to enact change that are destined to have profound ripple effects. Like how Sherman’s outlandish behavior with chocolate thunders sent ripples of happiness and hope to others thoughout the hospital that day. Optimisim on the other hand requires no input whatsoever. To practice optimisim without hope is to live life on the sidelines. Sometimes being optimistic requires ignoring the unwanted evidence or just outright denial. Though, I do agree with West in that, to live a fulfilling and rewarding life we must build our life on a foundation of serving others. With a goal to leave the earth in a better state than you found it. And when you come across seemingly insurmountable problems and are struck with grief and despair remember:

“The problem is not that we have so little power. The problem is that we don’t use the power that we have.” - Darusha Veronica Goska

Hounds of Foggy Knotion

The hounds of foggy knowtion crept up on me this past week or three, i lost count of time. They kept babbling and rambling about some shit that I didn't really care to hear. Told me, told me, told me;

This weeks readings were reminders of the underlying theme packaged within capstone--affect. With stories talking about the power we each hold, to the need for shenanigans via wielding a large dildo like He-man.

I can picture it now...a hospital with sad folks all around, gazing in wonderment and disbelief at chocolate thunder's vibrating field. Who says chocolate isn't therapy?

Thunder, hoooo!





How do I envision affect? Is it through research that may aid activists, lawyers, or citizens in precedent setting (giving affirmation of what they’re working towards), working with building--community gardens, “green” structures via appropriate technology-- or am I looking to work with some group dealing in artivist methods? Whatever it is, I’m not sure I should be too worried over not figuring out exactly what that is, yet. I thought I found what my niche is, but I'm finding the passion for it slowly dissipating--transmuting into something I can't quite identify.

So, I'm back to square one-ish, right? Because I followed something, failed, didn't realize my full potential, so I have no joy (Spinoza). Mmmhh..I'm slowly realizing, and remembering from readings like Militant Joy and conversations with folks, that failure is the sign towards succession; non-stagnation due to fear; uncertainties from stepping out of the comfort zone; grumbling like a bear after hibernation because I can't illustrate as good as they do, because I can't think and organize like they do, because I'm not as sociable or knowledgeable as they are.

Danusha Goska phrases this another way, putting forth that "[t]he problem is not that we have so little power. The problem is that we don't use the power that we have. Why do we deny that power? Why do we not honor what we can do?" (62). My conclusion is our fear to fail. But who am I to speak for others? In relation to me, I smell the stagnant air, and I know there needs to be some shaking. If not, I would be living "half dead" (225) as Victoria Safford proclaims about this daring to do. Fucking up the quotation sandwiches, because I think too much gluten can be a problem, the work I'm aiming to do doesn't need to be planned each step; if "we look closely at jazz, or the blues...it responds to an improvisational, undogmatic, creative way to circumstances, helping people still survive and thrive" (West 344).

ComRADes

A little over a month ago we were assigned readings from the book
"The Impossible Will Take a Little While" and true to form my post about it has also.... taken a little while. The book is a compilation of short stories from a collection of authors telling of personal struggles. The stories range vastly in subject matter some totally bizarre and others poignant but every one challenging the reader to reassess the definition of hope in situations without chance of positive outcome. What does that mean? What would you hope for if there was no chance of positive outcome? Does hope stop being hope and become something else? For instance, Sherman Alexie’s essay “Do Not Go Gentle” and Danusha Veronica Goska’s Political Paralysis” both tell stories of such instances. Alexie’s essay follows his experience during the days after the birth of his newborn as he feared his child might not survive. Despite the circumstances, Alexie uses his wild sense of humor to erect a moment of elation in the hospital. Creating a moment of shared joy with the parents he had until that point shared suffering with.

What can be derived from this story is an example of defiant acts of resistance and a will to fan the flickers of joy in moments that are void of reason to feel it. What else can be found is a sense of compassion and comradery that, I believe hides deep in the foundation of society but is rooted in us all ready to flourish out of us when it is needed most. An excerpt from Pablo Neruda’s essay in the book describes such a thing, “But to feel the affection that comes from those whom we do not know, from those unknown to us, who are watching over our sleep and solitude, over our dangers and our weaknesses--that is something still greater and more beautiful because it widens out the boundaries of our being and unites all living things.” “humanity is somehow together” (Loeb 168).

I am not alone when I express that I often feel the state of the world is a situation that may not have a positive outcome. That is indeed a possibility that we, ENST majors, lament over at great length. However, the type of togetherness Neruda describes above is the togetherness I think Alexie felt with the other parents and what I have felt with my ENST cohort. This togetherness is a bond, a comradery, that despite my own personal doubts fuels an ember of hope inside of me. Something about knowing we stand together makes the impossible seem possible (even if it may take a little while).