Day 261: it’s all connected, we’re all connected

On this 261st Day of Genocide in Gaza, I admit to being stunned that the carnage has not only not ceased, but has become increasingly depraved. I won’t go into details as the words and images are easily found due to IOF soldiers proudly documenting their depravity/lack of humanity on social media sites. To counteract the sadism, I decided to offer a poem by a Palestinian, and so went in search of something that resonated.

I landed on a poem by Mahmoud Darwish (1941-2008) who is “feted as Palestine’s national poet for his words expressing the longing of Palestinians deprived of their homeland, which was taken by Zionist militias to make way for present-day Israel. His poetry gave voice to the pain of Palestinians living as refugees and those under Israeli occupation for nearly a century.” And because this morning I began reading the Pulitzer Prize-winning Blood in the Water: The Attica Prison Uprising of 1971 and Its Legacy by Heather Ann Thompson, the Darwish poem I chose is “The Prison Cell.” Because just as the United States incarcerates more people than any country on earth (currently about 2 million people), Israel incarcerates thousands upon thousands of Palestinians and holds them without filing charges. It’s all connected. We’re all connected. And just as the incarcerated in the U.S. are treated as less-than and subjected to brutal conditions, so are the Palestinians. It doesn’t matter who we are or where we live on this planet: It’s all connected. We’re all connected.

In this spirit, I offer:

The Prison Cell
by Mahmoud Darwish
(Translated by Ben Bennani)

It is possible . . .
It is possible at least sometimes . . .
It is possible especially now
To ride a horse
Inside a prison cell
And run away . . .

It is possible for prison walls
To disappear,
For the cell to become a distant land
Without frontiers:

What did you do with the walls?
I gave them back to the rocks.
And what did you do with the ceiling?
I turned it into a saddle.
And your chain?
I turned it into a pencil.

The prison guard got angry.
He put an end to the dialogue.
He said he didn’t care for poetry,
And bolted the door of my cell.

He came back to see me
In the morning.
He shouted at me:

Where did all this water come from?
I brought it from the Nile.
And the trees?
From the orchards of Damascus.
And the music?
From my heartbeat.

The prison guard got mad.
He put an end to my dialogue.
He said he didn’t like my poetry,
And bolted the door of my cell.

But he returned in the evening:

Where did this moon come from?
From the nights of Baghdad.
And the wine?
From the vineyards of Algiers.
And this freedom?
From the chain you tied me with last night.

The prison guard grew so sad . . .
He begged me to give him back
His freedom.

—-

One final connection between Palestinians, the men in Attica in 1971, and me: this poster I unearthed in my basement yesterday, one I’d bought years ago (and possibly hung in my California classroom):

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s all connected. We’re all connected.

Climate Movement Monday: Summer of Heat campaign

Welcome back to another Movement Mondays in which we discuss all things climate and then typically take a quick action or two (today’s suggestions from Stop the Money Pipeline will be to donate, make a phone call, and send personalized emails) in support of frontline communities, those enduring the worst of the climate crisis.

With record-breaking heat happening around the country, along with a whole lot of wildfires currently burning, it could be said that every single one of us lives in a frontline community. Here’s today’s wildfire map from FIRMS US/CANADA (Fire Information for Resource Management System US/Canada):

Each of those orange flame icons represents a current wildfire. And it’s precisely for this reason that last week, Stop the Money Pipeline launched their Summer of Heat campaign (scroll down at link for details and lots of good info, including this):

The clock is ticking. That’s why during the Summer of Heat, we’re taking joyful, relentless nonviolent direct action to end fossil fuel financing. 

Wall Street is bankrolling the coal, oil and gas companies that are polluting our communities and killing our planet. But we’re going to stop them.

We’re going hard all summer long. Week after week. Month after month. We’re taking the party to the streets and we won’t stop.

The following comes from the Stop the Money Pipeline newsletter sent last night:
It’s been quite the first week here in New York. We organized civil disobedience actions at Citibank’s global headquarters four days in a row: On Monday we blockaded every entrance with 150+ people. On Tuesday, we did it with a giant pod of orcas. On Wednesday, it was the turn of the scientists, including Dr. Sandra Steingraber and Dr. Peter Kalmus. And on Thursday we blockaded the headquarters with 200+ elders and 50+ rocking chairs.

On Friday, we held a block party in the plaza outside the HQ and in the midst of it all, we also found the time to disrupt a speech by Citibank’s Head of Wealth Management, Andy Seig. In total, 144 people were arrested this week, demanding an end to the financing of fossil fuels.

As someone who was arrested and jailed for climate protest, I know the risks these folks are taking on our behalf (especially risky now during an ongoing pandemic in which New York’s governor, Kathy Hochul, is threatening a statewide mask ban). Alec Connon, co-director of Stop the Money Pipeline, said in that newsletter he was jailed twice last week! If you can spare a few dollars, please donate to the legal fund set up for the summer’s planned actions. Twelve weeks of actions will land an awful lot of people in jail because the powerful elites are working overtime to crush dissent as climate collapse worsens. Note: today’s article from independent journalists at The Lever is Big Oil’s Plan to Criminalize Pipeline Protestors.

The following also comes from last night’s Stop the Money Pipeline newsletter:

The stakes of the climate fight cannot be overestimated. Already, at less than 1.5°C of warming, half of the world’s coral reefs have collapsed and millions of children are being displaced by climate-driven extreme weather events every year. If we don’t stop burning fossil fuels in the coming years, it will get so much worse.

Given these stakes, it feels good to be a part of a campaign that at least feels close to being commensurate with the scale of the crisis.

I take heart, too, in knowing that history shows how effective sustained campaigns of civil disobedience can be. Indeed, many of most significant advances in social justice of the past 150 years ― from women’s suffrage to desegregation to the many gains won by organized labor ― owe less to subtle, “respectable” maneuvering than to the disruptive campaigns and groups that first made the issues impossible to ignore, and then forced decision-makers to act.

I believe that will be true of the fight to end fossil fuels, too―and that civil disobedience will play a key role in turning Wall Street against the fossil fuel industry.

As we take a breath and prepare for another week of civil disobedience actions, there are several ways that you can support the Summer of Heat campaign, wherever you are.

You can take a few minutes to call Citi’s CEOemail a dozen of their top executives, or call them out on social media. If you have the means to do so, you can also make a donation to the Summer of Heat campaign here. We’ll put every cent to good use.

And, of course, if you’re really eager to jump in, you can also look up where the closest Citi branch is to you and plan an action; or you could even start to plan your trip to New York. June 28th would be a very good day to be in town…

In Solidarity
– Alec Connon, Stop the Money Pipeline coalition co-director

PS: Interested in checking out the media from the first week of Summer of Heat? The pick of the bunch is here: Newsweek, the HillSalonDemocracy Now – WednesdayDemocracy Now – ThursdayBloombergABC7AM NYNPRCommon Dreams, and the NY Post

As I end here, I want to highlight the TikTok video of the orcas blockading Citibank on Tuesday. (Warning: profanities).

Thank you for being here and please know I appreciate your efforts on behalf of people and planet. Solidarity! ✊🏽

Sunday Confessional: the mundane soothes me

Zippy and I’ve lived in the same home for 28 years, the longest either of us has stayed in one place. We came here with two young children, two large dogs, and two cats. We needed/wanted space. Our sons now live their lives elsewhere and the household is just us plus one small dog and two cats. We no longer need all this house or the big yard.

I dream of living in a smaller dwelling. The problem is, I don’t know where I want to go. Should we stay in Colorado? Should we venture somewhere new? Can I find a location that doesn’t have extreme temperatures or mosquitoes? I’ve been pondering this a while, but those questions still bounce around my head unanswered. So, for the time being, we’re still here.

But! Last Sunday I set my eyes on the future and began taking steps. I started divesting of stuff, specifically Zippy’s stuff. Why his? Because I knew the keep-or-toss decisions would be easier. Our basement storage room contained about ten boxes he’d put down there when he lost his engineering job nearly nine years ago. The boxes were filled with technical books and files, things he’d used over the course of his career and planned to use again. Except he was never able to get another job and, as the years went by, the info contained in those boxes was no longer current. Keep-or-toss decisions would be a whiz!

As I shuttled boxes up to him, one at a time, Zippy decided what he wanted to keep and what could go. As he went through the minutiae, I took the discarded files and books to the garage where I began filling bins and then boxes with paper to be recycled. The files were easy to handle, the books a little harder. I experimented with an xacto knife and cut pages from book spines before realizing I preferred tearing out the pages. Zippy thought that approach was tedious and way too time-consuming, but I loved it. After I got into a rhythm, I felt my mind empty. My thoughts were no longer on Gaza or climate collapse or the pandemic or the peeling paint in the bathroom or the bindweed strangling my yarrow plants or the health issues facing various loved ones or the fact that I still hadn’t found anyone to deliver mulch for the backyard. All my focus was on reaching down with my right hand to gather a number of pages–not too many and not too few–and then tearing them along the spine in one smooth motion before dropping the pages into a neat pile in the box next to me and then reaching for more.

Photo by cottonbro studio at pexels.com (A Person Wearing White Long Sleeves Tearing the Pages of a Book while Soaking in the Lake)

I destroyed books and workbooks for most of the afternoon and not only felt a deep sense of peace, but also accomplishment. I was–FINALLY–kinda, sorta taking steps toward a move.

The next day, we drove our Subaru filled with all those bins and boxes of paper to the city recycling center where we unloaded my hours of labor. While I was dismayed to learn our paper had to go into the same roll-off that contained cereal boxes and egg cartons (degrading the paper quality), the sense of accomplishment rose up in me again. It wasn’t only the car that was lighter as we drove away.

We didn’t get through all the boxes last week and today we finished up. As Zippy sorted through his belongings, keeping some things and discarding others,  I returned to my post in the garage and began tearing pages from books. The same calm returned with each successful rrrriip.

I realize not everyone will resonate with this approach to mental health, but you might be surprised. Never in a million years thought these words would come from me but
I absolutely, with no reservations, recommend tearing pages from books!

Action needed: prioritize Palestinian refugees in U.S.

As you know, the United States is largely responsible for the genocide happening in Gaza right now. Tens of thousands dead, thousands more buried beneath rubble, and entire families wiped out by the U.S. bombs supplied to Israel. The reality is incredibly bleak. However, there’s an effort underway that could potentially save thousands of Palestinian lives, and that is to allow them to reunite with family members in the U.S.

This action info came to me via an email from MPOWER CHANGE:

Rep. Greg Casar, Sen. Dick Durbin, and Rep. Pramila Jayapal are leading a bicameral letter expressing strong support for a Priority-2 (P-2) designation under the U.S. Refugee Admissions Program (USRAP) for Palestinians in Gaza with family in the United States. The Biden administration is reportedly considering this policy change.1

Urge your U.S. Senators and Representative to sign on to the Casar-Durbin letter NOW:

Palestinians are so rarely granted U.S. refugee status that, of the over 60,000 refugees resettled in the United States in 2023, fewer than 0.1% were Palestinians.2

PLEASE take two minutes to personalize a letter to your representatives, demanding they ease some of the pain and suffering they’ve enabled by signing on to the Casar-Durbin letter.

Thank you in advance for your help. Solidarity! ✊🏽

  1. White House considers welcoming some Palestinians from war-torn Gaza as refugees,” CBS News, Apr. 30, 2024.
  2. Republicans want to ban Palestinian refugees from entering the U.S., but it’s already very hard for them to get in,” NBC News, Oct. 7, 2023

Olive Odyssey: olive oil from Palestine

Zippy is the chef of our household (while I fill the role of “grateful eater of all he prepares”), and when he decided his cooking was in need of some olive oil from Palestine, he placed an order with Olive Odyssey. Our olive oil arrived today!

But we didn’t only receive the bottle of olive oil. The package also contained an organic fabric bag and a post card with the above picture on the front and this message on the back:

It feels so good to hold that bottle in our hands and feel the connection with Palestinian farmers who lovingly care for their olive trees, land, and traditions. Shared humanity for the win!

eta: I just realized the bottle has other info, including that this olive oil is from farmer  Abed Al-salam Bargouti and that it was sourced from “Rumi olive trees nestled in the hills of Aboud village at the heart of Palestine’s Ramallah region.”

Poppies for Palestine

As I walked past my neighbor’s poppies today, my thoughts went to Gaza because the poppy is the national flower of Palestine.

June 10, 2024

I’m grateful for these poppies, glorious and resilient in the face of our frequent heavy winds, since mine tend to live very short lives. Every year, they’re here and then gone. But despite my poppy experience, poppies are seen as a symbol of resilience:

The poppy symbolizes the resilience and enduring spirit of the Palestinian people. This designation stems from the flower’s pervasive presence in the region and its poignant representation in various cultural and historical contexts.

The red of the poppy symbolises the blood of the martyrs within this land. The colors of the poppy also mirror the colors of the Palestinian flag with red, black, white and green.

The poppy’s vibrant red petals are often seen as a metaphor for the bloodshed and sacrifices endured in the ongoing struggle for freedom and self-determination. Its ability to thrive in adverse conditions mirrors the steadfastness and hope of the Palestinian people amidst their challenging circumstances. The choice of the poppy as a national symbol is a powerful testament to the collective memory, cultural identity, and the unyielding quest for peace and sovereignty in Palestine.

Today I post these poppies in solidarity with the people of Gaza. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.

Friday Haiku: on freedom of the press

religious school mob
attacks journalist
supremacist frenzy

Note: this happened on June 5 in occupied Jerusalem during the “Flag March.” Palestinian journalist Saif Al-Qawasmi was attacked, first by students of a religious school and then beaten by Israeli police. Journalist Nir Hasson tried to protect Qawasmi and was also beaten. Hasson, who works for the newspaper Haaretz, took this photo. Other images can be seen here.

When magpies sound the alarm, heed their calls

This morning as I did my daily “bed stretches,” it finally registered in my brain that the magpies were being unusually loud and persistent outside my window. I got up and looked out.

A fox!

I ran to the other end of the house to grab the camera from the dining room table, updating Zippy on the way. When we got back to the window, the magpies were still chastising the fox and I started taking photos through our screen. Unfortunately, the shutter clicks disturbed the fox (s/he turned to look directly at me), so I stopped.

But I texted my neighbor to let him know he had a visitor. He quietly stepped out onto his deck and the fox ran for the back fence where it leapt up onto the same section where a bobcat had sat nearly two years ago, and then disappeared on the other side. A beautiful gift from the universe! And a very, very nice way to begin the day.

Note to self: when you hear incessant magpie calls, investigate!

Climate Movement Monday: deadly heat in Gaza

Welcome back to another Movement Monday in which we talk about the climate crisis and the communities already getting hit the hardest. Today’s post focuses on the people of Gaza who have not only been under attack since October–thousands and thousands of bombs raining down on them no matter where they go–but have also been under siege in terms of deprivation of food, water, medical supplies, and humanitarian aid.  On top of all that, displaced Palestinians faced a record-breaking heatwave that pushed temperatures over 100 degrees as they huddled in tents that became deathly hot. This article from Climate Home News points out the disparity between how the Israelis’ in Tel Aviv and Gazans living in refugee camps handle high temperatures. Spoiler alert:  people in Tel Aviv stay in their air-conditioned homes or travel to the sea to sit under beach umbrellas while Gazans forced to live in nylon tents are losing their children to heat stroke. This week, the temperatures will “only” be in the upper 80s and low 90s, but if you’ve ever slept in a tent not shaded by trees, you know how unbearably hot it gets inside.

Boys carry water bottles in Gaza on May 28, 2024. (Photo: Naaman Omar)

Here’s an excerpt from the Climate Home News article:
The predicament of Gazans forced to endure sweltering conditions in ill-equipped tents is not an isolated problem. Across the world, climate change and war are forcing more and more people out of their homes and into makeshift camps. More than 75 million people are currently displaced inside their own countries – 50% more than five years ago.

Read that last line again: More than 75 million people are currently displaced inside their own countries – 50% more than five years ago

If you’re like me, reading something like that can tip you precariously close to despair. But we can also have a different response. We can read something that feels overwhelmingly bad and ask ourselves “what can I do here and now to effect change?” Today I’m going to share some links for ways in which we can help Gazans.

  • MUNICIPALITY OF GAZA is working toward the restoration of sewage treatment, waste management, and access to clean water which will cut down on waterborne illnesses.  You can donate HERE (any amount helps!) If you appreciated Refaat Alareer’s work I shared here (including “If I must die, let it be a tale”), please note that he also ran the social media account for the Municipality of Gaza (@munigaza).
  • GAZA FUNDS is a project that connects people to crowdfunding campaigns for individuals and families from Gaza. Each time the page is reloaded, a different campaign appears. While the rotation is randomized, campaigns for the sick/injured and campaigns close to meeting their goals are prioritized. We never want any of these campaigns to go stagnant, so we make sure to also prioritize fundraisers that haven’t had a donation in a while. As existing fundraisers meet their goals, they will be replaced with other fundraisers that need your help. You can donate HERE. I’ve seen people on Twitter highlighting their $5 donations to several campaigns with the knowledge that those contributions add up as well as give Palestinians the much-needed boost of knowing they haven’t been forgotten by the rest of the world. (more info re the Gaza Funds volunteers here). Also, I’m including the below graphics that offer additional ideas on how to help plus social media account info.

One last note to help make the connection between the United States and what’s happening in Gaza: On May 31, multiple water mains in Atlanta burst and people were/are under a boil water advisory. Many parts of the city are still without water. As I write this, it appears there’s still no clear communication on the water situation and many Atlanta residents are calling out Mayor Andre Dickens for attending a fundraiser on Friday AFTER THE FIRST PIPE BURST. The water infrastructure failure further highlights that the push to build Cop City in Atlanta to the tune of $100 million is the absolute wrong “public safety” initiative needed when the city can’t even provide citizens clean, safe water.

If you’ve read this far, thank you for being here! We’re facing incredibly difficult realities, but we’re much stronger together. Solidarity!✊🏽

Raising a middle finger to A.I.

After this morning’s writing session in which I sought refuge from our current reality by working (some more) on chapter 8 of my middle grade novel, I came here to check my WordPress dashboard. In my Contacts spam folder, was the following:
Edited to add this gem from another spammer on 6.5.24:
This state-of-the-art web app allows you to create captivating children’s books using advanced AI technology. It takes care of both the writing and illustration, and all you need to do is input your ideas (or let the app come up with the idea too, LOL). No writing or illustration skills needed!

“Pocketful of Warding Stones” by Rasha Abdulhadi

The following poem and image were published at Poetry Online (a nonprofit organization dedicated to sharing literature and art accessibly) on October 21, 2023.
Pocketful of Warding Stones by Rasha Abdulhadi
how much of the weight of time we carry
is the burden the murderers gave us,
and whose ends do we serve to hate
ourselves for not dying as easy as they wanted?
what firekeeper can scrape
the char of guilt from this burnt offering,
pull air over embers of grief & longing,
find some flint in the heart left to light?
how can we untie living grief from the longing
to have done more, and find instead what
more could yet by our breath be done?
we can hold ourselves, responsible yes,
refuse a rebellion captive or complicit
confess instead a broader bravery
on which to spend the coin of our lives.
we who untangle loss from creation by blowing it to bits—
why obscure grief, why hoard it or hide its face,
as if a siphon could drain an ocean, no—
let them hear the holes when we sing.
every death in war is a casualty, no matter the speed
or how exhausted, how unscaffolded the rebuilding.
i know a hurricane who reached through years and state lines
into lungs hearts and bowels, and snatched souls back to flood.
when the disaster of war or the war of disaster steals homes it steals lives,
and though it may take time to cash them, we know where the blame lies.
we ward against the guilt of war
the blistered blessing of surviving our kin, and
around the undefused bombs our bodies hide,
we build a larger house to live in.
though the house of sorrow be vast,
give grief her rooms to stalk through
let living longing paint the walls.
can we then deny guilt, that rent-free tenant,
the lease it seeks in the house of grief?
refuse them victory on this field at least:
our breathing belongs to us
and is not some shame we owe or stole,
or failed to lose like they wanted us to—
our bellows blow to break knees bent over any neck.
i won’t devolve the monument of my body
to the keeping of the state, won’t donate
the corpse of my dreaming
to service the desires of murderers
or their gracious paperwork proctors.
i won’t do the blamework for them.
our mothers have been here before, they know
there’s no antidote for the poisons sown in the fields of war
but i will refuse the death machine of the imagination any morsel more
at least in my heart, the war can’t have you, my friend—
and wherever the last domino of my body falls,
let me land as a gear-breaking wedge—
the murder wheel won’t win my shame.
i won’t let them kill me before i die
and i offer you the same.
——————————-
Rasha Abdulhadi is calling on you, dear reader, to join them in refusing and resisting the genocide of the Palestinian people. Wherever you are, whatever sand you can throw on the gears of genocide, do it now. If it’s a handful, throw it. If it’s a fingernail full, scrape it out and throw. Get in the way however you can. The elimination of the Palestinian people is not inevitable. We can refuse with our every breath and action. We must.

On this Memorial Day

Today, as neighbors fly their red-white-and-blue flags and the U.S. government-sponsored slaughter of Palestinians in Rafah reaches new levels of horror, my thoughts are on Aaron Bushnell who was a 25-year-old active serviceman (U.S. Air Force). On February 25, Bushnell self-immolated in front of the Israeli Embassy in Washington. D.C.

Before setting himself on fire, Bushnell said this“I will no longer be complicit in genocide. I’m about to engage in an extreme act of protest, but compared to what people have been experiencing in Palestine at the hands of their colonizers it’s not extreme at all. This is what our ruling class has decided will be normal.”  His final words were “Free Palestine.”

I wanted to highlight Aaron Bushnell today, in part, because I also want to highlight the reality of the U.S. military that recruits desperate people who see no other way to build a future for themselves. Levi Pierpont went through basic training with Aaron Bushnell and the two became friends. After a year-long process, Pierpont was released from the military as a conscientious objector in 2023. In this opinion piece published after Bushnell’s death, Pierpont wrote of the talks he’d had with fellow service-people about wanting to get out of the military before their contracts expired:

During the process, I had so many conversations with fellow military members, a great many of whom could relate to the way I felt. One member spoke frankly with me, admitting that she had serious concerns with supporting the military. However, faced with the high costs of medical care outside the military, she commented: “If I have to sell my soul to the devil to get my children healthcare, that’s what I have to do.” [emphasis mine].

Think about that: because the elites have decided we in the U.S. can’t have universal healthcare, young people are forced to make the excruciating decision to inflict violence on strangers around the world–literally blowing up men, women, and children–so that their own children will get the medical care they need.

According to Pierpont, there are also those in the military who are unable to carry the burden of their role in violence and destruction. The above paragraph ends with this:  “Others were considering taking their lives as the only way to escape, and had no hope that they could make it to the end of their contract.”

I wonder how many of those flying flags today think about the despair felt by military personnel. How many of those flag-wavers would support service members who’ve served this country and now want out after realizing that what they’re being forced to do is an affront to their consciences and souls? What exactly does it mean to “support our troops”?

Today I honor Aaron Bushnell who made his own excruciating decision to very publicly protest the U.S.’s role in the genocide in Gaza. To be very clear, that’s not a death I wanted for him or for any of us who feel so much anger and despair about the slaughter and destruction being carried out in our names. Instead, I want an end to U.S. imperialism and the military industrial complex so that corporations no longer get rich off death and destruction. I want an end to people being forced to commit violence because their own country treats them violently via not providing for their material needs such as food, housing, healthcare, and clean air/water. In the meanwhile, I made a donation in honor of Bushnell and Pierpont to the non-profit Center on Conscience & War that “advocates for the rights of conscience, opposes military conscription, and serves all conscientious objectors to war.”

Aaron Bushnell’s final Facebook post (since removed) said this:
“Many of us like to ask ourselves, “What would I do if I was alive during slavery? Or the Jim Crow South? Or apartheid? What would I do if my country was committing genocide?”

The answer is, you’re doing it. Right now.”

Rest in power, Aaron Bushnell.

********

Final note: In reading more about Aaron Bushnell, I learned about an earlier act of self-immolation in December 2023 by an unidentified woman holding a Palestinian flag in New York City. At the time of the article’s publication, the woman remained hospitalized in stable condition.

Drunk on writing

On a personal level, 2024 has brought an awful lot of pain and hardship to people I love, making these first five months feel like an entire year has already passed. And when I factor in the horrors of the U.S.–sponsored genocide of Palestinians, the emotional weight of these days is almost more than I can bear. But I’m now finding consistent refuge in my writing because I’ve made it a daily priority.

Rather than trying to cram a writing session into whatever slots I could find in my days and then saying oh-well if it didn’t happen, writing is now (again) part of my morning routine. As a result, I’ve been making slow progress on the second draft of my middle grade novel. I typically work for 60-90 minutes and that’s enough to keep me (mostly) centered for the rest of the day. That routine and commitment to my creativity keep me afloat, although some days I look and feel like this disheveled Northern Shoveler.

Lake Hasty. April 2, 2024

As Ray Bradbury said, You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.

Climate Movement Monday: FEMA, Puerto Rico, and renewable energy

Welcome back to Movement Mondays in which we discuss climate-related issues. Typically, I highlight a frontline community (people/place that’s bearing the worst effects of climate change) and then offer a quick action you can take on their behalf. Today I won’t ask you to take action and am, instead, merely offering info that triggered an aha moment when I read it. I’m all about sharing the aha wealth! 🙂

I considered myself fairly well-versed in the many ways that climate change is connected to various aspects of our lives. For instance, our physical and mental health, infrastructure, insurance premiums, poverty, racism, food, supply chains, etc. There’s really no escaping climate change’s many tentacles . But for all that awareness, I somehow never considered that the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) might play a major role in the continuation and acceleration of the climate crisis. I mean, FEMA’s job is to help people in the aftermath of disasters, so why would that agency take actions that ensure more climate-related disasters? Well, Center for Biological Diversity and a slew of other groups (energy justice , consumer and environmental) are suing FEMA for doing that very thing. From their May 2 press release:

Energy justice, consumer and environmental groups sued the Federal Emergency Management Agency and the Department of Housing and Urban Development today for withholding public records and failing to outline plans to use resilient renewable energy to rebuild communities ravaged by the climate emergency.

The groups also formally petitioned the agencies to craft new regulations to redirect taxpayer dollars these agencies are spending to prop up fossil fuels — the primary driver of human-caused climate change — toward distributed renewable energy recovery and mitigation projects. FEMA spent more than $14 billion last year in states across the country pummeled by floods, fires, hurricanes and other weather-related disasters made worse by burning oil, gas and coal.

The press release goes on to cite a 2018 congressional requirement that demands a definition of “resiliency” that could determine how much FEMA funding goes to environmental justice communities. When I read that, I realized how often “resilient” is thrown around (including by my own city’s “sustainability plan”) and how that term has become nearly meaningless in climate discourse. Because I’ve never asked my city to definite “resiliency,” I don’t even know if they have parameters or whether it’s just a feel-good word used to lull us into a false sense that something’s being done. My bet is on the latter.

I highly recommend reading the entire press release that also includes this reference to the Department of Housing and Urban Development: HUD also spends billions annually on public and assisted housing, further propping up the fossil-fuel economy, without significant effort to encourage the use of renewable energy.

I’m embarrassed to say I never thought about HUD being a willing accomplice in the climate crisis, either.

The press release ends with this: The proposed rules would redirect these funds, requiring that whenever the agencies provide energy funding, they prioritize efficiency and other demand reductions, zero-carbon technologies like rooftop solar and storage, and electric options for home heating and cooking rather than fossil gas.

After reading the press release, I went in search of more info and came across this excellent analysis of the lawsuit that highlights the disaster response in Puerto Rico: Lawsuit Challenges FEMA Funding to Rebuild Puerto Rico’s Fossil Fuel-Reliant Power Grid. The summary paragraph reads: Conservation and community groups filed a lawsuit today against the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) and the U.S. Department of Homeland Security over their plans to rebuild Puerto Rico’s centralized power grid from the return to the status quo of fossil fuels instead of investing in the distributed renewable energy that Puerto Ricans need.

Catano, Puerto Rico, on Sept. 21, 2017.      Hector Retamal / AFP – Getty Images file

The entirety of Puerto Rico is a frontline community in the climate crisis! The United States colonized Puerto Rico in 1898, exploiting the people and land ever since. The analysis includes this: Five years after Hurricane Maria devastated Puerto Rico, causing thousands of deaths and decimating the archipelago’s already fragile electrical grid, FEMA is planning to finally spend funds intended to alleviate the consequences of natural disasters in making permanent repairs to the network. However, the agency plans to invest at least $12 billion in projects that lock Puerto Ricans into dependence on fossil fuels. The FEMA project conflicts with the Puerto Rico Law of 2019 that establishes the goal of basing 100% of energy production on renewable sources by 2050 and Puerto Rico’s energy plan based on the production and storage of solar energy.  

$12 billion is a HUGE investment in fossil fuels and, frankly, it’s grotesque that those billions would be used to prop up the very industry that caused Hurricane Maria. Why would FEMA do that, especially when Puerto Rico could generate enough renewable energy for its own needs? Well, perhaps it has something to do with this (from that same analysis): In 2021, Luma Energy, a private American-Canadian corporation, assumed control of the archipelago’s public distribution system. LUMA will be a major recipient of FEMA disaster recovery and mitigation funds. In January, Genera PR, a subsidiary of US liquefied natural gas company New Fortress Energy, was awarded a contract to take over power generation in Puerto Rico.

I haven’t done the research on this, but it’s fairly easy to surmise that politicians receive money from fossil fuel lobbyists and then pressure these agencies to grant funds to fossil fuel companies. Again, completely grotesque and also another example of how our government’s policies are solely driven by special interests.

My intention in posting all this is not to (further) demoralize anyone, but to shine light on what’s happening. We’re better positioned to call B.S. and fight back when we understand the intricacies of exploitation.

If you’ve read this far, thank you for being here with me. Solidarity with you, Puerto Rico, and frontline communities around the globe! ✊🏽

Friday Haiku: on democracy

try to guess the crime
protesting a genocide
state-sponsored terror

OR (because I’m all about revision)
criminalizing
protest against genocide
state-sponsored terror

Please add your own haiku in the comments (and feel free to revise)!

NOTE: The caption beneath that photo in Los Angeles Times: Hundreds of law enforcement personnel descended on UC Irvine to move hundreds of pro-Palestinian students, faculty and supporters protesting the UC system’s investments in Israel. (Robert Gauthier / Los Angeles Times)

On this Nakba Day

Today is Nakba Day. What is Nakba Day? A Brief History 

There are many, many heartbreaking stories of what Palestinians endured as a result of that ethnic cleansing and displacement. One of the faculty members who spoke at the Auraria Campus encampment commencement ceremony on Sunday told us of their father and grandparents’ Nakba experience in which they walked to Syria, only to be told they weren’t welcome, then walked to Lebanon where they were forbidden entrance, and finally ended up in Nazareth. According to the speaker, their father refused to accept life as a “refugee” and later came to the U.S.

Image from Wikimedia Commons

These stories are painful and filled with heartache and injustice, but we cannot pretend Nakba didn’t happen (or that it isn’t playing out again right now). Many in the Jewish community refuse to stay silent and are in solidarity with Palestinians. The following email came this morning from If Not Now and, in the final paragraph, has links to further resources about the Nakba, along with a link for Gaza donations:

Today we mark 76 years since the Nakba, or catastrophe, when over 750,000 Palestinians were ethnically cleansed from their homes and countless villages were wiped off the map during the establishment of the State of Israel. The Israeli government has continued the Nakba by carrying out a policy of land expropriation and deprivation of Palestinians’ fundamental rights from 1948 through today.

As we bear witness to the continuation of the Nakba over the decades, we recognize the chilling parallels between 1948 and today’s catastrophe in Gaza, as the Israeli military slaughters tens of thousands of Palestinians and forces over a million people from their homes – the largest displacement of Palestinians since 1948. 

This history — together with our history as Jews of facing ethnic cleansing and mass slaughter — compels us to call for an end to the Israeli military’s genocidal assault on Gaza and to work towards an equal, just, and thriving future for all Palestinians and Israelis, free from ethnic cleansing, violence, apartheid, and oppression that reckons with and addresses the Nakba and other injustices.

You can listen to the stories of Palestinians who lived through the Nakba at the Nakba Archive. Learn more about the history and its consequences at Zochrot. Follow, amplify, and contribute to @gazafunds on Twitter/X.

In Solidarity,
Em, IfNotNow

It’s Tracy again. If you’ve read this far, thank you.
Free Palestine!

On this Mother’s Day

Just got home from the Auraria Campus solidarity encampment in Denver. Students have been camping on the Tivoli Quad for, I believe, 18 days now. Despite serious fear-mongering from ace reporter Jim Hooley, Zippy and I saw no signs of weaponry or human waste today.

What we did see was lots of love and admiration for the approximately 20 young people from the encampment who received diplomas during “The People’s Graduation.” We heard from one of those graduates who was introduced as an organizing wizard (in just six hours, they organized three actions that spanned twelve hours) and  also heard from faculty members who are in solidarity with the students. As always, the speeches at these pro-Palestine gatherings brought tears while also filling my heart with love and hope.

It was a wonderful way to spend this Mother’s Day and it felt very fitting that the rainy, overcast skies cleared, allowing the sun to shine down on the events. I’ll leave you with this poem shared by one of the speakers.

Solidarity on behalf of all children!

Hope and grief can coexist

I don’t know about you, but it’s increasingly difficult for me to get out of bed in the morning. So far, I’ve been able to rally my energy rather than remain curled in the fetal position with the covers pulled over my head, but today I feel the need to return to one of my favorite resources, LET THIS RADICALIZE YOU (mentioned earlier here).

Sandhill Cranes from March 11, 2024, here representing Hope and Grief

The wise Kelly Hayes and Mariame Kaba wrote a chapter titled “Hope and Grief Can Coexist” which is filled with wisdom from their decades of organizing. The following was written in conjunction with paragraphs about climate collapse, but also applies to our broader experience (emphasis mine):

We feel deeply for those who are suffering and for the young people who have inherited this era of catastrophe. We share in their heartbreak and fury.

We also know this: hope and grief can coexist, and if we wish to transform the world, we must learn to hold and to process both simultaneously. That process will, as ever, involve reaching for community.

In a society where fellowship and connection are so lacking, where isolation and loneliness abound, we are often ill equipped to process grief. [   ]  Grief can also lead us to retreat and recoil and, too often, to abandon people to suffer in ways that we cannot bear to process and behold. 

. . . we, as people, do have power. Depending on our choices, we can turn away from injustice and let it continue, or we can confront our grief and move forward to shift the course of societal action in the face of a massive failure of leadership and institutional abandonment. Grief, after all, is a manifestation of love, and our capacity to grieve is in some ways proportional to our capacity to care. Grief is painful, but when we process our grief in community, we are less likely to slip into despair.

Personally, it helps to view my grief as a manifestation of love, maybe because it’s a reminder of my sense of humanity and connection to others, which makes the pain feel almost welcome. Maybe this perspective does the same for you. Later in the chapter, Hayes and Kaba write:

When we talk about hope in these times, we are not prescribing optimism. Rather, we are talking about a practice and a discipline–what Joanna Macy and Chris Johnstone have termed “Active Hope.” As Macy and Johnstone write,

Active Hope is a practice. Like tai chi or gardening, it is something we do rather than have. It is a process we can apply to any situation, and it involves three key steps. First, we take a clear view of reality; second, we identify what we hope for in terms of the direction we’d like to see expressed; and third, we take steps to move ourselves or our situation in that direction. Since Active Hope doesn’t require our optimism, we can apply it even in areas where we feel hopeless. The guiding impetus is intention; we choose what we aim to bring about, act for, or express. Rather than weighing our chances and proceeding only when we feel hopeful, we focus on our intention and let it be our guide.

Hayes and Kaba continue: This practice of hope allows us to remain creative and strategic. It does not require us to deny the severity of our situation or detract from our practice of grief. To practice active hope, we do not need to believe that everything will work out in the end. We need only decide who we are choosing to be and how we are choosing to function in relation to the outcome we desire and abide by what those decisions demand of us.

This practice of hope does not guarantee any victories against long odds, but it does make those victories more possible. Hope, therefore, is not only a source of comfort to the afflicted but also a strategic imperative.

Whew. Just typing out those words helped center me in my grief and to feel those stirrings of hope all over again. My wish is that they do the same for you. Solidarity, friends!

Climate Movement Mondays: on crushing dissent

It’s another Movement Monday post in which we discuss climate-related issues. Typically, I highlight a frontline community–those facing the worst effects of the climate crisis–and then offer a quick action you can take on behalf of people and planet. Today’s post is a bit different and is intended to educate regarding the considerable efforts being made to crush dissent, whether it’s climate protest, pro-Palestine protest, or protest aimed at police brutality. Long story short: the powers that be want us to remain docile and accepting of the many injustices inflicted on people and the environment, and they do not take well to organized protest.

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

Last week, I wrote about student protest and authoritarianism. We’ve all seen the images of heavily militarized police coming onto campuses to attack and arrest students for daring to, among other things, demand their tuition money not be invested in the manufacture of weapons used in the ongoing genocide of Palestinians. Here’s a video of Virginia State Police threatening UVA students on May 4th, the anniversary of the four students murdered by the National Guard on the Kent State campus in 1970. Over and over again, students are being threatened and brutalized by the police. (edited to add: Oddly enough, the police didn’t intervene at UCLA when pro-Palestinian students were literally being attacked and beaten by Zionists.)

It hasn’t escaped these young people’s attention that the same police who stood outside as children were being slaughtered in a classroom are all too willing to don riot gear to wade into crowds of unarmed people who’ve gathered on behalf of an oppressed people. In Texas, students chanted “You failed Uvalde.” Also? A week ago yesterday, white supremacists were allowed to march in Charleston, West Virginia. Where were the police and their riot gear?

The willingness to send heavily armed police onto campuses is just one facet of what’s happening in this country in anticipation of rising unrest due to climate collapse, income inequality, nonstop wars, broken supply chains, etc. There are many other signs pointing to how any one of us will be treated in the near future if we dare voice opposition to the status quo.

On May 3 (as police continued to brutalize students and faculty), Biden put out a statement renewing his pleas for Congressional support for his “Safer America Plan.” Biden wants “Congress to invest $37 billion to support law enforcement and crime prevention, including by funding 100,000 additional police officers…” We don’t have universal healthcare and are not at all prepared for the ravages of climate collapse, but there’s always money/support for more cops! But this is who Biden’s always been; in the 90s he joined forces with segregationist Strom Thurmond to sponsor and pass the “Violent Crime Control Act” and in  2022, Biden used his state of the union speech to encourage the use of $350 billion in COVID recovery funds to hire more police.

I’ve written about Cop City in Atlanta multiple times and highly recommend also reading my post that connects the dots between civic actions, protest, militarized police response, and trumped up charges of terrorism that result in RICO charges. You might wonder why we should care about Atlanta. Well, guess what? The proposed urban warfare training center in Atlanta is just one of 69 proposed cop training centers in the country. Go here for an interactive map showing the status of proposed sites around the U.S.

There’s more oppression on the horizon. From Truthout: In April, the House of Representatives passed HR 6408 by a vote of 382-11. This legislation would grant the secretary of the treasury broad power to designate any charity as a “terrorist supporting organization” and remove its tax-exempt status within 90 days. The Senate introduced its companion measure, S 4136, shortly after. While that article primarily focuses on pro-Palestinian organizations, climate journalists and activists have pointed out this legislation would also make it very easy to target climate nonprofits (and any other organization that threatens the status quo). This legislation is even more alarming with the knowledge there’s a very real chance Trump will get another four years in the White House. Somehow, the Dems and Republicans always find a way to come together in order to oppress the people.

For no particular reason, ahem, I want to link to this earlier post about the U.S. government’s decade-long campaign against the anti-pipeline movement.

And one last note on our current reality: the United States incarcerates more people than any other country in the world. Two million people are in jail or prison. Prison Policy Initiative breaks it down here with easy to read graphs and info.

Finally, I have a book to recommend: NO MORE POLICE: A CASE FOR ABOLITION by Mariame Kaba and Andrea J. Ritchie.

If you’ve read this far, give yourself a cookie! I appreciate you taking the time to wade into all this information. It’s a lot, but it’s important we know what’s happening. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this so please talk to me in the comments. Solidarity! ✊🏽