Gifts

Pretty early on this year we had a conversation in the house about support networks. This came on the heels of our anti-racism training and our discussion of our own white privilege. We were noting that there are things we can't give up - we can't make a sea change of how the TSA treats us based on our whiteness, we can't change our educational history based on white privilege- and some we can. I was challenged in a training once to consider giving up any inheritance I might receive, for example. Which brings us to our safety nets.

I'm not gonna lie: I have a wide safety net- I'm not in debt, I have parents who can help me if I need it, I have a warm and welcoming church community at St. Paul Ref who loves to support us even when not asked. And oh, do they do so when not asked. We're invited to dinner, to the Renaissance Festival, to take leftovers with us after every event the church has ever hosted. I've been given bags of "extra" groceries purchased "accidentally" completely unprompted. When I volunteer at Women's Advocates, the ladies of the housekeeping and kitchen staff pack me a bag lunch to take home afterwards.

Anyway, our conversation: this year we are, in theory, living simply. Part of the LVC experience is deciding what that means as individuals and as an intentional community. For me, it means trying my best to live within the stipend provided by LVC. Back in August we were questioning how our support networks play into that- the LSC, our families, our new friends. Simplicity doesn't, to me, mean that I should let my relationship with my family slide, so I choose to fly home to Rochester. When I'm very careful and allow myself to spend from future paychecks, it can be economically sustainable. You know, if I'm feeling free and loose with my definition of "sustainability" that day.

home to Rochester! this is seriously the only picture of the front of my house that I can find. aw, cute hamilton sisters!

I make exceptions. Where should I draw the line?

I don't know. I don't really know how different accepting plane fare from Dad is from not paying as much for groceries because we have leftover potatoes from SPR. It's not a way that people can live long term. It's just not sustainable. Any claims I make of doing a good job of living on my food stipend when I'm sharing the generosity of my larger community would ooze of ignorance and privilege.

So where does that leave my practice of simplicity and sustainability?

I don't know but hopefully it leaves Renaissance Fair in play because I am all about this elephant

After the Minnesotans United for All Families Faith Kick Off Pastor Anita and her partner Janelle gave me and Jamie rides home. On my way back with Janelle we stopped to pick up a gallon of milk for Beth Shalom and when we got to the check-out line, Janelle insisted on paying. I told her about the fact that people keep trying to give us things, and her response was, "People want to take part in what you're doing. This is how we can share in your experience."

There's some pop psychology out there about love languages, one of which is supposed to be showing love by giving gifts. I don't know how these gifts fit into the mold of simplicity or sustainability, but if I look at them as a symbol of love, it's hard to refuse them. I want to learn this year to treat others with more grace than I've been known for in the past, and that might need to start with replacing "I really couldn't," with "thank you."

It's coming.

All right, y'all. I am going to lay down some Second Year Wisdom, so gather round and listen closely:

We have entered Plague Season.

 

i swear this is not an exaggeration.
from infiniteunknown.net

 

 My boss at summer camp used to call this the Creeping Crud. While the Creeping Crud has been reduced to myth since the installation of Hard Core Alcohol Based Hand Sanitizer, it used to be a staple of summer life for staff. By Week Three, our fourteen hour days started to wear us down en masse, and someone would get sick. Because counselors love their jobs, they would keep working anyway. While contagious. And someone else would get sick. Pretty soon we're all wiped out, sniffling and exhausted.

 

and stuck in this cabin pre-renovation so as to not spread diseases to children. it was less idyllic then. more filled with mice.
from lclcenter.org

 

We're into the fall now, and while we've completed the honeymoon phase of LVC in which we all run around doing everything at once and firmly believe that things have the potential to go perfectly (ha. ha ha. hahahahaha.) we're still tempted to over commit ourselves just as the weather is changing.

 

THIS IS A BAD PLAN.

 

Now is the time for Emergen-C, Vitamin C tablets, oranges, clemetines, throat lozenges, hot tea with lemon, and going to bed by 11pm at the very latest! Now is the time for thinking, "Maybe this is the day I will finally cave and wear sweaters in deference to the Arctic Chill that's sneaking in from the north!" Now is the time for washing your hands incessantly and saying, "I know it seems like a good idea to work eight hours, go to choir practice, lead a community organizing event and then stay up late practicing for the debut of rising stars With Or Without Dan, but perhaps I will chill the f*** out and rest instead!"

 

You laugh, but you're living with another three people. If one of us gets sick, we're all going down, and for the rest of the winter someone will be at least a little bit ill until May. I will not be going down without a fight, BSers. It is not my way.

 

Here is my solemn pledge: to keep the house stocked with vitamin C, to wash until my hands dry out, to wear a surgical mask if need be, to do whatever it takes to not be sick.

 

not gonna lie, a little surprised that DKNY carries these.
from scrapetv.com

Now excuse me, I need to go quarantine Jamie before her contagion spreads.

Things That Aren't News

I read a lot.

I mean, a lot. Plenty of folks read more than me, but I guess in some circles it isn't common to read about 50 books each year. During college my pleasure reading went on a small hiatus due to the sheer quantity of reading I did for class, but I always managed to get a few books under my belt during vacations. It wasn't until I encountered several articles about which books are reviewed in prominent publications like the New Yorker and the New York Times that anyone pointed out to me that because books are written by people, you can track the details of the authors you read. For instance, you can count how many books you read by women, or by people of color.

Intrigued, I went over my last twelve months only to find that while I read many books by women, they weren't nearly half of my library. My books by authors of color were even fewer- probably less than 10% of my total.

In my past year of service it has been pointed out to me that one good way to be anti-racist is to listen to people of color, to step back and acknowledge their rightful leadership. Why shouldn't that extend to books? So, for the past year, I've been fighting sexism and racism in my reading choices. So far I've read 38 books this year. Of those, 24 were written by women and 14 by men; 15 have been by authors of color and 23 by white authors.

These are the books I read in 2011 by authors of color so far.

The task has been fascinating, frustrating, and telling. I habitually veer toward books by white people. The switch to primarily books by women was easy- I hear my own frustrations, dreams and voice echoed in their words- but reading books by authors of color has been trying. It's an exercise in being proven wrong, in listening to stories vastly different than my own, in being shown racism in my world and life very matter-of-factly.

At the LSC meeting tonight, my book problem came up in the context of the proposed LSC Book Club. Sarah Huelskoetter and I agreed to put together a book club, with a potential book to read as a group- one that has to do with our discussions of the Journey to an Inclusive Community, one that is accessible in both readability and a plethora of afforadable physical copies, one that is short enough not to intimidate and intriguing enough to start and finish. For myself, I'd ideally like to be sure it's written by a person of color.

A daunting task! I think I'm up to the challenge, but ... what would you read, for either my personal challenge or for the book club? What's of local interest to Minnesotans? What's made you think? Do you think about this, or is it just me?