For the New Year

"This is a day of new beginnings,
time to remember and move on,
time to believe what love is bringing,
laying to rest the pain that's gone.

For by the life and death of Jesus,
love's mighty Spirit, now as then,
can make for us a world of difference,
as faith and hope are born again.

Then let us, with the Spirit's daring,
step from the past and leave behind
our disappointment, guilt, and grieving,
seeking new paths, and sure to find.

Christ is alive, and goes before us
to show and share what love can do.
This is a day of new beginnings;
our God is making all things new."

-Brian Wren, 1978

secrets

I got a book about this art project for Christmas, it was beautiful and fascinating:

http://postsecret.blogspot.com/

game!

A little slow, but I learned something more about the world's nuclear powers:
http://nobelprize.org/educational_games/peace/nuclear_weapons/index.html

thoughts on resistence, protest and arrest

So way back in the day, November 2005, the first time I went to a major vigil where there was the possibility of civil disobedience, I had to seriously weigh the value of being arrested versus the value of being able to return to the country I was in. At the time I decided I could do more good out of jail, with freedom of movement. And despite a range of new experiences in social action, my opinion hasn't changed.

In some activist circles I feel like there is a two-tiered system, where people who have been arrested, or who are open to being arrested, are a higher-class. In my cynical little way though, I wonder if getting arrested can be just another way of escaping mundane life issues. I am also beginning to think that it is easy to get hung up on getting arrested, and thereby lose sight of the possibility of working towards constructive goals.

Did all of these thoughts come up because I was just at an action vigil with a bunch of Catholics to commemorate the Feast Day of the Holy Innocents? Yes, yes they did. For the record, I love activist Catholics, and it was a solid vigil, it just raised some questions for me, but seriously, these days what doesn't? Isn't it cool that Catholics have a day every year right after Christmas to remember when inncents are slaughtered by the powerful, instead of pretending it doesn't happen, or getting bogged down by December 25th sentimentality?

I'm such a sucker for this song!

Especially before the new year, and especially when sung by my favourite men's choir!

"COMPANY
525,600 minutes, 525,000 moments so dear. 525,600 minutes - how do you measure,
measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee. In
inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. In 525,600 minutes - how do you
measure a year in the life?
How about love? How about love? How about love? Measure in love. Seasons of
love.

SOLOIST 1
525,600 minutes! 525,000 journeys to plan. 525,600 minutes - how can you measure
the life of a woman or man?

SOLOIST 2
In truths that she learned, or in times that he cried. In bridges he burned, or
the way that she died.

COMPANY
It’s time now to sing out, tho the story never ends let's celebrate remember a year in the life of friends. Remember
the love! Remember the love! Remember
the love! Measure in love. Seasons of love! Seasons of love."

Happy last few days of 2006 everyone!

"Death of a President"

I have noticed that this is turning into a media-review forum, but I'm going to try and stop watching films with depth during my downtime, seriously, it's just too much.

Wow. Wow. What a film. Like 1984 for our era, only less subtle. I was really scared for a while with where it was going, but then it just somehow...yeah, addressed all my fears and threads of thought of the last while (Islamophobia and the poison of the media amongst other things) and didn't just continue the vicious cycles.

Pretty unsympathetic view of protesters though, kind of makes one stop and think...

It also raised a lot of questions around the seductive option of demonizing one individual, as clearly no one person is responsible for wrong doing on a global level. Also, it just made me uncomfortable, because how would I feel if someone made a movie where my dad (or brother or daughter) was killed a year in the future? Pretty not good, I can tell you that. In fact, probably really really angry, and I doubt I'd be able to see clearly enough to hear any of the good points the film might be making.

This is what I like to hear!

http://www.happynews.com/news/12202006/shia-iraqis-donation-displaced-sunnis.htm

^^

a mug for a CPTer named Mark

Just now Kathy got back from a shopping trip. She was in a mall and she noticed a stall selling ceramics exactly like we'd seen in Palestine. She went over and the shopkeeper asked if she'd ever seen ceramics like this before. She said, "Yes! When I was in Hebron two weeks ago." And then the story came out and it turns out this man was encouraged by a CPTer named Mark nine years ago to come to London to study. Now he is working on his doctorate.

Kathy wanted to buy a mug as a gesture of support, but then the guy gave it to her for free! She thinks really, Mark should have the mug.

Another slant on the situation in Gaza specifically, this man commented to Kathy that it's even worse now because it isn't just Israelis against Palestinians, but Palestinians against each other.
It brings to mind the divide and conquer strategy that worked so well for the British on that same piece of land last century.

alone for Christmas and suicide bombers

From a CPT update in Mexico:
"Schweitzer met with families of the prisoners Tuesday evening in a small chapel in Huajuapan, which was decorated with Christmas lights. Those left behind after the arrests are in a state of shock. Seventeen-year-old Jaime made the twenty-hour trip to see his parents in prison. He is home alone with his fourteen-year-old sister for Christmas."

In other news: I just read an article highlighting women suicide bombers, specifically one woman who was 70 and one girl who was 18. The slant of reporting makes me furious. All these writters seem to care about is selling papers. You have to read two pages of to even begin to brush on WHY someone would do something like that. And I always get pissed off when two people who use violence are highlighted, and the obviously vast majority of people who are not blowing themselves up (but many of who are still working for a resolution to the conflict) are as ever, forgotten.

Incidentally, the more you play up violent responses to oppression in the media, the more average people who are hurting are going to see that as the only possible response to repression.

Alternatively, I would like to remember Hafez' mother. She's also a grandmother, a matriarch. She got thrown around by the soldiers and saw her two sons beaten up and taken to prison, only in her case, it was articulately nonviolent protest.

Hotel Rwanda

Do you remember the moment when the reporters are leaving, and Paul is hopeful that getting the word out to the rest of the world will make a difference, and the younger reporter says, "no, they'll watch it, think 'how horrible,' then go eat their dinners"?

I got very emotional watching the film, and now I've calmed down, and likely, if it were dinner time, I would go eat. Just like I have every day that I am reminded of horror.

I learn every day how complex the problems in our world are. That there are no easy solutions and there are a million shades of grey. But why can't we pull the simple lesson from history that hatred is evil, and inciting fear and hatred of another group has never done good?

There was much shame again to the white western world, to the history of colonialism. If the past will always haunt us, how can the memory be constructive and not destructive in the reality we are stuck with? (Not to say all problems are in the past, there are plenty of new problems whose foundations are being laid now.)

India Aire's "Video"

To all my beautiful women:

"Sometimes I shave my legs and sometimes I don't
Sometimes I comb my hair and sometimes I won't
Depend on how the wind blows I might even paint my toes
It really just depends on whatever feels good in my soul

I'm not the average girl from your video
and I ain't built like a supermodel
But, I learned to love myself unconditionally
Because I am a queen
I'm not the average girl from your video
My worth is not determined by the price of my clothes
No matter what I'm wearing I will always be the india arie

When I look in the mirror and the only one there is me
Every freckle on my face is where it's supposed to be
And I know our creator didn't make no mistakes on me
My feet, my thighs, my lips, my eyes; I'm lovin' what I see...

Am I less of a lady if I don't wear pantyhose?
My mama said a lady ain't what she wears but, what she knows
But, I've drawn a conclusion,
it's all an illusion, confusion's the name of the game
A misconception, a vast deception
Something's gotta change
but,Don't be offended this is all my opinion
ain't nothing that I'm sayin law
This is a true confession of a life
learned lesson I was sent here to share with y'all

So get in where you fit in go on and shine
Clear your mind, now's the time
Put your salt on the shelf
Go on and love yourself
'Cuz everything's gonna be all right...

Keep your fancy drinks and your expensive minks
I don't need that to have a good time
Keep your expensive car and your caviar
All I need is my guitar
Keep your Kristal and your pistol
I'd rather have a pretty piece of crystal
Don't need your silicone I prefer my own
What God gave me is just fine..."

things that make me go "hm..."

http://www.openbethlehem.org/

"being fearful people"

Given the atmosphere I was just in, and given some of my own struggles to get there, this advent devotion from Goshen College seemed particularly relevant:

By Carolyn Schrock-Shenk, associate professor of peace, justice and conflict studies

"Fear. I know it well. Most of us do. "We are fearful people," said Henri Nouwen. "Fear has become… an acceptable basis on which to make our decisions and plan our lives...Those who can make us afraid can make us do what they want us to do…As long as we are kept in fear we can be made to act, speak, and even think as slaves…But fear engenders fear. Fear never gives birth to love."

Those words are as true today as when Nouwen wrote them nearly 20 years ago. We are fed a steady diet of fear. We are told we must get rid of Islamic fundamentalists, undocumented immigrants and those who challenge the traditional family because they will all destroy our way of life. "Be afraid," we are told. "Be very afraid."

And so we are. That fear consumes our energy and renders us totally self-absorbed. That fear makes us absolutely certain about our own "truth," creates an "us" against "them" mentality and provides justification to heap untold misery on "them." That fear controls us, imprisons us and enslaves us to those who feed it to us.

I believe Nouwen is right. Fear cannot give birth to love for fear is the opposite of love. Fear-based actions can only produce hatred, violence and more fear. At its best, fear holds up hands in self-defense. At worst, those hands become fists. Love reaches out those hands in receptivity and invitation. Love reverences the humanity of every being, whether it is a terrorist, an abusive marine or my theological nemesis.

The coming of the Christ-child is the antithesis of fear. It is impossible to hold the reality of Jesus' life and mission in the world together with fear that separates and dehumanizes. Love is truly stronger than fear and Advent invites us to embrace and live out that love. Truly that is the good news of the Gospel."

home again, home again, jiggity jig

Here's a classic pic of western power's infiltration and malnutrition.
Here's the hat, cause I love it.
If your house is stoned, and you have a flat roof, the stones stay on your roof. Sometimes when they are heavy enough, they crack your ceiling inside. Sometimes it may make it impossible to use that room anymore, or that part of the house.
If your windows are shot at, there are holes in the glass. Obviously this is the least of the problem.
This is the farmer who we observed plowing his field. This is the day I was really happy the soldiers were around to control the Settlers.


This is a street in the old city in Hebron. Most shops run by Palestinians have closed down due to harrassment by Settlers. Please notice how nothing is open.
This is the Wall ("Separation Barrier" if you prefer) in Jerusalem. It is not, for the record, following the green line.

I think this is the closest I've ever come to feeling culture shock. Being able to go places alone at night, being able to look people in the eye, being free to wear what I want, NOT SEEING GUNS ANYWHERE, showering and flushing the freaking toilet. It's fantastic, but, you know, "not fair."

On the trip home I read Zadie Smith's White Teeth. It may not be possible to over-sell this book. It was incredible. I can't believe she wrote it before she was 25. And of course, it was the inevitable reminder that I don't need to fly 6 hours to find injustice, I can just jump on a bus. Plus it forced me to think again about being white and middle-class (ouch). I always want to say, "It isn't my fault! I was born this way!" Unfortunately, that isn't much of an excuse.

Final thought: "Cuz this life is too short to live it just for you/But when you feel so powerless, what are you gonna do?" - Nelly Furtado