pies, puppets, & projects

So, last weekend I had the great fortune of attending the Nomadic Theater Company's Cotillion and Pie fight. Yep, a fancy dance and pie fight (c'mon, they're clowns, remember?). It was a fundraiser to take their show, Running into Walls, to the NYC Clown Festival, and it was a smashing (hehe) success. I baked my first pie (for the eating part of the festivities, not the throwing), and surprisingly it actually turned out really well. It was a fruits of the forest pie (strawberry, raspberry, blackberry, blueberry, rubarb, and apple; my personal favorite), and the top crust had a face cut out of it with bottle caps. (Pictures to come.) It is so rare that I have an undertaking that turns out exactly how I picture it in my head. This one did, and it was super satisfying. I was talking to mom as I baked it and told her that it incorporated all the things she'd ever taught me. How to follow directions. Being patient, and persistent. Being hopeful. Believing in myself. Being creative and silly and sharing with others without reservation. I unfortunately got a little lost on the way there, but ended up there in time to help with some of the last minute set up and be photographer for the event (my camera is broken, so I had to use Sarah's camera. Now I've got to get copies of those pics from her! Ahhhhh, I just need to suck it up and buy a new camera). 

Sunday night, despite a driving and chilly rain, Anna, her man Bryan, Avery and I went to the Avett Brothers concert at the Zoo. Anna had scored free tickets from one of her contacts at Wend (the magazine where she works) and we were the lucky benefactors of her generosity. It was a great show, and I had surprisingly existential reflections on it. You see the Avett Brothers are from North Carolina, and for all of my running to get away from the South, it really is my home. And sometimes I miss it. And I might (probably) move back someday, and that's okay. I think it's a really important difference though that if/when I ever move back it would be a conscious choice, not just the easy choice. Moving away has been really important to know that I could. And I love living in Portland (LOVE), and as much as I feel at home here, I don't know if it will ever be my home. 

This past week was my second as a professional puppeteer. Our schedule is roughly to rehearse from 9-2, hour lunch, then workshop of some sort from 3-5. I was driving for about the first week and a half, and then Tuesday driving home in traffic, I remembered how much I hate driving. So Wednesday I started biking. It took me about three days to find a good route (thanks Amy!), but now that I have it's great! I'm getting exercise, and happy chemicals in my brain, and it's absolutely the best way to wake up in the morning. I keep joking that with 5 hours of puppet rehearsals and an hour of biking everyday, I'm going to start looking like a monkey (strong arms and legs with a little belly). I've actually started having to do some pilates at home because if I don't strengthen my core, I could really hurt my back from the puppetry. Speaking of, Thursday of the first week we actually started working through all the blocking with the puppets, and last Wednesday we actually had a run through! (minus the shadow puppets). Phew! I can't believe we're moving so fast! Since Wednesday we have added in all the shadow puppet scenes, light, and sound cues. This leaves us a good three weeks to just work through every little piece of the show (which we started doing on Friday). I am totally exhausted when I get home from work, but really happy. 

Lastly, Avery and I are finally learning how to balance together time and apart time. This, I think is a super-important part of any relationship, and I'm so glad that we can communicate about what we need so easily. So, this week we didn't see each other until Thursday (and had a lovely date night including him seeing my work, dinner, beer, Last Thursday on Alberta, and bike riding), which has given me time to pursue all the little projects around the house I've been meaning to get to for Forever. For instance, organizing the office nook upstairs. We have this lovely little nook upstairs, and when Sarah was working from home she built a desk in the closet-ish space. I since inherited lots of office stuff from LJ's big move and finally organized it into a workable space. I have decided to no more have my computer in my room and ONLY use it in the office. I think this delegation of space will be good for my time management skills as well as self-control. (i.e. being able to actually turn the computer off). Then, yesterday, I completed project of projects that has been hanging over my head since I moved back to this house in late June: hanging curtains. The best part of my room is the windows. I have three big windows on the front of the house that are just lovely. Unfortunately, they are also situated in such a way that if I have my blinds open, I am right on sight level for the sidewalk or street when I am laying on my bed. Not exactly private. Then, Friday, Anna had the wonderful idea to do half curtains for privacy. I got to work yesterday morning, and the result is amazing! I can have my blinds open, and still have privacy, not to mention they're beautiful and make my entire room feel bigger and just gosh darn prettier. Again, pictures to com when I can get my hands on a camera...

Phew, the downside of me updating this thing irregularly is longer posts, but I figure those who really care can shuffle through. I'm having a fantastic Labor Day weekend at home. I had planned to be away, but since my travels are starting SOON, I could think of no better way to relax than in my own home. Love to all!

gentrification, or feeling bad about stealing but doing it anyway

So, this morning before Quaker meeting, I was doing my daily blog-roll, which if you haven't noticed includes the delightfully satirical stuffwhitepeoplelike.com. The most recent entry refers to an New York Times article describing the conflict and conversation happening in the NE neighborhood surrounding the Alberta district. I found this article terribly interesting in light of my recent migration. Moving to Portland, I was looking to escape racism, but instead have found only a hyper-politically correct version of it. What follows is a collection of three different experiences/conversations/interactions that have brought this concern to the forefront of my heart and mind. 

About three weeks ago, I met someone in a semi-professional environment. We were just having a casual conversation and it came up that I'm from the south. Upon hearing this, she echoed a sentiment that I'd heard for the first time last summer, both in Portland and Vermont, that she is acutally "scared" of the south. This reverse-bigotry astounded me then and continues to baffle me. Obviously, I know how screwed-up the south is. I lived there for the first 22 years of my life. It is a complicated place, and the racial divide there is one of many factors that make it thus. Last summer, I found this comment made me defensive and actually proud (for the first time in my life) of being from the south. I now always say that I am glad I am from the south; I think it makes me more complicated. Growing up in the south, you learn about irony at a young age. There are contradictions everywhere and at every level of society. Many different kinds of people live in close proximity. Different neighborhoods, yes, but de-facto segregation is nothing new. The divide at this point seems more cultural than practical, which of course is a gross underestimation of the may factors that contribute to it, but alas, I digress. What I'm trying to say is, regardless of all the problems, people still interact, and if there's racism, it's known. It's not hidden. It's not a secret. That doesn't make it right, but there's an awareness that precludes denial. With a 7% African-American population in Portland, it is easy to espouse the best ways to deal with racial tension without actually doing anything about it, because basically, you don't have to.

But back to my friend.

I pushed her further as to why she is afraid of the south ad she described some of the normal bad things about the south (racism, fundamentalism, misogyny, etc.), but went on to say (with a chuckle and shake of her head) that she just wished she could sit down with people there and fix these problems.

I found this a) condescending and b) a vast under-estimation of the complexity of these problems. I attempted to make a polite rebuttal but it was neither the time nor place for a full on argument. The conversation ended with a mutual shrug.

Did I mention she was born and raised in Portland?

Then at meeting this morning, the first message was given by a beautifully spirited elder in the meeting. This woman's concern, warmth, and openness point to a life of kindness. I want so much to be like her at her age. Anyway, she spoke to her concern of the condition of Burma (Myanmar). She expressed her own internal conflict of recognizing the need for aid there, but the corrupt government preventing it. She shared her confusion of being unsure of how to respond. She proposed three options:

1) Doing nothing

2) Waiting until asked for aid to give it

3) Forcing our way in despite the political conditions.

She said she didn't know the right response because she didn't think there was one. What she was struggling with, she shared, was that she hoped to find a best if not right course of action.

Then at lunch today (a group of 9! Young Adult Friends gathered after meeting for lunch today. Super Fantastic!!), we started discussing a YAF conference that a couple of people had attended last weekend in Indiana. Somehow a conversation about community and diversity came up in a reference to both the queer and non-white communities both present and absent from their conference and our local gathering. One Friend went on to propose (quoting the sole black attendee of the conference) that if we want to see more people of different backgrounds in our meeting then we need to "reach out to them, welcome them to the table, and invite them to help us decide how the table is set." He is always quick with a beautiful metaphor, so I pushed him to discuss practically what that meant. Deftly skirting over any overt reference to a specific group, he proposed that if we wanted to see more people who owned canaries in meeting that we should call the canary owners in the community, invite those of the canary-owning persuasion to join us, welcome them into our group and listen to their canary-owning perspective, and invite them to join in the decision making process of our meeting.

While I see the truth and Quaker essence in this proposition, I find it somehow flawed as well. There is something inherently condescending in both my friends' propositions for improvement. They are both people I respect and value their opinions greatly, but their comments, to me, denoted a blindness to privilege that both prevents us from solving our own complaints (lack of diversity), an perpetuates a kind of bigotry in itself. 

I understand the need to actively reach out and listen to the voices that have been systematically oppressed in our culture and society, but I am tired of people of privilege and power making beautiful theoretical statements about the best way to fix other people's lives.

To me, it seems that people who crave "diversity" live farthest away from it. It also seems that these same people have a haphazard craving/need to surround themselves with people who are different from them. Similarly, it seems that all this inclusiveness is a guilt-laden reactionary response to make privileged people feel better about being privileged.

Attempting to atone for the sins of previous generations by reaching out to people of a specific race or class simply because they are different seems a perversion of intent. Conversely, it is also important to note that it is a gross misinterpretation of reality to deny that there is indeed a vast disconnect in our society between people of different races, socio-economic statuses, and sexual orientations.

I feel that in reaching out to people, we should reach out to all people. Yes, that includes people of different races, sexual-orientations, and socio-economic statuses paying special attention to any prejudices that may reside within ourselves. As a member of the majority, I feel it is my responsibility to be sensitive to the needs of others without assuming I know the best answers for them. The goal is to be inclusive while simultaneously respectful of differences. Is that possible? Like I said, this has been at the forefront of my heart and mind and I welcome any criticism or discussion this may spur. I am wrestling with this issue and am no where close to having a conclusion for this post.