Image description: A soft yellow bird perched on a branch adorned with green leaves, flowers, and red cherries, set against a soft sage green background. By BiancaVanDijk via Pixabay.
In March, our team gathered in North Andover, MA, for an in-person retreat – our first in five years. After half a decade of virtual collaboration and navigating global upheavals, coming together in person felt nothing short of revolutionary. And in the age of 47, with political uncertainty and social justice work more critical than ever, the timing could not have been more important.
For many, it was the first time meeting face-to-face. For others, it was a chance to deepen relationships with longtime colleagues and friends. And, because this room was mostly full of seasoned facilitators, you know we spent time reflecting on process, holding space, and (let’s be honest) probably overanalyzing the agendas. Over three days, we didn’t just talk about collaboration and love; we practiced them, in all their beautiful, messy, necessary forms. And perhaps to the surprise of no one, we reaffirmed that the strength of our work is rooted in the strength of our relationships.
A few takeaways from our time together:
Trust Grows in the Big and Small Moments We Share
Building a culture of trust is something that needs to be nurtured again and again through intentional actions and shared experiences. It’s not a bullet point on a strategic plan. Our retreat was designed to help us build trust in ways both big and small, and each activity played a role in strengthening our collective leadership.
Through laughter, tears, storytelling, sharing meals, nature walks, and so much more, we connected for the sake of connection. We engaged in Aikido, a martial art that teaches balance, fluidity, and responsiveness. Through movement, we explored what it means to be in a relationship with one another, practicing how to meet resistance without aggression and how to move in alignment rather than opposition. These lessons are central to how we navigate power, conflict, and change in our daily work.
To meaningfully close out our time together, we stood shoulder to shoulder in a circle and affirmed our commitment to one another as part of the journey ahead. We picked stones that drew us in, their colors and textures calling to us in various ways. Around the circle, each person had a chance to be heard and seen, and to drop our chosen stones into a jar filled to the brim with others. It was quiet, simple, and deeply powerful. We were reminded that while we each have a part, none of us can do this work alone.
Inclusion Is a Verb
Not everyone could physically be in the room, so we needed to ensure that our affiliates who joined virtually weren’t just passive observers but fully engaged participants. That meant:
Projecting their incredible faces as large as we could into the room.
Carrying a mic to each person speaking so remote participants could hear every voice clearly.
Facetiming them into breakout groups so they could participate in real discussions rather than just listening in.
Giving them key roles in in-person activities, including narrating performances and guiding discussions.
Hybrid spaces can easily feel exclusionary, but we worked to make everyone feel like they were part of the collective experience. A helpful reminder here: Inclusion isn’t just about who’s invited but how they are meaningfully included.
We also created “silent tables” during meals, so folks who didn’t feel like being social could have a space to just be. In a field that often prioritizes extroversion and constant engagement, this was a small but meaningful way to honor different needs.
Sometimes You Need to Dance Through the Hard Stuff
If you’ve attended our trainings before, you know it wouldn’t be an IISC space without joy. Yes, we had deep conversations. Yes, we held space for complexity. But there was also movement, play, and celebration. We shared poetry, sang, played board games, and even had a dance party. This work has always been challenging, and we know it will continue to be. And if we don’t make space for joy, movement, and real connection, we won’t last.
Why does this matter? Because social and racial justice work is long-haul work. Burnout and exhaustion are real, particularly for those historically marginalized, and our ability to sustain ourselves depends on how well we tend to joy, connection, and rest. This isn’t a distraction from the work; it literally is the work. A team that trusts one another and knows how to get through the hard stuff together is a team that can face what comes next with more clarity and strength.
Practice Makes…Better
IISC isn’t perfect. No organization is. We make mistakes, we hit rough patches, and we sometimes struggle to live up to our values. But what makes this work possible and what keeps us moving forward is our commitment to love and relationship.
As we return to our day-to-day work, we carry these lessons with us: the power of presence, the necessity of trust, and the radical act of making space for joy. After five years apart, this retreat was a reminder that our culture always needs tending to and that how we show up for one another while doing this important work really matters.
To everyone who made this gathering meaningful, thank you. May we continue to build a stronger ‘we’ and find ways to move forward.
Photo of over 20 IISC staff members at a retreat space in early March.Leave a commentApril 2, 2025
A black background features an abstract outline resembling the Earth at its center, with bold, vibrant flowers blooming within. Beneath it, overlapping circles in various colors create a dynamic, layered foundation. By Yeti Iglesias via Unsplash+
“Food for us comes from our relatives, whether they have wings or fins or roots. That is how we consider food. Food has a culture. It has a history. It has a story. It has relationships.”
Winona LaDuke
This past week, I had the opportunity to co-create and curate with my colleague Karen Spiller the first ever “food justice track” for the national conference hosted by The Privilege Institute (TPI) in Hartford, Connecticut. TPI has long been committed to helping people understand the systems of supremacy and oppression that continue to harm and marginalize growing numbers of people and our more-than-human kin, and to supporting “solutionizing” our way forward through diverse collaborations. As participants in and presenters at past TPI conferences, and as co-stewards of the Food Solutions New England’s Network’s equity leadership efforts, Karen and I were grateful to be invited by TPI founder Dr. Eddie Moore, Jr. to host this track on food systems and what they have to do with just, sustainable and thriving communities. And we are very thankful for the generous financial support provided by the RWJF Special Contributions Fund of the Princeton Area Community Foundation for this work.
Our track featured five sessions intended to ground people in historical and current impacts of efforts to control food, land and water in establishing caste systems and hierarchies of human value, as well as to highlight more humane, dignified and eco-logical alternatives for our collective food future. Our flow of offerings included workshops focused on:
“The Love Ethic” and Work for Food Justice, facilitated by Karen Spiller and yours truly under the auspices of both Food Solutions New England and the Interaction Institute for Social Change.
Right Relationship Across Race, Ethnicity, Gender, Class, Age, Geography and Sectors, hosted by Noel Didla and Liz Broussard Red of the Center for Mississippi Food Systems.
For a larger version of this food systems map, go to this link.
“If you really want to make a friend, go to someone’s house and eat with them. The people who give you their food give you their heart.”
Cesar Chavez
There was a lot of engaged discussion in and across the sessions, and a common commitment to creating spaces that could hold complexity and honor the multiplicity of our individual and collective selves (one definition we offer for “love”). Along the way, what surfaced was the power of focusing on food to help people understand more about where we are as communities, a country and world, and how we might move forward together. A few related reflections:
Appreciation was expressed in several sessions for helping participants understand food as a system. For even considerably educated people, the complex networks that bring food to our plates can remain largely invisible. Whether we are talking about farm/fisheries inputs, production, aggregation, processing, distribution, eating, or resource recapture, there is an amazing and diverse array of players and interactions providing us with our daily meals. This awareness can be empowering and help us understand that the daily choices we make as eaters really matter, and that some of us have fewer choices than others.
In most of our sessions, we invited people to consider and share stories related to food. Our experience is that this is always connective in a number of different ways. As a species we have long had shared stories around meals, such that there is much about eating that can bring to mind memories of various kinds. Through our work with Food Solutions New England, we have been encouraging people to share stories of joy related to food, which anyone can do through this “joy mapping” link. Even when memories around food are painful, feeling seen, validated and perhaps understood when we share them with others who have had similar experiences can be very helpful.
For some people, the notion of “food as medicine” was very eye-opening and inspiring. Nutritious food that is not simply caloric can be a balm for our bodies and spirits. The way we grow food can help heal the Earth, especially when we adopt regenerative approaches, including agroecological techniques. When we share a meal, it can bring us closer to one another and even heal divides or advance respect for and understanding of one another. And because food is intimately linked to culture, when we reconnect with and reclaim our food traditions and share them with others, it can be tremendously restorative.
It was also very eye-opening for people to understand that the dominant food system we have in this country is grounded in a legacy of colonialism, the plantation economy and extractive approaches that have repressed people’s foodways and controlled their diets. This continues today in many rural and urban communities where grocery chains and “dollar stores” owned by those from outside those communities import overly processed foods (bypassing local producers and more nutritious options), offer low-paying jobs often with challenging working conditions and extract profits from those communities. Furthermore, continued consolidation of food-related enterprises means that the rich keep getting richer while everyone else fights for scraps.
“Eating is so intimate. … When you invite someone to sit at your table and you want to cook for them, you’re inviting a person into your life.”
Maya Angelou
The good news is that there is much we can do as eaters, community members, voters and caring people to support food systems that promote equitable wellbeing and connect us to what matters most in life. This is what we pointed to in each of our workshop sessions, and that we will once again do through the annual Food Solutions New England 21-Day Racial Equity Habit Building Challenge, which starts on April 7th and for which IISC has been a core partner since its launch in 2015. The Challenge is free and open to all, and requires registration to receive daily emails and links to many resources focused on how we can build a “bigger we” for the more beautiful world we know is possible. There are also opportunities to be in virtual community with others participating in the Challenge. You can find more information here.
P.S. We have been invited to replicate and expand the food justice track at next year’s TPI Conference in Seattle, Washington. Stay tuned for more updates.
“Food is strength, food is peace, and food is freedom.“
Image description: A bold 2D illustration of a woman with dark brown skin and blue hair cradling a blue Earth and leaves amidst the night sky. By Yeti Iglesias via Unsplash+.
In times of great change and uncertainty, where can we turn for guidance for how to navigate? Well, it turns out there is a lot of wisdom that we can all tap into that comes in many different forms. And we don’t really need to stretch that far to access it. How do I know this? Because we have asked.
One of my favorite group check-in questions over the past month has been:
“Who (or what) is one important teacher you have had in your life, and what is one important teaching you have received from that teacher?”
People have really loved this question, both conjuring up beloved teachers in many different forms – formal teachers, family members, friends, mentors, pets, a favorite tree, a powerful experience – as well as sharing with and hearing from one others.
This is a taste of what came up in answer to the question over the past couple of weeks, which people agreed provided some solid grounding for them:
Stand in integrity.
Trust your gut/intuition.
Remember your purpose.
Always save a place for joy.
Honor the intelligence of your body.
Don’t let the knuckleheads get you down.
Be as clear as you can in your communication with others.
Sometimes you have to break big things down into smaller pieces.
Show you care by overcoming challenges and showing up.
Remember to laugh and take your mistakes lightly.
Remember the power of pausing and reflecting.
Remember there is always more to the story.
Don’t try to win the game … change it.
Forgive, both yourself and others.
In the end, love wins.
What about you? Who is a teacher you would lift up and a teaching from them that might be helpful to remember now and perhaps to share with others?
The movement for justice is a marathon, not a sprint. In every meeting I attended on January 21, I asked folks how they spent January 20. Almost everyone said they avoided or minimized news and social media, in favor of focusing on the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday and other activities that fed their souls. I did too. Here are a few of my highlights.
An MLK Day celebration in Watertown, MA featured a 45-minute table discussion instead of a typical keynote speaker. The emphasis was on neighbors discussing important issues, including how they relate to Dr. King’s Fundamental Philosophy of Nonviolence. Those discussions were facilitated by middle school students trained in Kingian nonviolence principles and practices. It was a beautiful reminder of the power of King’s philosophy and the power of adults following the lead of young people.
Get in the Way, a documentary about the late Congressman and former chair of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee, John Lewis, inspired me to find ways to get into good and necessary trouble.
The interfaith service, For Such A Time as This: A Prophetic Response to America’s Defining Moment featured faith leaders from many traditions, including Bishop William Barber of the Poor People’s Campaign: A National Call for Moral Revival. It grounded me in my deepest values and source of strength.
Jon Batiste’s Beethoven Blues washed over me, creating a sense of buoyancy and peace.
A visit to my mother-in-law reminded me of how precious life and family are, and what a gift it is to be able to confront this moment with a clear mind.
The next day, I read the inauguration speech, doing my best to apply Prophetic Listening Guidelines offered by Repairers of the Breach to my reading. While I feel the weight of this moment, I am also feeling informed but not overwhelmed by information and opinion. I’m ready to pay close attention while guarding against a constant flow of frustration. I’m also feeling fortified by my faith and my confidence that as friends, colleagues, movement comrades, family, church members, and neighbors begin to discern what is needed from us in this moment, we will find ways to meet this moment together with the grace, strength, humility, and wisdom it requires.
In the weeks following the election, I was on the road all over the country, gathering with thousands of leaders, organizers, and funders. When I got on the plane to Washington, DC on the day after the election, I felt a power I didn’t know I had—to look straight into the face of my worst fears for our country and greet it with power and resolve.
The memory of Harriet Tubman jumped into my body. I felt ten-feet taller and engulfed in a heavy cloak of protection. Harriet brought enslaved Africans to freedom in Canada through an elaborate system of travel, shelter, and care. Harriet could easily have brought her family to Canada and stopped there, but she repeatedly came back to the United States and carried hundreds of others to freedom. Her unyielding bravery reminds us that the fight for justice isn’t a singular act but a lifetime commitment to freedom for all. Her legacy fuels my determination and our collective mission at IISC to keep returning for those still seeking liberation.
She was not done. I am not done. IISC is not done.
What I learned from my days in DC and in subsequent convenings and conversations is that we have a duty to work for justice—for ourselves and for others, unequivocally. Come January and the inauguration, we will enter a strong era of oppression and suppression. Rest assured IISC will not let any human or system of hate stop the work for justice. We will work to significantly expand human connection and collaboration so that no oppression or its deep shards of pain and injustice can stand.
At IISC, we know this country has the potential to reset in the right direction. Doing so will require us to be facilitative leaders—people who create the conditions for everyone to lead, to forge new pathways, to reach for and love “the other,” and to create enduring and bold networks that together are big enough and resilient enough to take on any fight that comes its way.
We’re so excited to launch new offerings to support you. Our staff and members of our “Dream Lab” will roll out a new interactive learning session in 2025 on network leadership, a training on shared leadership, a new program to amplify and protect the leadership of women of color who are leading organizations and brave movements, and more. These resources are designed to prepare you for this next chapter in America’s story.
Go back to your communities and expand who will be on the side of love and liberation so that we can reach our North Star. Change what you can control—make your workplace more humane, join actions of resistance, talk with people who others won’t talk with, and collaborate instead of competing out of fear.
Powerlessness is pernicious. But it can’t stand up to the strength of connection, collaboration, and interaction. And the persistence of love, the greatest force for change.
“Find a river, that flows to the sea put your feet in the water, carry you home.”
-The Mitchell Twins, from the song “Find a River”
Last week I had the opportunity to hear a talk given by Kari Kastango, who is the first person known to have swum the length of the Connecticut River. She was the perfect kick-off speaker at a gathering of Rivershed protectors in my home region who are looking to grow and strengthen their efforts through what amounts to a network of networks. To me, Kastango’s talk set a wonderful foundation for this collaborative work, highlighting the importance of being in deeper relationship with the river itself, and taking guidance from this connection.
Kastango began her talk by saying that she was influenced from an early age by extreme athletes who tested the limits of human capacity. This led her to participate in various endurance events, such as “iron man” contests, and eventually to the idea of swimming the entire length of the Connecticut River. She shared that when she made the commitment she initially thought the river was around 200 miles in length. She then learned it was 410 miles. Her response – “Double the fun!” – was an affirmation of what has been coming through loud and clear for some months now – We can do hard things and sometimes the best thing to do is to run towards the danger.
As further illustration of this point, Kastango talked about how one summer she chose a couple days to swim a particularly challenging length of the river that fell between two hurricanes. With torrential downpours having stirred the waters into considerable turbulence, she learned that she should not fight the currents, but respect them, giving time to get a sense of the flows, and to go with those. The teaching that came through to me is that – even in what may feel like chaos and threatening conditions – a more coherent pattern can become evident if we are both patient and flexible.
Kastango also talked about how over time she became more observant, not simply of the waters and the sky, but other “kin” moving in and around the waters. Birds and other critters who are more familiar with certain environments and conditions have much to teach us if we choose to listen/watch/sense. Lesson – there is much wisdom to be learned from those who are indigenous to a place or land/waterscape, both human and more-than-human.
Another point I took away from Kastango’s talk was when she shared about getting toward the end of her swim. As she approached the Long Island Sound she said she could feel the pull of the larger waters. “It was like they were calling me home,” she said with a smile on her face. At that point she could relax more and let the waters carry her towards the sea. From this I heard that there can be a pull underlying our efforts to create change, or navigate challenge, and that this force actually wants to guide us to a “better” place, a place of greater belonging, beyond any of our efforts to force or even imagine.
Though she wrapped up her swim a year ago, Kastango said that after all those months and miles, she still feels the river in her. She still is in relationship with those waters. And that is why she tells her story – that others might develop that kind of special connection, that we not forget our more-than-human kin, and that more of us work to protect the rivers and other waterways that are (in the words of an Indigenous teacher) “the elixir of life.”
For those who live in and/or love the Connecticut River Watershed and want to learn more about the efforts to connect and protect, go to this link. And for some fun facts about Kari Kastango’s swim, go to this link.
Image by Emily Bergquist, shared under provisions of Creative Commons Attribution license 2.0.
“We must move ourselves beyond resistance and survival, to flourishment and ‘mino bimaadiziwin’(the good life).“
Leanne Betasamosake Simpson
“The challenge is to replace practices that distance and disconnect with ones that evoke empathy, caring, and creativity.”
Carol Sanford
NOTE: This is a slightly revised version of a post that appeared about a year and a half ago. We live, we learn, and so some of the overall framing and details have shifted, but the essence here remains the same …
In our collaborative change work with organizations and multi-organizational networks, we at IISC are adamant about doing thoughtful “stakeholder analysis” at the start of an initiative, and returning to this work periodically, asking the question, “Who are we missing or not seeing?” As important as this can be, not everyone loves the word “stakeholder.” It can sound somewhat wonky and impersonal, and I myself have been thinking about the word “stake” and what it says about people.
To have a stake means “to have a share, interest, or involvement in something or someone.” Going back to the early 1700s, a stakeholder was one to whom money was deposited when making a wager/bet. And in the colonizing of what is now the United States, stakes were literally placed on lands that were stewarded by Indigenous peoples as a way of claiming ownership of them. What none of this conveys is a sense of care or caring. I don’t mean whether or not someone cares (or is indifferent), but whether there is a genuine heartfelt/embodied sense of connection or deep desire to participate, protect, co-create and/or contribute. Increasingly, this sense of care and caring (along with reckoning and making amends) is showing up as a crucial factor in making the work of complex collaborative (systemic and culture) change happen.
Recently, Anne Heberger Marino tweeted something about translating “stakeholders” to “careholders” in her/their mind to get beyond “detached objectivity.” I really like and resonate with that! And it goes beyond the term I had been playing with that still felt a bit detached – “interest-holder.” Playing with language seems to raise some interesting possibilities. In general, when we at IISC work with partners to consider who might been engaged in collaborative social change work, we uplift the following categories/criteria (applied to individuals and groups) with respect to a given initiative:
Is likely to be impacted by the outcome of the effort/decision
Functions as a connector in or across sector(s)/field(s)/communities
Is in a position to implement the effort/decision
Is in a position to prevent the effort/decision from being implemented
Has relevant information or “expertise” (including lived experience)
Has informal influence without authority
Has formal authority/responsible for the final decision
Is Indigenous to the place where we are doing “the work”
Applying a lens of “caring” or (or even of “loving”) to these criteria brings out another level or nuance, for me anyways. Beyond functionality and/or positionality, it invites me to ask: Who really connects to and cares about what we are trying to do? This can deepen and really anchor the analysis in powerful ways and also potentially expand possibilities for the initiative in question. Farmer, poet and essayist Wendell Berry has talked about the importance of what he calls “the turn towards affection.” Having spent many years reflecting on and pushing back against the unfortunate demonstrated human capacity to damage the land and demonize “the other,” he takes a strong stand for deep connection, or affection:
“For humans to have a responsible relationship to the world, they must imagine their places in it. … By imagination we see it illuminated by its own unique character and by our love for it.”
And, of course, there is longstanding Indigenous perspective and practice around “seeing” and sensing the land and all beings as kin, as “relations” that shape us and are shaped by us, with or without our conscious “knowing.” What if we asked ourselves and others what might be illuminated by people bringing their affection, love and/or sense of kinship to the initiative, work, place and/or goal in question? Who already has this? How might we inspire it in others?
“Cares deeply about the effort/decision” might become its own worthy category/criterion. And in looking at the criterion from the list above, “Is in a position to prevent the initiative/decision from being implemented” (the proverbial “blocker(s)”), bringing a lens of care might help us wonder what perceived “adversaries” actually care about/love/connect to. Might this kind of curiosity help to build bridges and understanding from the outset as opposed to immediately relegating certain people and groups to the category of “them”?
Speaking to the last criterion in the list above, recent conversations among a group of IISC staff and affiliates about these categories and criterion have raised important considerations of Indigenous peoples and perspectives. Increasingly we are seeing an interest in acknowledging and addressing harms done through colonialism, validating Indigenous ways of knowing, and working to establish “right relationships” and a “resurgence” (borrowing language here from Leanne Betasamosake Simpson) of saluto-genic (health/wholeness-promoting) systems. And perhaps by extension of these notions of “indigeneity” and caring, we might also consider who: “Speaks for the land” (see the work and writings of Jeannette Armstrong, of the Okanagan people) and also “Speaks for the more-than-human realm.”
I am also reminded of our IISC Collaborative Change Lens, which includes the facet of “love” as a force for social transformation and justice. Love here is a deeply rooted sensibility and practice, something that connects us in an ongoing way to “right mind and right action” in support of the “bigger We” of which we are all a part. As we say on our website, “We nurture the love that does justice: the desire for the wellbeing of others, which is central to every social change movement. Love infuses our power with compassion, reclaims our resilience, heals our wounds, causes us to see ourselves as connected, and enables our radical imagination.”
Finally, at least for now, as I look at the list of nine criteria above, I am tempted to add one more growing out of the unfolding spirit of these reflections. I would simply add a place/seat for “possibility,” in whatever form that might want to take. To and for me, the practice of leaning into more caring/loving leads naturally to this kind of space. More on that soon. And in the meantime …
What might care and care-holding bring to your consideration of who and how to engage others/”kin” in your social change work?
“We now know what each other is made of. We can start weaving this beautiful tapestry, this community.”
“I don’t want to wait another 8 months until we are back in person!”
“I want others to know about this. I’ve never experienced anything like this. Others should know about this.”
The three quotes above came from participants in the newest Food Solutions New England (FSNE) Network Leadership Institute cohort, at the close of our opening session two weeks ago. After a year of doing an on-line only Institute, we made the decision to move to a hybrid model for this sixth annual offering, launching and concluding in-person during the warmer months (September and June) and going on-line for five sessions during the colder months late fall through early spring 2023.
Like so many, we weighed many considerations before making this choice. As one participant said during the session, “Many of us had to push through vulnerabilities to be here.” Ultimately we felt we really needed to tap into the power of the in-person gathering to ground people and set an energetic tone for the rest of the program. Many conversations were had about COVID protocols that would ensure safety without being overly onerous. This ended up including a wrist band system (see photos below), testing the day before, at arrival and after upon returning home (tests provided by the program), meeting for the bulk of the time outdoors in a tent with plenty of ventilation, light and spacing, and making masks available for those who wanted them, when we met or ventured indoors.
Our COVID care station
The tone we aimed to set from the outset was one of community care and belonging, acknowledging that for some this would be a new and welcome experience, and others may well be feeling anxious and uncertain. Hosting is always a spirit we aim to bring to the Institute, whether in-person or virtual, and includes working to ensure that everyone feels welcome and that their well-being is front and center. This included providing clear information on the front end around expectations and supports, a warm welcome upon arrival, a care package of local/regional food items (appropriate to our common work), keeping food and beverages available and setting a tone of ease and enjoyment (fidget items on tables, art supplies and a diverse music playlist).
Co-faciltator Karen Spiller with the cohort
Since 2016, IISC has been partnering with the FSNE Backbone Team from the University of New Hampshire’s (UNH) Sustainability Institute, to support and connect people in this region who are committed to advancing the emergence of just, sustainable, collaboratively stewarded and self-determined food futures for all who live here. This network and leadership development offering initiative grew out of system mapping that FSNE undertook several years ago to identify areas of leverage to shift extractive, inequitable and life-depleting patterns of the dominant food system.
More recently, the network has honed its focus on four overlapping impact areas as its unique and essential contribution, complementing those of its partners in the region, to bringing the FSNE vision and values for food system transformation to life. The Network Leadership Institute (NLI) is an outgrowth of both Network Building & Strengthening as well as Racial Equity & Values Leadership, but also touches on the other two areas as well in its content.
From the start, we knew that the main value of any kind of leadership development program would be in the people that came together and the relationships they built with one another. You only need to read about the current cohort to feel how much potential there is in simply creating opportunities for these individuals to connect and identify as more of a collective! From there, we were interested in connecting those involved in the program with other values-aligned change agents in the region. In addition, we looked at giving people an experience of different and diverse places in our region (rural, urban, coastal) and to see their work in a regional context. Lastly, we wanted to offer an opportunity for participants to hone their skills as collaborative/network leaders and social (especially racial) equity champions.
This year’s program integrates all of these elements, again with a particular theme of care and welcome. What we heard from this year’s cohort was how this was very much appreciated and built over the course of the more than 24 hours we were together. Here are some highlights of the programmatic progression that were intended to contribute to our themes of care, trust, truth and belonging:
We began by breaking bread together, at small tables, in the tent. Good food, relaxing music and informal introductions were meant to help people land softly.
We formally opened, as we generally do during FSNE gatherings, with an offering and a grounding exercise. The offering might be a poem, a quote, a song, a short story, a dance …. We read one of our favorite stanzas of poetry from William Stafford’s “A Ritual to Read to Each Other,” (see below), again to set a tone for the session, and then led people who were interested (making sure to let people know it was voluntary) through an embodied exercise to ground bodies/nervous systems, honor feelings and any thoughts people might be having as we got going.
We were joined by NLI alum Rachel Sayet, a Mohegan tribal member, Indigenous educator, essential oil crafter and Reiki practitioner, to provide some background on the land on which we were meeting and the history and present of Indigenous peoples who have stewarded them. This included the terrible and truthful telling of the actions of Lord Jeffrey Amherst, for whom the town in which we were meeting is still named, as well as efforts by indigenous educators and students in the area to reclaim their foodways and advance food sovereignty.
If you don’t know the kind of person I am
and I don’t know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.
We introduced everyone to the Welcome Table ritual, through which people share objects that are meaningful to and say something about them, and share a bit of that story. At the end of our session, participants are invited to take their object back and say what they have gained during their time with the group. People always remark how “deep” this goes very quickly in helping people get a sense of one another.
We collaboratively built community care agreements, by consensus, first by inviting people to consider their self-care practices and then inviting them into conversation with one another about what might support the entire “village.” We guided them through one of the Liberating Structures practices known as 1-2-4-All for this.
We introduced people to a brief history of the University of New Hampshire’s Sustainability Institute, the Backbone Organization (convenor, coordinator, communicator and fundraiser) for Food Solutions New England, how it defines “sustainability” broadly (including cultural diversity and social equity) as well as the history and current reality of FSNE. In presenting this, we made clear that this new cohort was already a part of FSNE and we welcomed their contributions not just to the Institute, but its various other programs and initiatives.
From UNH Sustainability Institute
We started our second day by sharing a land acknowledgment in the form of a poem (another favorite – “Being Human” by Naima Penniman) that personalizes our connections to the Earth).And we shared an offering with some of the same themes in the form of a quote by Penobscot educator and advocate Sherri Mitchell ((Weh’na Ha’mu’ Kwasset) from her book Sacred Instructions: Indigenous Wisdom for Living Spirit-Based Change(see below), which encourages the reader/listener to attune to the rhythms in the natural world for greater ease and alignment.
“When we merge our internal rhythms with the rhythms of creation, we develop grace in our movement, and without thought or effort we are able to slide into the perfectly choreographed dance of life.”
On our second day we also invited offeringsfrom the cohortmembers, whoever felt moved to do so. There were three – a short personal story, a reading and a poem. We look forward to more over the course of our next six sessions!
We invited people to get artistically expressive through illustrating their River of Life– with crayons, pencils, markers – and naming where they are in their leadership/change agency journeys. They then were invited to share these in trios and talk about how they want the Institute to support them moving forward, and what their intentions were for learning from and contributing to the program and one another’s journeys.
We delved into Facilitative Leadership for Social Change, our collaborative skills curriculum for the program, and led off with the practice of “Balancing Dimensions of Collaborative Success: Results, Process, Relationship.” This practice includes a small group challenge exercise (building a tower) that tends to bond people (lots of laughter) and helps them think about the trust, care, truth and belonging that is needed to ensure long-term “success” in collaborative change work.
Mutual trust, holistic care, truth-telling and equitable belonging. Those words were expressed throughout our first session in one form or another, in word and in deed, by the hosting team, guests and by the participants. It was evident how these were not just ideas, but becoming part of the collective body that will carry this program and network forward, as we move into an on-line season. “That’s okay,” said one participant,” as some bemoaned going back to more life on Zoom, “we know each other now. That will stay with us.” And we are delighted to already see one subset of the group looking to meet in person soon in the southeast of our region.
This is how we do and will do it, as the poet Marge Piercy writes in two stanzas of her poem “Seven of Pentacles” (see below image) …
Cohort 6, just before our closing, at The Welcome Table
Weave real connections, create real nodes, build real houses. Live a life you can endure: Make love that is loving. Keep tangling and interweaving and taking more in, a thicket and bramble wilderness to the outside but to us interconnected with rabbit runs and burrows and lairs.
Live as if you liked yourself, and it may happen: reach out, keep reaching out, keep bringing in. This is how we are going to live for a long time: not always, for every gardener knows that after the digging, after the planting, after the long season of tending and growth, the harvest comes.
Image by Nick Doty, used under provision of Creative Commons attribution license 2.0.
In previous posts (see “Life (and Power) on the Resilient Edge of Resistance” and “At the Heart of Regeneration is … the Heart (and the Gut”), I have written about my experiences with the Weston Network and the Respectful Confrontation training and apprenticeship program and more recently with the Fierce Civility teacher training program, which I began in March of this year. This most recent experience, including a 5 day retreat with a small and racially diverse group of skillful practitioners from around the US, again drove home the importance for me of embodied practice generally, and specifically to manage our nervous systems and engage in interpersonal “co-regulation.” To me, Joe Weston is a true magician, a masterful teacher and coach, and someone that hashelped me to develop deeper reverence for my body and its wisdom (along with very adept healers, Dr. Eve Capkanis and Gwen McClellan).
A few weeks ago, Joe gave me a draft of his forthcoming book, currently titled Fierce Civility: Transforming Our Global Culture from Polarization to Lasting Peace, and asked that I do a critical review. I came away with more appreciation for what he and The Weston Network are trying to achieve in these fractured and fractious times. “Civility” has (almost) become a dirty word, seen as naive and impossible by some (at least when considering certain cultural and political divides), and as harmful by others, if “being civil” means not speaking or hearing truths or working for social justice. Joe appreciates all of this (writing at one point – “Even our passivity has taken on a tone of aggression”), and holds the concept of civility in dynamic tension with fierce-ness.
Fierce civility is not about “chronic niceness” or conflict avoidance, but rather advocates for stances of assertiveness (as opposed to aggression) and receptivity (as opposed to passivity). Fierce civility is not about glossing over systemic and structural injustice and oppression, even as it does not shy away from promoting personal responsibility and accountability. This delicate and sometimes difficult balancing act was definitely a topic of conversation this past weekend when our Fierce Civility cohort (whom Joe has dubbed “love ninjas”) gathered on the heels of Friday’s US Supreme Court decision on Roe v. Wade. That is a discussion that will continue, no doubt. Joe writes in his book, “We are technologically overfed and spiritually malnourished,” and encourages people to intentionally change their diets (quality and quantity) as a means of effectively making both personal and systemic change. And best if this is work is done with supportive community.
Four core elements of Fierce Civility and Respectful Confrontation
There is much more to say about the book, as well as the practices that the Weston Network teaches (though better to actually read the book and engage in the practices), but for now, I wanted to share (with Joe’s permission) some particular quotes that struck while reading the draft and that have stayed with me.
“True martial artists would say that they learn how to fight so that they can pivot away from conflict and aggression and prevent fighting, and that is true power.”
“Imagine in a conversation if the goal on both sides was to protect yourself, the other and the conversation itself from unconscious reactivity and the lack of civility that can unexpectedly seep in.”
“When we give the extremes all of our attention, our focus is turned towards them and away from the larger majority of people who hold more nuanced, less reactive views of the same issues.”
“What if the most courageous, revolutionary and impactful thing you could do at this time is to cultivate a daily practice of aligning with your humanity, embody a deeper level of resilience, avoid burn out, as well as maintain and deepen authentic relationships?”
“This is what true freedom is: freeing yourself of unexamined beliefs and biases; gaining confidence to stay regulated in challenging situations; opening your heart in safe and empowered ways, and protecting against any threats to civility and non-violence.”
“Many of us have forgotten that debating issues can be fun, not a life-or-death experience. We have become frightened and turned off by the messiness of human interaction and the process of creating something new.”
“The two halves of the heart pump with and against each other. This dynamic interplay might look pretty volatile to the human eye, but the body knows that that level of assertiveness is necessary to keep the system healthy and vital.”
“We are seeing a shift to cyber and economic warfare. The techniques may change, but the primitive impulse for war has not. And while we may have peace treaties, we are not seeing the global cooperation needed to sustain life.”
“If only hanging out with people who already agree with you were going to solve our problems, we would have already solved them.”
(Quoting Gabor Maté): “Safety is not the absence of danger; safety is the presence of connection.”
Image by Kevin Dooley, used under provisions of Creative Commons Attribution License 2.0.
As mentioned in a previous post (see “A Network Leadership Institute Goes Virtual With an Appeal to the Senses”), this summer, the core convening team of Food Solutions New England was able to attend a number of different trainings to heighten the team’s awareness and facility around issues of trauma and racialized trauma. This was made possible through the generosity and understanding of the Angell Foundation, which has supported FSNE in offering the Network Leadership Institute since 2016. Last year, in light of COVID, the calls for reckoning and repair, and so much uncertainty, along with the very place-based nature of the Institute to that point, we elected not to jump into the virtual fray. Instead we took a step back, and had some deeper conversations about the future of the NLI, what we had learned over the past years, how we wanted to evolve the offering, and what new capacities we needed as a team and broader network.
Now we are poised to offer the 5th Institute over the next six months (September 2021-February 2022), anchored in 6 day-long virtual sessions, complete with many of the same components we have had in the past: (1) community and relationship building, (2) grounding in the history and present work of the Food Solutions New England Network, (3) meeting and hearing from other food system leaders and change agents in our region, (4) sharing practices to cultivate personal and collective resilience, and (5) developing deeper collaborative and networked capacity to realize justice, equity, sustainability, and democracy in our regional food system. In addition to these six sessions, we will offer a number of optional inter-session gatherings, in the early evening, with either a cooking demo, relevant movie (such as Gather and Homecoming), or special speaker.
We enter into this year’s offering knowing that the baseline for our work is connection and care. And thanks to Jerrilyn Dixson and team at Progressive Therapy, LLC out of Jackson, MS, Cultural Somatics Institute, Class Action and Quabbin Mediation, we have more enhanced sensibilities related our collective work for equity and well-being. What appears below are some of the lessons that we are bringing to this year’s Institute, and all the on-line gathering work of FSNE.
3 Realms of ACEs (sources of child trauma)
Important overall learnings and take-aways…
Class is not just wealth; class is about a combination of resources + culture (status/power/education, etc.)
Class can be a driver for anxiety, stress, comparison, confusion, shame, inner resistance …
The levels of classism can mirror and connect to the levels of racism (internalized, interpersonal, institutional and structural).
Harm-doing can take many different forms, including: racism, sexism, misgendering, aggression, unpaid labor, miscommunication, exploitation, abuse …
At least 70% of people have had at least 1 traumatic experience; thus, trauma is the norm, not the anomaly
6 core principles of trauma-informed care: safety, trustworthiness and transparency; peer support and mutual help; collaboration and mutuality; empowerment, voice and choice; attention to cultural, historical and gender issues
“Trauma happens when people feel disconnected,” not seen, heard or valued.
Connection is the energy that exists between people when they feel seen, heard and values and when they give and receive without judgment.
Challenging behaviors are almost always about creating connection and/or safety, even if that doesn’t seem to be what’s going on to the outside observer of the behavior
The concept of “protest behaviors” — these are things people do to get what they need to feel connected, when not getting their needs met. These show up in all different kinds of ways — be on the lookout.
Fight/flight/freeze/fawn reactions — protest behaviors vary based on which one of these reactions you are wired for — learn to recognize and respond accordingly.
“People who experienced trauma often do not do well with [unexpected] change.”
“Overwhelm can look like rage.”
Harm doers can be trying to meet basic needs, but not in ways that are not helpful.
Inhibitors of addressing harm-doing can include fear, confusion, diffusion of responsibility and danger.
Not intervening in harm-doing can engender vicious cycles of disengagement and disregard. Being an “active bystander” can, on the other hand, create virtuous cycles of care and connection.
Basic needs include feeling safe and secure, and having control over what’s important to us. There is little chance of learning if these aren’t being met.
“Helping one person might not change the world, but it could change the world for one person.”
Quabbin Mediation
Practices to consider …
Be aware of language used and how it might help people connect or lead to disconnection =on the basis of class and other aspects of their identity.
At the beginning of a session, invite people to come up with an image that helps them to feel connection and belonging, to which they can return.
Consider integrating “morning risers” into group sessions that invite people (optionally) to do mindful box breathing, shoulder rolls, and/or head rolls.
Ask what participants already associate with/know about a particular topic before presenting material as a way to encourage self-reflection and openness to material.
Create opportunities for people to tell their stories, and more about what is important to them, including their values .
Invite people to name themselves (including on Zoom) and add identifiers (such as pronouns) that are meaningful to them.
Make sure to offer assistance with technology and do not assume, or convey the assumption, that everyone is comfortable with any given technology or technique.
Build community agreements collaboratively and by consensus.
Ask people to name any accessibility needs, discomforts and triggers (this could be done in a survey and/or during group activity).
Create safe and soothing space (white noise to drown out distracting noise or to let people know that what they are sharing is not carrying beyond the room, soft/relaxing music, natural imagery, calming scents)
Be aware of your own triggers as a trainer/facilitator/coach – realize it isn’t the person, it is the action andthe interaction. Recognize, take a break. Have a code between facilitators for when one of us is triggered and needs to step out to re-regulate.
Consider having a “3rd party” (not one of the facilitators) that a participant can talk toif there is a perception that the challenge lies with the facilitation approach.
Use a grounding/re-connecting exercise or opportunity after a challenging moment or episode of disconnection in a group (breathing, movement, shaking, tapping, etc.).
Use a scale of 1-10 for mood check/how people are entering or leaving space. Use a scale of 1-10 on how connected you as facilitator feel to [the group or the topic we are working on today.
Invite people to make themselves feel comfortable as participants (bring fidget toys, food, water, something that makes them feel at home).
Pay attention to the choices of colors, images, etc, in the slides that you use.
Create some predictability and transparency by sharing goals and the agenda of a session in advance, along with timeframes, roles, expectations and any supplies/materials needed.
Stay online 15-30 minutes after a session for anyone who would like to talk more.
Agree on a hand gesture signal that allows people to take space as needed (i.e. when they want to leave the room to use restroom or take an unscheduled break).
Consider structuring in identity-based caucuses. Give them topics and structure. Use when needed or desired.
Use entry passwords, and make sure everyone in the group can get easy access to them, for virtual settings, ensuring that all feel it is literally a safe space
Apprise guest speakers of group agreements, before they show up and brief them on the vibe/pet peeves. Let the group know this is being done to demonstrate you value the trust-based environment you are trying to create.
Have mental-emotional-spiritual health and support resources information available.
Should things get volatile with someone who is triggered, reflect back (name the behavior), create space for them to be heard, do not take it personally and check your privilege …
Be ready to recognize if an individual is not ready for the group or program (and vice versa) after employing all of these practices. No one person is bigger than the mission/goal. Have procedures in place for non-compliance that maintain the dignity of all.
Have a “consent/agreement” about actions that will be taken should challenges arise, including the possibility of determining the program is not the right fit for participant. “In the event of a conflict or a feeling of harm being done, here are [2-3] ways to start the process of addressing or resolving the issue. If, even after these efforts, the challenges remain, we may collectively decide that this program is not a good fit for your needs….”
Photo by Denise Cross, used under provisions of Creative Commons Attribution License 2.0.
“Non-violence is the constant awareness of the dignity and humanity of oneself and others. Non-violence is a courageous acceptance of active love and goodwill as the instrument with which to overcome evil and transform both oneself and others.”
Wally Nelson, African American civil rights and peace activist (1909-2002)
Image from Monica Secas, used under provisions of Creative Commons Attribution License 2.0.
“True belonging is the spiritual practice of believing in and belonging to yourself so deeply that you can share your most authentic self with the world and find sacredness in both being a part of something and standing alone in the wilderness. True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are.”
Picture, “Waiting,” by Judy Dean, shared under provisions of Creative Commons Attribution license 2.0.
“We have two ears and one mouth, so we should listen more than we say.”
— Zeno of Citium
The other day I was reminded of the group working agreement “W.A.I.T.” (which stands for, “Why am I talking?”) as a guideline for people to be mindful of sharing air time in discussions. Since then I have been taking fresh note of my own inclinations and motives to not only talk in discussions, but also to share on social media. And as I have done this, I have also been more curious about what motivates others to share, verbally, in written and other forms. What are they thinking? Are they thinking about other people? If so, who? Have they thought through possible impacts? What do they care about?
I am a big fan of and subscriber to The Christian Science Monitor, which publishes a weekly digest of updates and perspectives on things happening around the globe, including (perhaps radical for these times) “bright spots” and “points of progress.” The editors and writers of Monitor articles also have a wonderful practice of publishing a little blurb for each offering under the heading “Why we wrote this.” How refreshing! What if all “news outlets” were to do this, or at least pause and ask this before writing and publishing/speaking?
And what if we were to do this in our different networks and communities? Might this help to break some of the spirals of othering and outrage (not to mention challenge the algorithms behind our growing social dilemma)? And shy of this, might the practice of W.A.I.T.ing or mindful and intentional sharing (viewed perhaps more generatively as “nourishing”) help people deliver on the promise of “network effects” to take communities and societies in a more prosocial direction?
I am currently working with two organizations over the course of 2021 to help staff and partners develop more networked ways of thinking and acting/being. Recently we had a discussion about how to keep the staff more up to date with respect to one another’s network weaving activities (connections made, crucial take-aways, immediate next steps) and also share other interesting content and connections. Trying to strike the right balance between radio silence and deluge, we started exploring how implementing the W.A.I.T/S. (Why am I talking/sharing?) prime might help. Along the way, a couple of people said that W.A.I.T/S. might also stand for “Why aren’t I talking/sharing?” and encourage the otherwise less inclined (for various reasons) to reconsider. This is stimulating rich conversation about how to tend and modulate important flows in various systems (organizational, community, school, etc.) to support learning, resilience, alignment, equity, emergence, coordinated action …
All this to say, whatever our goal(s) may be, it could be important to … W.A.I.T for it. This is how less conscious and helpful sharing (and silence) might become a practice of care-full curation (making thoughtful offers to and requests – sharing and caring can also include asking questions! – of one’s communities).
Last week (which already feels like last month) was very rich with learning and interaction, including the opportunity to share space with indigenous leaders, elders, and diverse network weavers as we explored what it means to create pathways to just and regenerative futures (to me and others with whom I partner, regenerative futures must be just by definition, but I separate them here as there is much conversation about regeneration that seems to bypass considerations of injustice and marginalization).
In a gathering hosted during the Catalyst 2030 Catalysing Change week on indigenous wisdom, network weaving and regenerative futures, colleagues and I shared about our own rites of passage that have opened us up to feeling the pain and potential in the world. Elder Joshua Konkankoh shared the powerful story of his childhood initiation in the “spiritual forest” in Cameroon, through which he came to understand how to live into his name, along with his current banishment from his homeland because of his work on alternative education models and eco-villages. Others of us, raised in North America and Europe, spoke to initiations in the form of political awareness and conflict, personal (family and health) challenges, cultural encounters, and being broken open by Mother Nature. And we invited participants, which included those joining from Asia and South America, to share about the ways in which they have been called to align their lives with Life and liveliness.
As we were engaged in this heartfelt exploration, I thought of Tyson Yunkaporta’s reflections on the power of rites of passage in indigenous cultures, and what has been lost in Westernized development and education. Yunkaporta once described initiation as helping young people to find their place in the world by first letting them know “they are not that special.” That said, they are guided to understand that “they are part of something special.” And within that sacralized context, young people are shown that they have something unique to offer in service of that larger whole (what I think of “essence” as I have learned from one of my teachers, Carol Sanford). This is what results, according to Yunkaporta, in an indigenous progression of encounter with the world that goes from “Respect to Connect to Reflect to Direct.” In non-Indigenous cultures, without initiation and this sense of the sacred, the progression is reversed – first Direct, then Reflect, then Connect, then Respect (if at all), often with dire consequences!
Then towards the end of the week, I continued work with a state-wide conservation organization, partnering with Andrea Akall’eq Burgess, a Yup’ik educator and activist. During our session, Andrea spoke beautifully to the work of “decolonizing” and “indigenizing” conservation (and really many other systems – education, food, health, politics, etc.) in order to get to equitable resilience and thriving (my words). While there is no blueprint or checklist for this work, she shared that it must begin with truth-telling about the history of oppression and the ongoing policing and criminalization of indigenous ways. This reckoning, along with respect and repair, is part of what it means to establish “right relationship,” which is in itself an ongoing regenerative practice. And this reminds me of the work of the First Light initiative in this region, to “build awareness and understanding about Wabanaki land loss in Maine, to develop and practice equitable principles for Native engagement, and to create new tools to share land and resources.” All of this moving at the speed of sacred trust.
So much to consider, and let move through our bodies, emotions and thinking … and always curious to know what is moving for you!
