Over the past few years, I have had the privilege of getting to know and work with food justice advocates in the state of Mississippi through the Mississippi Food Justice Collaborative and the Mississippi Food Policy Council. On two occasions, as a part of visits to Jackson, Mississippi, I’ve had the opportunity to go on the wonderful civil rights tour provided by Frank Figgers. Mr. Figgers is a graduate of Tougaloo College, where he worked with the Jackson Human Rights Project, founded by Howard Spencer, a SNCC field organizer and former civil rights worker. While working with the Jackson Human Rights Project, Mr. Figgers met, worked with, and developed relationships with other former civil rights workers. He is an absolutely captivating storyteller, who has filled in many gaps in my own historical knowledge, and provided numerous corrections to the education I received.
Touring Jackson, we made stops at a number of different historical landmarks, including the Smith Roberston Museum and Cultural Center (once Smith Robertson Elementary School, the first public school for African-American children in Jackson), the Farish Street Historical District (known as a hub for Black-owned businesses up until the 1970s), the Greyhound bus station at 219 North Lamar Street (where many arrests were made during the 1961 Freedom Rides), Tougaloo College (established by descendants of slaves aboard the Amistad and an institution that has at the forefront of the Civil Rights Movement in Mississippi), and Medgar and Myrlie Evers Home National Historical Monument (where Medgar Evers was fatally shot in 1963). Mr. Figgers narrated key and often dramatic events while those of us in the large van he was driving listened intently and as if we were watching events play out in front of us.
Exhibits inside the Mississippi Civil Rights Museum
A common refrain that Mr. Figgers used, in pointing out how “everyday people” stepped up to fight for their and other’s rights amidst oppression and violence was – “They did what they could, with what they had, where they were.” As he said this, he scanned our faces in the back of the van, his eyes widening behind his glasses, and then smiled as a final point of exclamation. Even in the face of truly terrorizing circumstances, people stood up. They stood up. They did something. So many acts of tremendous courage, large and small. So many people, everyday people, finding ways. Making ways.
“They did what they could, with what they had, where they were.”
Something about those words continued to work through me, and so was the case for others who were on the tour, as we talked about it later. They’ve been echoing in my head more loudly recently, as I feel the strain in my body and mind related to escalating challenges and suffering around us.
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Another story recently came to mind as Mr. Figgers’ words have been working on me. Not long out of college, I created and ran a youth service program for middle and high school students in upstate New York. My first summer organizing the program was spent in the most rural and economically poorest part of the county where I was based. We had assembled a group of about ten middle schoolers who were motivated to help others or simply looking for something to do with their time in the summer months. We got involved with the local food pantry, learned a lot about hunger in the county and country, did some painting and cleaning work on a couple of historical buildings needing love and care, and made ourselves available to those in the community unable to do certain things for themselves.
About mid-way through the summer, as more people heard about our work, we received a call about an elderly woman who was legally blindand lived by herself. The town works department was coming to her house to fix some sewage pipes and in the process of digging up a portion of her back yard to do so, they were going to have to take down a few of her young fruit trees out back. Could we come and move them for her, a neighbor who was calling on her behalf wondered? The youth were very eager to assist, and on a blistering hot day we arrived with gloves on and shovels ready. Approaching the house I gasped a little – the structure looked like it was held together by little more than hope. We met the woman outside. She wore darkened glasses and was leaning on a walker. She welcomed us and promptly guided us to the trees out back. After some basic instructions, we got to work and spent a few hours digging holes, moving and watering trees, packing soil, adding some fertilizer, and then – with sweat pouring down our faces – felt satisfied that the job was complete.
The woman was delighted and, smiling behind her darkened lenses, asked if she could give us something in return. Without waiting for an answer she told us to follow her. We went inside her house and she waved us in the direction of the door behind her where we found the stairs to her cellar. We were then instructed to flick the switch at the top of stairs, descend, and “pick anything you like.” The kids and I looked at each other, a little uncertain. I went ahead and led the way. Once at the bottom of the creaky stairs, we looked around to see dust-covered shelves on all sides of a single unfinished room, completely packed with jars. Jars full of fruits, vegetables, jams, and pickled this-and-that. Hundreds of jars.We were completely floored. After taking a few minutes to absorb the incredible array, we each selected a jar that looked good to us and went back up stairs.
“You do all of that?” one of the girls asked once we were all gathered back in her kitchen.
“Yup,” said the woman, matter-of-factly.
“And you gonna eat all of that?” asked one of the boys.
The woman laughed. “Oh no,” she said. “I send most of those to the needy.”
There was silence in the kitchen as we worked that over in our minds.
She continued. “I give them to people in my church to send to people overseas who are hungry or experiencing difficulties like earthquakes.”
The kids nodded, clearly still working that through in their minds.
Well, let’s just say that gave us a lot to talk about during our van ride back to the kids’ homes. Despite all appearances, this elder, officially living at the poverty level, legally blind and physically limited, was doing what she could, with what she had, where she was.
A nice coda to the story is that the kids decided they wanted to learn how to do canning themselves and wondered if the woman would teach them. I reached out through the neighbor, the woman agreed, and we ended up donating what we produced (fruit jams) to the local food pantry where we had begun our summer of service work.
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I am not going to lie. There are days when I feel completely overwhelmed. I look at what I see as the challenges we face in this country and world and I wonder, “How on earth…? It’s too much! It’s just too much.” And then I think of Mr. Figgers and the everyday people of the historical and current day civil rights movement in Mississippi and other places. And I think of “The Canning Lady,” (as she came to be called by the kids in our service group), and so many others like her that do what they can everyday with whatever they have wherever and however they are. And that’s enough to eventually right me.
Part of this righting is remembering is that it is not just about me! It is about doing my part, making the contribution(s) that I can make. To riff on a phrase I often use in supporting the creation of social change networks, it’s also about “doing my best, and then connecting to and trusting the rest.” That’s why I am such a big fan of networks, of making more loving links between people and places. Imagine more of us doing what we can, where we are, with what we have, and weaving it all into something larger. Something even more beautiful. As a poet once said, we might just make a world like that.
The Food Solutions New England 21 Day Racial Equity Habit Building Challenge for 2021 is moving into its last week and shifting from the theme of “Reckon and Repair” to “Regenerate.” And it just so happens that the Revolutionary Love Conference happened this past weekend, providing amazing array of speakers, deep wisdom, inspiration and what feels like a rich transition that aligns with where the Challenge is heading (both thematically and in its encouragement of learning and action that takes its thousands of participants from 21 days to 365). This year’s theme of Revolutionary Love was “The Courage to Reimagine,” and while I was not able to attend all of the gathering, what I did catch was nourishing, and the social media stream (#RevLove21 on Twitter) was on the best kind of fire. What follows is a harvest of 21 quotes from the presentations and conversations.
“We have become a people who accept racism and poverty as conditions, when they are actually crises.” – Rev. Traci Blackmon
“We all know someone who is more outraged by Colin Kaepernick’s knee than Derek Chauvin’s… No one hates like a Christian who’s just been told their hate isn’t Christian.” – John Fugelsang
“Public confession without meaningful transformation does nothing.” – Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg
“Too often, our framing of God prevents us from moving toward a just society—just as capitalism uses theological vocabulary but centers predatory self-interest.” – Otis Moss, III
“How can we retrain the eye to see all others as part of us, one human family. We can train our eyes to look upon the face of anyone and say, ‘You are a part of me I do not yet know. I will open myself to your story. I will let your grief into my heart.” – Valarie Kaur
“White people need to stop being white and start being ethnic again. When you leave the US no one is seeing you and saying “Oh hey you’re white!” They’ll want to know where you’re from, ethnicity carries stories – what is your STORY?” – Otis Moss, III
“I would like to get rid of words like inclusion and say democratization. I’d like for us to get rid of words like diversity and say democratization.” – Ruby Sales
“We must demand a society that will not withhold from others that which we would not want withheld from ourselves.” – Dean Kelly Brown Douglas
“I want white evangelicals to stop talking about reconciliation and talk about justice and repair.” – Robert P. Jones
“I want to stand as a bulwark that things can be different, even in the most stalwart, white supremacist, bigoted families.” – Rev. Rob Lee
“Change is possible when we stop seeing others as needy and start seeing each other as necessary.” – Rev. Traci Blackmon
“Speaking truth to power isn’t only about taking on the President or the GOP, it’s also about taming the power of our own ego.” -Irshad Manji
“Too often, our acts of moral courage go unacknowledged—even by ourselves. We don’t realize the impact we have on others who observe us, and benefit from small mundane acts of resistance in the face of unimaginable daily horror.” – Wajarahat Ali
“I love my enemies for purely selfish reasons. It moves me toward a cure for the life-denying disease of returning hate for hatred. Love may lead to defeat. It may lead to death. But it will not let hatred have the final word.” – Dr. Miguel De La Torre
“White relatives, we’re not asking for a handout of charity. This [reparations] is an invitation—a lifeline to your own humanity and liberation.” – Edgar Villaneuva
“This is a time of reckoning and reconstruction, and policy is my love language. . . . There’s been hurt and harm legislated for generations. Long before our pandemic, our nation was already in crisis.” – Ayanna Pressley
“What would you do? What would you risk, if you truly saw no stranger? How will you fight with us? … It is the practice of a community, and we all have a different role in the work at any given time.” – Valarie Kaur
“Love is always asking: How do I tell this truth and still stay in relationship?” – Krista Tippett
“Think of how much change we leave on the table when we assume that the other will never see things from our point of view, so we must get in their face and humiliate them. Think of how much social change we may be leaving on the table.” – Irshad Manji
“There are so many awesome people in every political party, every demographic of age, sexuality, gender, etc. – these awesome people have GOT to find each other.” – Van Jones
“Racism is a putrid, festering hole in our nation’s soul, and that will only change when we have the courage to love a different way. That love must become an everyday spiritual practice, like flossing or brushing our teeth.” – Dr. Rev. Jacqui Lewis
I can’t remember exactly where I saw the phrase recently, but I latched onto it. “Connections change what is connected.” So true. And this is a reason to seriously consider the power and promise of building networks for social change.
In our mainstream culture it seems that many people tend to look at things in isolation, without appreciating that context and relationship have so much to say about the nature of … well, everything. Think about the following examples: Read More
One of my mantras around network building and social change is that creating greater (and new forms of) connectivity is not simply a “so that” or a “nice to have” but is really an “as” and critical to the work of systems and structural change. This is echoed is some way, shape or form in many of the posts that appear in this space, and I think it bears repeating. Consider the following:
“Whether we learn how to love ourselves and others will depend on the presence of a loving environment. Self-love cannot flourish in isolation.”
bell hooks
Isolation can kill. Science shows how loneliness and social isolation can ravage the body and brain. As noted in an article in The New Rebublic – “A partial list of the physical diseases thought to be caused or exacerbated by loneliness would include Alzheimer’s, obesity, diabetes, high blood pressure, heart disease, neurodegenerative diseases, and even cancer.” And who are the lonely? In many cases the poor, the bullied and oppressed, the “different.” When we consider how isolation can impact genes, we see how the cycles of poverty and oppression can play out at a fundamental psychobiological level. What this calls for, in part, is work that reconnects those who are currently in isolation and on the margins from/of myriad social goods including emotional support, tangible services and other critical resources.
Disconnection breeds irresponsible behavior and prejudice. Science is helping us to understand the role of implicit bias in all of our lives and in society. Furthermore, the work of people like Paul Piff shows how those with considerable privilege who isolate from the rest of society (and keep to their own) tend to lose touch with empathy and any sense of egalitarianism. As my colleague Cynthia Parker notes, “Engaging with people unlike ourselves in situations that involve meaningful activity [and] counter-stereotypic experiences” helps to eliminate biases. In other words keeping and strengthening direct connection is a key part of the work for equity and democracy.
University of California researcher, Paul Piff, and his colleagues have been studying privilege.
In one study, they set up a rigged game of monopoly. The players who had been randomly assigned to get more money and other advantages began to demonstrate some disturbing differences from the other players. They began to move their pieces around the board more loudly, displayed “signs of dominance and nonverbal displays of power and celebration,” ate more pretzels, and came “ruder, less and less sensitive to the plight of the poor players, and more likely to showcase how well they were doing.” After the game, the rich players attributed their success to their skills and strategy, not the systematic advantages they had over the other player, even though they knew the advantages were real and were randomly assigned.
In a rigged game of Monopoly, denial of unearned privilege has few consequences, but what about in the rigged game called life?
“Somebody’s gotta tell them, that we are not ghosts, that we are in this city and we are alive!”
– Jessica Care Moore
Feeling nostalgic, shaken, stirred, and inspired during my current trip to Michigan, and my first return visit to my hometown of Flint in 15 years. So much here has changed: foreclosures – 2,000 last year alone, 40% of all property parcels in the city are vacant or abandoned, jobs have disappeared now to the point of 25% unemployment, 36% of all residents live in poverty, half of the student population in the public schools has left in the last 10 years resulting in numerous school closings including my high school, of those students that remain 81% qualify for free lunch. And the flip side, there are anchor institutions, physical landmarks, and stalwart active citizens (thank you, Sylvester Jones and Harold Ford, among others!) that remain and provide some sense of backbone, continuity, and hope. Read More
I made it out to #occupywallstreet last Friday night. Here is how my experience unfolded:
1. Culture Shock
I’m into showers, they’re not. I’m in my mid-thirties, grew up in a working class Puerto Rican community and I’ve been yupified over the years. I didn’t see a lot of people of color and I wasn’t feeling the vibe. I wondered how people from my community could ever make a link to this crowd. I was welcomed to walk around, curiously browsing, checking out the scene, the art and the people.
I’m the one that’s all shook up. I’m just getting back from doing some very powerful work with Reading Village in Guatemala and I’m still processing the experience. It is difficult not to be overwhelmed by the sheer scale of poverty and palpability of oppression. I come back with images of the smiles of an incredibly resilient Mayan people and I can not understand how they have withstood five centuries of aggression. It is in this context that we were called to do our work. Read More
Haiti. I’m sure I’m not the only one who watches with profound sadness at the loss of life and devastation by way of natural disaster and makes direct comparisons to the Hurricane Katrina tragedy and its blow to the precious people of New Orleans.
I’m writing from the Opportunity Collaboration, and anti-poverty convening in Ixtapa, Mexico. It has been quite an experience and while we are working with powerful content, I want to write about process. This has not been a conference! About 260 delegates have been convened in a beautiful resort to tackle the problem of poverty from a relatively diverse set of approaches and outlooks, ranging from philanthropy to micro-finance, nonprofits and other social ventures.
Groups of 20 delegates come together 2 hours each morning in what has been titled the Colloquium for the Common Good. This is the common conversation we are having throughout the convening as we are invited to reflect on our values and why we do this work. I have been honored to serve as facilitator for one of these groups and I am quite impressed by the depth of our conversations.