Happy Fireplace, I mean Father's Day!!

It turns out that I will always have to live in a place that has a fireplace or at least a hearth. The reason isn't one you might expect. Yes, I do love a warm, crackling fire on a crisp autumn day, but for me a fireplace means a little bit more than that.

When I was a kid, the fireplace served four major functions:
1. It was a place for actual fire- an effort to create warmth and/or ambiance
2. It was a table for those lucky few occasions when a special seasonal show like "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown!" or when a Miss America Pageant was on television and Dutch and I got to eat dinner in the living room and watch. We still call the hearth "the fireplace table".
3. It was staging for dramatic performance: poetry recitation, play acting, and, I'm embarrassed to say, for serious concert reenactment, specifically attempts at singing stylized versions of songs originally sung by the likes of Amy Grant, Debbie Gibson or Tiffany while perhaps miming parts of the chorus to add further emotional implication that may have been missed by simply sharing the lyrics.
(I would like to take this opportunity to formally apologize for that, family. I'm so, so SO sorry!)
4. It was, most importantly, a focal point venue for hosting every celebration known to man; a.k.a. a party on the hearth. My mother must have spent tireless hours hanging bunting, balloons, signs (birthday, graduation, congratulations, Valentines Day, Fourth of July, Flag Day, Easter, Welcome Tooth Fairy!, etc.), crepe paper streamers and bows on the surround of our old brick fireplace. She would place whatever gift or basket or reward on the hearth so that on a noteworthy day, we would stumble into the living room, eyes still bleary from sleep, and find - "What!? Surprise! The whole room is celebrating this most special occasion! I feel so incredibly valued and/or important!" or "Look! the Easter bunny/Tooth Fairy/ Santa Claus came! I can't believe my good fortune!" Or something similar.

A decorated fireplace really was a special treat every time, even though we knew it was coming and, as snarky teenagers, felt an expectation about it. It was a thoughtful, concrete reminder of how loved we were. That's what we loved about it.

Because of this, I don't understand how families who don't have a fireplace cope. I mean, where do they leave gifts? How do they acknowledge their loved  ones on days like today - Father's Day?

I suppose this post should be about Rich - and what an amazing Dad he is to Jack. There is no one in the world better at being Jack's Dad or my partner. No one! And because I want to fully acknowledge how important and valuable Rich is to our family, I'm in the process of hanging streamers on the fireplace surround and making a paper banner with poorly crafted bubble letters that read, "Happy Father's Day!"

An Introduction to Activism

I went to the meeting…with the sincere hope that I would see a different side of activism – one that mirrors the super heroes of historical myth, the men and women whom we laud as being brave enough to stand up to their oppressors and fight for those in need, who resuscitate what injustice has injured. … I’m glad I went to this meeting.

Last night I attended my first real activist meeting. When I say attended, what I mean to say is I sat in the circle and absorbed. “My name is Ginger and I am here to participate by listening.” That’s what I managed to squeak out, feigning a smile, when I was put on the spot by the live stream camera operator, microphone pointing towards me. 

In a way I was really nervous to attend because I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. My only other encounters with activists, other than with Mark – crazy, confident, poetically eloquent intellect – were more like psycho-sociological case studies that tended to support the very popular notion that activists are hippy-dippy crazies whose agendas include taking away your tax dollars while adamantly refusing to bathe. 

One week, for example, I did mission work with a man in Chicago who insisted on literally carrying a life-sized cross (on wheels) everywhere he went. Then there was the time I skipped my way into Parliament Square on one of my many pilgrimages to London and encountered the late Brian Haw whose infamous “Stop the War” protest camp seemed a lovely and legitimate sacrifice. But in the moment I actually attempted dialogue with him to learn more– another instance that began, “Hi. My name is Ginger..”  - he began shouting insults and injuries at me in such a way that I retreated- ran actually- along the River Thames all the way to Blackfriars. 

When I finally made my appearance in the Occupy London Stock Exchange Camp weeks after the vast majority of protestors went home, I found I was just in time to have supper with folks who shared their notions of aliens landing in the form of Egyptian slave masters, capitalist bankers as they are more commonly known in modern society, who with their All-Seeing Sirius Eye will soon blast the common folk into oblivion on the date prophesied: December 17, 2042.. or something like that. To be fair, they were generous enough to share their meager meal from the mess tent with me. So that was nice.

You might possibly understand, now, my overwhelming insecurity about attending an activist meeting.

In addition to feeling concerned about the other participants, I was unsure about what it said about me – that I could potentially alienate myself from what I consider normal. What would my friends and family think? What would it mean to my colleagues? What was my responsibility concerning my students and my authority in the classroom? Was I willing to be labeled a “hippy-dippy activist”? 

I went to the meeting last night partly out of curiosity and partly with the sincere hope that I would see a different side of activism – one that mirrors the super heroes of historical myth, the men and women whom we laud as being brave enough to stand up to their oppressors and fight for those in need, who resuscitate what injustice has injured. Plus, I’ve spent a lot of time defending activists and their right to voice and give credence to a different way of living, one that considers the possibility that life can be better than the current structures that confine us. I’m glad I went to this meeting.

At least twenty people assembled last night at a little bistro coffee shop in North London. In fact, so many showed up that twice the meeting had to be moved so as not to be a fire hazard. I learned there is a structure to these meetings and that agendas are decided by a wholly democratic process. First, introduce yourselves and speak briefly about why you are in attendance. When done, an appointed moderator who has taken good notes during the introductions suggests an organized, bulleted agenda based on what the majority of the folks hope for.

 Last night the majority hoped to learn more about and discuss the concept of Commoning, a term that, best I can tell, is a political strategy revolving around sharing resources (commodities and economy, yes, but also values) for the common good of a community. This was suggested as the possible future step and offering of the Occupy Movement to people as a solution to the perceived stagnation of the cause.

After a lengthy discussion on Commoning, some sharing definitive ideas of what it should look like and conversely, commentary on how some of those ideas were perhaps too narrow, we moved to agenda item two – organizing a general assembly for the 16^th of June, an important day as someone pointed out because it coincides with a day of pot banging – literally when protestors hit their cooking pots with wooden spoons, effectively making a loud sound in protest. The particular pot banging on the 16th is in response to and in solidarity with those opposed to a Quebec law (Bill 78) that limits protesting there[1].   This, I learned last night, is something that activists like to do: piggy back on other protests to both embolden and legitimize other activist movements while promoting their own. Plus it’s good publicity. 

So the ideas were laid out in the same democratic process that began the meeting. Whoever wanted the floor simply raised his or her forefinger and the moderator called on them, making certain everyone had a chance to speak. The circle responded to the speaker, silently agreeing by waving their hands in the air (the sign language gesture for applause) or disagreeing by inverting the gesture.  There were several “temperature checks” which meant that the meeting paused in order to give all of the participants a chance to wave their agreement that a plan was solid or that they liked the direction the meeting was heading. In this way a most civilized, salon type discussion unfolded. 

Many folks came with notes to share, highly intellectual rationales and reasoning. Clearly time and research had gone into the proposals. One man even shared Venn diagram charts. Some shared poetry and sentiments of the heart – the idea that communal trees stem from a soil of compassionate sharing, for example. Some added anecdotes. Some offered strategy, while others, like me, simply absorbed (though in a sense this was controversial because these types of meetings encourage and rely upon every single person’s opinion, a notion that was both lovely and intimidating to a newbie like me).

In the end, a call out[2] for the general assembly was organized for the 16^th. Guest speakers will be invited; breakout sessions will be organized; a PA system will be borrowed; and yes, there will probably be some pot banging. This is all in the works now. Watch this space!

Overall this meeting, though probably still a little overwhelming to anyone who hasn’t had the pleasure of being a part of a movement like Occupy, was such a gorgeous sharing. I am humbled by the idea that people want to come together to help others come together. 

Of course, there were eccentrics at the meeting and no shortage of dreadlocks. But overall, intelligent conversation, compassion and generosity won the day. I’m happy to have had the opportunity.

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[1] Jeff Heinrich, The Gazette: May 25, 2012 http://www.montrealgazette.com/business/banging+against+Bill+Quebec+limiting+protests+catching/6672798/story.html

[2] A call out is a networking system that uses social media - Facebook, twitter, internet  lists- to share the general goals of the assembly with an invitation to participate. This is done to help create the itinerary for the day.