mountain mama

It's deliciously warm and I'm sitting on my porch looking at the mountains. It'd be devastating to the area if these mountains were developed (which is always in discussion). Worse, of course, much worse, would be if these mountains were mined. There is a depressing little drive along the back of them where cement factories have already scarred the landscape dramatically.

But that's just what's going to happen to the mountain that my father grew up on in West Virginia. It's been chosen for a mountaintop removal site. They'll be mining coal, as has always been the case in poor, incredibly beautiful West Virginia.
MTR, mountaintop removal mining, is an extreme form of mining, causing dramatic and irreversible topographical and ecological changes. The top 1,000 feet of a mountain is removed to expose veins of coal. The "waste" is dumped in the nearest valley, creating flat land where mountains were. No vegetation survives, but a lot of waste does, and this sludge is stored in open dams. A "benefit" (besides energy) that is touted for MTR is the creation of flat land where none was before.

If anyone talked to the hill people living there, they'd know that "flatlanders" is a mocking term, not a compliment. But no one is asking the residents. They don't think they have to, because these people are poor. Very poor. They'll be grateful for a temporary mine job, right?
With all the garbage about clean coal" floating around the news these days, people who know nothing of the Appalachians might actually believe it is something that exists. People who've lived near mines and have worked in mines know better. Mortality rates are already higher than the rest of the country in rural West Virginia, but studies show that the rate is due as much to coal mining as to smoking and lack of access to health care. This week's big D.C. demo tried to bring the facts to light.

Rural, mountainous West Virginia may be poor, but it is incredibly lush. When I visited Clay Country as a pre-teen, I tried to declare the whole area a national park. The people who live there have a fierce loyalty to the land, their home, their way of life, and the mountains. My father moved away more than fifty years ago, and still gets the county newspaper. He visited the site of his childhood home this past summer, knowing it might be the last time he saw his mountain intact.
Outsiders like to think that these poor, mountain people are backwards. But they sure do like to look at pictures of them, read about their troubles, listen to their banjo music, and romanticize what it would be like to live in the deep country.

Among my grad school regrets are that I didn't take a colleague up on the offer to join her on a trip to visit with various W.V. artists she worked with. I may never see my father's mountain again, either.

Clay Country newspaper from my dad.
"Three generation of Holcombs" photo by Shelby Lee Adams.
Demonstration photo from Coal River Mountain Watch.
Bird house by Charley Wise.

scruples

(and a merit badge for community building)

I'd intended a while back to give Lagusta an abovegroundpool merit badge for being a sharp, funny, kickass, feminist, vegan, local chef extraordinaire, and sharing that experience with the rest of us. But hadn't gotten around to it.

I've been distracted from writing the entry by the fact that my friend is being beaten up, and from figuring out steps to take to prevent things from escalating. I don't want her to be murdered, I don't want her to continue suffering through beatings, and I don't want this guy to hurt anyone else. What I've learned talking to the lovely people at domestic hotlines is that I can't be the one to end it.

Years ago I had a horrible weekend with friends in CT. The whole setting was confusing to me. I was both attracted to and repulsed by the plush lifestyle I was experiencing, where it was okay (and even encouraged) for a pack of adult friends to raid the house, eat and drink and use everything in it, do nothing more important than play badminton and swim in the private lake, and run the well dry. I was meeting one of my friends' little sister for the first time. This fourteen year old girl (again rich, not underprivileged) lived on a diet of morning-after pills, wore pants that were so tight and low that her pubic hair always showed (the tiny bit that hadn't been shaved), and had no interest at all in engaging with any of the [queer] women or gay boys assembled. She only wanted to talk to [straight] boys that were attracted to her and she kept inviting over, but didn't even seem interested in them. I didn't learn much about why she was dour and self-destructive, but it really set a vibe for the weekend. I remember this was the first time I ever saw an episode of Sex in the City, and in this setting, sitting next to this poor girl, who, by the way, I didn't like, but did empathize with, was completely unable to find any humor in the show. I'm sooo not anti-sex, nor anti clothing that someone thinks they might look sexy in. I don't pretend kids aren't sexual. But it messed me up to see this kid so bitter about [clearly unsatisfying] sex already, so defined by it. She isn't alone, of course, but meeting her set the stage for the rest of the weekend.

Toward the end, we played the game Scruples. Round after round, I learned things I wished I'd never had about these people I thought were smart, I thought I liked. The guy I knew best of this crowd ended the game by admitting he hadn't intervened, or called anyone else to intervene, when he once overheard a woman being brutally attacked. After a futile argument that bewildered me, (It wouldn't change anything. I didn't even know her.) I had to leave. It's very possible that screaming woman was raped, beaten, or killed. I've never hung out with any of these people ever again.

Intervening, calling the cops, getting help quick, somehow, is the right thing to do in an emergency like the one my "friend" didn't respond to. From a domestic violence hotline I learned that when physical or sexual abuse is happening (to an adult), and it is not an immediate emergency, it is dangerous to call for intervention unless the victim is on board. If the victim is still seeing the perp, letting the perp into her* space, and he's* angered about being reported, he'll often hurt her worse than usual, or kill her. They recommend that, until she's ready to end the situation, to 1) Set up a code for emergencies; and 2) Keep a journal of incidents with times, dates, and details of the attacks, ideally with pictures of the visible injuries. Because of course the bulk of the injuries aren't visible.

I also recently read about pets in domestic violence situations. Like the people who stayed in their homes with their animals to try and weather Hurricane Katrina, people who are being abused often don't want to leave their animals behind, delaying getting help, most for months. Indeed, those animals often suffer at the hands of the same perps. There are some experimental domestic violence shelters that offer animals shelter as well. The animals have proven to be of great comfort to the women in the shelter where interviews took place. We all know the statistics showing that animal abusers often turn out to be abusive toward other people, too. Now we see that fear of animal abuse (like child abuse) often stops people from getting themselves out of dangerous situations.

And what does this have to do with a New Paltz blogger?

Well, I recently read her writing about the murder of a friend of hers, and that is part of what galvanized me to seek out professional help in dealing with my friend who is suffering. It's important, and also not the first time that Lagusta's writing has been inspiring to me. From discussions of how and why to make your own tempeh to making a bicycle-driven clothes washer, and this morning's reflection on the middle class environmentalist's failings when it comes to development discussions. It is really nice to know there's someone sane and passionate and articulate in the hood, sharing her experiences and thoughts in hopes of making her community/ies stronger.

I'm grateful for her generosity, her anger, her irreverence, and all the times I've cracked up reading her blog. Cuz we all really need that. (Oh yeah, she runs a vegan home meal delivery service and a vegan truffle business. But it's her writing I'm into at the moment.) So the repurposed "My Community" merit badge goes to Lagusta and her blog, Resistance is Fertile. Thanks for bringing your vegan eco feminist chef fury to the Hudson Valley and to the web!

*Obviously, these pronouns are interchangeable. Men hurt men and boys and girls, women hurt other women and girls and boys and men, trannies get hurt by men and women, etc., etc.

broke, eating meat

Will all this joblessness make people finally break down and grow veggies for dinner and collect rainwater off their roofs, or will it just make people hold up convenience stores with guns? (You know how sometimes crises make people deal with things they've long been putting off? Of course, some people just shut down and go ballistic.)

This goes out to all those people who don't go vegetarian because they don't give a crap about animals, or are "sympathetic" to animals but think they are superior to them. The Matt & Nat blog has a nice list for those who don't care about animals but do care about the environment (as if keeping those things exclusive of one-another is possible!). For those who need a non-veg source, here's the the facts & figures from a non-veg chef. There are the world poverty reasons to eat less meat. Then there are the environmental racism reasons, or concern for workers.

Yeah, yeah, there's health, too, but people seem to care about that as little as they care about animals. (Here's an article that puts them all together, just in case you do care about all these things. Enjoy your fresher food and your fresher water, even if you haven't got a nickel in your pocket!)

unplugged

The NYTimes can sometimes surprise: Their article about unplugging the refrigerator was only a little patronizing. Would it really kill us to chill our beer in the stream? Change our eating habits? Or quit milk, which seems to be everyone's hangup?

Kitchen towel by maltoodle.

domestics

Okay, so the apron is cute, but the fact that eco and animal activists are being considered terrorists is not so cute. That those concerned with the earth and animals are the "#1 domestic terrorism threat" according to the FBI is downright absurd. Sound like fiction? Read all about it at Green Is The New Red.

Activists sent to prison two years ago were the first convicted under (relatively) new legislation to crack down on environmental and animal advocates. In early January, SHAC7's appeal is scheduled, with the first chance in years to expose the cracks in the case built against them, as well as the chance to show the vagueness and unconstitutionality of the laws passed to protect animal enterprise. Unfortunately, the "justice" system being what it is, we won't know for months the tangible outcome of the appeal. But we will know if SHAC's lawyers have been able to reveal this sham case and the sham laws used to prosecute it for the first amendment violation that they are.

winter planting planning

Though it's 18 degrees outside, winter has barely started, and already my mailbox is filled with seed catalogs. They do know how to prey on us...planting is on my mind. Today I'm re-appreciating the work of Agnes Denes, who, back in the eighties, took urban gardening to another level by planting (and harvesting) a wheat field on a landfill in Manhattan. I'd seen images of that work before, but didn't know she'd gotten in early on tree planting mania, by reforesting areas in Australia and Finland. This is installation art of the best kind.

tool talk - ecofan

Somehow this desert rat ended up living in the frozen north. Well, not the most northern part of the world, nor the most frozen, but cold enough to make heating a big issue. Living in a big, old, drafty house that's heated by oil is not comforting: The house is still very cold, the oil is outrageously expensive, and the use of resources is impossible to make peace with.

A couple of years ago we got a wood burning stove. The decision was hard. Pellet stoves are more efficient, but there often seem to be shortages of available pellets, especially the winter after Katrina, making it obvious that pellet ingredients are not local. Corn burning stoves are interesting, but uncommon enough that it's hard to get fuel unless you have your own cornfield. Solar heat is the best answer, since there's no pollution involved and no shortage of sun. Unfortunately, solar prices are going up and the tax deductions down, making it still an unreachable goal for us low income types. (It's still in future plans!) We looked around our area at all the deadwood lying around, all the branches from storm damage, all the cut trees stacked up at roadwork sites, and decided to buy the cleanest, most efficient wood burning stove our scraped together dollars could buy.

Last winter we moved the heat around with a little electric fan salvaged from a computer, given to us by our bio-diesel brewing neighbor. (Love the frugal and tinkering neighbors!) This year, we tore down a wall to allow the heat to penetrate the whole house. And we got an eco fan.

The computer fan did the job, no doubt. But it required electricity, and was loud. This lovely little number sits on top of the stove and is propelled by the heat. Light the stove, and the fan starts running. And it's perfectly silent, letting you enjoy that cold-night-by-the-fire ambiance thing.

There's a whole explanation that comes with the fan about the physics of how it works, but I didn't bother with that. To me, it's just beautiful magic.

no more tricks

As much as Derrick Jensen tells me hope is the wrong way to go about things, I still find myself hoping.

As centrist as I know Obama is, as much as I know about his pro-Israel stance, as convinced as I am that he's going to attack Pakistan, I still get swept up in this emotional current, this excitement that something could be different. That a black person (albeit, still a straight, rich, christian, man) with a non anglicized name could be president of the U.S. That he might remember all the little people, improve health care, extend care to the environment, and generally be less of a capitalist scuz. I hope. And I plan to push him, with your help. I prefer to dismantle our government from the bottom, but could still use someone a little less evil on top.

Happy halloween, and happy end to our scary regime! Here's hoping.

border crossing

I'm reading Sandor Katz's book The Revolution Will Not Be Microwaved. It has all kinds of nuggets in it, but I came across something that really stuck: "illegal aliens" or "human invasive species" connected with plant and animal invasive species. He says:

Freedom demands that borders be as porous as possible. Open borders allow for cross-pollination and exchange; ironclad borders are expressions of totalitarian control. And generalized prohibitions on "invasive aliens" are oversimplistic and inflammatory. "Alien species do not come from Mars," the popular science magazine Discover reminds us; "they are not 'other.' They are very much of us, by us; we are the main agent of their spread." Seeds migrate via birds and the wind [[and nation defined borders change]], so "native" is not a static state.

He goes on to talk about how GM giants Monsanto benefit from the destruction of so-called invasive plant species (in effect controlling diversity), while individual seed savers trying to continue their family's generations old heritage foods are stopped at borders. Concerned environmentalists have picked up the invasive=bad, local=good lingo. It's similar to industry like slaughterhouses benefiting from the labor of underpaid undocumented workers, while blue collar workers wonder if they can't get jobs because of the flow of immigrants. The either/or language is deceiving us.

I'm inspired to revisit Xicana writer Gloria Anzaldua's Borderlands/La Frontera, which embraces crossover.

more than one issue

Can thinking meat-eaters can be better advocates for animals and the environment than self-proclaimed vegan animal activists? A comparison of writers David Foster Wallace (who penned Consider the Lobster for Gourmet magazine) and Matthew Scully (Bush II's speech writer who also wrote Sarah Palin's RNC speech) gives pause.

tenuous connections

Artist and ecologist from South Carolina, Danna Ray quietly reminds us that we're attached to one another, to our surroundings. That delicate moss and tiny sprouting plants are of great importance. That in our world, devastation and beauty occur together.

The way her work makes me feel reminds me of my first trip to Staten Island.

This NY borough is famous for it's enormous garbage dump, visible from space. I first went to Staten Island when in art school, to see a collection of Fluxus work that included several feminist and queer artists I respected. I was transported from my by-the-side-of-the-freeway New Jersey existence to beautiful old buildings, built by the navy, in a large and lovely park. I didn't see Fresh Kills on that trip, but was thinking about garbage canyons anyhow when I saw the Yoko Ono piece that has continued to resonate for me. Her piece consisted of smashed teacups carefully pieced together and glued, placed on a table and chairs, ready for the ritual of having tea together.

Sitting down with another person for tea is such a small act in the face of something as horrible as the Vietnam War (about which the piece was made). Small but critical. Sitting face to face. Seeing one another, acknowledging one another's value. And connection.

It's worth cobbling together our broken lives, our broken spirits, our broken earth.

culture & ferment

I just took a fermentation workshop with Sandor Katz, food activist and wild fermenation fetishist.

I am interested for a couple of reasons, the first of which is flavor: many of my favorite foods (miso! pickles!) are fermented. AND THEN, all the emphasis on fresh, local foods doesn't make much sense without preservation techniques. Without them, when the C.S.A. and home garden seasons are over, it's back to wilted, airplane-shipped produce from greenhouses far away.

Canning seems a bit challenging to me, but fermentation is easy—low tech and without dangers. And really tasty. And really good for you.

The workshop was a lovely afternoon spent with a nice group of people on a beautiful farm. The bonus was to learn that Sandor is queer and an AIDS activist, and has lived (healthily) with HIV since the 80s. (My first tipoff was the book dedication to an ACT UP comrade.) He lives in a queer intentional community in Tennessee.

It's funny how people become known for one thing, yet we all turn out to be as three dimensional and multi-colored as a bucket of freshly chopped veggies. This picture shows our group's "bruiser" releasing the juices of our veggies by squeezing them. Those very veggies are fermenting right now, in their own juices, in my basement.

mockumentary

A new documentary film called Terrorist - SHAC 7 has just released their trailer. It's unspeakably sad to have to watch a movie preview to see the faces of friends for the first time in two years, since they're imprisoned in federal prisons spanning the country.

I've closely watched this and other green scare cases unfold, but there's so many details that I'm excited to learn more, to see this film. Hopefully the movie will expose how obscene these indictments have been, how dangerous it is to fling around the word "terrorist", and make clear why everyone should support those prosecuted under the Animal Enterprise Protection Act (and to resist the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act).

There are many places to learn all about the SHAC 7 case, the new wave of government-induced fear, and other imprisoned eco-activists. I won't even try and explain what's happening in a quickie way. It's dramatic, and detailed, and deserves more attention. It's ruining lives. Hopefully those resisting the attack on dissent will save many more.

gorillas

The late summer edition of VegNews has an article by Mickey Z. that I can't stop thinking about. It talks about how cell phones require a metal ore called coltan. The bulk of coltan is found in the DRC (Democratic Republic of Congo). The DRC is embroiled in a massive and deadly civil war. The mining and sale of coltan are feeding both sides of the conflict. The people of the DRC are victims of our cell phone addiction.

The other victims are the Eastern Lowlands Gorillas, the world's largest primates. They are headed for extinction, and are among the millions of refugees in the area.

Mickey Z. asks us if we will

"....ever disrupt our (allegedly) comfortable lives and dedicate ourselves to stopping—by any means necessary—nightmares like global warming, US military interventionism, economic exploitation, animal agriculture, and environmental devastation?

It's not as if we don't have choice (and I'm not talking about picking Chris Brown over Linkin Park). Ask yourself this: Which do you prefer, a consumer culture or an ozone layer? Hamburgers or rain forests? Cell phones or Eastern Lowlands Gorillas? Would we give up the ability to text TTYL to our BFF to help save an entire species from going extinct?

In 2008, it's a valid question. You can type that in your damn cell phone and text it."

the end of the world as we know it?

Everytime it's 70 degrees in New York in January, I'm positive it's global warming. When I saw last month how thick the oceans and river are with jellyfish, I thought it just meant there were a lot of jellyfish this year, and ok, a little early. Alas, the NY Times reports that it means the death of the oceans. Behold the jellyfish, and be very scared.

critical mass

granville_bridge_3298, originally uploaded by doviende.

Critical Mass is not an organized group, rather "happenings" that happen to occur in many cities around the world on a regular basis. Critical Mass bike rides bring awareness to the availability of non-polluting alternatives to cars. They also make pretty obvious the lack of consideration city planners give to any form of getting around that doesn't involve cars. In the 'burbs it's worse yet (see pedestrian).

Tousles with cops are standard fare at these rides, since some traffic snarling tends to happen when large groups of cyclists ride together. (Especially when they're in costume or naked.) There's been lots of attention in NY to the cop who tackled a rider last week. But anyone who has ever attended a ride knows arrests, permanent confiscation of bicycles, and cops roughing up riders are all too common. Hopefully this media moment will get more bicycle activists involved.

All that, and the rides are still joyous events.

pedestrian

Yesterday, in Newburgh, NY, I saw a man get stopped by the police for walking down the street. Sirens, lights, the works. He was walking on the shoulder of a road at an intersection where 5 years ago there was farmland, and now there are strip malls: "essential" things like B&Ns, Lowe's, Mobil stations, Chili's. It was illegal for him to be walking down this road because there is no sidewalk (like most roads these days), and, I'm guessing here, because it is considered a highway by the town of Newburgh. On an already hot and sweaty afternoon, in a landscape covered with black asphalt, this man wasn't allowed to walk home from work. (The Talking Heads song Nothing But Flowers comes to mind here.)

I was flabbergasted, and feel that, for me, this felt like the beginning of the end. I saw all this happen from a car, no surprise, but was so horrified, it makes me want to want to walk and ride my bike exclusively. I'm so repulsed by a culture that makes it illegal to walk in this place that has so recently been taken away from people, and handed to corporations. Sickened by this class crap, that tries to require people to have cars by not funding public transportation.

I'm inspired to give my friend John Francis, of the organization Planetwalk and the book Planetwalker, another read. John didn't ride in cars for twenty-two years to protest oil industry abuses, and has many an interesting story to tell from his journeys. And, bonus, he's another banjo player!

bloc

blockades, originally uploaded by abovegroundpool.

Sometimes there's an emergency, and your only choice is to form a blockade. This can be done using trees, boats, tubes, barrels, locks, sticks, wheelchairs, tripods, and bodies bodies bodies.

tree city

My town has been awarded a "tree city" award by the Arbor Day Foundation a bunch of years in a row. This is funny (in a sick way) since there are constantly massive, old trees being cut, and rarely any being planted. In four days this week, eight 75+ year old trees were cut down in view of my house, by two different homeowners. Now you see them, now you don't. The thuds the trunks make when they hit the ground makes my heart hurt.

grass

Today was the day. We moved into this house from Brooklyn four and a half years ago. In the garage at the time was an old reel mower. I wanted to refurb it, but it was too rusted out, wood rotted, etc., and I was told it wasn't worth all the replacement parts and work it needed. Alas, with a yard of grass and neighbors who glare when it grows wild, we settled for what we could afford: an old $20 gas mower at a yard sale.

After 4 summers of struggling with that stinky, noisy thing, I mowed the lawn today with a quiet, non-polluting mower.

I know some of you out there are saying, "A lawn! Any real environmentalist would have rid of that silliness by now." We have a big yard, growing lots of edibles and I'm continuously planting perennials (edible and otherwise). And I haven't had the money or time to pull up all that grass. When I do, the priority will be pulling up the nasty asphalt driveway. The lawn stays for now!

The reel mower feels like a good solid step in the right direction. The neighbors are already giving me looks.