BP, Leftovers & Jesus: A Dialogue

I think I’ve mentioned my instigator friend, #17. He’s actually an old friend (don’t take that personally, #17) who claims to be a recent and avid EyeJunkie convert. I call him an instigator because he sometimes sends me links or questions or book recommendations to stir the Junkie pot a little, prompting me to express myself on various issues or ideas, and perhaps inspiring me to some essay eloquence. Right.

It happened this morning. Again.

Like many across our country (and indeed our planet), I’ve been watching news of the oil “spill” in the Gulf of Mexico over the past six weeks. The story is of particular interest to those, who like me, live in Mississippi and other Gulf states. But, the implications environmentally and economically are so much more far-reaching.  Anyone who is awake is certainly convinced of that. Right? When I heard of the proposed “top kill” option to stem the flow of oil into the Gulf, my first thought was, “This whole process is an exercise in experimentation with 210,000 gallons of oil gushing daily.” It’s a frightening concept to realize you are reaching the limit of your own capacity to redeem a situation.

Enter #17.

This morning he called my attention to an article from the New York Times about the affect the “spill” is having on Louisiana shrimpers and fishermen. The implications of this disaster on their way of life and livelihood are unmistakeable, including the  larger questions of whether shrimp from the Gulf will ever be safe to eat. The plot thickens on the impact of the explosion at Deepwater Horizon. #17 wondered aloud in cyberspace why the disaster is still being called a “spill” rather than a “crime scene.” Good question. But a crime against what? Against whom?  Then, of course, #17 took the probe one step further.

“WWJD?”

For the unindoctrinated, that means “What would Jesus do?” Yep. Once an instigator, always an instigator. The ensuing dialogue in pursuit of an answer to that question made me think. It made me sad. It made me wonder. It made me ask more questions. With #17′s permission, I thought I’d share it here with little editing…

Junkie: And what’s YOUR take on what Jesus would do?

#17: Maybe He would cry. Why don’t YOU lead me to water on this?

Junkie: I don’t know about leading to water, but random thoughts…

I do think God is grieved by it. I believe a few facts about God that color the situation.

I think God made this earth. I think He designed it to be a living and continual testament to Himself and His existence. I also think He made it to sustain itself in many ways, but also to need a caretaker. The first few chapters of the Bible indicate that God designated man to be that caretaker. I think God designated man as the culmination of His creation — therefore not equivalent to nature, but more important than nature. In many ways, He designed the “system” or nature to serve man. That’s not necessarily a popular opinion with environmental groups.

In those first few chapters of Genesis, there is the account of man in the garden of Eden. Some see it as figurative, some as a recount of history. To me, the concepts are the same regardless. In that story, it was God who killed the first animals to provide clothing for man after his “fall.” The environment was used to serve the needs of man.

So, there’s a fine line with this situation. I think it’s ok for man to explore, ok to tap and use the resources we have available on this planet. However, God entreated man to be the caretaker. So there is an inherent responsibility of stewardship. I think that’s where we fall short. I think that’s where greed takes over. I think that’s where we show our lack of restraint. That lack of restraint and balance is what so often leads us into disaster.

But, above all, I believe God is compassionate. He gave souls to men, not to plants or animals. In this situation, I think he still sees the people as more important than the damage. I’m also aware that the two aren’t easily separated.

What would Jesus do?
I don’t know. I think He would have men act with compassion. I think He would want us all to take responsibility for our own actions, to own them. I think He would want sincerity in motives and actions. I think He wants the extra mile, the giving of the shirt as well as the coat, the recognition of what is priceless. I think He wants this mess cleaned up.

I like the idea of the Gumbo parties. [Gumbo for the Gulf is the benefit brain child of Environment Michigan.] Go out and buy shrimp. Eat it and give. But, is a halt to all drilling the answer? I don’t know.

I know that for many counties in Mississippi and Louisiana, the best job opportunities for feeding families are found in offshore drilling (and ironically in fishing or aquaculture). With the limited educational opportunities and historic poverty, those jobs are essential in many ways. In Mississippi, forestry is one of the largest industries (if not the largest) — another target of the environmental lobby. The current crisis is in need of funds and so are the shrimpers and other fishermen. But what about long term? What economic development can be produced to replace the jobs lost with a halt to all drilling?

And, the reality is that most goods are delivered by freight across this country. A reduction in the amount of available oil (regardless of its source) means double or triple prices on basic needs. I can’t afford that again.

There are many positions here. And not many easy answers. For me, I think the best answer lies in balance and restraint. For regulations and limits to be real. For incentives for alternative fuel to be real and enticing. For disincentives to breeching the limits to be real and detrimental.

#17: I agree completely.

I appreciate the narrative about the scripture. I also see nature as something in service to man. So did the Romans. So did the American Indians. Have you read Wendell Berry? On Stewardship? [more instigation]

I also believe in moderation and compassion. I believe in restraint and delicacy. That’s why I re-read books, why I wear my clothes out, why I have ridden a bike for so long. Its why I took the bus in Cincinnati. Its why I took the train home in Mississippi. That’s why I buy $25 of gas at a time, why I eat leftovers and pack a lunch. Its why I put new lenses in old frames and why I’m careful about how often I wash clothes.

I also believe Jesus would be grieving. And so do many others at a distance from this crisis. We feel helpless.

Junkie: Everyone feels helpless. And, we ARE in many ways.

Presumably the best and brightest minds from the private and public sectors are applying solutions to this problem to no avail. That’s not an easy thing for man to accept. And, it’s not an easy thing to look in the mirror as a race or a people after having created such a far-reaching dilemma. It’s not easy to admit that we had no foresight, or at least inadequate foresight. It’s like the realization after Hiroshima — what have we done? What genie is now out of the bottle?

Bringing it back to the real people, I think what bothers me the most is the rush to embrace agendas. It’s human nature and politics, but it’s taking our eyes off the ball. Party lines, Obama bashing, big oil bashing. The rhetoric has a place, but it is in the back seat. I was disappointed most, I think, to see the immediate adversarial relationship established by the EPA representatives upon their arrival two weeks after the explosion. In reading the tenor of the press conferences since, it put BP in an immediate defensive position. Of course, they’re going to be the fall guy. They are going to be the culprit. That’s obvious. But, that was a mistake in crisis management. To establish advocacy and an environment of cooperation fosters the best ideas. It squelches the need for secrecy and hedging. I think that approach was politically motivated, and it offended me as a citizen of a state that is likely to be affected directly by this disaster for decades. And, to see a Congressman holding up a glass filled with dark liquid that could just as easily have been 3-day old coffee was just ridiculous posturing.

You know, I’m seeing articles where the concept of “risk management” and its viability are coming into question. The assumption is that BP (or any of the oil companies) may have imagined this scenario in some brainstorming session somewhere in the past, but it was likely not even addressed because the possibility was so remote. Now, the remotest possibility has created a situation where a hazmat suit is required to walk in the Louisiana marshes that feed the lowest elements on the food chain — for wildlife and humans. “Managing” risk is an exercise in choosing, in setting priorities. Unfortunately, the priorities provided by probability (and certainly by financial gain) are being shown NOT to match up with the potential consequences. The horror is that just as we can’t conceive of an appropriate solution to this problem we’ve caused, we also can’t conceive of the true impact. For all our smarts, our brains simply aren’t big enough to accurately predict that.

Dialogue is important. Sadly, it’s not always the product of this small world we live in. It’s not always the norm for friends living 17 states apart or issues entrenched an ocean apart. But, I think maybe that dialogue is our greatest hope for solutions.

From there OUR dialogue moved into less weightier topics and pleasantries, punctuated by something like…

Junkie: What were you thinking getting me started with both Jesus AND British Petroleum at the same time?

#17: A *smirk* I could read loud and clear across 17 states.

6th Day of Thanksgiving: The Power of the Pen

Little Drummer Boy had his annual Thanksgiving program today complete with Pilgrim costumes, Native American headdresses, a tee pee and an alarming number of lyrics about chopping turkeys. Quiver was tied up with work, so it was just me and my favorite 4-year-old for lunch consisting of… turkey sandwiches. I must have heard “I love you, Mommy” 637 times and enjoyed it every time. I’m realizing that I say “I love you” to my gifts pretty often–with every available breath, actually. Now, I’m starting to get it back at me. Granted, sometimes it’s translated as “don’t spank me, Mommy,” but more often than not it signifies a grand old time.

All the Pilgrims and Indians today got me thinking. What’s a 12 Days of Thanksgiving without a little history? And, courtesy of the Starkville Public Library and LDB’s penchant for wanting to read the same book over and over (and over) again, I’ve learned a new little bit of history this year about the power of the pen.

A woman named Sarah Hale is credited with being the catalyst for the creation of a designated national day of Thanksgiving–the one we celebrate now on the fourth Thursday of November. We checked out a book from the library about her called Thank You Sarah, The Woman Who Saved Thanksgiving by Laurie Halse Anderson. It has great illustrations and a fun account of this unusual woman.

Sarah Hale was a writer and activist long before women even had the right to vote. She was a teacher, a poet, a songwriter (does Mary Had a Little Lamb ring a bell?) and a mom. She was also the editor of an influential women’s magazine–one of the first of its kind. She used that forum to lobby for any number of issues close to her heart. One of those issues was a national day of Thanksgiving. She first lobbied for the idea by challenging states to set aside a day. She succeeded, but every state had a different day. She felt there was value in creating a common day set aside for all Americans to give thanks. So, she began writing again–both columns in her magazine and letters and more letters. All in all, she spent 38 years writing letters and articles about Thanksgiving, including letters to five different presidents.

Finally, in 1863, when the country was in the midst of the bloody Civil War, she found someone who agreed that a national day of Thanksgiving could be a positive force in the American culture. On October 3rd of that year, President Abraham Lincoln delivered the first Thanksgiving proclamation.

What can I learn from history?

1. Sarah’s pen was indeed a powerful tool. And today, the pen is easier to wield than ever before with countless opportunities for “citizen media”– vehicles like blogs, social networking sites, email correspondence, and yes, the U.S. Postal Service still runs 6 days per week.

2. Sarah didn’t give up until her message was embraced–even after 38 years. It wasn’t enough for it to be heard. She was persistent until she convinced that one person who could make a difference.

3. The results had lasting power–so much so that a century and a half later President Barack Obama will make a Thanksgiving proclamation on Thursday, November 26th.

People with conviction can have a powerful impact if they choose to use their voices. Whatever I have to say, I better make it count.

Tues Ten 061609: Iran

Sorry folks, the Ten Tuesday Tickles in the way of GREAT design and style blogs I’ve been obsessed with this month will have to wait.  Holy Revolutionbrew, Twatman! I’m just too astounded by the situation in Iran and the amazing power of Twitter. My social media guru followees have been trying to get us to buy in, and until now I’ve just seen Twitter as a gigantic cocktail party in which I’m an eavesdropping wallflower. But, the events of the last two days have convinced me that this formidable outlet for citizen media has real power beyond “I just downed another cup of coffee” and “Here, read my latest blog post”.

10 amazing things/events/whatever about revolutions/free speech/life learned from Iran and Twitter:

1. Twitter postponed a scheduled maintenance shutdown because of the vital role the service was playing in accessing information in and out of Iran. They embrace their own potential. (Can’t see FB doing that, honestly)

2. The Iranian government disallowed any foreign journalists from reporting events outside their offices and from providing video footage. Censorship is alive and well, and used as a real weapon for oppression.

3. People on the ground in Tehran were actually working to confirm or deny reports that were coming out. I saw multiple tweets from freedom supporters disavowing incorrect reports of army activities, etc.

4. There are actually some hard-to-believe realities and guidelines about using something like Twitter to support global activities. See this link.

5. Get to know the cyber ins and outs because oppressors and dictators do. I “reTweeted” (twat?) the above link from it’s original site and 10 minutes later the web page had been pulled and an “account suspended” notice posted. Later it was posted again on the site listed. Can’t promise it will remain there.

6. Unlike the comfort of my upstairs office, some of the people tweeting from Iran are in REAL, not imagined danger. They might not be here tomorrow. Yes, we still live in that world.

7. ABC’s morph into Presidential TV on July 24 for a sell-job on healthcare reform is looking a little Ahmadinejad-ish.

8. Are there actual people out there who really don’t understand that David Letterman was talking about Bristol Palin and not her 14-year-old sister? Inappropriate bad joke in poor taste aside, do we really need to manufacture an “outrage” when there’s one staring us right in the face?

9. People everywhere just wanna be free. (Thank you, Rascals) You can’t get a good freedom movement down. It’s why totalitarian regimes don’t work in the end.

10. Words have power, and it’s my right and privilege to use them. Own it. Take responsibility for it. Make it count.

Narrowly Reined Silence

I dread that day. I know I will be required to call upon every grown-up, rational bone in my body to hold back my Mommy protective nature, to be the bigger person, to scrape a life lesson out of one of life’s realities. I dread that day–the day when one of my sweet children comes home crying, hurt by hurtful words spoken about him.

They’re all too young to care right now.  They are blissfully absorbed in their own worlds with their own thoughts and their own stories, unaware of how they are perceived by others around them. I dread the day one of them realizes someone doesn’t like him because of something out of his control–like where he lives or the color of her hair or the style of his blue jeans or the accuracy of his pitch. It makes me sad to even think about that day. I dread them not having the favor of someone, a friend or a teacher or a playmate, whose opinion for however fleeting a moment matters to them.

Perhaps it will be Little Drummer Boy who realizes for the first time someone is laughing AT him and not with him.  It could be Squiggle who realizes someone is running AWAY from him rather than alongside him. Maybe it will be Baby Girl who, for the first time, hears that her smile isn’t as beautiful as we’ve always told her.  I dread that day. It will be the day my heart breaks. And, it will be the day I must take a narrowly reined vow of silence–the day I rely on God’s Spirit and will-power to hold my tongue, to keep myself from lashing out in anger at someone else’s child or some child’s parent or this world in general. It will be another chapter in a series of many lessons I attempt to teach them about where their true and lasting worth lies, and the bittersweet rewards of being who you are. But, it will break my heart nonetheless. For, on that day, they will have lost (if only for a moment) that carefree indifference to what others think. On that day, they will have lost the innocent belief that all the world values them as we do.

Sadly, that day is a reality. It’s coming. Our penchant for hasty judgements and cruel words is evident all around us, and it’s often revealed in surprising ways at surprisingly young ages by surprising people.  Today, I read of a boy, Carl Walker-Hoover, who took his own life less than two weeks ago because of the daily teasing he received.  The accusation: he “acted gay.” Carl would have turned 12 years old today. His mother said in an interview with Essence magazine that being gay had never presented itself as an issue because Carl had not even experienced puberty yet. He was interested in soccer and basketball and football and school and Pokemon.

Today, April 17, also marked the National Day of Silence, an initiative sponsored by the Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network (GLSEN) that encourages students to take some form of a vow of silence to raise awareness about school bullying based on perceived or actual sexual orientation and about the silence many students who’ve chosen a LGBT lifestyle feel they must keep to avoid harrassment. Many conservative groups have denounced the initiative as simply a vehicle for promoting and indoctrinating students in the homosexual “agenda”.

But, I am not writing about the “agenda.” And, being gay or straight wasn’t on Carl Walker-Hoover’s radar. And, whether my little ones are accused of being gay or prudes or rednecks or poor white trash or nerds, it’s the same kind of speech that will require my narrowly reined silence as a protective Mother one day.  So, today, I’m writing. Because I don’t want to be Carl Walker-Hoover’s mother.

The problem I have with the conservative approach to so many social issues (including the gay one) is that so often our so-called righteousness is used as a weapon. Our own speech, the names WE call, reveal our refusal to see a created soul of infinite worth to a Creator God. We see what God calls sin, and we name it such.  Yes, but we are blind to the fact that “sinners” are souls. And this is not the way of the Savior I know. The harshest words Jesus spoke in the New Testament were reserved for the religious leaders of the day. The smallest chunks of time in his schedule were given to those religious leaders. Most of his time was spent with prostitutes and cheaters and working class, the uneducated, the disloyal, the confused. And, the time he had with them, he spent slinging, not insults and accusations, but bread and wine and conversation, and more often than not forgiveness.

In the conservative movement I see, we’re running away from ourselves. We run alarmingly close to creating a culture that promotes the kind of stigma and bigotry and soul-blindness that made an 11-year-old boy’s topic of teasing so unbearable. In that culture, it’s better to be dead than to be called gay. That’s not the Savior I know. It’s not the salvation I know.

500 or 15: Television

More parenting videos on JuiceBoxJungle

500 words or 15 minutes (whichever comes first) on my topic of the moment. This moment is…
Television. Aaargh. I love a couch potato moment as much as the next gal, but this latest Juice Box Jungle video got me thinking. How do I “use” the boob tube with my kids? And, is it intentional? Or, do I just default to their love of Elmo and my own need for THEIR entertainment.

My boys love their movies: Charlie Brown, Dora, Elmo, Barney, Winnie the Pooh – the academy award nominees of toddler land. Every day, they take turns choosing the first “movie” to watch when we get home from day care. I’ve found this hour or so of DVD time to be a great way for me to keep my sanity at the dreaded “transition hour.” You know the one, the hour between work and home, daycare and home, hungry and filled, outside and inside and so forth.

When everyone comes home after long (and mostly fun) days, there is sometimes no rest for weary Mommy and Daddy, so our solution has been a little DVD time. We alternate who gets to pick the movie first and they all settle in to bean bag or chair or couch with juice and milk in hands. Sometimes they stay there glued to the action and sometimes they opt for cars and trucks and random storytelling with the show in the background. And, sometimes even Hub and I come running not to miss our favorite funny parts. But, the movies give the grown-ups a chance to say “how was your day” and give the Mommy a chance to get dinner started with maybe a little less multi-tasking. Mind-numbing qualities aside, to the credit of kid programming producers everywhere, the experience really has taught my bunch a lot about everything from how toilet paper is made to who Abraham Lincoln is to how to act like a monkey. (Wait, we didn’t really need any training for that. They popped out with the knowledge already in hand.)

As for regular TV programming, realistically we don’t watch much at our house, at least not the cable and network kind. Being that I have one big sports fan and two (or three, lest we ignore Title 9) little sports fans in training at my house, ESPN does get some air time as well as Fox Sports South and whoever else might be broadcasting live baseball or SEC football.

The main thing that keeps us away from the standard programming and the big concern I have with even sports broadcasting is the commercials. They regularly confuse and scare my just-shy-of-4-year old while my just-shy-of-2 ½ year old is blissfully unaware, at the moment. When we watched the Super Bowl this year, we COULDN’T watch it for reassuring Little Drummer Boy. We finally ended up turning it off. (You can experience my sleep-deprived rant on the issue here.) I’m all about mastering the remote for programs that show my kids things I don’t want them to know until they’re 30, but even with sports or kid-friendly programming, advertisements are still the wild-card.

So at our house, sometimes it’s a toss-up between our favorite dinosaurs and monsters or our favorite teams, and we’re all slowly learning that since we “only have one TV,” (I know, it’s shocking!) “we have to share!” When dinner’s on the table and it’s time for family time, usually there’s a rush to see who can turn OFF the tube first. I guess that’s something.

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