Ode to Dung and Community

A soft foot with a swollen ankle
Steps surreptitiously on slippery pebbles,
The off-hand moo or hog snort startles
As he approaches the animal pens,
A delicately putrid smell of dust, dung, and urine
Fill his senses for a brief moment,
But are soon replaced by other sensations,
Those of labor.

Sweat dripping across a brow, blisters forming on
Foreign regions of the hands that grapple with
Daily tasks.

Twisting corn, digging beds, mulching rows,
Milking,walking, lifting, breathing,
Then, at the precipice of exhaustion,
Fruits emerge.

Conclusive sensations in tasting the freshly picked and grown,
Milked and boiled, slaughtered and plucked , seasoned and dried and fried.
The calluses and sensations accumulate for seventy days,
Eroding away former fits of anxiety and attachment,
Loosening the eyes and the mind,
Open now to insights of dung and community.

Independence Day

Here is some Independence Day Truth: we live in a world spiraling around in despair.

I am here as an intern in Uganda for Foundation for Sustainable Development, working for St. Jude Community Farm, and I turn on the news - Choose your social ill:

Job Crisis - Middle East Fiasco - U.S. Upset in World Cup (just kidding) - Oil Spill - Poverty - Terrorism - Bank Failure... the list goes on I am sure.

I am here offering an alternative - and asking for you to join me and others here in supporting this alternative.

The program is simple, clear, and a long-term strategy to helping the youth of Masaka, Uganda (and possibly other districts across the country) to feed themselves:

30 Boys and Girls (between 12-20 years old) will join the farmers of Masaka in a
never-before-seen Apprenticeship Program. Receiving part-time salaries, opening
their own individual savings, learning about leadership and cooperative economic
development, and joining hands with sponsors across the world, the St. Jude
Apprenticeship Pilot Program will join the needs and assets of Masaka's
Adolescent Youth (ages 12-18) with the needs and assets of Community Farmers
under an Apprenticeship Program with targeted impacts of youth leadership
development, improved community entrepreneurship, farm business skills, and
cooperative scholarship savings.

We kick off their independence this Friday, July 9th, at the Contract Signing Ceremony, when each farmer receives their 2 Apprentices and both farmer and apprentice sign their individual contracts.

If this alternative inspires and makes sense to you then please read the attached program flyer, read Mike's Story, and join hands with us across the world in this groundbreaking initiative.

All checks must be made out to St. Jude Family Projects and mailed to 1119 Bonview Lane, Atlanta, GA 30324.

Thank you for taking the time to read this and Happy Independence Day,

Ben

Kernels and Cobs and Corny Photos At the End

“Be not deceived. If I have a veiled look,

I turn the trouble of my countenance

Merely upon myself. Vexèd I am

Of late with passions of some difference,

Conceptions only proper to myself,

Which give some soil, perhaps, to my behaviors.”

- William Shakespeare, Act I of Julius Caesar (and
one of the few books I brought)

Saturday June 19^th, 2010

I sat down with Frank, stumbling over the immense pile of ears of corn and eventually reaching a sack to sit on. We each sat with a red bucket in front of us, sitting on top of a floor of the season's harvest. The warehouse was nearly full of the dried corn, and the job was simple. Grab each cob, and twist with both hands until the kernels loosened and fell off into the bucket. Simple but certainly not easy. In fact, the job was probably the hardest I had done yet on the farm. My hands soon began to tear, and by the time I begrudgingly put on the gloves I had, in the face of Frank's snickering, I had already torn the skin on a few fingers. The sweat, now stinging my open sores, made the experience even more painful and frustrating. As insects like flies, moths, and beetles crawled over my feet, I became seriously uncomfortable. Sweat poured from my legs, hands, and face, and I looked over at Frank who had already filled half his bucket. He knew I was in pain and told me to think about something else.

I have often tried deep reflection when doing farm labor and it was nice of Frank to provide the reminder. I often think in metaphors or symbols, and in this case I was using the work itself to think vaguely about identity and purpose. I have struggled at times with owning and accepting my identity and purpose, resigning to the fact that I am not only a 'sponge', here to absorb all physical and social experience, but also a 'filter.' I am here not only to 'experience' my surrounding, whatever esoteric process that may be, but also to understand, interact, facilitate, and question. Now on to the metaphor:

Here there are two conflicting identities—my hand, representing my identity. Soft and malleable, my identity and resulting purpose are here to grasp and absorb around an abrasive and structurally different identity and purpose. The people of Masaka and my work here with St. Jude make up the ear of corn. From afar it appears that the valuable resources are readily available. They are budding yellow kernels, dry and ripe for picking. Soon my hand and in theory, my identity, realize that extracting the value causes inevitable conflict, friction, and discomfort. When the kernels finally loosen and one breaks off, the space it leaves creates a snowball effect and more kernels slide off in large batches until my hand now grasps what lies underneath. I realize that the value in 'the process,' my journey here, lies not in the bucket full of valuable yellow kernels left now for some external purpose, but instead in the raw and soft cob I now hold in my hand. Each cob, removed of its superficial outer layer of kernels, is unique underneath.

What I am trying to say is that my first month here has not been the 'whole fluffy world holding hands' experience I seemed to be describing in my entries. Filled with boring days, long hours in front of an unnecessary television, putrid dust and smells of animal excrement, and a generally disorganized atmosphere, I have found that extracting meaning and lessons from my activities each day is analogous to the job of tearing kernels off of corn ears. Yet the moments that the 'kernels,' the impersonal products destined for some external purpose, are loosened — a completed budget, a workshop summary, a grant proposal, are the moments when truly unique lessons or 'the soft cob underneath' emerge — hearing Mike's story, growing close to Frank, teaching the 3 year-olds to count to five in English, playing soccer with the local boys, and receiving an unexpected letter of gratitude from a schoolteacher.

As I hauled my red bucket now filled to the brim with kernels and began to heal and wrap my wounds, I felt I had a better understanding of my identity and purpose. Each day is a new cob bringing unknown moments when kernels suddenly loosen and a soft, unique core is revealed.

There was also a bit of irony when this evening's mass, which I attend every Saturday at the farm, had a sermon (now repeated in English for me) discussing Jesus's question 'Who Am I?' I smiled, rubbed the fresh scabs on my fingers, and listened. The pastor didn't discuss the question's introspective potential for all of us reading the passage. Instead he focused on Jesus's journey, quoted a few other passages, and ended the sermon without the reflection I was craving.

Sitting now in the living room with the 3 year-olds Payas and Fina, watching Gorilla School on Animal Planet, and waiting for the Cameroon vs. Denmark game to begin, I can relax now, stop squeezing and twisting the kernels, and rest my tired hands.

Six weeks remain and my to-do list of 'kernel gathering' includes:

- Finishing budget and grant proposal
- Online fundraising campaign launch (to all of you!)

- Final Program Start Date, Stakeholder Contract Signing Ceremony

- Trip to Mbale Jewish Community and Mirembe Fair Trade Coffee Cooperative

- Meeting in Kampala with Makelele University about potential Fulbright Research

- Training St. Jude staff in workshops, preparing outlines, and 'handing over' program preparation duties

Next post will ask your help in launching the program – Weraba! Goodbye!

The whole crew in front of the gate for my home - quite the mansion! My host mother on the far right.
The entrance to the farm

Workshop underway

The adorably infamous Payas and Fina

More future apprentices at Butale

Butale Primary School (future apprentices!)

The adorably infamous Paya and Fina
The whole gang with my host mother on far right

Spurts of Productivity

Week 1 Re-Cap with Mike's Story at the End

So the past few days show quite the bifurcation in the process of 'getting things done' in the culture of a developing country. One day you do everything, the next day you do almost nothing. Sometimes we plan and work hard, other days we sleep – unlike Western culture, there is no hurry! Time is seen through an entirely different cultural lens.

Monday was productive. My first day of work, I was over at the farm at 7:30 to sit in on a staff meeting, which was very interesting to hear. They spoke a little bit in English, and I understood there was some argument over a part of the farm, and that someone was not fulfilling their responsibilities. I am very surprised to hear the problems discussed so publicly, in a culture where criticizing someone else can be an insult to their entire clan. Next I had a long discussion with Paul, my supervisor, about my experience in community agriculture, and what I wanted to be able to see over the next two weeks to develop a project proposal. Things are certainly in the works for a youth development/entrepreneurship/scholarship savings-type program, and after visiting several of the adult training groups tomorrow, I have no doubt that the youth can be involved (many children now are losing their mother and father to AIDS, so connecting them to mentors who can teach them life skills and business skills is very important!).

Madame Stephanie is such a community elder, with a farm behind her home, she uses her living space and a small building next to it for a nursery. She is the leader of a small group of about twenty women, who gather every two weeks to share their stories and support one another. They each bring the equivalent of about $5 to each meeting, and collectively vote on which one of them will receive the pool of money (for a project or improvement, or if one of them is struggling). They have, in essence, begun their own informal microfinance initiative!

Anyways, I worked in the field for a bit with Charles and Winnie, to show them I also knew how to use my hands. The sun was at full strength, and within 15 minutes I was about ready to pass out. I pushed on and completed the raised beds we were digging, and even through the gloves I had blisters! My shoulders were also burned. No matter, pain is good – with the pain I can show I have worked hard with my head and my hands.

Monday afternoon I went with Agee, a Japanese volunteer (here for 2 years) with an international sustainable agriculture network. He is doing experimentation in Permaculture (basically growing plants and raising animals using methods found in nature) with raising chickens, and growing rice alongside Tilapia and Catfish. We went and visited the site he is doing his experiments on, it is the Ssenya Fish Farm about 10 km away (the motorbike that took me there ripped me off! Charged me 5000 shillings, about $2.50, for a 10km drive!). Anyways the fish farm is the largest producer of catfish and tilapia in all of Uganda! We went right in and met the executive director, Paul Ssenya (another Paul!). Paul is such a nice man, with many motivations to train the community and help the local economy. He is so intelligent with his local business, and is always thinking of ways to train other farmers better methods to raise their income – what an inspirational guy. We visited his rice experiments, and he told me that the region of Uganda, the low-lying areas, either in swamps or alongside rivers, are IDEAL for permaculture rice-fish farming. Some of the most ideal land in all of Africa. . Agee is with a Japanese gov't sponsored agriculture program that is bringing rice-growing technology to Uganda, Sudan, and a few other surrounding nations. Very exciting stuff!

Anyways with all of these ideas floating through my head on how my project could connect with what Agee is doing, and with youth development, I finally met my host mother that evening, Madame Josephine Kizza. She has such a presence! Everyone kneels to her when they see her, showing respect (they say 'Eradde nyabbo,' which basically means 'respect, Madame.')

Josephine and I talked into the night about my story and experience, and her story as well. We talked about the fish farm, the opportunity to train Masaka farmers in better ways to raise their income, and to involve the youth (who cannot afford school) in these new projects as well.

Tuesday's activities, however, were a bit on the unproductive side. I did some digging in the morning, waited for a few hours for Richard to take me to some of the school training program – that didn't happen. Had lunch, walked around the farm, waited some more, then talked to Paul, then it was 4 o'clock and I realized how little I had accomplished that day. Well as they say, TIA! This is Africa!

Wednesday through Saturday were busy with school and farmer visits, playing football (soccer) with the neighborhood kids, cooking 'Southern Fried Chicken and Black Bean Burgers (a hit with the whole family), having informal Yoga Classes (every morning now at 7:30 with my host mom and aunt, and whoever else decides to come), and leading an interactive workshop I had with the staff to flesh out some of their ideas about what “youth development and entrepreneurship” really means to them – They loved the interactive improv-based activities! We have to work on their sense of humor though, and Paul even wants me to do more improv activities to build teamwork and cohesion amongst the staff. Not to mention that the games I teach them would be great to use in the schools!

Saturday morning I went with Madame Josephine to see Mike Chiwanuka. The drive was long and bumpy. Well, most of the roads are bumpy – but we were bumping in the truck for so long, my stomach even began to feel queasy. We stopped near Rakai, about four villages out from St. Jude, and stopped at a larger intersection to ask a schoolteacher who teaches Mike where to find him. She sent a boy with us in the back of the truck to lead us there, and we bought some meat and bread to bring him as a welcoming gift. We finally got out of the truck when the road became too narrow, only wide enough for a Boda-Boda. We approached the home, and an elderly woman came running out shouting and hugging us. This is an extremely odd way for any person to act to a stranger, much less a Muzungu (Westerner). I soon realized that the woman had an obvious mental handicap, and as we approached her home she began asking in Lugandan if today was Christmas, and if we were here to celebrate with all the gifts we had brought. Mike stepped out of his small home of brick and mortar, and brought out a grain sack for us to sit on (they have no chairs) underneath the banana trees in the shade. He then began to share.

I should preface this by saying that Mike's story is incredibly difficult to tell, and was even harder to hear him say that morning. Madame Josephine even began to break down, and I just stared down at my notepad, my hand trembling, swallowing any sign of tears of remorse or guilt. Mike is fifteen years old, and stands at about 5'3, a shorter stature most likely due to years of hard work and a general lack of nutrition in his diet. Like most poor farmer children, he wears no shoes. Mike is the head of the household, with his father having died of AIDS this past year, and his mother mentally handicapped to the point that she cannot even take care of her self, he cooks, farms, and cleans with his three younger siblings. His family's land is all they have, and they struggle to find water, manure, and seeds for their fledgling crops of bananas, tomatoes, and beans. Even the land is in jeopardy of being lost, as Mike's uncles, his mother's brothers, are very desperate men, and plan to take the land that is in their mother's name when she dies. They have been coming often to the home to discourage Mike and his siblings from working hard to save the money to keep the land, and Mike has suffered from repeated physical and psychological abuse from these men. Mike has nothing, but he works for everyone. More importantly, Mike wants to make something of himself as well. He goes to school every single day, according to him and the teacher we met, arriving late because of his work at home, and leaving school early so he can come home and take care of things. I asked him if he would prefer to work full-time and save money for his family, or continue his education. He said he wants to badly to continue learning, but he is torn by the duties he has at home. Mike has no one to turn to, nowhere to go, no resources to build upon, no foundation to hold him steady. He is the foundation.

We have invited Mike to be the voice for the Apprenticeship Program, representing many youth who are in need, but who are beyond description in their determination and leadership potential. He has agreed to come to the workshop with the teachers, local farmers, and St. Jude Staff, and give comments on what incentives can motivate youth like him the best. I only hope that the program can help Mike to improve his situation, if not by helping him save to afford school and buy a new plot of land, then at least by providing community elders to support him. I find it a sad and cruel irony that in the most deprived conditions with the least amount of hope, one can find the most potential, wisdom, and strength, even in a fifteen year-old boy.

The time spent with Mike has been the most important lesson I have learned thus far, a powerful experience that continues to prove that as much as “I am here to facilitate their development,” with my project's now stated Main Goal of “Joining the needs and assets of Masaka's Adolescent Youth (ages 12-18) with the needs and assets of School Gardens and Community Farmers under an Apprenticeship Program with targeted impacts of youth leadership development, improved community entrepreneurship, farm business skills, and cooperative scholarship savings,” I have soon realized that

the people of Masaka are also facilitating a development — my own.

Work this week will be busy with budget drafting, work plan and grant proposal, a few more community visits, and of course, more Yoga. I hear the sound of children laughing outside. I think I'll go play a bit.

Uganda Bites Back

“Today I wake up distressed. The hours I have been awake have been a gradual ascension to accept the inevitable gap between “those who have,” a culture of material selectivity, and “those who do not have,” a culture of marginalization. The severity of one is always relative to in different places and times — there is no definite standard or criteria for either, only the universal need for one to respect the other in the inevitable occasions that they meet. It is this respect which I hope to further understand, facilitate, and nurture.” 10:30 AM May 29^th, 2010

I apologize for the vague and esoteric prologue. The details of my encounter, of my valuable possessions nearly being taken, are not appropriate for public display. I have shared the details with those to whom it is relevant, but for public consumption, I will instead provide my tentative learned result:

As I sit outside, toyed with by either the adorable 3 year-olds Payas and Fina or the two needy kittens that follow them, both of whom have a feeble concept of personal space and material possession, I begin to wonder about culture. I came here to listen, to observe, and to facilitate. Not to judge. I find it hard not to judge considering recent events, but I have gradually shifted into an acceptance, response, and now, reflection.

Culture, in my opinion, is an evolving process of, and a balance between, two distinct categories. One is the organization of human and natural resources, through visible and invisible institutions of learned behavior, organization, and impact. This category is made up of measurable parts. They are empirical, physical, and easily understood. One can easily observe this category, and its different appearance between countries, and draw what my be called a 'comparison of development.' One country displays more cohesive, efficient, and productive behaviors under this category, and therefore may be considered 'more developed' than other countries that show deficiencies.

The second is the subjective truth of the selected area (country, region, neighborhood, family) and its general mythology. This involves interacting with belief systems, religious devotion, and how individuals organize their beliefs and behaviors under such systems. One can often forget this second aspect, as it is not easily observed, discussed, or measured. Oft ignored, subjective truth is not commonly associated with understanding the 'development' of a country, as this concept does not coalesce with the commonly used evaluation of 'more developed' and 'less developed' societies. Each subjective truth is, quite simply, subjective. Neither rational nor irrational, a people's subjective truth simply belongs to them, and must be left in their possession in order for their culture to survive, in equilibrium with the necessary 'development' of human and natural resources. This is the respect I am referring to, and is one not easily given amidst my current uncomfortable circumstances. Sure, when there are tribal dances, wonderful food, and open discussion, and one can easily experience and respect the subjective truth of another people. But when personal trust is violated, when all is not 'hold hands and sing kumbaya,' and more difficult situations are presented, one can easily begin to judge.

I refuse to judge. I come from one culture, and they come from another. My experience here, my internship in community economic development, is an attempt at cohesion between the two cultures. When different subjective truths can find confluence, gain mutual respect, and act cohesively, wonderful things can happen. So in spite of recent events, I am steadfast in my respect, observance, and optimism.

On a lighter note, I have completed my orientation and training, having gone through a wonderful workshop with Paul from REAP (Renewed Efforts to Alleviate Poverty). I now have a thorough grasp on Community Needs and Asset Assessment Models, and am prepared to begin my Work Plan and Project Proposal next week. There are so many different ways to systematically measure and analyze the needs and assets of a community, and I am fascinated by these innovative techniques. Some are more empirical than others, some are more subjective than others.

I took a very long walk around lunch time, soaking up some equatorial sun rays and walking the dirt road around my valley. I walked up this larger hill, overlooking the valley, and was amazed. I will try to put up a photo of this view, but its simplistic beauty is simply indescribable. Walking in such a calm and rich place (rich in ways I have not even begun to comprehend), I began to think that I could very easily live here for quite a while. As I was contemplating such elitist Alexander-the-Great-esque pursuits, the young heifer behind me begins to become a bit perturbed. I look over at him, and he bows his head, ready for battle. In the state I was in, I almost charged right at him. I was seeking a challenge, and charging a young bull would certainly constitute one. Instead I turned a shoulder the other way, inhaling the fresh air, digging my toes into the clay-orange dirt, reaching down for a discarded fruit rind, and tossing it next to the cow. I hope he will understand my plight as I continue to respect his. I also hope he doesn't charge me on my run tomorrow morning.

Sibba Bulungi, or Good Afternoon,

Ben

A Meal of Firsts

After polishing up my basic Lugandan, with new phrases such as “Okuseera!” or “don't overcharge me,” I thought I was ready for the market. Our last night together as interns led us to the market, preparing a meal to serve for 35 people (this was also Jordan's going away party). I was appointed the 'chicken man,' and prepared a Chicken Raguu with tomatoes, onions, and carrots, and 'Southern Fried Chicken. Quick kitchen description - a smoky oven with a baby crying, an electric stove that barely functioned and another stove that was run by a propane tank (which soon ran out of gas), and a wonderful housegirl named Grace who showed me the ways of hacking a chicken – I would be understating the richness of this evening if I only called it a 'learning experience.' This was a complete immersion in Ugandan culture, beginning with the kitchen. I suppose you could say that my internship with St. Jude with be a transition to another core of Ugandan rural life, and that is the use of the land.

With orientation wrapped up today, discussing Budget and Work Plan preparation, I am more than ready.

I have arrived. The gates to my compound (literally) open up, and I am greeted by an open space, the chatter of chickens, dogs, and rabbits in the background, and the housekeeper 'Chaz' hammering in nails in a shed in the back. Unfortunately, Josephine Kizza is busy with meetings in Kampala, but even better – I have two mothers! Josephine's sister, Maria, or Mama Muto, greets me with her two god-children, 3 year-old Josephine and 4 year-old Paya. The children kneel down to me, and show such immense respect for those older than them. I am shown around the house, settling my things down into one of the girls' rooms. I soon realize that the house is not as full of children as I thought it would be – they are all away at school! Most children here attend boarding school, and two of Josephine's daughters have graduated from university and are already living in homes of their own in Masaka.

No matter – still such a beautiful home. Tiled floors, a nice television, accompanied by the traditional aspects of Ugandan life such as the kitchen, the tea (we have tea and biscuits at 6 PM and dinner at 8 or 9 PM!), and the family (the children sit on a straw mat on the tiled floor while the adults sit on couches). We watch TV, talk some, although Mama Muto's English is a bit rough, and I explain to here my passion for the simplicity of farming. I show her the hand-written card, thanking her, Josephine and the family for welcoming me, and she is pleasantly surprised (and entertained) to see that I have also written the letter in Lugandan.

I meet Frank, a local boy who works at St. Jude, and also Agee, a Japanese volunteer who has been here for 14 months and has his own farm nearby – these are experienced colleagues I will be working with. As I sit here writing this journal, the bugs begin to emerge and I must rest for the night – early morning tomorrow with tea at 7 AM and catching a ride with the St. Jude car to Masaka shortly thereafter. A thirty to forty minute drive is needed to get to 'downtown' Masaka, although that means a few main roads, dirty paths, and grassy hills. Look at the wonderful traditional shirt I bought today, only 7,000 shillings (about $3.50)!

Looking forward to the first day of work on Monday, and I will update you sometime next week.

Sula Bulungi (Good Night),

Ben

Another Update - Cultural Expression

Been awake for about an hour now, at least I slept for a good while (we, as in Mike and the two Ugandan university students, Joseph and John, fell asleep watching Bayern Munich lose to AC Milan). Soccer is god here, by the way.

So quick update:

- learning Lugandan greetings, which are extended exchanges with varying levels of formality, each specific to the morning, afternoon, and evening. Most importantly, I've learned to say "I'm sorry" and "I don't understand," Simanyi and Nsonyiwa respectively. We went shopping today, and then for a 'cultural dance event,' which I explain at the end of this post. Aside from the lack of sleep I feel great - despite a huge lunch of Indian food and fresh pizza for dinner. I think I will simplify my diet today, just to be safe. I am enjoying the city ammenities, level of development, and sights, but I am definitely eager to get to Masaka - a smaller, simpler, cleaner, cooler, and safer town. We also had safety orientation yesterday, and that was, well, obvious. What was nice, though, was talking at length with Jordan, our FSD site coordinator, about his experience living and working here. I am also beginning to see the personal difficulties that ex-pats have in living and working here, especially in the NGO world (not many friends back home, iffy relations with families, lonely lifestyle, etc.). As much language, culture, attire, and behavior I may be able to adopt while I am here, I will never be Ugandan; yet, there is certainly a purpose to the presence of anyone is anywhere doing anything - it's just a matter of finding that purpose and owning its focus and meaning. We shall see what focus and meaning begin to emerge over the next week.

Will update you when we arrive in Masaka.

Tulabagané, or see you later!

A Performance to Remember:

We enter a 'cultural center' of sorts, with those big straw huts, art on the walls, these guitar-like instruments that look like miniature boats.

Walking into what appeared to be an open stadium, with terraced levels for tables, I see an open performance space with drums and instruments lined up.

What followed was a performance never to forget, simply Chirunji (Beautiful), as each ethnic tradition of Uganda was performed and explained with such passion of expression.

The dancers and singers, with their vigor and spirit, were all young. These youth, close to my age, were living their tradition, retaining in the face of such adversity. I have never before seen such cultural authenticity, such important expression, such incredible joy. We laughed, cried, and danced our way through the night, ending up on stage at the end of the performance.

What a night!

Will post once I am in Masaka, wrapping up orientation and preparing to move in with my host family on May 27th.

Sula bulunji! Good night!

Ben

The Initial Arrival

From my blackberry, as I can't sleep and don't want to wake the two younger college boys (rising sophomores from Gettysburg College and UNC) with my laptop:

When we landed at 645 PM last night, earlier thab expected, I was eager to land with some daylight remaining. That hope quickly faded as the sun was darting down the horizon like it was late to a meeting on the other side of the world, and I knew we had landed right on the equator. I walked off the plane into a bright and humid airport, a brightness that soon faded into a dimly lit darkness when we exited the airport with our luggage to the van. Two short men, appeared to be twins, fit as I hope to be by the end of this summer, load our luggage into two cars, and count 11 Americans - they keep telling us there should be 15 of us, and without an answer, I tell them that only the strongest survived the flight (a sleepless one, mind you).

The drive was peaceful, with explained majors, work assignments (they range from AIDS to microfinance) and hometowns - our two older guys, Ian and Luke, are both '05 Stanford grads - and I will be picking Ian's ear, as he begins at Duke's Env. Management master's program in the fall, arguably the best env. graduate school in the country. We are greeted at the guest house by a warm and motherly hotel manager, a candle-lit compound with picnic tables and a surprising deficit of mosquitoes, and told that we have arrived on the shortest day of the year. I can personally attest that yesterdat felt like the longest day of the year.

Chosen bedrooms and a delicious pumpkin soup later, I crashed. For about 3 hours. I finally slept solidly until 7 AM, and now as I finish this e-mail, the birds begin to quickly chirp and awaken, and the sun is faintly creeping up, waiting, I know now, for its hast race up the horizon.

My curiosity draws me to go and explore thse sounds (and take the 10 minute walk to Lake Victoria), and begin the day's adventure. So long for now, loved ones - the next few days are filled with orientation, language training, and meeting our host family. Masaka, here I come!

I am NOT A TERRORIST: My little manifesto to change the world, one round table at a time

Hey Everybody,

Sorry for the title. It was a bit out of line, but you never know nowadays who is reading these blog posts, and I just wanted to be very clear that I have NO AFFILIATION WHATSOEVER WITH ANY OF THOSE CRAZY GROUPS. I don't cut gas lines, I don't throw brick through windows, and I certainly don't engage in international espionage whatever-that-is-tactics.

I wanted to tell you all that this week has been a hurricane.

I have met the mayor of my city twice in the past 12 hours, and there is a small chance he may be coming to my college for Earth Day. Quite surprising, until you realize that most people on campus don't know who he is, or just assume he is already corrupt. A pretty sad political climate we live in.

But here is the thing: I think we are at a crossroad.

Down one path is the status quo (more industry bubbles, more genocide, more corruption, more greed, more hatred at the polls, etc.) -- perhaps leading to some unfortunate end.

Down the other path is something makes us human not just democratic but human, and that is cooperation. It is bringing as many people to the table as the table can hold, and asking them all 1. What do We want (core things) 2. How different are each of our paths to reach this table (how we see one another) and 3. What are our limitations (time, people, and money).

So this alternative path is a bit tricky, because as an old friend and mentor, Robert Lowe, once said "Any organization or body of organized individuals, as the group ages, will become more and more bureaucratic. It must either evolve, adapt, and self-reflect to avoid this stagnant inefficiency, or it will continue down that path to complete bankruptcy and dysfunction." He pretty much said that.

So I feel that this alternative path is based on some key things that WE CAN ALL PRETTY MUCH AGREE ON (shocking, really) -- I talked about these things with journalists, community organizers, passionate socialists, and frustrated conservatives. As one of the frustrated conservatives, my former fraternity brother, stood atop a washing machine shouting down "LABOR UNIONS ARE THE REASON WHY MY FAMILY IS POOR", I began to understand, through his rage and anger (I'll get to rage and anger at the end), what exactly he was saying.

Core things to agree on:

- People should earn what they have (and understand why they have earned it)

- People should be treated, talked about, and classified equally regardless of sex, race, or any other demographic qualifiers.

- Society should not take what people feel they have rightly earned, although if any decisions are made about "communities", these decisions are made democratically.

- The absolute definition of democratic decisions, from our founding fathers, was a 1 to 1 vote. Now on a national level, I think this is slightly impossible -- BUT on a local, regional, neighborhood, business-wide, city-wide level, perhaps, this is much more achievable.

- What is above is pretty much core to grassroots organizing and coalition building. It is also core to the organization of a cooperative structure (it is seen in Fair Trade businesses and farming communities around the world).

- When we engage with one another about these changes that need to be made, we need to be civil, respectful, and willing to listen. **Note: This one is the hardest to have everyone agree on!

In essence, I want to say that in a time of scarcity, it is so easy to divide up. It is so easy to divide up and yell at one another from across the fence (or fences), never willing to even see who or what is on the other side of the fence. We can all agree that this too is a problem.

So think of scarcity and global recession as like this GIANT MONSTER, and we are on, say, the movie "Starship Troopers" (love that movie). It is really to get scared, pissed, off and split up -- But, in the case of this movie, we would all probably die. Not good.

I think it is within our biological makeup to work together, it is within our evolutionary "common sense" to allow for things like competition, people earning what they have, and having the most hardworking people emerge as the strongest (now we could be going down a slippery path to social darwinism with this, so it is important that we are aware of what Hitler was thinking 70 years ago).

So, now that we are talking about biological makeup, I will bring up the the "rage and fear" discussion. My good friend I met this week, David Shipler (a wonderful author and human being), talked about this as well. There is also an incredible Radio Show that speaks about this, and if you have the time you should listen to all of it.

Basically this world-renowned psychologist Michael McCullough studied human brains under certain behaviors. He looked at brains when we were enacting revenge or seeking revenge, and the brain patterns he saw (whatever those look like), were almost identical to those of craving, those of desire, those of thirst and hunger.

These are, for the most part, unquenchable and unending desires, and they serve an ancient evolutionary purpose. Well Dr. McCullough thinks that purpose has expired, and that we live in an age where this behavior of rage "cravings" is simply disadvantageous to our species.

Then he looked at forgiveness, he looked at people who were in the act of forgiving. Their brains, I believe, were very similar to feelings of pleasure, calm, and things like hypertension and blood sugar were of course at lower levels.

So we are a dichotomous species in that these two ways of behaving oppose one another. One says "An eye for an eye", one believes in the Body of Law and Justice (which, by the way is not perfect) , and the other is something else altogether.

Maybe we can learn about from our relatives.

He first spoke of his son, who is 6 or 7 years old. When his son accidentally kicks him in the face, breaks his glasses, Dr. McCullough is certainly flustered at first, but not angry. He doesn't punish his son, or kick him back. This is simple and makes perfect sense in the scale of family dynamics.

Then he spoke of Timothy Mcvey and the unibomber, and that when McVey had been sentenced to death, someone spoke up against his execution. It was the father of one of the girls who had been killed. This man said that his daughter's death should not warrant more pain and suffering, and that he had already seen enough death and destruction and did not want any more. Furthermore, this man was at McVey's execution, and was consoling the father of Timothy McVey, who was obviously distraught. Before McVey was put to death, the father of this murdered girl said to McVey's father "What a remarkable human being. What a shame to put him to waste."

This is the essence of forgiveness.

He then went on to talk about Joseph Kony and his child soldiers in Uganda. The cultural devastation is immense, as thousands of women have been raped, entire villages and communities disbanded, and thousands of children forced to do horrific things. Before the children are taken to the forest to be brainwashed, they are forced, in front of their parents, to kill their siblings. This way if the children ever escape, they have no way of returning to their families.

Some pretty awful stuff is going on here.

Basically the Acholi tribe, the group that has seen the worst of Joseph Kony's wrath, is singing these songs. These songs are beautiful and you should go to the show and listen to them.

The songs are asking Joseph Kony to join them in peace. The songs are forgiving Joseph Kony.

So I spoke to a few professors about all of this, and they think that societies, groups, countries, they all come to such a point of exhaustion, such a point of "We have had enough pain and suffering" -- That they forgive. They ultimately forgive, and we all should ultimately forgive.

So back to Birmingham.

I was speaking with John Archibald last night, who is the most knowledgeable person in the state about Alabama politics, and I asked him that when, and not if, we go to the polls, or when we go to the voting booth, should we vote/answer with the range and anger and revenge that is so easy to feel (when are scared), or should we go with a different mentality?

Certainly not a mentality of vague principles such as "Hope", or "Change", for example (don't know where I got those); but instead, we are hoping for something real and changing something specific.

I also met with 7 Alabama universities and colleges yesterday, under this same principle. We are forming a coalition and if you would like to join us please e-mail me.

This is the essential crossroad we face: Will we join the factions of hate, anger, and revenge, or have we really had enough?

Is it time to forgive and come together? Isn't this what our melting pot of a democracy is all about?

So please come to the table. Please join us not in revenge or hatred, but in forgiveness.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. I'm going to go do homework now.

- Ben

A Conclusive Note

Hey World,

Again I apologize for the lack of consistent posts. In spite of the digitalized world we live in, I do not enjoy staring at screens all day.

1. Bullet-Point Recap of the Most Amazing Four Weeks EVER

2. A Lengthy and Conclusive Reflection

Recap:

- Wrote a lot for my internship (articles for publication, edits to website, research, etc.)
- Worked some more on Fair Trade the White House
- Officially elected as Southeast Regional Coordinator for the United Students for Fair Trade (www.usft.org)
- Met some incredible students at the CAP Campus Progress Conference
- Heard speakers Bill Clinton, Van Jones, Kathleen Sibelius, Nancy Pelosi, and some awesome spoken word artist (her poem is at the end of this post)
- Met some inspiring organizers, journalists, and young people
- Networked with some incredibly talented and passionate students (Daniel Marbury at U of Alabama...great guy.)
- Plan to host Alabama Powershift 2009 -- hosted by newly-formed/thought of C.A.S.E. (Coalition of Alabama Students for a Sustainable Environment)
- Almost done applying for Campus Progress Grant, to fund enAct's 2009 activities
- Networked with some Energy Action Coalition leaders, will meet them in office next week
- Bought ticket to Nicaragua! Now leaving DC on July 28th... :(
- Preparing for a special visitor :)
- Cooked A LOT (too many recipes to list, but a highlight was a blueberry-rhubarb cobbler)
- Did jumping-jacks in Senate Offices (protesting with www.avaaz.org -- a part of PowerShift)
- Baby-Sat a few times
- Saw a great movie (Vicky Christina Barcelona... very good)
- Museum -- Corcoran, the last weekend for the Mya-Lin exhibit, absolutely phenomenal
- Created a twitter (bendtracy)

- Housesat in Cheverly -- lots of fun playing with Ruby the beagle!
- Met some very important DC alumni
- Became committed to a very important person

- Had a wonderful weekend with said person, seeing FRESH the movie and enjoying perfect DC summe weather

I have to jump in on a conference call with fellow USFTers who I will be going to Nicaragua with, BUT:

I feel like it is vital to extract as much out of this experience as possible. It is not necessary to conclude with a final precipice of personal growth, that nothing further could possibly result from these summer connections; however, I certainly feel moved by the events in the past 2 months.

I believe now, more than ever, that I must be connected on a deeply personal, cultural, economic, environmental, and physical level to my work. For this reason (and amidst some personally trying economic times) I will not continue my two work studies at BSC. Waiting tables, working for non-profits (perhaps government) will take up my weeknights and normal "work-study hours".

DC has given me both breadth and depth in some of the most influential working fields of our time. Now, more than ever, these careers (lobbyists, journalists, politicians, campaign advisers, think tanks) serve such an important place in our world--creating a central hub of attention and impact, and will continue to do so for at least another three years (especially when the Dems lose an expected 30 House seats in 2010...). I respect their work immensely and I am forever grateful for personally meeting them, hearing their anecdotal reflections, and their hopes for the future.

I may not return to this city. Perhaps it is another self-created, angsty, self-fulfilling psychosomatic prophecy that is such an insufferable product of our generation, but I have an underlying feeling of being ideologically isolated, and perhaps distant. Not in terms of beliefs, character, of patriotic duty, but rather the action that should result from these beliefs. I question its impact, I question its connection with the real world and not another glowing rectangle from which one may extract a "career" of sorts. I question it all.

The seduction of this city is overwhelming. Its activity is beautiful, its people are knowledgeable, diverse, and hard-working. Its impact and importance unquestionably unmatched.

Its work may not be for me. Just yet at least.

(I apologize for my generalized brevity, but this blog is really for myself...sorry)

Plan for the week is:

-- Meeting Tues. night with political events NY Times reporter Adam Nagourney

-- Dinner with Jeremy Bird, Director of the DNC and played a critical role in Organizing for America (essentially Obama's campaign). Hope for some wise words from him.

Will return to Atlanta (safely) on Tuesday afternoon and leave for Nicaragua on Wednesday.

Best wishes to all - Bon soir, Hasta Luego, Ciao

-- "On ne voit qu'avec le coeur. L'essential est invisible pour les yeux". - Victor Hugo

My Week and -- A Reflection on Media and Lobbies, the two "other" branches of Government

Activities this week -- Then an interesting reflection!

- Lunch with Dotty Lynch at CBS was WONDERFUL (more on it at the end)
- Went to Charlotte, visited my increasingly effervescent grandmother, Marilyn
Cooked: spinach, onion, and garlic-infused turkey meatballs
Baked sweet potatoes
Garlic Bread
Delicious, cheesy, butter cracker-crusted green bean casserole
Buttered Almond-toasted Salmon roast
Mixed salad greens
and... Pesto! Easily blended with walnuts, olive oil, some seasonings, basic, and parsley
*Please note that Robin (my brother's fiancee) and I make a GREAT cooking team
- Great drive back from Charlotte through the mountainous forest (or something like it)
- Babysat for little Dana on Monday night -- But:
In the process, got stuck behind the awful train collision. This was a very interesting and fortunate experience for me, as our jam packed train car (body-to-body) was stuck in a dark tunnel, lights are out, air conditioning is off. Everyone is complaining, sweating, completely unaware of how fortunate we were to be delayed rather than injured. The two-hour delay made me feel very lucky to be alive.
- Had lunch with a long-standing lobbying firm, the Duberstein Group -- very interesting (more on it at the end)
- Applied to be the United Students for Fair Trade (funded by the Tides Foundation) Southeast Regional Coordinator. I would serve on the national Coordinating Committee, and attend a summit in Nicaragua from July 29th-August 11th (my boss said this was okay to skip out early on the internship to attend). I spoke with one of the students running the committee, and she said I was highly qualified and no one else had applied for the position. So you may here some very good news from me very soon!
- Rest of the week is as follows:
Today -- Run from work to Senate office building for CAP Progressive Job Training
-- Try to hitch a ride to Anacostia for a UF game at 6 30
-- Hang out w/Jerry and watch "I love you, Man" -- I'll miss that cynical bastard.
Thursday -- 9 AM meeting with Sarah Doughton for Service Learning DC trip in January, at The Pilgrimage (awesomely cool service organization in DC)
-- After-work South African Fair Trade Wine-Tasting at the Embassy. I have to pretend to be important, basically. And free wine is a no-brainer!
-- Dinner with Sarah & company (I hope)
Friday --I'll be doing this -- for as long as I can, then taking up a week's worth of clothes and groceries about 10 miles east to Cheverly, a beautiful, quaint small town (hopefully getting a ride...). I'll be housesitting until the morning of July 4th. Woot!
Saturday -- 10 AM Special Holocaust tour w/the Harvard folks... and a private tour of the museum's new Genocide exhibit by the museum's Chair of the Committee of Conscience, Mike Abramowitz.
-- Exploring Cheverly with my new friend, the dog I'm taking care of (who's name I admittedly cannot remember... oh well.)
Sunday -- Cheverly farmers' market opening?? We shall see...


Reflection -- Media and Lobbies, the Two "Other" Branches of Government:
*to better understand how both of these relate to health care, lobbying, and capitalism as a whole, please read this wonderfully-long interview with Robert Reich. I've e-mailed him the reflection below and hope to hear from him soon.

So I was able to have wonderful conversation with Dotty Lynch and 10 other Harvard students at CBS HQ last Wednesday. She is a very open and personable woman, with years of experience behind Political Science research, campaign work, teaching at American University, and news corresponding. She has seen it all, from the beginning of Today in Washington news summaries, to the growth in poll reliability (amidst recent failures in even Presidential elections), to campaign news strategy.

Through our conversation, I feel that I now see media as such a vital role to government -- especially in elections. Media is an important dialogue, it is a vital (and profitable) outreach and advertising tool, and it can, at times, assist us in truly understanding (as a general and very distracted public) what is going on in Washington. I certainly was interested by our conversations about certain campaigns, about the semantics in reporting campaign polls and election results (as speedily and accurately as possible), and how she has experienced these all first-hand. It was fascinating, informative, and incredibly invaluable.
I do not think I want to follow her career path...not sure on this yet.

-----So yesterday I had lunch with the Duberstein Group with Ken Duberstein and the other heads (cannot remember their names, but they all looked pretty old and wealthy). These people are a relatively small lobbying firm, but have been in the business for over 20 years with clients that we come to know as the "bad guys". Exxon, Shell, Big Medical Insurers, airlines, BP, GM, the list goes on and on... all forking up hundreds of thousands to have their say towards politicians. Ken was Reagan's Chief of Staff, among other Executive and Legislative positions, and his partner was the recent-Bush's Assistant for Legislative Affairs. These guys know their stuff.

What is ironic is that Ken Duberstein is pretty left wing (on his left was the more leftist partner, on his right the former Bush appointee). It is ironic, at first, to think that these contrasting political affiliations and opinions can come together to do something we generally view with such a negative stigma. But it makes sense. Consensus = political and organizational functionality = employment = lots of $. So it is a logical progression, albeit a selfish one, for them to work together. It also makes sense that on Capitol Hill they've worked for republicans and democrats alike, making the appropriate contacts simply for the sake of making contacts so that they could be successful lobbyists. I don't see any ethics in there but certainly an abundance of capitalist logic.

Their work, I now understand, is pretty important federal political funcitonalism. It is almost a seeminlgy symbiotic relationship, our conversation convinced me of, among other things, that lobbyists retrieve, as a costly service, the arguments from certain economic and populus constituents. They organize the dialogue and deliver importantly trustworthy information to senators and congressman. In this regard, and out of Ken Duberstein's mouth, "The President is the most effective lobbyist there is". Money is always an issue. What is ironic, however, is that we usually assume that lobbyists are throwing money at the politicians for their favorable interest, but rather it is the other way around-- Ken gets at least 10 emails a day from congressman and senators asking for money... there's your irony. Also in terms of money, lobbyists have to play by the rules. They often times do not (Madhoff scandal, etc.) and in Ken's opinion, we will see a lot more scandals emerge over the next 6 months regarding the politicians and lobbyists who did not play by the rules.

I see that as a good thing.

I also understand this relationship much better, and how much of a powerful role it plays in campaigns and bills (before they even reach the floor!). Lobbying is truly another branch of government, but at this point, not one I want to work in. I certainly appreciate the value of these experiences that I am having and the lessons I have gained, but I am increasingly frustrated with the lack of connection that these careers have to my beliefs. I feel more ideologically distant, in some ways, than I ever have before. I have not yet decided if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

Maybe some dam comments would help! If you have read this entirely-too-long blog then I would appreciate some feedback. Thank you!

Uh-Oh -- Catch UP!

Hey Guys,

I decided to step on my computer screen, thereby cutting my daily computer access in half.

Sorry.

Quickly, a re-cap of the activities in the past 11 days (again... not in order at all):

- 2 conference calls (one with Fair Trade the White House Campaign -- www.fairtradethewhitehouse.com, the other about a e-mail action alert, asking thousands to call in to Hershey's HQ in PA and ask them to go fair trade)
- A nice CAP presentation (Middle East, Democracy, and Human Rights -- more on this at the end)
- Finished the Fair Trade Alliance Newsletter, my boss is sending it out today :)
- Got my application for CAP's Campus Progress conference accepted, and also got accepted to the Grassroots Training Day and Lobby Day on Capitol Hill
- Had breakfast with former Harvard Institute of Politics Director, and now Senator of New Hampshire, Jean Shaheen. Had a nice talk with her about domestic climate change policy vs. int'l climate change negotiations w/China... very down to earth, nice woman.
- Had some interesting times with fun people
- Was quite embarrassed at the Ultimate Frisbee Clinic... we have a game on Wednesday.
- Spent the weekend with my 10 year-old cousin, Dana. Very relaxing, played Wii, went to the pool, fun stuff.
- Saw the Phillips Museum (for free) and heard the most amazing Xylephone player (apparently world-renowned) jam out in the museum's auditorium. I really like that museum, and I also bought a $1 print there called "The Uprising" and on the print it says it is undated... but you can find the date online!
- Free Sausage Paella at the Dupont Farmers' Market... out of a 6-foot diameter pan... amazing.
- Danced some African dance at the Drum Circle on Sunday. Crazy people...
- More long phone conversations
- Lots of cooking: (sweet potato fries, risotto sweet potato and carrot pilaf, chickpea and fava bean soup, among other things)
- Helped my brother, Jerry, plant his basil, mint, and oregano.
- Met a wise man named Gordon at the CAP thing. He was very cool.
- Also met a woman who works for Southern Command (with the DOD) regarding Human Rights in Latin America... good networking.
- Ran into Art Richey (just about). He seemed very distracted.
- Called Dell about the laptop. Great, wonderful, productive conversation. I wish they spoke more like humans...

The event was entitled something like "Democracy, Human Rights, and Peace in the Middle East", but I feel that the panelists focused very little on human rights and instead painted a picture and dynamic of Western Democracy that I happen to fundamentally disagree with...

The issue of what to do with the Guantamano detainees, also related was the issue in Abu Ghraib, Morocco, China, etc... all surrounding it was a discussion of expected delays due to Obama's need for a "Comprehensive Plan" to send to the Senate on the step-by-step plan for Guantanamo, and ongoing negotiations with European Allies on their assistance with the detainees. This is all expected to take at least until the end of the year.

Meanwhile, while Obama's "rock-star" image stands fervently behind his words (at this point, only his words), judging by his Cairo speech last week, I feel like the concept of "public image" as a whole has taken a disturbing precedent over human rights.

What I mean is that Obama's image, the US's political posturing (such as placing domestic security over human rights), and the EU's timidness all seem to give me the impression that these people are not being seen as people first.

Rather, they are seen, treated, and discussed about as if they are detainees and political nuisances first, and seem to have already, in some ways, been attributed with the titles of "terrorist" and "criminal", for which they have not yet been convicted (by the way).

It is just me, or is altruism typically synonymous with democracy? Since when did this change?

This is wrong. As we sit in this wonderfully luxurious and air-conditioned room, eating our expensive Whole Foods salmon-asparagus sandwiches, these people are suffering. They are in terrible conditions, mistreated in many cases, perhaps tortured (although no longer in Guantanamo, this continues in Morocco). Our mistreatment of them provokes and encourages the jihadism and mujaheddin we seek to subvert, ironically enough. To me, this precedance of "Public Image" and "Political Functionality" over human rights is a fundamental problem with the perception and implementation of Western Democracy.

Obama speaks well, but calling for "reflection" in his Cairo speech is not only selfish, but it is downright ignorant -- in a time where revolution, action, and immediate change is needed, more "reflection" is the last thing the world needs.

UGH!

- And now... I am leaving in an hour to CBS studios for a free tour and discussion with one of their correspondents and former Harvard IOP fellow, Dotty Lynch.

Farewell for now.

My Week: Fighting Climate Change, Meeting the US Government, and Fixing Globalization

Hello Everyone,

So I was wrong. I apologize for assuming that this week would be much less eventful than the last (although Tuesday was a bit slow), but it certainly has not been so far. In fact, this week has been, in some ways, more intellectually engaging and more inspirational. Yesterday, after an early breakfast (7 45) with Carmen, director of the Fair Trade Federation (we both ended up at the wrong restaurant, and walked together to the correct one, talking about what I should do with my life...), **First** I rushed over to the Center for American Progress to see Todd Stern speak on Climate Change. He did not address climate change in the boring powerpoint that we have all come to know and fall asleep during, but rather, as the State Department's Special Envoy on Climate Change (global warming diplomat), he was able to address what may be the most essential bi-lateral relationship the world has ever seen: the United States and China.

He introduced the context of the need for this relationship very well, in that China has been on an average of 10% GDP growth per year for the past 30 years. They went from a GDP per capita (basically income per person) of around $400 in 1979 to nearly $5,000 today! Essentially, through the nearly exponential increase in carbon emissions from China, their growth in coal production, building the equivalent of four Boston's (in urban housing) every month, it has become evident (from a lot of people) that China's economic growth is not politically or environmentally sustainable. I was hearing from a few experts there that maybe reducing the growth to 5% would be appropriate, but the exact numbers have yet to be determined. In a very general sense, the purpose of Todd Stern's trip to China over the next month is to engage in discussion (already begun) about China a) leading the world in emissions, and how this can change, b) straddling the divide between the developing and developed world, and c) leading the developing world in climate change policy and overall carbon emission reduction. These negotiations are essential in setting forth a diplomatic consensus of some kind before the World Climate Summit in Copenhagen in December (it is not that we expect China to mirror our climate actions, or those of Europe, but rather to adopt an effective climate policy of some kind, or that scientists can approve).

So I am pretty sure that these discussions, negotiations, and diplomatic consensus can be reached by December, but I am not 100% sure that the US will have things sorted out on the homefront. I am referring to the Waxman-Markey Bill, the piece of climate legislation currently before Congress. If Congress and the Senate don't get this through, and signed to some extent, by December, then I see the 'developing world', and perhaps China, pointing their fingers saying "How can you ask us to lead the world in fighting global warming when your own country cannot even come to an agreement??". This is obviously the worst case scenario, yet it happened at Kyoto in 1997.

Finally, I am optimistic that this relationship can come to fruition in the way that Todd Stern envisions it, that the US Climate Bill can be signed or agreed upon by December, and that Copenhagen can bring the countries of the world to say "Hey, let us save ourselves, together." Only time will tell...

**Second** So this morning, I got up to bike a ways down Florida Avenue (in the rain) to attend a "Round Table" of Fair Trade labeling organizations, advocacy and trade federations, cooperatives, and other anti-sweatshop non-profits. I ran into my boss, Samm, along the way and we biked together in the rain. The purpose of the meeting was to ensure that Fair Trade standards and labels were guaranteeing a reduction in poverty and a prevention of child labor.

Well, problem was that this agenda was extremely vague, and that it is very rare that the director of FLO (the global fair trade labeling organization) in Germany, is in the same room with the US cooperatives that operate under its label (it is sort of a geographic and cultural divide). For that reason, the discussion became extremely interesting. With development organizations such as the Catholic Relief Services accusing the director of FLO for being both a "development organization" and a "labeling organization" (without adequately doing the job of either), and cooperatives complaining that these labels are losing their trade effectiveness, consumer ethical guarantee, and FLO (nice Finnish woman, Tuulia, but she was just hired in February!) simply trying to keep up with all the questions, I was grinning the whole time (and writing, of course). The problem is an overselling, or overpreaching, or overbranding of what are essential fair trade principles--labor conditions, env. standards, etc.--without the adequate monitoring and enforcement to back them up. The balance between the rhetoric of Fair Trade and its actual reality is at a very influential point in time, and it was wonderful to be a fly on the wall in this room. Furthermore, I began to see the whole interconnectedness of worldviews and how it related to what I want to do with my life (this a long side-tangent). I wrote an application for a Campus Progress Conference at the Center for American Progress (it's in July -- I haven't gotten in yet), and my short application essay read as follows:

It is my personal creed, or ideal, that belief without action holds very little value or meaning to the world (I believe this may be closely aligned with what some schools of philosophy call "American Pragmatism"). People may discuss things, propose ideas, even organize themselves--but without action, all of this activity never seems to come to fruition. It is this fruition which I seek to know to enable, and this has brought me to apply for the 2009 Campus Progress National Conference. Whether it be an environmental movement for a sustainable food system in my city, Birmingham, a rally against an unethical and illogical government bill, or simply voting in one's local election, these values must come to fruition and they must be followed by action. Personally, I hold many different values about society, government, and our economy. It is not necessarily my prerogative to transfer these values onto everyone, but rather to engage others and act based on our collective values. Furthermore, I seek to enable others to do the same. Civic engagement, to me, epitomizes this belief, and my attendance at this conference, I hope, will add to the skills, knowledge, experience, and networking needed to achieve this goal. I define the very loose idea of "progress" as acting on one's values--collectively, effectively, and sustainably. It betters our own lives by connecting our morals to our actions, bridging illogical cultural barriers, and bringing humans everywhere together for a common purpose. I hope that I will be able to join others at the 2009 Campus Progress National Conference, and that through meaningful workshops, social networking, and whatever else may take place, we will all learn to collectively act based on our values.

So what I began to realize while hearing all of this, and it really became an out-of-body experience (I did however continue to take notes), was that my belief in the world, what I wanted to do with my life, summarized in the essay above, connected to the overarching theme of this Fair Trade discussion: SO WHAT IF IT IS WHAT YOU BELIEVE IN, IS IT WHAT YOU DO? Volume vs. Impact, Preaching vs. Practicing, they are all dichotomies that we face every day. It is beyond a doubt, the most comforting feeling I have ever felt, to know that I am on the correct side.

I choose to wake up everyday and enjoy the world, better the world, and appreciate her beauty. The world was not made for humans, but rather we were made for her. This is my belief, and it directly correlates with my action; in fact, my action probably preceded the clarification of this belief (which may be problematic at times). I encourage you all to follow this same motto, not necessarily this same belief, but to live life to its fullest and let your beliefs guide your actions!

That is all, I will stop preaching for now. Sorry for the prolongued patronization.

Inspiration

Sorry to overload you with posts, but my mind is glowing after reading this. This blog has nothing to do with what I did today in any directly descriptive way. It is an incredible, inspirational, heartfelt speech delivered by Steve Jobs at the commencement address at Stanford in 2005. I feel that it can most certainly impact anyone who takes the time to read the entire text of his speech, so I hope each of you who reads this blog post will do just that. Big thanks to Kait for the text itself. Enjoy.

This is the text of the Commencement address by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, delivered on June 12, 2005, at Stanford.

"I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories. The first story is about connecting the dots.

I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.

And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.

It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5¢ deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example: Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.

None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, its likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.

Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something - your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life. My second story is about love and loss.

I was lucky – I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation - the Macintosh - a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.

I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down - that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me – I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.

I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.

During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the worlds first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I retuned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.

I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle. My third story is about death.

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything – all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.

This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope its the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma - which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park , and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and Polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. Thank you all very much."