Saturday, February 21, 2009

an open letter.



As a student in one of the public school systems of the metro-Atlanta area from kindergarten to high school graduation, I have a lot to be thankful for—a great appreciation for cultural diversity, a life-long commitment to community service, and a love for learning that was fostered by so many teachers and mentors along the way. As a child of the urbanscape; however, I suddenly find myself disadvantaged at all things deemed ‘rural,’ in particular, the process of organic and sustainable agriculture, both critical components of the degree that I am currently seeking. Of course, I can fondly recall planting butter bean seeds in moistened paper towels and watching as the xylem and phloem in celery stalks imbibed red and blue food coloring, but what about understanding our global and local food systems, the very production of the food we eat, and the alternatives that we have as city residents? Perhaps these seem like politicized topics beyond the comprehension capacity of a third grader, but I would like to argue that a more extensive education that encompasses issues of food security, self-production, and health over the span of a public school education is not only possible but should be considered a responsibility of educators to their students. These issues should be incorporated into both the classroom curriculum and also the life training that students receive while at school. The introduction of community gardening and urban agriculture initiatives on school grounds, as part of an overall reform in localizing food systems, is a viable opportunity to build community and self-esteem in students and produce healthier livelihoods in children and their families.

In following the tradition of a liberal arts education that serves a number of students in the US university system, we need to build a curriculum that fosters curiosity and encourages experiential learning beginning in elementary school, creating underpinnings for a deeply rooted, yet ever dynamic education. Included in these foundations should be a deeper understanding of both the global and ecological communities that we are merely a part of. Arguably, a first grader may not understand the implications of monoculture crops on biodiversity, but a high school senior who learned in first grade the value of diversity on earth and something that seems as simple as where a seed comes from, is probably more likely to understand (and dare I say, care) about the effects of agribusinesses on our current state of global food insecurity. In fact, it is probably this young child who has the energy and gumption to challenge the current system and seek justice for the earth and all its inhabitants. After all, I wonder how many parents have finally gotten around to recycling because their child came home from school with the grand scheme of creating a recycling center in the backyard.

Educating our children should be conducted in a more holistic process that incorporates experiences within and beyond the classroom, providing opportunities for lessons on life and reflections on values. It is essential that students understand the choice that they have in the food that goes into their bodies and the process that that food endured to get there, whether it involved food miles, chemical inputs, migrant labor or perhaps, was even grown by themselves. We have a right to know what it is that we put into our bodies, and this knowledge stems from the education that we receive from the start. But, giving students information about the subject matter of food and health is simply not enough. The initiative to make classroom and schools gardens is an important way to promote urban agriculture while helping students understand the how’s and why’s to growing their own food. Don’t believe that agriculture is the answer for us city folks? Consider this: estimates show that 15-20 percent of the world’s food is produced in urban areas. Over the last few weeks I have been learning from small-scale organic and bio-intensive farmers in Costa Rica. In this time, I have noticed a common theme among the farmers in that their conversion to organic methods was not contingent upon fiscal gains but rather, reflected a livelihood transformation committed to health and sustainability for their families and their community. What’s more is that the majority of farmers with whom I spoke, engaged actively in the local schools, so passionate about their own livelihood changes that they were eager to share the knowledge and skills with the students of the local community.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Letting go.


True Statement: The unrealistic parameters that I have created for my life prevent me from fully living. I create these rules and timelines for what my life should look like. I measure out my serving of oatmeal out each morning. I time my runs and count crunches. I grow frustrated when I can’t learn something fast enough or when my work does not meet my expectations. I beat myself up over trying to please others or trying to fix things. I stew over things that I think I’ve done wrong, people that I’ve hurt or who have hurt me, or situations that I just can’t change. I seek to control what is out of my control, at the same time losing control, and just longing for someone else to take control. Funny. The worst part of it all is that I can realize all this and yet I just don’t want to let it go. Why is it so painful to let things go that prevent us from living the life that can be? [And I don’t mean the life that should be or would be (if only…)]

The moments I feel most alive are when I am dancing. Not at a dance class where I am bound to be self-critical or spend my time eyeing the moves of my neighbor. I am talking about middle of the field, drum circle, bonfire, dancing. For once, I don’t care who is there, who is watching me, what I am doing. Not self-conscious. Not shy. Not trying to please others. I am free to explore the rhythms, the energy, the environment. Trancelike I make my way to the center and spin and wave my arms, close my eyes, smiling, twirling, singing my own tune that has nothing to do with the music. There is nowhere else on earth that I should be at this moment. And I feel so alive. I can simply let go.

It is a feeling that, for me, is a conversation, a deep encounter with God. As I relinquish control and feel the energy around me it is the closest I come to knowing what it feels like to let go and simply live. In my opinion, it is a deep loss that the mystic components of many faith traditions are overlooked, scorned or deemed inappropriate for the mainstream institutions that we have created. I think the ancient faith followers understood something that we don’t and braved a tradition that allowed them to feel and experience God with senses that we are merely scared to discover. But, faith is going beyond what we know and the comfort and conformity that we abound in. We live life so rigidly and orderly that we cannot even imagine what it means to let go, embrace the very moment, the music, the context, the encounter. I am not saying we all have to dance. But, I do hope that we each find a release, a way to let go. To let go of the pain, the fears, the mistakes, the past, and find the forgiveness that each day brings and experience the community with God and each other that finally letting go allows.