The Streets of London and a Bridge in Portland, OR

There are weeks when I think, “I have no idea what to write in this week’s blog.”  Really.  Lots of them.  Then, without fail, events turn.  They may be close in like with bus rides, or widespread like weather, or painful like the death of a dear one.  They can also seem to have nothing to do with one another, and then, out of the nowhere of random neuron firings, I see… Read More

Interdependence

Today is only a day.  It is Saturday, the 4th of July weekend, and like every other day it has filled with moments linking up into hours, holding people and motion – holding change. This is how it went.  Sun rays angled across the morning sky.  I woke with two friends on my mind – two friends who are too close to death. Tom, a remarkable and kind educational leader, is here… Read More

Common Courtesy

It’s sunny in Portland OR and already in the 60’s at 12:24 p.m. on Saturday.  People are out everywhere and I’m walking west, nearing the center of the Steel Bridge, one of the ten bridges spanning the Willamette River and operated by the Port of Portland.  The water level is very high – highest since the flood of 1996.  As I walk onto the Steel Bridge, I’m guessing the bridge operators are… Read More

Grandmothers on Fathers’ Day

Two American Indian men stand together.  The Elder is Wyandotte and Choctaw of the Mississippi Valley; the younger is Walla Walla of the Columbia River.  They are of two generations and they are friends.  The men chat with one another during a break in a graduate class of mostly non-Indian students.  The students are preparing to be teachers and counselors and taking this course on contemporary Native American life. The older man… Read More

Soldiers Step to the Front

A young woman in camo was in front of me in the TSA line at the airport.  It was a long line.  I asked if she was headed home.  “Furlough,” she said.  “Afghanistan.”  We talked families and weather.  She said she’s in her second tour of duty.  Back to back.  “The reason I re-enlisted,” she went on, “well, it wasn’t because there’s any glory in it or anything.  It’s pretty much hell. … Read More

Everyday Desperate Measures

During the work week between 6 and 7 a.m., it’s a different kind of quiet on the streets of downtown Portland. All last week I walked downtown to catch the bus.  The weather was warming, the air softer to the touch.  I liked it. That time of morning, delivery people dot the grid of city streets.  They roll dollies with boxes of produce.  They use fork lifts to move reams of paper… Read More

Bin Laden’s Death & What We Really Want

I heard no fireworks.  In the center of the rural Midwest, I was aware of no celebrations – raucous or otherwise – in bars, in living rooms, in church fellowship halls. I was an outsider.  Just visiting.  I may not have been sensitive to the signs.  Midwesterners are also known to be a rather reserved bunch.  But, this winter I’ve had occasion to observe both Green Bay Packers fans and energized mass… Read More

Looking under the Hood — AKA Whiplash in Wisconsin

In American elections the principle of democracy known as majority rule is in play even if the majority doesn’t bother to vote.  This, naturally, is reflected in our elected officials.  Right?  Ask Wisconsin. Elections are about change.  They can be about democracy. Then there’s the notion of EX:Change.  It’s the idea I’ve been so captivated by since the 2008 presidential election and the electrifying cross-partisan enthusiasm for the word change. When change… Read More

Libya, a First Draft, and Pondering Truth

Back in the 2000, my friend Amy Schutzer published a novel she titled Undertow http://www.calyxpress.org/books.html.  She considered another title:  What Version of the Truth Do We Tell? I’ve just finished the first draft of 100 Voices:  Americans Talk about Change. Really!  The first draft toward publication in September, 2011.  That’s amazing enough, but the reason I mention it here has to do with truth.  It has to do with the incredible candor… Read More

Ice Cream with a Korean American Nuclear Physicist

St. Patrick’s Day began with a cultural experience.  I’m visiting rural Wisconsin.  I like it.  I like the people.  I’m learning from them.  The culture I encountered yesterday morning is not unique to Wisconsin, but it had its own uniqueness. At 7:30, nearing my favorite coffee shop, you know, the Sweet Spot I mentioned some weeks ago, I hear crowd noise from the very small downtown area (two and a half streets,… Read More