Friday, November 28, 2008

Thanksgiving

In the United States yesterday was Thanksgiving Day. For us it was been both a working day and a day of celebration.

Since before I left Toronto it has been on my agenda to do a video conference at an Alberta Government sponsored conference designed for front line service providers in their “developmental disabilities” sector. I made the conference developer aware quite awhile ago that I would not come to the physical location of the presentation – somewhere in Edmonton – but would broadcast myself by video hook-up to the participants. It has long been my dream to be able to take the message anywhere without always having to subject my body, my equipment and my personal assistants to the stress, fatigue and disruption that goes with touring conferences.

Over a year ago I began to develop the resources I would need to fulfill on occasions such as today. However – to cut a LONG story short – Wednesday evening Gabor and I, and even on Thanksgiving morning, I was putting the finishing touches on both the presentation and the steps needed to get Skype, the wireless headset, the air card and the webcam working with Erin and I, and the conference venue and organizers in a seamless way.

On top of ALL that, who knew, especially in Canada and so many months in advance, that Thursday, Nov. 27 would be Thanksgiving Day in the United States?!? Here the celebration is not like in Ontario. In Ontario the celebration is literally a movable feast. People line up their invitations and events so that they may go to a friend’s place on Saturday, a family on Sunday and another relative or friend on Monday. Here you have one shot, and everybody pretty much is organized to be gorging themselves, somewhere, with somebody at 6:00pm.

At River’s End a steady stream of RV’s of all sorts arrived on Wednesday, some even on Thursday morning. Sharon, a campground host, had been cooking since Wednesday afternoon. All campers were invited to a Thanksgiving feast, and expected to provide a dish from their own trailer’s kitchen. On Thursday morning I could easily observe a variety of culinary preparations underway on BBQ’s and under awnings sheltering portable tables.

However, in my eagerness to be “included”, and before I realized that I had in effect double booked myself, I had wheedled us an invitation to dine at the Stubers. Chloe Stubers and other members of the First Presbyterian Church were very helpful last January in getting our then team of five moved in and out of the three places we stayed that trip. In addition, Neel Foster, her mother, is a renown cook, an intriguing artist, and a warm funny companion. When we showed up to dinner two Wednesdays ago at the church I practically twisted her arm to invite us to HER house for Thanksgiving dinner. I think she was momentarily taken back by my boldness but politely and warmly acknowledged that we were invited.

Neither was Neel nonplused when I called her to ask if her house could be the venue for my video conference which would end a mere 15 minutes before dinner would be served.

So there we were, plugged into the family internet in the master bedroom, hiding away from the growing hub bub of large family Thanksgiving preparations, attempting to give a live video presentation to an unknown Albertan audience on the subject of Person Centred Planning. Sometimes my life seems surreal even to me!

I don’t know if I will ever know how it really went. I hope someone sends me the session feedback. Everything worked reasonably well on our side, except that when I put up slides apparently people could not hear my voice. So Erin and I put them up for 30 seconds each, then took them down as I continued my talk.

The really unfortunate part was that the media company we were working with were unable to give me return sound or video. It may have been some difficulty on our side – I am too new to Skype to know that yet. In any case the media representative left soon after my session. There was no one on the Alberta side left to set up some other sort of feedback for me to know how my audience (was there an audience) was receiving and responding to my talk, if they could read the slides or if there were questions and comments.

After a grueling hour the long anticipated video conference was over. Erin and I joined the extended Stubin/Foster family where the food and laughter were anything but grueling. We actually got to eat road kill! I will gladly tell you how that happened IF I get some comments and questions on this blog!!!

There is so much more that could be said. Let it suffice for now to write that tonight four of the young people we were with last night, on their way to a party, dropped into Avalanche, stayed for a cup of tea and some of Gabor’s techno music, took our business cards, shared Obama campaign stories, and promised to look into ways that we could talk at their peace groups, schools or clubs. Concern about my impact in Alberta faded in the certainty that yesterday we made a difference with some young people who are active and looking to make connections and bring a brighter future to our planet.

Judith

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Get Ready, Get Set, SPLAT

Just as things seemed to be getting sorted out, another wrench got tossed into the wheel. I use a computer program called Darci USB to type on and do the mouse controls of my computer. To access Darci I use a puff/sip control which gives me a “dot” when I suck (sip) and a “dash” when I blow (puff). I have used Morse Code since I was first introduced to a keyboard emulator that accepted it in 1986. It truly liberated me in that it made it practical and fairly fast for me to do my own input and writing. As e-mail and the internet became the primary tools of work life I was able to get into and keep up with the world of communication and influence in ways I could never have imagined even when I was dictating essays to willing volunteers at university.

I certainly could never have imagined the impact that mobile, trailer living is having on my daily life. Early last week I could no longer ignore that my puff/sip interface was sluggish and requiring ever greater effort to deliver the required sucks and blows. By Friday first Gabor, then David, spent hours with me cleaning old saliva out of ever deeper parts of the interface, and in the process, breaking part of the casing and discovering more and more both about how it actually works and how broken down it had become – a wire stripped here, a part of the breath pipe cracked there, etc. Nothing seemed to keep it working more than a few minutes before it again slowed down and became difficult to activate. Eventually I began to notice that the “dot” producing part was much improved, but the “dash” producing mechanism finally failed completely on Saturday.

In the meantime I had connected up with Skype, and just as I was finally able to make independent phone calls, (not having been able to do so since leaving Toronto on Oct. 24), I lost the capacity to do this AND keep up the blog AND keep up with Facebook and e-mail all in the same failure of a single switch. This was an unanticipated blow although the device itself is about eight years old. Somehow I never thought that continuous setting up and dismantling of a device that had been stationery for years could lead to its rapid deterioration!

A few hours later I remembered that Darci can run from a single switch. Erin confirmed with me that the second switch really is not functional, then we set out to discover if we could get me back to functionality with just one. Of course single switch puff/sip is just sip. I began to retrain myself in the required, quite different, mouth movements while both Erin and I tried to work out figure out what settings would make the device most workable for me. About two hours later after typing a page of gibberish I put out two sensible words – Hello, Erin. – and went to bed.

Sometime mid-morning today I realized that the third switch I have in my possession, the interface for my Tykkriphone – a puff/sip telephone dialer – is now redundant because I am not going to need a land line phone with Skype even when I do return to living in a house. I thought that perhaps we could combine the one functional switch from the Darci set up with the only switch from the Tykkriphone interface to make a new dual switch for Darci that would work like my now broken device.

At first we seemed defeated because, as luck would have, it both switches seemed to be suck ones. Trial and error revealed that the “A” tip could become the “B” tip, and finally I was back in dual switch mode, this time with two tubes in my mouth, but happily typing away at my usual 35+ words/minute and managing Skype, Facebook and Freecell all at the same time!

Thank god for willing assistants, ingenuity and duct tape.

Speaking of God, we have been to church 5 times since the Tour began – not something I could ever have imagined as part of our ongoing itinerary. Two Sundays ago I was invited to speak at the chapel of Erin’s former boarding school. Since then we have twice attended the mid-week church suppers at the First Presbyterian Church in Savannah, at whose retreat house I stayed for ten days last January.

Through a connection made at the Sentient Bean we were invited to attend yesterday’s service at Life Ministry in Chatham, next to Savannah. The singing was moving and the principal minister emerged as a very intuitive, energetically healing person. I went up for the laying on of hands, soon followed by Erin. I am not one to push the vision of World Peace through Inclusion as a religious message. Just the same the minister’s warm touch, empathic understanding and encouraging words raised my energy and spirit in the face of our uncertainty about exactly what we are doing or where the money is going to come from.

This morning we followed through on an invitation to go to the Eucharistic service at All Saints Episcopal Church on Jones St. in Tybee. Certainly not charismatic in nature, the service was still warm and energetic, and it was very familiar to me as I was raised an Anglican. The sermon was about inclusion and the importance of serving the “least” as much as the “greatest”. I partook of the Eucharist, and so did Gabor who, raised in a Communist European country, has never experienced this ritual before.

At coffee hour afterwards I had the opportunity to speak for a few minutes about the Tour. Our video camera worked and we caught it on tape, and several people took cards and suggested possible places where I can speak about Inclusion.

Later this afternoon we met with Tom and Betsy Kohler and they took the 30 second tour of Avalanche. Tom and I mapped out a strategy to spend time this week creating three or four opportunities that can lead to real results soon and in January.

All in all, a week that seemed fraught with energy and time draining difficulties has also led to several exciting potentials for fulfilling our commitment to the vision of World Peace through Inclusion.

Judith

Friday, November 21, 2008

Our New Home

Wednesday was moving day. I decided to roll down Jones Ave. while Gabor and Erin packed up Avalanche and drove to the River’s End Campground. We left with some regret because Kristin and Brad have been wonderful hosts, including in their hospitality full access to their hot tub and latte maker.

My personal trip from the south end to the north end of the island was engaging! Not being sure when I will get back I took an intentional side trip to the Back River Fisherman’s Pier. Yesterday was brilliantly sunny and very cold so I was bundled in a woolen hat, scarf and Columbian woolen poncho. I was a solitary visitor to the pier. It is impressive to be the only human observer to the power of the steady, almost relentless, flow of the river meeting the very different rhythm of the equally steady ebb and flow of the incoming tide. The sea water spreads over, the river flows under, slowly a four inch bore, almost lazily, creeps toward the shore. As I continued my journey northward a few minutes later I reflected on my own duel nature of apparent stillness and persistent drive.

In my reverie I failed to recognize that I had continued up Chatham Ave. and not up Jones. Fortunately over my last few visits to Tybee I have familiarized myself with the layout of the south end and I got myself back on track with no great anxiety or loss of time.

The nature of the town changes a lot going north. Within five or six blocks the traffic had picked up to such an extent that I frequently pulled off the road to ensure that drivers had plenty of room to go by me. There were no sidewalks until I reached 1st street (I started at 17th). After this there was a choice between bike lane and sidewalk, not all of which was in good repair.

Even as the urbanness of the environment increased it continued to be obvious that about 25 % of Tybee is up for sale and another 20 % is for rent. We have been checking out prices for a friend and it’s clear that everything is high priced, even ridiculously expensive. I wondered why people wouldn’t bring down their rents, encourage a lot more people of more modest means to come to the island and so renew the range of economic opportunities available to them. Then I considered that as much as I wish Tybeans were more generous I, myself, was developing an ungenerous attitude towards them, and that my real work, at least for the moment, is to sustain an open heart toward my neighbours.

As I passed 4th street I saw Bronte and Avalanche cross the intersection of Jones and 1st. About 15 minutes later I arrived at the campground where two camp staff people were assisting Gabor to take his second pass at parking Avalanche. That accomplished we purchased an extra length of sewer hose and with the cheerful and helpful advice of the man we now call Trailer Tom (we know several Toms!) we are now fully hooked in to a “proper” RV campsite for the first time since I purchased Avalanche on August 11.

Trailer Tom informed us that the Mayor of Tybee had called the owner of River’s End and requested that we be given a complementary place until February. I have a new sense of the generousity of the citizens of Tybee Island.

Judith

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Belated Thank You

Just a short post tonight. Scott Mills, a pro-youth and community cop in Toronto, attended our fund raiser on Oct. 23, and then posted these videos and photos. Thank you Scott!

Videos at:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zPGpe81N8xs&feature=related

and pictures at:

http://picasaweb.google.ca/scotmills/WorldPeaceThroughInclusionTour#

Time to Move On

(Originally written Monday, Nov. 17)
The Tybee Island City Manager came by today trailed by her assistant. A no nonsense middle-aged woman, she had a look around Avalanche then told us in a “brook no argument” way that it is not in her power to extend our 7 day permit and that getting a variance to the by-law stipulating that people can park their trailers next to houses but not live in them more than 7 days in a row 3 times a year would cost a minimum of $250 and take a month longer than we plan to be in Georgia. To her credit she promised that she would put in a good word for us with the owner of the trailer park at the north end of the island because she likes our Tour, and she did so. When Erin checked back with him a few hours later he had a spot for us and it has been left to Wednesday, when we must move, for us to find out if there will be a charge and if it will be less than the usual Tybee rate of $1000/mn.

The three of us met and about an hour later we were joined by Kristin Russell, the owner of the Sentient Bean and the partner of the man who owns the house where we are currently parked. We were engaged in frank discussion of how we are doing, how we can work together better and in what activities we can set up and/or join that will forward the objectives of the Tour more powerfully. I definitely feel that we made progress.

The idea that I feel the most excited about is for us to work with some active youth groups to create a local currency initiative. This would be different from other barter systems in that its intention would be to create exchange, inclusion and relationship more than to be a strict barter system. I think such a “game” could be powerful because it could give people a way to acknowledge and appreciate contributions that rarely get noticed in our typical economic system. Such a contribution is like when a person with Down Syndrome is very good at making people feel happy, or a child with learning challenges stimulates greater academic learning in other students. We quickly slipped into calling the potential medium of the currency “happy dollars”. This also reflects that it seems that creating such a game might help pull people out of the gloom that current economic difficulties have spread all over Savannah, and Tybee where ¼ of the properties are up for sale.

Now it is up to us both to get things underway and to find the necessary funding ourselves to keep us on the Tour and at the Task. It is clearly time for us to be intentional and to create from the amazing opportunities that we have been given.

Judith

Incarnation

(Originally written Sun., Nov. 16)

Merriam-Webster Dictionary
CARNAL
- Having to do with life on earth especially as opposed to that in heaven
- Pleasing to the physical senses

After yesterday’s post about my frustration with the lack of apparent progress toward achieving the intended goal of this tour, I had a rather lurid dream and awoke to reflect for much of the day on both what IS the significant difference of my current experience and also about how I would know if I were achieving the goal of this tour.

I have long had the question: “What is it like to be a “normate?”” By this I mean – to myself – what is it like to live with the experience that one’s body moves relatively freely at one’s will. I have this question after a lifetime of experience that typical people do not easily understand what it is like to be me, a woman who at 59 years of age has the muscular strength of a 7 month old human child. People think I cannot move. In actuality I can move almost every part of my body to a tiny degree but these movements are mostly imperceptible to anyone but me.

I have led a life that includes many of the same trials and successes of any middle class Canadian single woman and so I easily discount the gulf of experience between me and a similar but walking woman. However my mission is to establish a valued position in society for those of us with atypical bodies, emotions, perceptions and cognitions – those of us labeled disabled – and so I struggle to communicate to “normates” what our experiences and contributions are.

A few years ago it dawned on me that I spoke to typical people as if they were like me and that perhaps I was discounting a perceptual difference that so skewed the interpretations of what I was saying that I could not be understood if I did not fundamentally shift my message. So my question was born – “What is it like to be a “normate””?

I fully acknowledge that the question cannot lead to a valid conclusion, at least as long as I keep on trying to answer it centred in my own biases. Just the same, I feel enticed by it, perhaps out of a semi-suppressed annoyance at the hegemony of thought, organization and control of resources enjoyed by “able-bodied” people at this time. Let me objectify “them” as much as “they” objectify me!

Back to yesterday’s post – I awoke today to the thought that the last ten days of trailer travel, living and working with Gabor and Erin have given me a “carnal” experience that has previously be unattainable for me. To repeat some of yesterday’s thoughts:
- we live in a small space, in a semi-tropical marshy location, and so are continuously exposed to the physical stimulations of smell, dirt, various alarms for propane, electricity, etc., bodies in contact, flies and bugs of all sorts, warmth and cold, unusual accents, and more;
- Erin and Gabor express their relationship in a physical and teasing way, not just in the trailer but at any time in public, beyond the typical boundaries I am accustomed to;
- Gabor, as my chief and often only personal assistant, has unusual strength. This is of course a very important gift considering all he has to accomplish everyday for the next six months. For example he can sit me up from lying flat in bed by simply grasping the back of my neck and lifting. On the one hand this is giving me an unusual capacity. On the other it throws off every rhythm and routine I have established since I first started having personal assistants 40 years ago. As a result I am frequently on edge, just as I was when I was six and my four year old brother drew extreme pleasure from creeping up behind me and screaming in my ear.

I realized over the last few days that I am utterly unused to so much stimulation in and from my body. I am also unfamiliar with the distraction of so much physicality. Just getting through a day of washing, dressing, eating, warming up or cooling down, going to the bathroom, being enthralled by wondrous birds and beaches, and engaging and disengaging from the personal dynamics is as much as I can and want to do.

Steiner and Anthroposophists, the spiritual group that gave rise to Camphill, talk of the incarnation of the etheric body as a significant developmental stage that occurs when we are about 7 years old. They say that a person who has a large head relative to their body, as I do, may have an incompletely incarnated etheric body. I googled the etheric and physical bodies, to discover that some believe that while the physical body is not the source of thought, emotion and experience, being in the physical body is required to fully grow from these processes.

In this model being a person such as myself would give me a clear sense that thought, emotion and experience are not individual, but I would struggle to fully “incorporate” my understanding into my own development and into the world’s evolution. Being a “normate” would give one an edge on development and evolution but could give one the misimpression that one is alone and is the centre and driver of one’s thought, emotion and experience.

So that’s what’s going on – perhaps! I have a mission, but I need to both incarnate more myself in order to get the lessons I am looking for at this time and I am learning to have understanding and compassion for those who are so much in the “carnal” circumstance that they are in a sense fascinated by it and do not fully realize how much more they are than their own physical bodies.

As to the other question I have been reflecting on: “How will I know when the conversation about the peace engendering capacity of Inclusion is permanently rooted in our culture?” – after speaking about it today with Gabor, I realize that the first step is to ask it of other people than myself. As long as it is my question only it isn’t going to get answered!

So at least today I am more willing to believe and feel that the World Peace through Inclusion Tour is still on track. I am learning and experiencing and being prepared to do this work with more effect.

Judith

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Being on Tybee Island

First the weather – Google Weather is not a good source to get information on how to dress around here! Although Savannah and Tybee are so close and it’s easy for us to think of them as the same “location”, in fact they are very different communities, even in matters of temperature and precipitation. I am beginning to anticipate that the island general pattern is cool and clear at dawn, warm and clear mid- to late morning, warm and damp to drizzly by late afternoon, then an evening of heavy downpour. Near midnight it will be cool enough for a fall coat and misty over the river as it meets the still surging ocean. At this time of the just past full moon the bright mist on moonlit beach and dark waters is truly beautiful.

My body and my will are in conflict. Physically I am engaged, excited and enthralled. In the abrasive stimulation of living in cramped quarters with a young couple, very much in love and tease with each other, in a near tropical environment where sweat and flies are part of every day, where every daily ritual of bathing, using the toilet, cooking and eating still require careful management because everything is new and in strange places and every personal assistant and helpful friend is as yet unfamiliar with how my body works – in this abundant and often uncomfortable sensuality I am more in touch with how I physically and emotionally feel than I have been in years.

But the intention – the deep desire to start an unstoppable conversation that Inclusion can make people and the world more peaceful – at this level I feel off the rails, even thwarted. There are no traces currently of the Southern Collective for Inclusive Citizenship, a small collective that formed in March in Savannah and took on shape and action in April and June. The effort may be dead or just suppressed. It is difficult to tell as I am very welcome everywhere but few return e-mails and fewer initiate the conversation: “How has it been going since you were last here?”

In addition the economic downturn has hit this region strongly. It seems like a third of Tybee Island is up for sale and nearly every young person I meet is looking for more work or just some work.

It continues to be difficult for our team of three to get all the necessary equipment to work and to set up a good productive rhythm. I would have thought we would have at least one video up on our website or at least on YouTube, or some good pictures on Facebook, but some how either some fire wire is missing, or a program doesn’t work on the computer, or some other obstacle emerges. Certainly we will get it together soon – in the meantime my patience is thin. I want real evidence that we are actually DOING something!

Just the same, in reality things are percolating. Last night we were participating in the audience as two women and two teenagers sang songs and read poetry and stories from the Civil Rights movement. We caught some of it on video, along with an interview with the performers and the event organizer. Several leads were also created, and I have several leads to follow up – perhaps persistently – with some church connections and at least two opportunities to meet with active youth organizations.

We are broke. As yet this is not a crisis as I had anticipated digging into the liquidated equity of selling my Toronto home, so I have room to move in this area. Still it’s difficult for us - like anyone - to be unsure of the next source of income. There are no familiar contractors leaping forward to hire my time and no obvious grant sources. We must dig deeper, work harder – or certainly hold the faith that this is good work and the means to do it will emerge. This has always been so in my life. Still my certainty is wavering.

I look forward to a day soon to come I hope where I can add pictures and video to my words and I can tell stories of young southern folk taking on Inclusion as a means to liberate their productiveness, happiness and community.

Judith

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

A Great Day!

For much of the time I have been living in Avalanche we have been inundated in our own disorder. Perhaps “inundated” is an unusual way to think of chaotic living, but I have often felt emotionally buried by things like:
- nearly everything from getting up to making a coffee taking a few minutes to several hours longer than I anticipated;
- moving from 3 full-time and 4 part-time personal assistants to one personal assistant and one videographer/office assistant;
- consciously not putting things like receipts away in an orderly way because there was no fixed place to put them;
- being unable for a both technical and support reasons to answer e-mails or make phone calls in a timely reliable fashion;
- having my wardrobe and other familiar and essential items divided in two places, or in storage for an anticipated move to Barrie; and,
- having the immediate environment change in size, shape and/or location, e.g. switching from my Dodge which had a ramp and wherein I sat beside the driver to my Ford (which has enough horsepower to tow Avalanche) which has a lift and wherein I sit behind the driver.

Today we made real progress in restoring an environment wherein I can become reliable once again. Not that everything is in place, but today we set up a mini-office in Avalanche and hired a back-up assistant to relieve Gabor.

All three of us noticeably relaxed!

Our first 36 hours or so on Tybee have been magical. I can hardly wait until we can post pictures. This place is truly beautiful, and though I am heartily glad that it has not been discovered by the uppity tourist class, I can’t understand why there aren’t private clubs and hotels on every square inch of the beach. The environment is shaped by the Atlantic Ocean mingling with verdant marsh mingling with the Bull and Savannah Rivers plus other minor waterways. I expect this bioregion is unique, or at least it is like nothing I have ever encountered or imagined before I first truly met it last January.

Last night our hosts threw an oyster roast for us and two other out-of-town guests. Like Tybee itself an oyster roast combines a number of cooking styles and the mix is unexpectedly interesting. I must say though it would take many hours and many oysters to truly get a full meal so I was very happy that the pot luck included sausages, corn bread and other delicacies.

My calendar is beginning to fill up. I have meetings and performances to attend on each of the next three evenings, and I also have a new assistant to train. I begin to feel more like my “normal” busy self!

Warmly; Judith

Monday, November 10, 2008

Mountain Driving

After cleaning the trailer, disinfecting the storage tank for the first time, filling it, then packing up, we did not get away from Huntington Woods until 3:30pm. Our destination was Erin’s former boarding school, Oakhill Academy, in Virginia. She visited there last Tuesday, and voted there, and they offered us hospitality in turn for a short speech to be given in church tomorrow, Sunday. We did not expect to get there in one day’s trip, and indeed we didn’t. After struggling through rush hour, construction traffic in Detroit, we ultimately pulled up near the Ohio/West Virginia boarder outside of a museum/gift shop/tourist centre.

I spent part of the morning taping my thoughts about Micah and his impact on his community for Janice, Micah’s mother. Later, while still in the van, I did another interview for an internet radio show. The interviewer focused on topics she had picked up from my bio, and various articles she found on the internet. We had a great chat, interrupted only once when we lost cell signal in a rural area. Soon we will be able to tell you where to find both interviews.

It didn’t exactly say “no parking” so we took the liberty of hitching our power cord to the external outlet of the gift shop. So with a full storage tank we were set for water and with a “borrowed” electric power source we did not have to depend on our back-up battery to run Bradley, my nighttime ventilator. We were all set – we thought.

Three things were not exactly in our favour. Unbeknownst to Gabor he had left the black water exhaust valve open when he had emptied the body waste tank at the Flying “J”. Secondly our pad was on a distinct lateral slant. Thirdly, in an effort to level the trailer, Gabor had lowered the trailer legs as usual but one had broken at the tip where the crank is inserted and so he had not been able to get it down fully.

About 3/4 way through our already shortened morning routine a state trouper knocked on our door. He asked us to move on in a very friendly way, and then both he and Gabor discovered the gaff. About the volume of 4 trips to the john had run out onto the pavement. Its presence was made obvious by the green foam which results from the chemical that one puts down the toilet to promote breakdown of solids.

Gabor scrambled apologetically to wash away the dump, and struggled in vain for a good while to get the broken leg retracted. In the meantime the trooper called CAA to see if help could be found and looked around for a vice grip to see if we could turn the broken shaft. Ultimately Erin and Gabor figured out how to get the weight of the leg and then Gabor could be turned by hand and raised into travelling position.

While all this was going on the trooper took an interest in my chair and other things and revealed that he has a 14 year old son with Spina Bifita. We told him about our tour and our blog and he was quite interested.

The rest of the trip went smoothly albeit the driving became more and more challenging as Oakhill Academy is deep in the Blue Ridge Mountains in Virginia. We arrived in time for dinner, and are going to get to bed at a decent hour!

I have been able to share 3 times in 24 hours about inclusion and world peace. Each opportunity arose in an unexpected way. This makes me feel even more certainty that travelling slowly, near people, in a way that allows for personal conversation is indeed a powerful way to get this important message across.

Judith

Friday, November 7, 2008

Late One Night
It's after 11:00 PM – again. It always seems like I don't get around to the most important things until late. Long nights make for later starts in the morning, and the day drags on and then it's late again when I get to write the blog.

We are sitting around catching up, trying to store hours of video, kibitzing with Micah and comfortably hanging out. Tomorrow we will leave from Detroit and continue to Oak Hill Academy, Virginia where Erin went to high school. We will hook-up for a night, then continue to Tybee Beach.

Yesterday's meeting in front of Oakland's Board of Trustees was moving, disturbing and hopeful. The Trustees were as insensitive as any group of fascists could muster. People who had been given 5 minutes to speak were told they had 2. The meeting was slated for 2 hours and was abruptly adjourned after 90 minutes. The last speaker, who was given as much time as she wanted, as head of university housing clearly articulated the deeply held prejudice against Micah and all students similarly classified as "cognitively impaired". They are welcome to come and socialize, participate in activities that benefited them, even pay tuition for courses. They are NOT welcome to be students, and as such – second class participants – they are NOT welcome in the dormitories.

This statement came on the heels of dozens of heartfelt if truncated statements. The room was packed. The security guards had opened an overflow room and it was packed too. Remarkably each speaker expressed a unique perspective. It was not that several students got up to say similar things. Dozens of people spoke representing the issue from the perspective of fellow day students, more mature night students, international students who had been allowed in the dorm, student politicians, politically active people with disabilities, social workers who had followed Micah and his family for years, others who supported inclusion on other campuses, and on. Gradually it dawned on me that together the statement represented a uniquely wholistic community – a community built by Micah's many contributions to the people around him.
Afterwards 35 students, and others, gathered to debrief. The atmosphere was jovial and spirited. I was left with no doubt that the student body of Oakland U would have no other outcome then that Micah and other labeled students would be fully welcomed. Some students encouraged Micah to pack his stuff because he would soon be moving in.

I was once again privileged to witness the kind of peaceful energy that emerges in a truly inclusive situation. People were angry annd they were inspired and energized by each other and the clear discrimination they had witnessed and faced. Yet this anger and this energy were being expressed and lived in deepening relationships, humour and mutual support, and creative and thoughtful commitments to get the changes Micah needs.

Today has been a quieter, more reflective day. I am encouraged by these hopeful beginnings – Obama's victory and Micah's day of witness. We have drawn close to the Fialka-Feldman family. We have been nurtured in hospitality.

The World Peace through Inclusion is off to a blessed beginning.



Warmly;

Judith Snow

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

An Historic Moment

Gabor and I are sitting in a cozy house in Huntington Heights, Michigan, a suburb of Detroit. Actually, Gabor isn’t sitting. He is ironing a shirt for me to wear at Oakland U., Michigan. I will be one of about 20 people speaking tomorrow to the Board of Trustees on behalf of Micah Fialka-Feldman.

Micah is a student who is an avid and active Democratic student leader. His parents are both community and political activists so perhaps it’s in his blood. Tonight we attended the Democratic party to celebrate with them and Michigan as the USA both elected its first Afro-American President and put in a breakthrough number of women senators and congress(wo)men. I feel extraordinarily privileged to be witness and participant. My participation consisted of assisting Erin to return to her home state so she could vote Democratic in a swing state, Virginia. It made a difference.

At the moment I am writing this crowds are chanting “Yes we can”. The world is at an extremely low ebb, but there is nothing people cannot do. Finally, it seems that we have not just a leader but also grassroot energy arising everywhere in the world to organize ourselves as gifted people and communities in order to make great lives available to all alive now and in the future on this planet.

Micah has been refused entrance to the dormitory of Oakland U. The excuse is that he is not following a degree program. He is following an adjusted schedule so that he can accommodate his learning challenges.

Since the refusal students, politicians, and many others have written and rallied to Micah’s support. This has been Micah’s victory. He has rallied and raised the consciousness of countless young students. Regardless of how the Trustees respond Micah knows he has made a difference.

When I heard of the opportunity to speak to the Trustees tomorrow I couldn’t imagine a better beginning to the World Peace through Inclusion Tour than to come and speak on behalf and beside my brother in gifted citizenship.

Well it has already been better than I could imagine. Today we visited a burnt out area of Detroit, called the Heidelberg Project, that has been reclaimed by artists and urban farmers who are also part of a regeneration of economy and community led by ordinary people in this city. One of the original leader artists, Tyree Guyton, spoke with me and we shared our visions. In response he painted one of his famous spots, a white circle reminiscent of a moon, on my van.

This gave me an idea for an organizing principle for the Tour. At each encounter I will ask local artists to paint an image of community or peace on Bronte or Avalanche.

I must keep this short – it’s well past midnight. It has been truly an historic and marvelous day.

Love; Judith