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Nas2EndWork "Pamela's Blogs":

Blog 1: "You Know How I Know You're a Slave?"

 

Blog 2: "Where the Hell is Vasquez When We Really Need Her?"

 

 

Blog 3: "How Do I Con Thee? Let Me Count the Ways...Or: What Is 'Individual Freedom'?"

 

Blog 4: "Is It Never Too Late to Be the Parent I Should Have Been?"

 

 

Blog 5: "Are We Innocent When We Dream?"

 

Blog 6: "To Enlarge the Realm of the Possible"

 

 

Blog 7: "Bury the Corpse!"

 

Blog 8: "Just Say NO! Make Coke the First Corpse to Go!"

 

Blog 9: "Compassion Always Comes Too Late"

Blog 10: "To Live and Die a Slave?"

 

Blog 11: "Crime Is The Flip Side"

 

 

Blog 12: "Rocket Science Ain't Rocket Science"

 

Blog 13: "The Fuck-It Factor"

 

 

Blog 14: "How Do You Organize (Our World) Without Hierarchy?"

 

Blog 15: "Eating What The Earth Gives Me"

 

 

Blog 16: "When You Become A Voice Of The Voiceless"

 

Blog 17: "You Got To Sucker The Corn Or the Ears Won't Be Worth Nothin'"

 

 

Blog 18: "Packaging Our Children For The Podrunks"

 

Blog 19: "The Good Livers"

 

 

Blog 20: "Is There Such A Thing As "Voicelessness"?"

 

Blog 21: "Brandon Terrell Jones"

 

 

Blog 22: "Our Real Work"

 

 

Blog 23: "Gennenice Chapman Johnson"

 

Blog 24: "What Is Your 'Theory of Change'?"

 

 

Blog 25: "The Plum Tree"

 

Blog 26: "Wholism Is A Health Issue"

 

 

Blog 27: "Who's Loving You Michael?"

 

Blog 28: "Getting Busy"

 

Blog 29: "Depopulation"

 

Blog 30: "Growing A Mass Movement"

 

Blog 31: "Ridley's Choice"

 

Blog 32: "Children Of The Technology"

 

Blog 33: "The Devastated Earthscapes From Lawrence Summers' "Logic""

 

Blog 34: "How Do We Grow A Mass Movement?"

 

Blog 35: "We Have To Make A Loud Noise"

 

Blog 36: "The Phoenix"

 

Blog 37: "Wind-Blown Seeds Need Roots"

 

Blog 38: "Embracing The Plural"

 

Blog 39: "Round And Round And Round We Go But Not Merrily"

 

Blog 40: "Unplugging"

 

Blog 41: "Thank You Sandy From Petaluma"

 

Blog 42: "You Got City Hands Mr. Hooper"

 

Blog 43: "Letter to Michael Reynolds"

 

Blog 44: "The Last Civil Rights Movement"

 

Blog 45: "The 4 R's: The Ruses Used To Rend Us...Race, Religion, Reason, and Recognition - 1"

 

Blog 46: "The 4 Ruses - 2"

 

Blog 47: "The 4 Ruses - 3"

 

Blog 48: "The Responsibility Of The Intellectual"

 

Blog 49: "The Hidden Malevolence: AKA Michael Moore's Dilemma"

 

Blog 50: "Wading Into The Muck Of State"

 

Blog 51: "Seeing The Communal Alternative"

 

Blog 52: "Becoming The Function"

Pamela's Blog 33

Published on Thursday, July 9, 2009 by Nas2EndWork.org

“The Devastated Earthscapes From Lawrence Summers' "Logic"”

by Pamela Satterwhite

 

When Lawrence Summers was a World Bank economist he wrote in an internal memo that “the economic logic behind dumping a load of toxic waste in the lowest wage country is impeccable and we should face up to that…I’ve always thought that underpopulated countries in Africa are vastly underpolluted.”

 

Well, what I think we need to face up to is that this mentality – this notion that nature, including you and me, exists at the pleasure of the world’s irreverents – has insinuated itself into the raw material – us – as well. How could it not, when those with the big, wide, open mouths have swallowed our forests, our farmlands, our commons – when our children are taught to take tests and follow orders… when they’re taught to take from the earth without reverence, rather than develop a relationship and systematically cultivate, in conversation with the earth – including the earth that is their brothers and sisters.

 

When my son and I moved to our small house in South Berkeley seventeen years ago, I didn’t know it but I was embarking on a long dialogue with the children of our neighborhood about the earth. I was a very unconscious participant in this dialogue and a distinctly grumpy one. Over the course of the conversation I’ve watched children pull up an entire strawberry plant to get a single strawberry; parents pull down a whole plum branch to get a plum; teenage “radicals” strip the peach tree overnight because they were living ‘light’ *; adults trample basil and thyme underfoot because they didn’t know they were there; teenage boys throw unripe fruit at each other like snowballs. Along the way I called myself trying to educate, but it always came across like selfishness. “Why is she tripping over a few plums?” I heard one mother say when I came out to ask them to please ask. Why indeed? I could never adequately explain my connection to the plants. I’d try, of course. “All of these trees grew from compost,” I said, “from seeds.” It was like they were my babies. “I‘ve watched that plum tree grow from just a tiny sprout.”

 

At some point, a year or two ago, it occurred to me that I really hadn’t been listening too well to the earth myself. For years I fumed at the children’s impatience, at their picking the plums before they were ripe. “How wasteful!” I’d think, “there won’t be any left to get sweet!” 

 

But there always (well, mostly) were.

 

And even when there wasn’t (as happened last year when someone stripped the peach tree overnight, later returning all the pits…[wow…thanks…]), wasn’t I missing the trees for the fruit? Gradually, over time, more and more children have begun coveting the fruit as food rather than projectiles. Gradually, over time, perhaps the seed of a relationship is germinating?

 

A year ago a young man in our neighborhood was killed. I think about Brandon Terrell Jones often. He was about my son’s age, could easily have been one of the children climbing the plum tree. That we accept the deaths of children and youth, and the trashing of the planet, as a matter of course is...

 

Here in low-wage South Berkeley the message our children receive is that they don’t matter, that our bodies, our minds, our earth, are dumping grounds for a dying system’s toxic waste. Everything is upside down in this strange world, as Eduardo Galeano has pointed out. Junk has ‘value,’ and our precious fruit is ‘waste.’

 

Perhaps it’s time to awake from our long sleep and begin voting with our feet...and hands...and reverence, creating now – not in some distant future – the world we want. It was with this thought and Brandon Terrell Jones in mind that I began planting seeds, feet from where he fell. Will it make any difference? Time will tell.

 

 

 

 

 

* I never heard the end of it from Mrs. Trotter, who’d acquired a bunch of jars to hold all the peach preserves she’d been planning to make.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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