Mining "Black Gold"

Because it’s spring and because I just gave a composting workshop on Sunday, I thought I’d write a post on composting.

There are so many benefits to composting, it should be on everyone’s To Do list. It’s enough that composting helps the earth—decreases garbage, reduces use of chemicals, conserves water—and that it brings the joy and satisfaction of being close to nature.

But what about the bottom line? Shh, let me let you in on a secret—that coveted finished compost isn’t called “black gold” for nothing! Compost is a natural, virtually free soil amendment for your garden or lawn. It enhances not only the fertility of your soil, but also its water retention and texture (makes clay soils more loose and sandy soils more substantial.)

Now here’s the clincher: Most towns pay by weight to have garbage hauled away. If more people composted kitchen scraps and yard waste, municipal budgets could save hundreds of thousands of dollars. Our cities and towns need that kind of gold rush today, wouldn’t you agree?

Half of a Yellow Sun

Stories can sometimes help us grasp a complex situation more readily than reading dry facts.

With the tragic cycle of killings and reprisals in Nigeria in the news, I was reminded of the novel Half of a Yellow Sun by Nigerian novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. (2006) The novel takes place in the 1960’s before and during the failed war of secession of the Igbo people of the eastern region of Nigeria. The story unravels through the eyes of three characters—Ugwu, a peasant houseboy working for a revolutionary Igbo professor; Olanna, the girlfriend of the professor; and Richard, an Englishman living in the country who falls in love with Olanna’s twin sister. Their lives are interrupted and their loyalties tested by the bloody three-year civil war.

The novel is not only a gripping story of love and betrayal, but it will also clue in foreigners to the complex history, ethnic make-up, and class differences of Nigeria. Through the personal stories of Adichie’s compelling characters, we see the roots and immediate causes of the violence, and how the lives of peasants, intellectuals and the elite alike were affected.

I know much has changed in the past fifty years, but still the novel provides some background to understand modern-day Nigeria. Most importantly it brings the human dimension to readers who sometimes are numbed from all the statistics of death and violence in the world today.

The Intersection of Fiction-Writing and Social Change

Good Guys beat Bad Guys—thrilling, suspenseful, satisfying, right?

I enjoy an exciting story as much as the next person. However, as I read hundreds of bedtime stories/novels to my daughters when they were younger, I wished at least some stories featured just-as-gripping nonviolent tactics to save the day. Or explored the whole concept of “the Bad Guys” in all its complexity. Laudably, books on nonviolent social change abound in the nonfiction section. But on the fiction shelves they are as rare as a four-leaf clover.

At that same time, I was a volunteer state coordinator in the campaign for a U.S. Department of Peace (see http://www.thepeacealliance.org/ ) It was very inspiring work, and I loved it. Still I couldn’t help but notice that while I felt lucky to speak to 20 or 25 people about how to move toward a culture of peace, books and movies were easily drawing in thousands of people.

A light bulb went off—Why not get creative types to write novels and screenplays highlighting not-violent, win/win victories? Let people see, through story, how nonviolence works and how valuable it can be. Interestingly, I discovered many others had that same idea. Probably with the turmoil in the world today, we’re all seeing the need to train the spotlight on alternatives to violence.

There is an intriguing intersection of fiction-writing and social change activism. Of course, the road to publication is long and difficult, but it’s a trip worth taking. And there is a whole writing community to help along the way. Now that’s what I call good luck.

Rethinking Enemy Images

A guy tries for ten minutes to merge onto a busy boulevard, cursing out the drivers that pass as ignorant and selfish. Finally someone gives him a break. Once on the road, he goes by several merges further on, also with long back-ups of cars waiting to get on. His friend suggests allowing in one of the cars. “Why should I let in any of those idiots?” he responds. “I’m in a hurry.”

It is just human nature to assess our own motives as reasonable and justified, and the motives of others as selfish, despicable, or even evil. This habit, while bad enough on the interpersonal level, can become deadly when practiced by groups or nations. Yet that mindset can be transformed by the simple act of getting to know the “enemy” or “other” and engaging in problem-solving.

I love stories that confront us with this truth. In the middle-grade novel Beyond the Dragon Portal (2005- Melissa Glenn Haber) Sadie travels to Dragonland to find her lost sister. Just when she thinks she understands this strange land and is fired up with anger against the enemy who is killing her dragon friends, she discovers that the truth about the Dragons’ war is much more complicated than she thought. I don’t want to give anything away, but this well-crafted story cleverly enables readers to get an insider’s view of the “enemy” and of war.

I am compiling a list of books that inspire readers to rethink enemy images. Let me know if you have any nominations!

Tears of the Desert

Some stories carry the power to grab attention and move people to action. Halima Bashir, in Tears of the Desert: A Memoir of Survival in Darfur, entices the reader into the heart of her village life where family is everything, where eating alone is considered worse than death. We’re with her through her “cutting time” (female circumcision)—a wrenching, inerasable scene—and as she confronts many hurdles to get an education and later become a physician.

Darfur becomes engulfed in war. One day Dr. Bashir treats forty young schoolgirls who were gang- raped by the Janjaweed. Their injuries are so severe she must stitch them without anesthesia to prevent them from bleeding to death. After recounting the horrific incident to foreigners, she herself is beaten and raped. Bashir is a tough woman, but caught up in an unspeakably brutal situation.

For years I’ve heard about the mind-boggling statistics of death and destruction in Darfur. I even got modestly involved in efforts to put international pressure to stop the violence there through SaveDarfur.org. But still, reading her story moved me like nothing before. How can I read this, I asked myself, and not try to do something, do something to help the people there?

That is the power of story.

Themes that Resonate

I love books for their characters and story. But they truly carve a place in my heart when their themes resonate with me and make me think. That is what gives a novel depth. I am a lover of themes!

In particular I’m keen on themes that make me reflect not only on the world as it is, but on the way it could be. For example, The People of Sparks (2004- Jeanne DuPrau, Book 2 of the Ember series) is an endearing children’s novel of a girl and boy caught up in a deteriorating conflict between their people and the people of the city to which they have fled. The characters are memorable and the story is engaging. But its depth is achieved through exploring the themes of understanding, mistrust and hatred. The main characters Lina and Doon act in a dangerous situation with the simple but profound solution of helping rather than hating. Their actions completely transform the situation in Sparks.

Children reading the book witness a wonderful model for dealing with inflamed group emotions. “Helping rather than hating” is a theme that resonates deep in the heart.

To Choose or Not to Choose?

For a long time I felt I had to choose—because of time constraints—between all my passions in life. Wasn’t I really diluting my time and energy by working for both peaceful and environmentally sustainable communities? But I could never choose one over the other. Both issues have existed in some form or another over my entire life, even as the specific groups I worked with have changed.

I also have two careers, writing (now) and teaching (before). I wished there was some way I could do it all. Or better yet, combine them all.

Now that is my current plan—to merge them all! I want to let the vision of peaceful and sustainable communities both ground and inspire my writing and teaching. I want my recognition of the power of story to enrich my volunteer work in the fields of peace-building and environmental activism.

Will it work? That is the question.