"The Rape Of The World"-Tracy Chapman

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RMtvrG8_N_E

Mother of us all
Place of our birth
How can we stand aside
And watch the rape of the world

This the beginning of the end
This the most heinous of crimes
This the deadliest of sins
The greatest violation of all time

Mother of us all
Place of our birth
We all are witness
To the rape of the world

You've seen her stripped mined
You've heard of bombs exploded underground
You know the sun shines
Hotter than ever before

Mother of us all
Place of our birth
We all are witness
To the rape of the world

Some claim to have crowned her
A queen
With cities of concrete and steel
But there is no glory no honor
In what results
From the rape of the world

Mother of us all
Place of our birth
We all are witness
To the rape of the world

She has been clear-cut
She has been dumped on
She has been poisoned and beaten up
And we have been witness
To the rape of the world

Mother of us all
Place of our birth
How can we stand aside
And watch the rape of the world

If you look you'll see it with your own eyes
If you listen you will hear her cries
If you care you will stand and testify
And stop the rape of the world

Stop the rape of the world
Mother of us all
Mother of us all
Mother of us all
Mother of us all...

"Oh My God"-Michael Franti

Slam bam I come unseen
but like gasoline you could tell I’m in the tank
like money in the bank
I smell appealing, but I’m toxic, can send you reeling
without an inklin’, keep ya thinkin’
‘cause you gave cash to the feds, left your school district for dead
fucked you up in the head, but still they sayin’ nothin’s wrong
selling firewater behind hot, loading the bomb
still believing the systems workin’
while half of my people are still out of workin’
anonymous notes left in the pockets and coats
of judges and juries from ‘Frisco and Jersey
threats and protests politicians mob debts
trumped up charges and phony arrests
stage a lethal injection, the night before the election
‘cause he got donations from the prison guard’s union
Oh my, oh my God
out here mama they got us livin’ suicide singin’
oh my, oh my God
out here mama they got us livin’ genocide singin’
Oh my, oh my God
out here mama they got us livin’ suicide singin’
Oh my, oh my God, oh my God

Listenin' to my stethoscope on a rope
internal lullabies, human cries
thumps and silence, the language of violence
algorithmic, cataclysmic, seismic, biorhythmic
you can make a life longer, but you can’t save it
you can make a clone and then you try to enslave it?
stealin’ DNA samples from the unborn
and then you comin’ after us
‘cause we sampled a James Brown horn?
scientists who’s God is progress
a four-headed sheep is their latest project
the CIA runin’ like they're Jones from Indiana
but they still won’t talk about that Jones in Guyana
this ain’t no cartoon, no one slips on bananas
do you really think that that car killed Diana
hell I shot Ronald Regan, I shot JFK
I slept with Marilyn she sung me “Happy Birthday”

Well politicians got lipstick on the collar
the whole media started to holler
but I don’t give a damn who they screwin’ in private
I wanna know who they screwin’ in public
robbin’, cheatin’, stealin’
white collar criminal
McDonald eatin, you deserve a beatin’
send you home a weepin’, with a fair bill for your Caribbean weekend
for just about anything they can bust us
false advertising sayin’ “Halls of Justice”
you tellin’ the youth don’t be so violent
then you drop bombs on every single continent
mandatory minimum sentencin’
‘cause he got caught with a pocket full of medicine
do that again another ten up in the beneficial
oh man I wanna peaceful revolution

singin’
Oh my, oh my God
an' maybe he say oh my, oh my god
here mama they got us livin’ suicide singin’
oh my, oh my God
here mama they got us livin’ genocide singin’
Oh my, oh my God, oh my God

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i9K9GVD9qVs

Mokauea Island Field Trip

Saturday October 9th:

"The wheels on the bus go round and round..."
As we boarded the yellow school bus I was brought back to the days where you have to share seats with classmates. Slippery seats, hot cheeks and sweaty feet-this was a great start to my first field trip of the semester. Crossing over to Sand Island was like traveling back in time. We passed rural and industrial scenery as we reached our destination at the last fishing village in Hawaii, Mokauea island.

Paddling to the island was even more of a realization of the difference between life on this island and the life I lead on "the other side." As we were paddling to this new land, I couldn't help but be humbled by the experience. Synchronicity, a key role in paddling, was demonstrated almost effortlessly. We all had a direct purpose to provide whatever service we could and were willing to work together to get there in the first place. As we pull up to the shores I see overgrown plants, shards of glass and garbage bags galore. It feels like a no mans land. Listening to the history makes me sick to my stomach. This seems to be the running theme when I hear the ugly truth of power. These families were stripped of everything all in the name of development and profit. I was impressed at the involvement with Kai Makana, and saw the passion in the people's eyes. I couldn't wait to help in any way I could.

Instructions proceeded and the volunteers followed the guidelines to work. Gloves on, sunhat situated and water by my side, I am ready to get down and dirty. Groups of friends are carelessly chit chatting away and picking 'pickle weed' almost robotically. Slow and steady, taking breaks to fix hair and take off shirts. I observe for a bit and actually get upset. I see the reason for these massive groups of people to be here is to make change. How much change can happen if we aren't attached to the end result? If my duty was to pick that pickle weed, I was going to pull and fight as hard as I could to clear the land back to it's original state. I was over just picking the 'weed' because we weren't getting to the 'root.' So I went to the shed and grabbed a bunch of hoes and distributed them in hopes that people would take the tool and use it wisely. Then I went to the far end of the landscape all alone and began hacking away. Digging my feet in the dirt, both hands on the root and yanking with all my strength. This was how my field trip went. Exhausted, perspiring and perplexed at other work ethic...our time is up. 2 hours?

I am the last to leave. I don't want to. I see how much help this island needs, for the families and for the Hawaiian people. I am willing to stay until dark, but this was just an appetizer to activism. I must go back across the waters to the land I live. I couldn't help but draw comparisons to how our society works. The masses of people just do what they're told (pick weeds) to fix a problem. But what we neglect is the real root of the issue. In this case, the literal root of this invasive plant. We pick and pick and pick, and wonder why the problem keeps coming back. When we think we're actually contributing to a cause we aren't. How many people are willing to work to rid the root of deeper issues of politics and power? It's discouraging that inspiration to help can come and go so easily. I suppose the trappings of life trump the importance of these teachings. 

Back on the canoe, paddling away from poverty. The sweat stings my face as the wind brushes through my hair. On the water between both islands I dwell on which land is my home. I look forward and see city, lights and corruption. I look back and see simplicity, family and truth. I am divided on which of these components make up me. I conclude that each island holds some intention and it's how I balance each end of the spectrum that determines my existence.

Back on the bus, chugging away back to the life we all lead.

Malcolm Gladwell's 'Small Change' article was well supported with equal examples of the difference between activism with and without technology. The civil rights movement was a ground-breaking shift in human rights. It was a clear distinction between who was the oppressor and the oppressed. We knew who "belonged" and who didn't. And when you've been clawing your way to freedom in the dark trenches of society for so long, and you can see the blisters of banishment on your brothers, there comes a time to take a stand. True activism challenged the status quo at the risk of physical violence and ostracization. The thousands of individuals who participated in the boycotts, sit-ins and rallies are the ones who took that risk of being a target. A lot has changed in the last sixty years in regards to activism.

With the integration of information and access to any given person, we have opened the floodgates to networking. In the article it suggests that sites like Twitter and Facebook are responsible for numerous events that have started change. But the biggest difference I see with the cross-comparison is the issue of accountability. When you are behind a computer screen or some fancy phone, you are completely anonymous. Yes, you can still support a cause and express your views, but how much change are you ensuing? People nowadays are so eager to jump on the next bandwagon. If we're supporting starving children in Africa, these followers will quickly jump on board, send copious amounts of money to the cause and then feel philanthropic for being a part of something at large. Yet that doesn't build a connection to anything; you must have a personal connection to the movement you support. It's the difference between motivation and participation. These waves of trends motivate people to take part, but the part they play is insignificant and therefore doesn't have a lasting impact. There are no real sacrifices in social media weak ties.

When we challenge any socially entrenched norm we are risking our status, resources and safety. And in a day in age where those values are so highly prized, it is unlikely we will confront that dissonance. And by vocalizing our views on an anonymous venue we aren't really taking that moral, literal stance for what we believe in. There are so many issues at hand in our world today, and I do think that people genuinely want to help, but instead of sending pennies to Africa and Asia, why don't we start a little closer to home? What ever happened to going out into your community and getting your hands a little dirty? That 's where those personal connections begin. Working with other people, side by side for a higher purpose. If every community valued this kind of work ethic and accountability, we'd feel our purpose and strive to work together to make it a better place.

Save Your Soul

The documentary '180 Degrees South' was an inspirational journey to follow. As we see this one man following the footsteps of his heroes on his travels to Argentina, it's hard not to question our own journey. Sitting in the front row, captivated by the awe-striking images of nature I kept thinking 'What am I doing sitting in a classroom?" "I should be right there, in nature, escaping from it all." But this is where the illusion begins. To some extent, we all want to flee from the dull reality we all exist in. We all feel there is more out there and we must avidly search for it. Isn't that the pursuit of happiness? And because we are all searching, we never really feel in the present moment. I think we are so disconnected from ourselves, our families, nature, and are so afraid that if we stop to realize where we are, who we are, we will see that we have nothing.

Where are our ties nowadays? We have no relationship to anything other than to ourselves; and we all know what a selfish, egocentric relationship that is. It was said in the movie that "Fear of the unknown is the greatest fear of all." What is unknown is why we are all here. What is our purpose? And who wants a purpose; doesn't that require accountability and responsibility...when have we ever wanted that? It was gut-wrenching to hear the discussion in class after the video. I remember input about just 'doing what you can,' 'stopping to smell the roses,' and 'smile at someone.' And as much as I can agree with all these, it's a challenge to whole-heartily support it. Our world is in so much pain, that unfortunately one smile will not change anything. The self-enlightening traveler to Argentina was just that, only the "self." How can we incorporate the 6 billion other people on this journey? We  need to end the suffering in the world first in order to achieve this enlightenment.

We all can't go on some spiritual journey across the world and document it for the masses. That's just a story to be told. But who's to hear our story right here, right now? The story of our earth dying. The story of our broken families. The story of our self-hatred. It's the etic perception; looking in on the situation from the outside. Detaching ourselves in order to see where we are and where we should be. These are all trappings we have been conditioned with, and I truly believe there is a possibility of reversing it and not feeling like we're living in bondage. I feel this oh too often. It's hard not to feel like a victim in this world of victimization. But there is beauty in the breakdown. So maybe we are all finally breaking down to eventually rebuild our minds. For the mind is the most powerful thing we as human beings have. I believe we are all one mind. And along the way we have just separated from that union, that brotherhood. This is where we must return. I wish I had the answer to the world's problems. All I know is that knowledge is freedom, and we are all seeking exile. The higher our awareness, the more we are able to see our impact and respond accordingly.

I am committed to releasing the shackles that are ignorance. This is where the journey begins, and ends in liberation.