Posted in N&V

Big, Borrowed, or Both — May

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Sometimes we come across interesting things that have been produced elsewhere or don’t quite fit in our format.  Why should that stop us?

 

Susan Ball keeps us up to date on RVM-relevant happenings appearing in the external press.  She recently circulated an interesting piece on the position of CCRCs in the rapidly changing retirement industry:  Entry-Fee CCRC Model Seen as Less “Endangered” than Before Pandemic  

 

3550: The online quarterly magazine of the Portland Mirabella (also a PRS CCRC facility), it is an open internet publication.

 

The Mirabella Monthly newsletter of the Seattle Mirabella is available in PDF format by (free) subscription: email jaredcurtis@icloud.com   To download the May issue, Click here

I am Not a Racist, They are!

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by Asifa Kanji

Asifa Kanji

This is an excerpt from Asifa Kanji’s new book, Behind Many Masks, which will be published later this year.

I read the opinion piece by Christian Cooper, Why I have chosen not to aid the investigation of Amy Cooper. It changed my life.

Christian Cooper, an African American, is the Harvard-graduate-birdwatcher who was accused of assault in Central Park, when all he was trying to do was asking the dog walker to leash her dog in the bird sanctuary. He is emphatic that he does not want to participate in Amy Cooper’s (no relation) trial for filing a false police report. Mr. Cooper says that “focusing on charging her, lets white people off the hook from more pressing questions about the more toxic racial bias that she tapped into. . .They can scream for her head while leaving their own prejudices unexamined. They can push for her prosecution and pat themselves on the back for having done something about racism, when they have actually done nothing, and their own Amy Cooper remains only one purse-clutch away in the presence of a black man.”

My conscience prickled as I read Christian Cooper’s letter.

I remember so well when I told my mother that when I grow up I wanted to be white. I was seven. My face burned for hours from the smart smack I received for thinking such a vile thought. As an Indian child growing up in the British Territory of Tanganika, seeing whites act and be treated like royalty, I envied their privilege.

At my elite British boarding school, I tried hard to emulate the whites, their manners, their accents, their dress. I badly wanted to be one of them. I married a white man and moved to America, specifically to Berkeley. I was thrilled, and thrived in America’s egalitarian culture. The color of my skin was irrelevant until the day when. . .

. . . someone slammed their shopping cart into me at Costco. I turned around to see a white middle-aged, bearded man looking me in the eye. “Go home,” he said, and then scurried away.

. . . the immigration officer at O’Hare put me into a tiny windowless room, having taken my passport and luggage, just because I was born in Dar-es-salaam, profiling me, as goodness knows what – a terrorist? An undesirable immigrant who had acquired her green card through illicit means? Who knows?

. . . when I am followed at a department store, like a shoplifter might be.

In those instants, I catch a glimpse of how the world sees me – a skinny brown immigrant woman who cannot be trusted and doesn’t belong.

Once, my father-in-law ranted and railed against the coloreds to me. When I reminded him “I am not exactly white,” he put on his boyish smile and with a tinge of flirty naughtiness, he said, “but you are one of us!” Was that the ultimate compliment, that I was accepted as a white person? If so, why was I so aggrieved, like I had joined the wrong club?

My own father-in-law never took the time to find out who I was and where I came from. I didn’t say anything, because after all he was my father-in-law and quite honestly, I liked him. He was a witty man. But that night, the racial scar on my soul deepened, even though I am guilty of laughing at racist jokes, guilty of feeding into ethnic stereotypes. Christian Cooper is right. I can push Amy Cooper’s prosecution and pat myself on the back for having done something about racism, but even as a brown woman, I still clutch my purse at the sight of a black teenager walking towards me. I have not examined my own prejudices and the sham I have been living all these years.

The more the ugly faces of white privilege bubble up and go viral on Social Media, the more I am emboldened to reclaim my identity, strength and wisdom as a woman of color and as an immigrant. This time of COVID quarantine has been a time of deep self-reflection. I am beginning to be proud of the stories of my ancestors and my unique heritage. I am learning to tell my stories, not because I want sympathy, but just to raise awareness of the daily indignities people of color have to endure.

I tell a friend about the COSTCO episode. Right away I’m sorry I opened my mouth. She’s all over me with hugs and apologies that I really don’t need or want. “I am strong and used to weathering these insults. I want us to have the hard conversation about examining our prejudices,” I try to explain.

“I must be color blind,” she tells me. “I don’t see the color of your skin.”

Does that mean she does not clutch her purse when a black man approaches? Is she even aware of the privileges she has because she is white — all the things she can take for granted? I am not sure. She changes the conversation really fast. I feel as bad as I did as when the white man came up against me, fists clenched, ordering me to “Go Home!”

The core of me understands why Mr. Cooper doesn’t want to participate in Amy’s trial. In itself the trial doesn’t change the toxic racial bias within us; neither does it fix policing and the criminal justice system.

As an American citizen, I owe it to the country that has given me so much and to those who will come after me to do something, but what? What could I have said or done to the white man who ordered me to go home, or my color-blind friend? Am I willing to risk sticking my neck out? I do need help from my friends. Together we can search for ways that allow us to examine our prejudices.

Thank you Christian Cooper for articulating what I have felt and making me “see” systemic racism and hidden prejudices that I had long accepted as the natural order from my upbringing under British colonialism. I’ve spent too much of my life being like them. You have given me courage to be like me — and like you.

 

Editor’s notes: For a transcript of the recent listserv discussion on racism, see https://thecomplement.info/2021/04/03/racism-outrage-and-solidarity/

If you would like to contribute to the discussion, please consider adding your comments below.

One Life’s End

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The Well-Planned Departure

of Daphne Fautin

by Robert Buddemeier

 

Foreword   This story is about how my wife (Daphne Fautin) thwarted the unlovely aspects of a terminal diagnosis by pre-empting with medical aid in dying, and about how she implemented the process.  It’s written in a continuous care retirement facility – Rogue Valley Manor — in which death is ever-present, but rarely addressed other than briefly and euphemistically.  That is understandable, but not necessarily conducive to either pre-mortem preparation or post-mortem closure.

This account is intended to be about Daphne, but there is no way to avoid presenting the process as I saw it, experienced it, and participated in it. I write it partly as catharsis, partly as reflection, and partly as advice/information/instruction for those interested in a possible approach to something that all of us will do.

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Death – Part 1.  Background, attitudes, and approach – When we moved from Kansas to Oregon in 2015, both of us had been strongly conditioned by our observed death experiences.  Daphne’s father committed suicide; his wife had died, he was on dialysis, and was losing his sight.  Her aunt died in a Medicare-accepting nursing home, deaf, blind, and largely immobile. In my case, 3 of my grandparents had died either in pain or after prolonged disability.  Together, Daphne and I experienced my sister’s 2-year process of death from leukemia, which included a failed bone marrow transplant.

An even larger part of our mutual death experience inventory was my mother’s protracted decline and ultimate death from Alzheimer’s Disease. Mom had always insisted that she would not go that way, but would kill herself first – she was a member of the Hemlock Society (and took Daphne to a meeting with her).  She was also positive and independent, and she kept going until the AD outflanked her and took away her executive function before she realized that she needed to act.  In one of those occasional lucid moments that AD patients have, she asked me to kill her. I didn’t.

We also had major health problems of our own before we moved – Daphne had heart and spine issues, and I had a neurological condition that produced symptoms similar to Alzheimer’s.  Before my problem was diagnosed and arrested, I was practicing the procedures of suicide 2 or 3 times a week in hopes of avoiding being ambushed as my mother was.

Given our lack of enchantment with the natural death processes, it’s not surprising that one of the factors in our decision to move to Oregon was the Death with Dignity law (although we thought that I would be the first to use it).  As soon as we arrived I went to the RVM library and asked for information on DWD.  There was none available, so Daphne volunteered to assemble and keep updated a binder of information on the law and the process.  She then followed up by updating and expanding more general information on death, dying, and end of life choices.

The RVM Library compilation on DEATH and preparing for it is contained in a white 3-ring binder on the bottom shelf at the west end of the bookshelves between the reading room and the main library.

In early 2019 Daphne’s primary provider spotted white blood cell anomalies in two successive lab tests.  Hematology said leukemia.  Bone marrow biopsy said a rare, aggressive kind, curable only by bone marrow transplant, if at all.  Daphne said “no, thank you.”  She got two second opinions (no difference) and looked for experimental studies that might enroll her (no luck).  Although she had a 3-5 year prognosis at that point, she sought out a DWD attending (prescribing) physician, and made sure that her oncologist would serve as the consulting physician.

Daphne’s condition remained stable for much of the next two years, during which she continued to read about death and dying, and to prepare for her own.  Part of that preparation was familiarization with End of Life Choices Oregon, represented at RVM by Jan Rowe.

End of Life Choices Oregon (EOLCOR — https://eolcoregon.org/) is a volunteer organization that provides information, advice and support to Oregonians facing end-of-life decisions, including assistance in navigating the DWD process.  Jan Rowe (541-857-6131; jurowe96@gmail.com) is the EOLCOR representative on the RVM campus.  It’s an outstanding organization; use it and support it.

 

In the Fall of 2020 Daphne’s blood cell counts started rising, and she began taking a drug that suppressed cell formation.  In spite of blood abnormality, she remained active, and experienced no pain or disability.  However, by the end of the year, cell counts had started rising again, and it appeared that the first drug was losing effectiveness.

The oncologist recommended going to the next phase of drug therapy, which until recently had only been available by infusion.  Daphne asked how long she would have if she didn’t go on the new therapy.  Six months, the oncologist said.  He also said that she would be very likely to “stroke out” – to die from a stroke, or a series of them.  After reflection, she declined the treatment, asked the oncologist for certification of the 6 month prognosis and re-contacted the prescribing physician. By this time she was experiencing occasional fatigue, but still no pain or significant disability

She also applied for hospice admission – a recommendation made by EOLCOR – and was accepted into the Asante program.  Hospice provides medical and personal support to the patient and family with a team of nurses and social workers – and also handles death certification, so you don’t have to have an ambulance and a fire engine visit the house.  In addition to regular visits and contacts, Daphne was provided with both pain-relief and anti-anxiety medications, and the social worker spent time with both of us going over the post-mortem actions that would be required.

Within two weeks of Daphne’s decision, a bottle of the lethal prescription arrived from a compounding pharmacy in the Portland area. According to the statistics, a substantial number of people who get the prescription die without taking it – apparently, the knowledge that they possess the means of choice and control provides what they need to go through the unaided dying process.  Daphne kept it with her when we made a trip to Corvallis for a “beforehand” visit with her brother and sister.

Let’s jump back up a couple of paragraphs to engage with the social and community aspects of dying.  From the time of her initial diagnosis, Daphne made no secret of her condition. Both of us tended to be fairly open about such things, so most people who knew us well (and some who didn’t) were aware both that she had a terminal disease and that she planned to use DWD.

As she entered the final phase, she worked to set a date, as well as to continue and complete her preparations.  She wanted to be sure to exit early enough to minimize the risk of a stroke that might compromise her ability to act independently, and I think it was also important to her that she leave as she wanted to be remembered.  March 12 turned out to be a time when both her brother and her sister could join us, so that became Death-Day, the target of Daphne’s information campaign.  Her volunteer activities, book groups, anyone that might expect or depend on Daphne, were notified of D-Day (When invited to an event on March 14, she replied “I can’t; I’ll be dead then.”).

Reactions?  A few people (with successful treatment experiences) urged her to reconsider.  A few more suggested that she wait until she wasn’t doing as well – but I think the image of that stroke loomed large in her mind.  In any event, most people, including those who initially urged some other action, treated her decision with regretful acceptance.  As the word spread, community support grew, and with it, the gratitude that we felt for such positive responses.  Notes, flowers, letters, food – all so much more meaningful while the recipient is able to appreciate them.

 

Death – Part 2.     The end game — 2 weeks before D-day.  The support team is in place; hospice people, Jan and a second person from EOLCOR, friends in general and specific subsets. Fr Joel is checking in, Rabbi David is organizing a virtual vigil at Havurah Shir Hadash to coincide with Daphne’s departure.

I tend to think of the physical and mental approach to death as a process of deceleration. My grandmother went oh so very slowly from ambulatory to rocking chair to wheelchair to hospital bed to cemetery plot. Daphne never slowed – she walked and recorded distance in her walking log.  She read and recorded books in her reading log.  She worked hard at resolving issues, making arrangements and notifying people.  She attended meetings and participated up to the end.  And she took her prescription meds and supplements up to her next-to-the-last day.

As the time approached, Daphne acknowledged feeling some anxiety, and took the medication provided by hospice.  It worked, and took the edge off of her tension.  In the last 2-3 days she went on a regular regimen of the Lorazapam and remained generally calm and composed.

    left to right, Daphne, Charlie, Donna

On Wednesday (March 10), Daphne had her hair cut (and got another stamp on her frequent-haircut bonus card).  Brother Charlie, sister Donna and sister-in-law Susan arrived.  Charlie is an RN, MPH health professional, and provided welcome expertise to the rest of us throughout the buildup as well as the event. After a brief period of awkwardness, we settled into a routine of take-out food and pleasurable reminiscing, through the rest of Wednesday and Thursday

Friday, March 12.  Daphne gets up early, takes her anti-anxiety pill (and I think for the first time does not take her vitamins), does the usual catwork, and settles down to do the newspaper puzzles.  We shower, dress, get set up – towels on the couch; she is worried about losing control even though the experts say it’s unlikely.  I make her a cup of tea and she goes back to the puzzles until family arrives.  Then she takes the advance meds – anti-nausea and sedative.  Jan’s co-worker arrives, and I ask her whether it’s better to mix the lethal powder and the apple juice by shaking or whisking.  Whisk, she says.  I mix the potion while Charlie prepares to give Daphne mango sorbet to quench the bitter taste of the prescription.

The Rabbi arrives, as does Jan.  Reb David knows that none of us are conventionally religious.  He reads some poems; we do the last in unison.  Then he asks us all to say something to Daphne – of gratitude, love, blessing.  It is so very hard.  Then he asks her to say the Sh’ma —  the appropriate (Hebrew) last words for a Jew. She does so calmly, and picks up the cup. Jan asks “Daphne, do you know what will happen if you drink that?”  “Yes,” she answers “I’ll die.”  And she drinks it.

Susan gives her two spoonfuls of sorbet to take away the bitter taste of the medicine.  She leans against me and I start massaging her scalp – something she always liked. She asks for another spoonful of sorbet, and then drifts off at about 10:15. I take her glasses off and hand them to the Rabbi.  We wait, talk a little, and the Rabbi plays on his phone some of the vigil that is being held at the synagogue.  It’s on Zoom, so people are participating from all over – my daughter in Australia got up at 4 a.m. to be there.  I have yet to watch the video, but people tell me it was beautiful.  After a little longer we recline her on the couch, well-padded with pillows.

Her breathing is audible, but she remains completely motionless.  Time goes on.  It’s clear that Daphne is not going to give up quickly, no matter what her intentions were.  We excuse the Rabbi and the EOLCOR team – there are enough of us to keep each other company, and Charlie has any medical knowledge that might be needed.  I take off Daphne’s earrings – little anemones, hand crafted by a fellow marine biologist to look like the one we discovered in Papua New Guinea that she named Anthopleura buddemeieri when she published the description.  Without any conscious organization, we take turns sitting close to Daphne, at her side or by her head.

The hospice nurse calls just before shift change time, and suggests that since Daphne is taking longer to die than is typical, we might want to put another towel under her.  We do that, and the movement seems to trigger some sort of internal reset.  Her breathing shifts from slow and shallow to rapid and shallow – and at 5:15 it stops.  Charlie checks for the pulse that we know is not there.

We cry, text the Rabbi, and call Jan and the hospice (which notifies the mortuary), and then wait, with the now-silent body on the couch.  I take off her wedding ring – it’s tight over the knuckle, and Susan applies some liquid soap.

Post-mortem, pre-mortuary.  “Do you want to spend some time alone with her?”  No.  The meaningful time has all been spent.  That poor dead thing is not Daphne – life was her definition, and vice versa.  I had been afraid that the departure of the body would be wrenching.  It isn’t. It is a relief to see her remains start the journey through fire and back into water – however after-the-fact, a re-experiencing of energy and motion, ultimately leading to a place where life abounds.

Loss, seasoned with relief. Everybody drained.  Light the candle, lift the wine glasses, have a snack, collapse.

Next day, we start through her list of who should have what.  Daphne was the family packrat, well-organized and dedicated.  In addition to all of the artifacts out in the open, there are about 8 trunks of written material, photos, records, and memorabilia dating back to the 1950s.  Much of it had come from overseas to begin with, and had been maintained through many moves.  There were many exclamations of recognition and discovery as things that I had always thought of as “Daphne stuff” turned into heirlooms or treasured mementos before my eyes.

On Sunday, two cars-full depart; Charlie will come back with a rented van later to pick up the trunks and a few pieces of furniture.  And there will be plenty left to remind me of Daphne.

 

Note: A website has been set up for people who would like to know more about Daphne, since there is nobody familiar with all of her diverse experiences and accomplishments:  https://thecomplement.info/daphne

To download a pdf of this article, Click Here

 

Moving the Gardens:

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Judy and Damon Simpson

Saw it All

by Joni Johnson

Damon and Judy Simpson

Damon and Judy Simpson moved into their cottage right above the old garden which is now the Memory Center. A year later, they took on the job of Garden Coordinators thinking they could look down on the venue from their living room and patio.  Wrong.  A year later, Greg Tuman and his crew began the slow and arduous task of moving the entire garden from its flat 50 or so beds to the three-tiered 107 bed location it occupies today just below RV parking. In fact, the three-tier design was Greg’s idea. First they had to move the two tool sheds and the gazebo.  The tool sheds were moved to the bottom and middle level and then a new larger one was built at the top level which includes a bathroom (something which I am sure makes everyone very happy).

Because the move originally meant more available gardens than gardeners, the decision about who would get what garden was based on a first-come first-serve basis with a few basic rules needing to be observed.  For example, Raspberries and other berries with the exception of Blueberries are quite invasive so they were not allowed in the upper level. Trees were also moved to the lower level as were grapes.   Other than that, people got to choose their spot.

As the pandemic hit, gardening became a much more popular pastime and now there is actually a waiting list for available garden plots.  Gardening was a place you could see friends, have something to do and something to get passionate about.  It’s the green version of cats and dogs.  Something to love.

Being Garden Coordinators has its joys and tribulations.  Of course, one of its great joys is the chance to get to know so many avid gardeners.  Damon and Judy don’t see themselves as master gardeners. They don’t see their role as advice givers but more as making life in the garden work more smoothly.  They say that oddly enough, the old gardens were much messier than the new ones and that people are now much better at keeping their beds cleaned.  The only big issue is WEEDS.  Most people are good about weeding, but sometimes, they have to be reminded to keep their gardens from encroaching on others.

A big part of the job besides getting to know everyone and dealing with individual issues as they come up, is ordering fertilizer and maintaining a good computerized system of who has which plot, keeping track of the assigned cubby holes, what needs to be done when, etc.  People in the gardens are wonderfully supportive of one another. Sometimes people fall ill and can’t take care of their gardens and people try to help. But there does come a time when we have to help them decide if it is time to let others take over their spot.

As Judy and Damon put it, “We loved our six years on the job but we are excited to let Mike and Vicki Rugg take over.  We look forward to seeing where they will take the gardens during their time as Garden Supervisors.  It’s always nice to have new ideas and new directions.”

 

Garden Stories

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Carolyn Schenler

              

My first garden was up the hill, where the Terrace now stands. (Editor’s note: Amazing- This was two gardens ago!)   My next door neighbor here, Mr. Hammer, (where the Rexons now live) talked me into taking it when it was vacated earlier.  We gardeners used to park under the shade of an old, old oak tree next to the water tower up there.

What I was not told, was that a strip in the rear of the plot had been “loaned out” to two other resident friends.  So, later, that got me into a bit of a pickle!

AND, after spending one whole afternoon trimming a huge rose bush there for the coming summer, here came a lady the next morning, with a BIG axe over her shoulder, and a long shovel.  “I’ve come to take my mother’s rose bush!!” she declared . . . with a big tall man behind her!  No one had told me about her coming, either!!  I later learned that she had been notified, much earlier, that if she wanted anything from her mother’s garden, to come and take the plants.

But she hadn’t.  So, upon hearing that I had just trimmed the rose bush the afternoon before, she proceeded to hack the big heritage Double Delight Rose down the middle with her axe, then to dig out and take, with the man’s help, one big half of the bush!!

Later, we all got our gardens moved down the hill, in preparation for the Terrace Building.  I moved all my plants including three thorny rose bushes.  Next, came plans for the Memory Support Center, . . . so, it was “Move again.” But, again, they moved my three thorny rose bushes.  And, guess what, . . . the Double Delight Rose still has the most beautiful blossoms of any Double Delight Rose I have encountered! It handles moves better than most of us do!

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

 

Grant Koch

          

We arrived at the Manor just after the gardens were moved to the current location.  A “friend” who had already been here for a few years, had signed me up for a garden space (I’ve been advised not to use the word plot on campus) which was at the bottom of the hill near his garden.  Fine with me, I thought.  Nice view, near a friend, couldn’t be better, so I immediately signed up for an additional space adjacent to mine.  Now, what to plant besides the obvious tomatoes, strawberries and some herbs? I’ve always loved snow peas in a stir-fry or in salads, carrots and string beans, so those all went into the ground.  As the seeds

The Fox

began sprouting, I noticed something seemed to be chewing on my precious babies.  Anxious to learn who or what was doing the damage, I set a motion-activated camera down on the ground and waited.  I soon had pictures of a fox, skunks and opossums, none of which seemed too interested in my little sprouts, but then the ground squirrels showed their cute but evil faces. These were Southern invaders from the

                          the squirrel

dreaded California territory, not the beautiful Oregon Golden Mantel ground squirrels and they were up to no good.  Being at the bottom of the hill where the border fence meant to protect us from critters and golfers is virtually useless,  I was being overrun by an army of squirrels.  Even the solar powered electric fence I installed was useless against the squirrels.  They run through it so quickly they don’t notice a thing, although it does help against larger animals, including humans.  I’ve since given up on peas and beans, but strawberries will always be in the garden even if I have to share.

Directly below my vegetable garden are two more adjacent spaces which no one at the time seem interested in taking over so I asked if I could plant some grapes there.  Before moving to the Manor, I was responsible for about 20 acres of wine grapes and I couldn’t seem to get the urge to continue that work out of my system, so I planted two dozen Syrah vines.  At least

Grant’s Grapes

three years are required for new vines to produce a reasonable harvest. This year, my first harvest gave up approximately 200 pounds of fruit which I picked, squished with my feet and pressed in an old wine press.  I now have 11 gallons (about 4 cases) of rose ageing, which I hope will be ready to drink in a couple of months.  I chose rose for two reasons.  First, the fruit from young vines can be of questionable quality and second, chances of smoke taint are less in white and rose wines since the skins where the smoke first settles are quickly separated from the juice.  In the future, I hope to try my hand at making a traditional deep dark Syrah.

 

 

Some Complementary Information

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How is the Complement doing?  — we ask ourselves, and others ask us.

Last month the site had 338 visitors (not counting the editors), who looked at a total of 1500 different items.  We don’t know how many of those visits are repeats, but we typically get 100-200 visits during the 3-5 days after a new issue is announced, and we are assuming that represents individual readers.  Both visits and views go up during the month if we post and announce something after the first release.

We figure that there are about 600 residents who can and do use the internet, so we think we are attracting a quarter to a third of the potential readership.  Not bad, but we’d like to do better.

Our survey effort attracted  positive results, but not many — only seven responses.  All approved of the number of articles per issue; 4 preferred staying with the monthly format, while 3 were interested in blog approach (articles posted as they become available).  Similarly, posted comments have been favorable and constructive, but relatively few in number.

Although a majority of the articles are written by the editorial staff, we are pleased that we are receiving an increasing number of both solicited and voluntary contributions of writing and illustrations.  And, we encourage more — opening the publication up as a resident forum and platform for presenting ideas and artwork is part of the purpose.

What will the Complement do next?  We’ve reached the point where we have enough material so that it is burdensome to operate on a tight deadline.  Because our format keeps everything on view for 2-3 months, softening the publication date will not deprive a regular viewer of a chance to see everything.  We are not going to a complete blog format, but we expect to add — and advertise — more items in between the monthly issue dates.

You can expect some format modifications, especially in the PREPARE section, as activities come out of the pandemic restrictions.

We are planning to expand our approaches to issue-oriented journalism, while still staying within our commitment to factual information and civil discourse appropriate to the RVM community — see this issue’s example of flashmob journalism, and Asifa Kanji’s capstone article.

Please consider joining our efforts — not only do we feel useful, but we have fun in the process.

Hugs ‘n Cuddles

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Read more

Racism, Outrage, and Solidarity

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The following is a copy of the discussion threads posted to RVMlist over the period March 22-28 in response to an initial posting by Russy and Anita Sumariwalla.  Because the same topics were addressed in multiple threads, the listings may not be in strict chronological order, and responses may be separated from the messages they respond to.

Mini-editorial notes:
1. Racism has been worse in the past than it is now. Racism is almost certainly worse somewhere else than it is in the USA. Neither of those facts justify or excuse tolerating our present situation. The tendency to racism, as to war and sexual misbehavior, has been imbedded in our genes by our old friend Evolution. That doesn’t mean we have to accept the outcomes; our genes also produce large brains, with which we like to think we are able to manipulate our societies, governments, and cultures into more user-friendly systems.
2. Re: RVMlist protocols — there are times to whisper assent, and times to stand up and be counted. This was one of the latter. Thanks for chiming in and letting us know where you stand.
Bob Buddemeier

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[rvmlist] About Outrage and Solidarity

Yesterday, March 21st  – like all March 21st – was universally recognized [and celebrated primarily by Persia-related cultures] as Navroz or Nurooz, first day of Spring, particularly in my former hometown, Mumbai or Bombay, and my Parsi [Zoroastrian] community it is day of celebration of all things good and more good things to come.

Alas! For me and for my wife Anita, we were still mourning and recovering from the terrible shock of the senseless murders of eight persons – human beings — for no fault of their own and for just not looking like an average White American person. We bring this up now for two reasons:

First, we feel compelled to express our pure and unadulterated outrage and second, our solidarity with our fellow Asian origin residents.

 Outrage: We believe not to speak out, firmly and unashamedly, amounts to complicity. It is what encourages evildoers and mad persons to continue their heinous crimes. We have limited options under our current circumstances. What can we do and how can we express our outrage. We don’t want to be marked “complicit” in these crimes against humanity. We want to ascertain to the world that this [hate crime against Asians] is unacceptable. And so goes for antisemitism, racism, religionism, fascism and so on. And, with this open letter to RVM residents of all colors and stripes, we plead …. Show us your humanity, tell us that you too are offended, deeply hurt at this current state of affairs.

Solidarity: Our Dear Asian Origin RVM Residents – Since we cannot personally meet with you and convey to you our concern and sorrow, we resort to this forum to reach out to you to express our sympathy and empathy for the social condition you are forced into. Above all we wish to express our solidarity with you [Kumar Bhasin. Grace Chapman, Lydia Deloff, Karen Finley, Nora and Walter Fong, Alysse Furukawa, Sumie and Tom Hasegava-Stoner, Barbara Kim, Naomi and George Kobayashi, Esther and Dan Kochi, Nanci Krovitz, Nanci Lem, Arnold Lam, Amoena and Jim Quan, Teiko Saito, Salome Sato, Janet Scott, Geraldin Shimabukuro, Sachiko Spicknalli, RC Vasavada, Winnfred

Wilson, Kim and YC Wu, and, Mari and Moriaki Zaitsu { Hope we have not excluded any]. We want you to know that we have your back.

Finally, we emphatically stress that this post IS NOT POLITICAL. It has nothing to do with democrats, republicans, socialist, communists, etc. We are speaking as Americans first, under our great constitution, about our state of “humanhood”. No human being should be subjected to what happened a few days ago in Atlanta, Georgia, USA.

Russy and Anita

Russy D. Sumariwalla

 

>

Sophia Mulder via groups.io 

Thank you Russy and Anita, we appreciate your letter very much.

Tom and Sophia

 

Rita Reitz via groups.io <rreitz88=yahoo.com@groups.io>
Russy and Anita,Thank you for your letter and building awareness and solidarity within our community and in the real world in which we live.

Rita Reitz

Jane Rubey via groups.io 

Sun, Mar 21, 11:49 AM (13 days ago)
Reply

Russy,I believe you speak for the silent majority. I know many of us have quietly expressed outrage about the xenophobic treatment of Asian American Pacific Island people’s. Our voices join with yours in outrage and support for our local friends and neighbors.Thanks for speaking out.

Jane Rubey

 

Mahalo to you, Russy n AnitaI applaud and commend you for speaking up in solidarity against all Asians and people in the minority.  Thank you!!
Aloha, Salome

 

Sandy and I stand in solidarity with all who fear expressions of hate and persecution. The rise of such events as happened in Atlanta most recently brings the sickening realization that in the Information Age, we are still subject to the irrational evil of racism that devastates our American self image of freedom, democracy, and equality for all people. It needs to end. I believe it is the most destructive issue we face as a nation. We are thankful for all our neighbors here at RVM, and we treasure the cultural diversity that lives in our community. We utterly denounce the many horrible acts of homeland terrorism that continue to happen in this country.- Frank and Sandy Roberts

 

Well said.  Gini & I are in complete agreement.   And, while the most recent incident in Atlanta was against people of Asian descent, who are certainly long suffering in this country, we like to remind all that people of (some) African descent, as well as those from Latin American countries, are also long suffering – perhaps even more so.  And one can’t forget the Sikhs, pacifists as they are, who have suffered much because of their iconic turbans as well as their skin tone.
It’s all just so sad and depressing…..and yes it cries out for a rising up to suppress it all.
Ron Constable

 

Dear Russy and Anita,
Thank you for your email on discrimination which I appreciate and with which I am in full agreement.  It’s hard to believe that there are individuals who harbor so much hate against innocent people, that they would perpetrate murderous acts upon them. Please know that not only do I worry that such behavior threatens us all, but I am interested in hearing the thoughts of all RVM residents of similar mind, and would like to hear your thoughts on how to proceed further.
Thanks and Aloha,Barbara Kim

 

In this important discussion please don’t forget the ugly persecution of my ancestors, especially my native (Cherokee) great grandmother on my mother’s side and my (very white) Irish great grandmother on my father’s side whose starving parents desperately fled the Ireland potato famine only to face not only more want, but the added burden of national origin-based hatred and exclusion in their new home.  It is easy to focus on color or ethnic origin as the reasons for the hatred.  And that is indeed clearly a large part of it.  Perhaps it might also be useful to concentrate more energy on analyzing as a society exactly who the haters are — their socio-economic status, mental aptitude, mental health, etc., and see if there are more compassionate, pro-active ways  we can  either isolate them or shut down their behavior.  We don’t do a humanitarian, caring job of dealing with those with mental illness in this country, and turning them onto the streets to fend for themselves is clearly an inhumane (and frequently dangerous)  solution.  And then there are the fringe churches who actively foment hatred and even violence from their pulpits.  In a “free” society, how can we counter that hate-filled “freedom of speech?”
Linda Sindt

 

First, let me say that I agree absolutely that nobody should be discriminated against, much less murdered, because of their skin color or any other characteristics that happen to present them as “different”. After all (as I once expressed to Russy), no one of us is responsible for the skin we were born with, or the culture in which we grew up.Having said that:  I don’t think that there exists either here at RVM or in the country at large some sort of racist plague. And, so far as I know, there is no proof that the murders of which Russy speaks were racially motivated. So maybe we should all just chill out a bit. We as a nation have seen quite enough of the attempts to divide us through false accusations of “systemic racism” etc., etc.
Chuck Chase

 

Chuck,I do not believe that comments as you have written are conducive to the type of conversations that should be occurring on this rvmlist.  Yes, maybe they should be discussed, but not here.  I disagree with your assessment and am not interested in having rvmlist deteriorate into a debate or an argument.
Mark Edy

 

Mark,
1) Chuck did not start this conversation.2) His remarks are civil, reasonable, and respectful.3) The topic of the thread is one that should be of interest to all RVM residents.4) Do we really want to significantly constrain what people discuss on rvmlist?
You don’t have to agree with Chuck’s remarks (or with Russy’s remarks … or with the remarks of others who have contributed to the thread) to learn something from reading these remarks. And you don’t have to read them if you don’t want to. Why disallow any of it?
And what about Chuck’s first amendment right (and Russy’s first amendment right … and the first amendment right of every Manor resident) to speak freely? On any topic? At any time?
For what it’s worth, my own view is that we should routinely be calmly and deliberately discussing important national issues on rvmlist (as we are doing in this thread).
With respect to the issue at hand, I would say that, while no society is totally free of racial tensions (because tribal instincts are baked into our DNA by millenniums of tribal culture), America’s polyglot society, which focuses on the individual and on individual merit, irrespective of color, is about as colorblind as can reasonably be constructed. Moreover, in the limited experience of my adult lifetime, I have personally witnessed only two events that smacked of outright racial discrimination, and both of these events took place well over 50 years ago. (One was a refusal to serve blacks in a restaurant somewhere in the deep south, a practice that I suspect was widespread at the time, but I am sure has long since disappeared. The other was the blackballing of a black pledge to my college fraternity at a time when blacks were just starting to attend Ivy League colleges and universities.)
Now you can rightfully question my powers of observation, and I will grant you that one is more likely to take note of such instances if one is a member of a group that is being discriminated against; nonetheless, two instances in over 50 years is hardly a torrent of discrimination. To the extent that this record reflects the history of race relations in America over the past half century, I think it is a record that Americans can be proud of.
I can believe that some of you have occasionally experienced acts of discrimination. We live in a meritocracy, in a society in which individuals compete for money, jobs, recognition, what have you. Picking a winner is an act of discrimination. It is not difficult to know when you have lost such a competition (been discriminated against). What may be difficult is to identify the reason or reasons for this loss. It is very easy to blame the loss on skin color. But often the true reason for this act of discrimination is nonracial.
It is claimed that police apply the law unevenly, depending on the race of those apprehended. OK, this may occasionally be true of some police, but it is not generally true. And police are necessary to keep order and deter crime. It is counterproductive to defund them.
It is also not true that white supremacists are a major problem. White supremacists are simply too few and too far between to be a major cause of racial tensions. Far more troublesome is the Democrat Party’s support of last summer’s riots and what I think is its irresponsible charge of “systemic racism,” endlessly repeated to win votes and further a political agenda, and largely responsible for inflaming and sustaining the tensions it purports to address.
Good to see a reasonable and civil debate on an important national issue here on rvmlist.
Russ Snyder

 

If we are such a horrible, racist country, why do people still fight and sacrifice even their lives to get here?   I must assume that it is better here than where people came from–or they would find a way to go “home.”  Very few immigrants come here in fear of the “systemic discrimination” they must have heard about before they came.
As for tribal envy and animosity in any culture, it will be ever thus. America is not a perfect country.  We can do better.  But dwelling on our lack of perfection is counter-productive.  It’s just part of self-imposed “white guilt” to obsess so much about our racial inequities.  America is still the land of opportunity, and people who choose to meld into our society still have a very good chance of being better off here than anywhere else.

Janet Bourque

 

Sadly this song pretty much sums up how many people learn to discriminate against and hate others.Lt. Cable, in the movie South Pacific, sang “You’ve Got to be Carefully Taught”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VPf6ITsjsgkYou’ve got to be taught
To hate and fear,
You’ve got to be taught
From year to year,
It’s got to be drummed
In your dear little ear
You’ve got to be carefully taught.You’ve got to be taught to be afraid
Of people whose eyes are oddly made,
And people whose skin is a diff’rent shade,
You’ve got to be carefully taught.You’ve got to be taught before it’s too late,
Before you are six or seven or eight,
To hate all the people your relatives hate,
You’ve got to be carefully taught!
In 2007 when Jere and I returned to Swaziland (now called Eswatini) for an emergency mission, in order to repair the orphanage primary school demolished by a huge wind storm, I witnessed discrimination even among the Africans.  Our team consisted of a black woman from the US.  The women of our team were reclaiming bricks from the debris pile.  A young local Swazi woman, who had been to the orphanage dairy to purchase milk, saw us working and came to chat with us.  She thought that our black team member had come from further up north, like Kenya, because her skin color was darker than hers.  She made her prejudice clear by her tone of voice and facial expressions.
In another instance, I had my hair trimmed at a local beauty salon and my operator was half Afrikaner and half South African (Afrikaners are Dutch descendants in southern Africa).  He said that when he worked in South Africa, he was too light and when he worked in Swaziland, he was too dark.  So he felt that he could never fit in with the natives regardless of where he lived.
“Muzungu”, and its many derivatives throughout Africa, for all intents and purposes means white man, as does “haole” in Hawai’i.  In 2020 when Jere and I were in Mbabane, the capital of Swaziland, at a hardware store, we were chatting with a Swazi male clerk.  He pointed out that I was a “muzungu”.  I put my arm next to Jere’s arm to show him the difference in color, but he still persisted in calling me “muzungu”.  I was a “muzungu” merely because I was the wife of a white man.   If I was there without Jere, I wonder what he would consider me as being?
Intertribal hatred was best illustrated during our modern times with the Rawandan genocide of the Tutsi by the Hutu.  Also there was the 2007-2008 Kenyan crisis with the Kikuyu being slaughtered by the non-ruling minority tribes following the presidential re-election of the former Kikuyu president.   We had just served in Kenya in the summer of 2007, so the uprisings that winter filled our hearts with fear for the people we knew, when we saw news broadcasts of the carnage in the streets.  Currently the Rohingya muslims are fleeing persecution in Myanmar as well as the Uigur muslims in China.  Man’s inhumanity to man…when will it end?

😉 janet scott

 

LOCAL CARDIOLOGIST SAYS SHE HAS SEEN THE RISE IN ASIAN HATE CRIMES I’m sorry Chuck, I’m just wondering where you get your news. This was on yesterday’s channel 12. It’s happening all over the place. I don’t think we can say that this is simply an isolated incident. We do have to recognize it for what it is and we have to say it’s not OK. It is happening here in our community as it is happening everywhere in the United States. It is not OK and we have to recognize it for what it is.
I know it would be wonderful to assume that we are all without prejudice and that we are all loving people with only positive thoughts but this does exist and it is not OK And this is what Russy  was trying to say.
One local Cardiologist says she has been experiencing Asian hate crime during the pandemic.Posted: Mar 21, 2021 2:39 PMUpdated: Mar 22, 2021 9:22 AMPosted By: CNNOre. — A Southern Oregon cardiologist in the Rogue Valley has been recieving racial backlash during the pandemic for being an Asian American.At the start of the pandemic, Jae said a man got into her face and tried to rip her mask off in the middle of a grocery store.”I was confronted by a man who was very upset with me being there, telling me that I brought the China virus in this community and I should get out,” the 43-year-old cardiologist from Oregon said. “He tried to rip the mask off my face. It was very scary and I just had to leave.”He called her a b*tch — but what was worse, Jae said, was that he also called her a racial slur for Chinese people.”I’m not even Chinese. I’m Korean, for God’s sake, you know? My first reaction is to try to make him understand that this is absolutely false,” she said. “My latter thought was this is getting dangerous. I think … I may get physically hurt.”Shaken, Jae went home and told her husband about what happened that day in spring 2020. She never reported the incident and she stopped going to the store at night — she tried not to go out at night at all, except when she was needed at the hospital, she said.In the past year, Jae started to notice that now she avoids crowds too, especially in the wake of the attacks and violence on Asian Americans. Jae said she was hurt and scared by what happened, especially since she’s part of this community. Patients stop her in the streets and people recognize her in her city, which is less than 100,000 people, she said.Jae said she hopes people start seeing Asian Americans as part of the communities where they live.”I think the violence happens because you see these people as the other people, other people who cause harm, other people who done me wrong, other people who brought this virus,” she said. “These are all misinformation where people are considered to be others.”She wishes she would have said something earlier to stand up for other minority groups facing racism.”I wish I spoke up sooner for all violence against minorities, like when the Black Lives Matter movement happened, when there were people, other minorities who were facing just crushing racism and violence,” she said.
Joni Johnson

 

Well said, Joni. Thank you!-Terri Lambert

 

Good for you Joni.
For him to say, the Atlanta incident has not been proven to be racially motivated, does not automaticallymean it ‘wasn’t’.   All we do know, that 6 Asian’s were killed, he knew going in they were Asian’s.  Sountil we know more, let’s not assume it was NOT racially motivated.
There are numerous incidents in various periodicals, TV etc. throughout the country about Asian hate crimes.So for them, it’s not so simple, to just ‘chill out’.
Chuck G

 

Thank you, Joni.
I think a simple way of pointing out ’the problem’ is to ask:  Would you like to change places with that person?  Chris Rock, a well known black comedian said during one of his performances attended by essentially all white folks “There isn’t one of you in this audience who would change places with me, and I’m rich!”
Ron Constable

 

Thank you Barbara.  I too would like to hear from the rest of the group how we should proceed to eliminate racism; murder and such.  This is a terrible trait of humans.
We all know that the man (his actions are part of the reason I support the death penalty) has said that his motivation was sexism not racism, that the FBI and Sheriff have said the same thing and that two of his victims were White women whose only crime seemingly was that they “didn’t look enough like normal white people” ; see earlier post in this thread).
This was a crime against women; not just Asian women.
I have spend most of my adult life in, and studying, Asia and know without a bit of doubt that Asians hate even more violently than Americans.  That’s not an excuse for an American of any color (white is a color) to act violently or hatefully towards “the other”.  I just know that the Chinese hate the Japanese (as do the Koreans); the Vietnamese hate the Chinese; the Khmer had the Vietnamese; the Thais hate the Khmer; the Indonesians hate the Chinese; Muslims hate Hindus; Hindus hate Muslims .  And all these hatreds are expressed frequently in far more physical violence than anything is US history (possibly the slave trade would be the exception; only “possibly” because the ethnic cleanings in Asia sometimes number in the millions.)  Did I mention the Rohinga?  Or the Uighurs?
Don’t take any of that to mean that I don’t like Asians.  I just know that they, like Americans, are wonderful but flawed beings.
So, when we propose to do something about the real problem before us, we are talking about changing human nature.  Pretty tall order.
And the current trend of supporting racist attacks on whites is not the answer.  Hate never produces love.
I used to think education was the way ahead, but now it’s our most educated elite (college professors , journalists, etc.) who are among the most rabid proponents of racial segregation, elimination of free speech, and hate sessions in the name of “justice”.
Law?  We have numerous laws about such “hate” crimes; apply them fairly without regard to who breaks them.
A first step might be for us all to stop using slogans and jargon to discuss our problems.  And to stop automatically assuming that those who disagree with us are either stupid or evil (jumping to that assumption is another human trait).  And to stop pretending that America is exceptional in hatred.
Another good step would be to recommit to MLK’s Dream:  judging people by their character not their skin.
For all who are in solidarity with the idea that we have created the most violently racist country  on earth; you should immediately and very vocally, tell all the POC outside the country to stay home where they are safer and have more opportunity.  You owe it to them.  Don’t construe that to mean that I am anti-immigration; absolutely not.  I just see the feel-good hypocrisy in encouraging the poor and hopeless of other nations to come to a place you are righteously certain endangers them daily.
You can cancel me now.
Butch Finley

 

A good point Ron, but personally I wouldn’t like to change places with anyone if asked that question.

Bill Silfvast

 

As one brown-skinned immigrant who has endured many acts of racism, from systemic to personal, from benign to violent over the course of my life, I often find myself thinking and at times uttering racial slurs against others. Shouldn’t the discussion be around examining our own prejudices and finding support from each other to work through them? Isn’t that a way to begin to make the world a better place – right now and with ourselves?

Asifa

 

Dear Numerous Respondents to my post a couple of days ago on “Outrage and Solidarity”. I am overwhelmed with the unexpectedly large response to my post. I wish I can respond to each and every one of you … some of you took time to relate your own experiences and wrote very eloquently in agreement with my call. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your solidarity and kindness. It is very comforting in these difficult times.
Thank you and please stay safe.

Russy and Anita

 

If this angers, so be it. Russy’s expression of Outrage and Solidarity is not an opinion piece – it’s a gift of his deepest beliefs – and one where he took extreme care to depoliticize (IMHO).  As with any gift, a simple “thank you” is in order and honest inquiries concerning specific aspects would be as well.  But attempts to bend or recontextualize his words into the reader’s “world view” are not only uninvited, they’re also demeaning, invalidating, and rude.The undertone of critics was “Allow me to amend your beliefs so they better represent mine” which, of course, would then be the correct beliefs.  The recurrent themes focus upon “relative racism” and “denial of racism”.  Few among us would choose to be racist so before going any further, I’ll replace it with the less charged word of “judgmental”.A precept of enlightenment is “we don’t have judgments, they have us”.  Our minds are crammed full of associations – some that we’re aware of but probably more that we’re not.  If I say “popcorn”, many will reflect immediately upon a favorite movie theater, others the cousin that choked on it, and me – Friday nights watching Ozzie and Harriet.  Every one of us is wired differently by our unique intersection of genetics, environment, and experiences.If you’re with me thus far, then the next step is to simply recognize that among the myriad of filed mental judgments (that have us) are ones involving race.  Not only is this not wrong, it’s inevitable.  We have judgments on everything under the sun – hair color, body shapes, Wednesdays, dust – and the sun, too, for that matter.  Thoughts about race, sex, age, and size only move from harmless observation to harmful discrimination – racism, sexism, ageism, size-ism – when they’re codified into personal truths and/or transformed into actions.My invitation yet again to any who’ve persevered is to seek a little introspection.  Are you willing to entertain the possibility that your life is shaped more by your reactions than your cognition?  If not, that’s fine – but why not just noodle it a bit?  Then again maybe you are special – a truly rational human being.As for me, I’ve long contended that human beings are all insane (every one of us holds beliefs that can be empirically disproven) but that’s a given – not the issue.  It’s fine that we’re all a little off kilter as long as we’re no danger to ourselves or others.So have I just been guilty of my own accusations – of selling you my world view?  Probably.  And I’ll gladly go a step further.  Thoughtful discussions regarding this post – friendly or otherwise – will be welcomed; personal attacks in any mode will be deleted.

  • Please observe Skip’s guideline that copying the full rvmlist should be done sparingly.  I’ve done so here because I believe it to be justified.  Please relay any feedback on this post individually to me unless you believe it will be of community interest.

Thank you from a know-it-all who knows he doesn’t.

Dennis Q Murphy

 

THE TRANSFORMATION OF A RACIST
Though my emotional sympathies lie with Russy and those who have wholeheartedly endorsed his original message, I also appreciate the input of Chuck and Russ.  My experience differs significantly from many who have written on this topic, and I think it might be worth sharing some of it.  I was raised poor though not impoverished in Southern Arizona.  African American, Asian Americans and Native Americans (though none of them were designated by those terms) were relatively rare in the general population.  Even Hispanics though there were many more were still a numerical minority.  I was raised a racist though I didn’t know that word and didn’t know I was one.  I was also raised a conservative Christian and all the pictures I saw of Jesus were of a white man.  My father eventually became a Conservative Baptist Minister.  He welcomed “Negroes” and “Mexicans” in his churches.  I don’t remember there ever being and Asian members.  I’m sure he remained a steadfast racist regarding “Japs” and “Indians” until he died.  The Lone Ranger with his sidekick Tonto was my childhood hero.
I think I first became aware of racism in high school.  I was offended by my Spanish teacher’s insistence that Castilian Spanish pronunciation was the only correct use of Spanish.  I had chosen to take Spanish so that I could more readily converse with the students whose first language was Spanish, but our teacher was insisting that their pronunciation was incorrect.  The public schools in AZ were not segregated but the black students kept to themselves and they lived on the other side of the train tracks.  I chose to eat lunch with them.  I wasn’t rebuffed by them nor particularly welcomed, but neither they nor I had any doubt that they were considered to be less able academically and not generally welcomed socially.  Hispanic students mingled more freely with the predominant white students, but they were far from integrated into the general student body.  I formed no close friendships with the black students though I did get to know some of them fairly well.  I think it is farcical to say that the non-white students in my high school were now or had been given equal opportunity.  Did they take full advantage of the opportunities they had?  Almost certainly not, but were they actually able to choose to do so?  Again, almost certainly not.
College for me was in a private strongly religiously oriented small school in CA.  The total student population was between 300 and 400 and non-white students were rare.  In my Freshman class there was one Native American student, Caleb, whose prior education was in a missionary school in Northern AZ.  This was the first time I heard someone with whom I had personal contact express outrage at the racism he had personally experienced.  Listening to Caleb’s grievances, with the background of my father’s occasional rants about the worthless, lazy Indians was enlightening, but I was still cocooned within the dominantly white society.
I needed to work to pay for my education after high school, and some of the many jobs I had made me aware of discrimination in the workplace.  This was no where near the “professional” level of employment.  Every Summer I worked in the cantaloupe industry that gets those delicious melons to the rest of the population.  There are were no easy jobs.  Some have subsequently become easier with mechanization, but in my time in the industry cantaloups were picked and placed into gunny sacks that were carried or dragged to the trailers that transported them to the packing sheds.  There is no shade in a cantaloup field.  I started work in June in Yuma, AZ.  I didn’t ever pick cantaloups.  I worked in the packing sheds.  Mexicans took those great jobs all day in the sun with the high temperature almost always exceeding 100 degrees F. from those eager Americans who were clamoring [NOT] for them.  Once the cantaloups arrived at the packing sheds Mexican Americans (men and women) almost exclusively had the lowest paying jobs throwing out the culls and and sorting into various categories before the melons reached the packing bins.  With very few exceptions all the high paying jobs from this point forward in the packing and loading process were held by white men.  I was one of those lucky white men.  One Summer I ran out of work for a few weeks, and did do some field work harvesting lima beans.  I was the only white man on a crew of about 50 men.  This was not in an area with 100+ degree highs, but near Oxnard CA near to the Pacific coast, and a lot of the harvesting was mechanized.  There was no shade, and I would never choose that as my main employment.
My status as a white male enabled me to pay for education without the burden of student loans.  With my Stanford Ph. D. In philosophy, that same status made it easier than it would otherwise have been for me to get employment in a profession dominated by white men.  Circumstances resulted in my choosing San Francisco State College (later to become a university).  During my years as a professor there our student population came to have no racial majority.  The strike by the Black Students Union joined by the American Federation of Teachers union and others produced among other thing what has become the College of Ethnic Studies.  Due to my wife at the time, I had become well informed about sexual discrimination against women, but the students now turned my attention to the many ways that ethnic minorities in the USA did not have equal opportunity with the white men that got almost all the high paying jobs in our economy.
My exposure personal and intellectual to the evidence of widespread inequality of opportunity has led me to believe that we are by no means a meritocracy, governed by people selected on the basis of their ability.  Ability needs opportunity and in our society that opportunity is in many many instances not present.  This isn’t always because of a person’s race, but it often has been and still is.  Governing is actually less important than educational and economic opportunity.  We have made progress in providing the needed opportunities, and we are unlikely to every achieve EQUAL opportunity to all our citizens, but the unattainability of a goal is not necessarily a good reason to give up the goal.  Lesser goals that are attainable are also needed.
We should be proud of the improvements in opportunity for women and ethnic minorities, but we should NOT let those improvements blind us to the needs that still remain.  A major reason for the use of the phrase “systemic racism” is to point out that we can be part of a system that generates racial inequality without intending to stifle anyone’s opportunity.  We can be part of such a system while intending not to stifle anyone’s opportunity.  I fell into that first category for much of my life, and I’m now in the second category.  You don’t have to be a racist to be part of such a system.  I agree that white supremacists are now relatively rare and not a major part of the problem we face.  The more people we can move into the category of intending not to stifle anyone’s opportunity the better our chances of changing the system will be.
Don Provence

 

Dear Donald:
Under normal circumstances I would have addressed this post directly to you and you only but now  my conscience tells me that this is not about politics and this  is not a “political” post but something that’s needed to be said for the good of this great nation – greatness of a people/nation resides in the willingness of the people in recognizing where the faults lie and what to do about them. In other words don’t shove them under the rug!
Yes Donald, systemic racism exists in our great nation whether you like it or not. Just as it exits practically in every nation. But that’s not to be used as a “cop out”. Are we proud of our systemic racism? I personally know really wonderful, good, kind, friendly, highly educated  RVM residents who in their hearts of hearts believe that there is NO systemic racism in the U.S. Sorry, but I can point to ample empirical evidence to the contrary and you wouldn’t want me to. It is laying in front of your eyes unless you are living in your own cocoon. We must open our eyes to this diagnosis so that we may take small/big steps to ameliorate the problem.
Good nights fellow residents … tomorrow will be a more cheerful Day.
russy

 

I absolutely and completely agree with you Russy.That was extremely well said ~ I applaud you.Bright minds, who can write long scholarly dissertations, doesn’t necessarily mean their opinions are valid.

Chuck G.

Big, Borrowed, or Both

/in ,

Sometimes we come across interesting things that have been produced elsewhere or don’t quite fit in our format.  Why should that stop us?

 

Once again, Russy Sumariwalla provides us with a reflective essay on general topics — the global environment and population — viewed from the specific context of his unique background — India and Zoroastrianism,  Click here to taste the junction of philosophy, religion and sustainable development.

 

Inaugural Poem:  The Hill We Climb, by Amanda Gorman

 

3550: The online quarterly magazine of the Portland Mirabella (also a PRS CCRC facility), it is an open internet publication.

 

The Mirabella Monthly newsletter of the Seattle Mirabella is available in PDF format by (free) subscription: email jaredcurtis@icloud.com   To download the March issue, Click here

 

The UN@75: Why Should We Celebrate?  On the occasion of the 75th anniversary of the United Nations, Russy Sumariwalla writes a reflective essay on its significance.  Previously distributed via RVMlist.  Click here to download

 

The First Step

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A journey of a thousand miles starts with a single step.

 

A single step is what the nerds call a necessary but not sufficient condition for a thousand-mile journey.  A first step may not lead to a thousand miles, but you definitely won’t go a thousand miles without taking one.  It’s great to applaud our RVM volunteers as they cross the finish line, but this article is meant to show encouragement and appreciation for those willing to take that first step  — new volunteers, or volunteers in a new position.

Janet McGary, Chair of the Tutorial Committee

Jan has taken a big first step into the position long held by Bob Saunders, where she will be working with the tutorial committee to bring us enjoyable and educational presentation series on Friday mornings.  She brings to the job a master’s degree in Art History, as well as teaching and travel experience.  She looks forward to ideas and suggestions from interested residents.

Vicky Gorrell, secretary of the Dining Services Advisory Committee

Vicki stepped into a low-profile but critically important position.  Advisory committee secretaries create the posted minutes that not only keep committee operations on track, but also provide residents with an opportunity to stay informed about issues within the committee’s area of responsibility.  Vicki also provides, on her own initiative, weekly reformatted (8.5×11″. larger print) versions of the menus

 

Patty Robb, member, Birthday Lunch Committee

Patty steps into the position held by Carolyn Schenler for 15 years(!).  Patty and her husband arrived at the beginning of the lockdown, so has never seen RVM in action.  This is her very first first step into the RVM volunteer world, and she’s looking forward to learning what she and the committee will be doing.  We think she deserves extra points for taking her first step in the dark.

 

Annabel Ross, Resident Business Office Monitor

Do you photocopy, cut, staple, browse?  If so, Annabel is the one who keeps you going by stocking and organizing the Resident Business Office.  Although this is a relatively new job for her, it is far from her first first step — She is an Annex Sale functionary, a Neighborhood Coordinator for RPG, and someone who can be counted on to show up when a call goes out for volunteers.  Her inventory of first steps puts her in the running for the prestigious Millipede Award.

Michael Rugg, Resident Gardens Chair

Mike Rugg has taken over the garden plots management from Damon and Judy Simpson.  He and his wife are both gardeners, and he brings his experience and enthusiasm to his new volunteer job.  Mike and the gardens were featured in an article in the April issue of hillTOPICS (p 10).

Jordan Mo, Historian

Jordan stepped into the Resident Council Historian job to replace Daphne Fautin.  Her self-introduction was published earlier in The Complement.

 

 

 

Worker Bees keep things buzzing with sweet results

The Wellness Advisory Committee (WAC), currently co-chaired by Saul Krimsly and Dolores Fisette, has been the source of many new volunteer projects, staffed by many new volunteers (the worker bees).  Jane and Steve Harris, the former WAC co-chairs, have been instrumental in many of those.  Jane and Steve took their first first steps long ago, but every time you think your journey has ended, there is the opportunity for a new first step.  Theirs came when they re-enlisted at the behest of Dan Wagner after RVM went into lockdown and there was great need on campus for resident support.  I can’t do any better than quote Jane’s description.

“* In response to the isolation of the pandemic lockdown, we organized and I continue to manage the 2020 Card Writing project, where 28 volunteers have been paired with residents.  They communicate with their recipients through written cards, emails, phone calls, and walks.
* For the 2020 Holidays, at the suggestion of new resident Asifa Kanji, Saul and Dolores organized a Secret Santa activity where participants received the name of a resident and secretly provided him/her with a gift on Christmas Eve.  The Secret Santa received a gift from his/her own Secret Santa.  This livened up our Holiday Season.
*   A team of four of us – Barbara Moore, Dolores Fisette, Saul Krimsly, and I – created and managed the Valentine’s Day card making project for the children of Willow Wind Community School in Ashland in response to the beautiful Holiday cards they sent to us in December.  Over 60 residents created beautiful hand-made valentines, over 180 in all, that were delivered to the school.  This has created an intergenerational relationship with children outside of our RVM community.
*  Currently, a WAC member, Judy Blue, is organizing a Pen Pal Project with Willow Wind to be started in the Fall.”

Staff member Sarah Karnatz has joined the WAC and the worker bees and played a major role in developing and carrying out the programs — a great example of resident-staff cooperation.

So we had 28 card writers, 60 valentine makers, and significant numbers of Secret Santas and pen-pals stepping up.  It would be great to acknowledge the worker bees individually, but we have to do it on a whole-hive basis.  With all of those legs they should be able to keep up a whole lot of stepping, as long as they heed the COVID warning:  keep six feet apart.