Monday, March 23, 2009

True Life

© 2009 Karen Van Fossan

A Scene from True Life

Setting: Not quite the standard nursing-home bedroom.
One of the decorations reads, "War Is Not The Answer."

KAREN: Hello, Ferne! It's Karen.

Ferne (at nearly 100 years old) lifts her chin from her chest.

FERNE: Yes.

Karen improvises a weather report, giving the shapes of clouds, the progress of the birds. Soon, Karen will read to Ferne from progressive magazines. But first, they chat about peace. An idea --

KAREN: I wonder if you have any words of wisdom to pass along to the next generations of peacemakers...?

Chuckling --

FERNE: I doubt it.

After a thoughtful pause -

FERNE: I think peace has to start within oneself.

Ferne's roommate, Marilyn, makes a giggling sound. Karen turns and smiles.
Marilyn says to Karen
--

MARILYN: You have...real...nice...teeth.

End of Scene

Marilyn has a knack for this kind of humor.

Her impression of daytime soap operas:

"Do you love me? Yes, I love you. No, I don't love you! Is anybody dead? No, nobody's dead. But let's talk about it first!"

Not as comedic as Marilyn, Ferne's wit tends toward the profound:

"We always prepare for war, when we should prepare for peace."

I gather their words of wisdom.

And (I confess) I gather yours. For instance...

"My wish for you is to see wild horses."
Julie Huwe, peacemaker

"I'd rather sit down and talk with a pig than eat one."
William Glen Van Fossan, my grandpa

"Let your life speak."
Tim Mathern, North Dakota Senator (adapted from the Quaker saying)

“We aren't the best looking, the richest, or the smartest – but we're the ones who live here.”
Winona LaDuke, founder of Honor the Earth

"I like crocodiles!"
Student, Head Start

"I like snakes!"
Harley, my young cousin

"I eat until I'm full."
Connor, first-grade friend

"Through my moving body I discover my multiple names."
Louise M. Pare', women's spirituality author

"It's not a haircut unless you regret it. And maybe cry."
Ramona Redding Lopez, artist

"Love delights to surprise you."
Lisa Bassett, poet

Setting: True Life

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Being Brilliant

© 2009 Karen Van Fossan

The motto of my life has finally appeared.

It all began (like much of my life) at the Seeds of Hope thrift store -- with Ruth Hauff, Eva Hartnett, and "Mrs. Walter Ell."

As far as I know, I've never actually met them. But at 50¢ a piece, their artwork is now on proud display in my office. They signed their work on the back (in Palmer-style script, of course), complete with Minot addresses.

How their art journeyed from the Minot City Art League to a thrift store here in Bismarck -- I can't begin to guess. But it brought me to my motto.

Eventually.

First, the "Celebration of Women and Their Music" in Fargo.

I saw Susan Phelan surf her upright bass, Brenda Weiler ache for her sister, Angie Stevens cast a spell of enchantment on every one of us, and Kris Kitko make us laugh our pants off.

Pants or not, I was getting closer to my motto.

Then there was today. Well, last night.

Lately, my nighttime ritual has been this:
1) Read passages from The Chalice and the Blade by Riane Eisler.
2) Imagine myself in an ancient culture of peace and art and equality, where art by women, music by women, is everywhere and everything, the joy of life itself.
3) Cry myself to sleep. (Sometimes literally.)

Last night, as I did all this, I anticipated today -- and the adolescent girls' Creative Writing Group.

As their co-leader, what could I offer?

Respect? Yes.
My training? Sure.
But what did I hope they might learn?

The girls wrote powerful pieces today, bravely giving them voice. And I was able, at last, to say these words:

We do not try to be brilliant. We try to be authentic.
In being authentic, we are brilliant.


My new motto.

Friday, February 20, 2009

The Great Turning: From American Empire to...Drag Show?

© 2009 Karen Van Fossan

It was at a Drag Show, of all things. My introduction to Professor Hal Bertilson's peace ideology came at a Drag Show. I didn't actually spot Professor Bertilson in the Drag Show aisles (or on stage in a sequined dress). But on Sunday morning, as I listened to him speak (in tweed coat and trousers) at the Unitarian-Universalist Fellowship, I kept sensing the connection. What did Saturday's Drag Show have to do with Sunday morning's service? That's what I intended to figure out!

A Drag Show, as you probably know, often features both Drag Queens and Drag Kings. Generally, Drag Queens are men who dress and entertain in an exaggerated womanly fashion. I'm told that the term "Drag Queen" comes from early-20th-century English slang, where "Drag" meant clothes and "Queen" referred to the affected royalty of the performers. By extension, a Drag King is usually a woman who dresses and performs in exaggerated manly (kingly) fashion. Saturday night's Drag Show in Bismarck offered an array of North Dakota Kings and Queens, lip-syncing, dancing, and displaying on the Civic Center stage.

That was Saturday night.

Fast forward to Sunday morning and Hal Bertilson. Title of his talk: The Great Turning -- Evolution of Community. His purpose: To share insights (and hear ours) about transforming our Empire into an Earth-Based Community. Quite a big topic. (Almost as big as Miss Janessa's hair on Saturday night.)

A special guest from the University of Wisconsin-Superior, Professor Hal Bertilson has studied and taught Peace Psychology for much of his career. A quote from Hal:

"One of the tenets of Peace Psychology is that there is both Direct Violence and Structural Violence. Structural Violence includes conditions where people do not have adequate food or shelter, inadequate health care, degradation of the environment, and the hierarchical domination by a few in a society of the many -- something that Riane Eisler in the Chalice and the Blade...calls Domination and David Korten, in his recent books, calls Empire."

Like David Korten, whose work Hal Bertilson teaches, Hal believes that we, as members of Earth's most recent Empire, can indeed turn away from Empire toward true Community. And we must. As the economy, the environment, the supply of natural resources, all face potential disaster -- the lifestyle of the Empire, the culture of over-use and under-responsibility, must be changed.

We can "build a culture of love and peace rather than hate and fear," he says. "We are living in the Empire where life is hostile and competitive, power is loved, the masculine is dominant, and order is imposed via a dominator hierarchy. We have a choice. We can choose instead Earth Community where life is supportive and cooperative. Humans have many possibilities. Order is imposed through partnership. We cooperate, love life, defend the rights of all, and ensure gender balance."

Hal mentions the work of Riane Eisler, who has shown that people co-existed in peace-loving, Earth-loving cultures for many millennia. Surely Earth Community is within our reach as human beings.

But what's stopping us? How do we interrupt our own intentions? Hal sees mega-corporations, perhaps more than any other entity, as purveyors of the unsustainable Empire.

His recommendation for Wall Street? Let it collapse.

"Spending trillions of dollars trying to fix Wall Street is a fool’s errand," says Hal. Let us build our economy at the local level. "Our economic system has failed in every dimension: Financial, environmental, and social."

He quotes from David Korten:

"Our hope lies not with the Wall Street phantom wealth machine, but rather the real world economy of Main Street, where people engage in the production and exchange of real goods and services to meet the real needs of their children, families, and communities, and where they have a natural interest in maintaining the health and vitality of their natural environment."

So what can we do? According to Hal, David Korten "offers concrete suggestions for people in community working together for...a 'political turning.' A move toward local, human-scale enterprises, by entrepreneurs who are members of the community in which they live, who care about their communities. Local food production. Open political processes. Citizen participation. Direct election -- one person, one vote. Open debates. And so much more..."

That's quite a list of recommendations.

Still, Hal didn't mention Drag Shows. If we'd had a little more time, maybe he would have.

Since last weekend, I'm convinced that Drag Shows can model peacemaking in our world.

Jonathan Schell, Peace Fellow at the Nation Institute, writes about peacemaking all the time. In a recent article, he discusses the combined crises of the economy, environment, nuclear weapon stockpiles, and others. "All the crises display one...common feature," he says. "All have been based on the wholesale manufacture of delusions. The operative word here is 'bubble.' A bubble, in the stock market or anywhere, is a real-world construct based on fantasies. When the fantasy collapses, the construct collapses, and people are hurt."

So here's what I love about North Dakota Drag Shows:

Bubbles collapse all over the place. The bubble in which women look like "women." The bubble where men act "manly." The bubble that separates local folk from the glitzy, sparkling wealthy, our modern-day royalty. The bubble that says only famous equals good.

Before our very eyes, Drag Shows toy with deception. They call our own delusions, as members of this Empire, into question. In so doing, they surprise us, and they delight us. Sometimes, they make us laugh. As we watch performers playing with the bubbles of our Empire, we find that we can live without our delusions.

Here's what I love the most:

It's fun.

When we turn away from Empire, it doesn't have to hurt.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

"Women's Lobby Day" or "Is It Time for You to Run for the ND Legislature?"

© 2009 Karen Van Fossan

I probably never mentioned this, but my career in politics started early.

At age 16, I found myself in Springfield, Illinois, a member of the "38th Session of the Illinois Youth Legislature." We deliberated in the chambers of the real, live capitol, which, as we said at the time, was totally awesome!

The first (and only) bill I ever cosponsored would have (had it passed) created a committee in each school to evaluate the competency of high school teachers. I had hoped that the next generation would get a fair shake at a good education.

Apparently, I'd had enough of the chemistry teacher who named the two smartest boys on Day One and henceforth ignored the rest of us -- as well as the history teacher who blithely joked that Amendments 18 and 19, Prohibition and Women's Suffrage, were just one mistake after another.

Sadly, my high school foray into politics (not to mention chemistry and history) was less than rewarding. But I never quite gave it up. As an occasional lobbyist and forever activist, I've been called everything from sinful to anti-American to a "kook" -- by legislators themselves.

For the above reasons and more, I loved Women's Lobby Day, or Women Empowered Rise, which the ND Women's Network sponsored this Wednesday. The North Dakota capitol felt like home to me that day. I could just about taste the urgency and the hope, a potent combination.

Eight Joys of Women's Lobby Day:

1) Being one of over 100 eager women crowding the halls of the capitol.

2) Hearing women legislators urge all 100+ of us to run for office.

3) Getting newsflashes about bills to better our lives.

4) Listening to Kris Kitko's rousing rendition of "Sisters Are Doing It For Themselves."

5) Chatting with hungry legislators in the lunch line.

6) Sitting on the Senate floor as a special guest.

7) Sharing smiles with both Republican and Democratic legislators, whom I hadn't seen since last session.

8) Being the official photographer of the day -- and having license to put my nose in other people's business.

Half as Many Heartbreaks:

1) Feeling dismissed by my legislator when bending his ear.

2) Hearing the Senate's prayer of the day, in which the guest Pastor praised the North Dakota Senate for being "conservative" and "Bible-believing," and then asserted that in our time, "the consequences of sin" no longer appear to be what they should be.

3) Watching Senator Tim Mathern's bill -- to provide health insurance to 100% of North Dakota's children -- die on the floor of the Senate.

4) Seeing a woman legislator do her part to kill it.

The death of this bill, and the process by which it died, would have shocked me more at age 16 than it did this past Wednesday.

But I can't help believing the next generation will get a fair shake -- one of these days.

Monday, February 2, 2009

On a Scale of 1 to 10, I Give "Milk" a 100

© 2009 Karen Van Fossan

The only reason I'm not watching Milk right now -- it's not currently playing in Bismarck. As my brother said, "This is the kind of movie you wait for." Someday, someone may try to convince me that Sean Penn is not Harvey Milk II, but I will never believe it.

In college, my friend Shashi had a certain fondness for Harvey Milk, but it took me until now to catch on. In addition to inspiring my favorite movie on earth, Harvey Milk's life also inspired a documentary (which Shashi brought to our college), a book, and even an opera.

Some curious facts about Harvey Milk:

1) He began his work for social justice when he was...
A. In his 40s.
B. In love.
C. A camera-shop owner in San Francisco.
D. All of the above.

2) During his career, he...
A. Joined the service.
B. Worked at an insurance company.
C. Served as the first out gay man elected to public office in the U.S.
D. All of the above.

3) He gained prominence in San Francisco by speaking out against...
A. The anti-union stance of Coors Beer.
B. Dog poop.
C. Proposition 6, which would fire all gay and lesbian teachers in California -- as well as any teacher who supported them.
D. All of the above.

4) As a member of San Francisco's Board of Supervisors, Harvey Milk received...
A. Death threats.
B. Come-ons.
C. The loyalty and respect of thousands.
D. All of the above.

5) True or False. Harvey Milk often compared politics to theater.

See you at the theater! Or maybe at the legislative session...

(Oh. And the answers... Everything's true.)

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Teenage Strangers

© 2009 Karen Van Fossan

If you've never been called a b**ch by random, teenage strangers, you don't know what you're missing.

Naturally, I was minding my own business when the whole thing took place.

Location: Corner of 16th Street and Avenue F in Bismarck, ND.
Time: Not long after the local high school let out.
Temperature: Zero degrees Fahrenheit, not including windchill.
My activity: Standing on the curb, waiting to cross the street.
My wardrobe: Suitable for Zero degrees.

Have you pieced it all together?

It took me a while to piece anything together. When the guys yelled out their SUV window, "Nice scarf, B**ch!" I was shocked. Furious. Vengeful. Thirsty for their blood.

What I wasn't -- was clever.

My own teenage years did nothing to prepare me for scarf-related harassment. What's a witty comeback for “Nice scarf”?

Takes one to know one! OR At least I know how to use it! aren't going to cut it.

Then, of course, there's the “B**ch” part. I considered an obscene gesture. But my fingers got it all jumbled up with the hand sign for Peace.

Anyway, as you might imagine, the whole thing raised my temperature quite a bit. I barely needed a scarf anymore.

Even a nice one like this.

Thursday, January 8, 2009

Who's Back There... (or The Meaning of Life)

© 2009 Karen Van Fossan

Ever have an encounter that revealed the meaning of life -- or at least put your own life into perspective? Here's mine:

I'm walking through a parking lot in Boulder, Colorado. Ahead, I spot a van -- a 60s-style van, painted in pastels, back end covered in bumper stickers. The van is in my path, in the direction I'm already going, so I head that way. Come to find out, the van won't move. The passenger leans on her open door, trying to walk the van forward.

Then, all of a sudden, a tidy-looking sedan pulls up. A tidy-looking woman gets out. She doesn't say a word. She just steps to the rear of the van. And she pushes. Together, the three of us push. Nothing.

So -- out pops the driver. She pushes at the front, leaning on her open door. The driver says to the passenger, "We can do it. We are strong women!" We keep pushing. We push some more. And can you believe? We get that van moving. All four of us, working together.

But as soon as we're done, the driver and the passenger jump up into their seats. Ready to go. They never tell us thanks. They never even wave. Then I understand -- Never once, this whole time, did they ever turn around. They never knew we were helping them. They never knew there were two strong women at the rear. What I'm trying to say is...

I'm saying a person can never be sure who's back there.