Namaste... Please Vote

Fall Was Here

This is what the yoga instructor said at the end of class the other day, right after we had all declared "Ohhhhmmmmmm" together and bowed with our hands over our hearts.  She is from somewhere else - she has an accent that I can't place on my own, I'd have to ask her.  I'd guess somewhere in Europe - maybe Germany?  Or Eastern Europe?  I believe she used to be a ballerina, which is why she's such a great yoga instructor.  I hadn't been to a yoga class since January, and knew the last one of the 5-pack I bought was about to expire, so I stretched for the first time in awhile (and am still sore).  I try to catch her classes because they're usually slightly challenging, but not too much.  Everyone smiled and laughed to themselves as she hesitantly added the part about voting at the tail-end of her namaste.

In the book I'm reading, Songs Without Words by Ann Packer, one of the characters actually mentions that "Namaste" means "my soul acknowledges your soul."  This seems to apply to voting, particularly nowadays when so much rage is being stirred up towards immigrants.  I opened up the news again, to read about the president's plans to send thousands of troops to our border and stop immigrants from coming into this country.  I don't watch him very often, but in the clips I've heard or seen, he always makes sure to mention that these people are "animals" or "not the nicest people" or something of that sort - drug dealers, criminals, etc.

So this is where my maternity leave money is going - to support thousands of troops to stop weaponless, desperate people who seem to have no other choice than walk hundreds of miles away from their conflict?

What always floors me, is that our president is married to an immigrant.

Awhile ago, I listened to a RadioLab trilogy series about the US border.  One of my takeaways from it was that no matter what gets put on the border, people will find a way to get here.  If there's a bigger wall, then they will take boats.  And what about airports?  My question is - why do people want to come here anymore?  If I knew that my children could be taken from me at the border of Canada, and that some troops were waiting for me, I would steer clear.  But maybe things are just that bad where these people are coming from - they must be.

I'm not sure that Americans can connect with the feeling of having to physically leave their home - to wake up one morning and start walking.  I can't imagine what that must be like.  Over here, they talk about Cascadia - when the earthquake scheduled to sever San Francisco causes all the volcanos connected with it to explode and tsunamis to take out Seattle and the Oregon Coast.  I wonder if that would be the time, that people would just start walking to escape the danger that is coming.  Terrifying, right?

But my bigger question is, why are we de-humanizing immigrants?  If America really wants to crack down on drugs, have police raid the private schools, wall street, and fraternities.  If the government wants some of their money back - stop corporations from finding loopholes to not pay thousands, probably millions, of tax dollars.  Maybe hold the people on wall street who sunk our economy accountable.  Why do we not think to "go after" the wealthy?  That is where the real money is, the expensive drugs, and the people who support the drug industry - why are we picking on the people who can't even afford a car or plane ticket to get their family to safety?

The de-humanization is the scariest part.  We see things like genocide in Rwanda and think, how can that happen?  When I was there, I heard about how neighbors were physically killing their neighbors.  The radio station called a certain tribe "cockroaches" and would just say it over and over again on the airwaves.  We think, how can a country get to that point?  My grandfather always said the Germans were smart people.  But isn't that the rhetoric that we're hearing now?  Immigrants constantly de-humanized by our commander in chief and millions of tax dollars put towards stopping their "invasion"?  He's already called them animals - why not get more specific and say cockroaches?

Anyway, I personally love people from other countries - they're in my family and they are my family.  They're my Mom, my friends, and some of the coolest, smartest, and best people I know.  President Trump likes them so much that he married one.

My soul acknowledges your soul.  Namaste.

(Please Vote)

Can't Believe These Leaves Are Already Gone

I like [the United States of] America.

From my float down the Deschutes River

Identity is often thought of as this fixed sort of thing and I also find that my identity shifts depending on location.  Being on the West Coast, I cling to traits of an East Coaster - relishing the word "wicked" and venting about the humidity and unfriendly, abrupt, and grumpy people over there.  When in Scotland, I become an American - searching for tasty beer, using "awesome", and defending aspects of America's worldview and culture to people.  When in developing countries, I become a Westerner - mindful of individualism, efficiency, and competition.  When on the East Coast, I either become a New Englander in New Jersey or a Jersey-er in New England or a Northerner in the South. 

Being an American boils down to these instances at times (for me): 

I ask for coffee "to go" when abroad and walk with it in hand, down the street - and notice that I am the only person on the street doing this - and I feel, for some strange reason, satisfied. 

I pass through Times Square and feel this energy in the air - this vibe that I attribute to an "immigrant energy" or "anything is possible" still alive from all the people who first entered through there, and still do.  As I look around the streets, I can't get over the incredibly diverse amount of people walking alongside yellow taxis and beneath hovering skyscrapers.  

On the red dirt road of Uganda, I listen to my big white original Ipod while walking to my homestay.  I can see tall shadows in the dirt of a couple boys following behind me.  I stop and let them listen and they are beside themselves - squealing and laughing until they run away. 

I buy a Vitamin Water and a pack of gum.  I don't know what exactly is in a Vitamin Water but revel in the creative description on the label and the idea that they're created for different moods and personalities.  I chew this gum that I know will last longer than any other international kind. 

***

I'd like to say I feel proud to be an American (and I do), but at the same time, I didn't do anything to become it.  I feel grateful to have grown up here.  Despite traveling other places - and really loving life there, too - there's something about coming home.  I like my life here and I also struggle with it sometimes - the consumerism, white noise, stale air of shopping centers, not to mention a variety of other "issues".  I get angry with Americans and I love them, too.  When I see a person dressed and painted with red, white, and blue, waving that American flag and drinking a beer, I think, "Yep - I get that!"  

Cheers to this big ole mess of a crazy country.