The Loneliness in Communcation

This summer I was plagued by strangers asking for friendship, across different social media platforms.

I'm a sympathetic person and I can get caught up with a stranger if I feel he or she needs the attention. 

I had to take a step back. It was partly because I have a lot on my plate that I have chosen to do: church, volunteering, a community association, teacher union things, a writing project,  on top of the usual: home, garden, family.

It was also because it was a little awkward. It was mostly men, middle aged or older, who were seeking friendship. A friendship? or a "friendship"? I'm married. So, erm, no.

How did Facebook, Wattpad, Instagram become hunting grounds for relationships? What has this world come to? 

Of course, with the current social climate, racism, and the pandemic, worries like these are extremely minor in the grand scheme of things. But it still makes me wonder.

Why can't people find friends from going out with their regular friends? Oh, wait. That's right. We were cloistered as a world-wide community for about six months now. Most of us stayed away from our usual normal circles. Ah, I see.

Also, I've heard that people can be busy. That's what I have read is the reason that some use those relationship apps which are supposed to save their users time by automatically matching them up with potential mates.  

If you are that busy, and you know you want a friend, maybe you need to be... I don't know... less busy? Go to fewer meetings? Ask for time off? Leave work on time, one day a week, and go to an online card game group? 

Yet still. Why would anyone think another person would want to randomly chat with you, outside of any connection - you have no connection with them, no friends in common, no reading in common, no article in common - and they just want to have a talk?

It made me a little sad. Human beings need to connect with each other. We are social animals and as such, we seek our herds, our tribes, and we want to know we are valued, appreciated, and needed in this world. It keeps us sane. The ones who don't have those connections are potentially in danger of depression or worse. That's why I sometimes lose out to my feelings of sympathy.

So, I decided to close up my social media doors. I thought, as a classroom teacher, I need to model safe internet practices for my students as well as for myself. The first app I closed up was my teacher instagram. I turned it from public to private.  Originally, I kept it public because I had imagined naively that students 'everywhere' would be inspired by my posts and students from ages ago would reconnect with me and let me know how successful they are - or at least happy.

When I thought about it, I didn't want strangers commenting on my posts, because those comments could connect the stranger with one of my students. Nope.  On that thought, I made that account private.

I changed my Facebook settings that people could only connect with me if they had a connection with one of my existing friends. I posted about that experience and encouraged others to check their "friends" settings. A stranger, whose own friendship request originally inspired me to figure out the solution to that glitch, "liked" that post. It was a little humorous.

I had a few dozen messages on Wattpad over the past few years. I never knew because I was inactive on Wattpad. I started up again for various reasons. I assumed the message were all 'bots. However, I did chat with one, as a sort of test for 'bot-ness, and it appeared to be a real human. This person wanted to chat off Wattpad, but, er. No.

I stopped notifications from Wattpad. It was a little impolite, I think, to just basically disappear from that person, but, hm. The internet society is an odd one.

Now, that I am writing about this, I need to go back and change my contact information, too. 

I wish everyone will have or has a good friend or two; someone with whom he or she can connect with, laugh with, share ideas with, and break bread with.  

I just can't be that person for everyone in the world. 

Racism Is Killing the Planet

The ideology of white supremacy leads the way toward disposable people and a disposable natural world

[Note: This article was published originally on the Sierra Club's website. I do not take credit for it - though I wish I could! - and thought the information was so breathtakingly enlightening, it should be shared as often as possible. - DA ]

BY HOP HOPKINS | JUN 8 2020

Last week, my family and I attended an interfaith rally in Los Angeles in defense of Black life. We performed a group ritual in which we made noise for nine minutes to mark the last moments of George Floyd’s life. My wife, my oldest daughter, and I played African drums to mark those nine minutes with the rhythm of a beating heart. Da-dum, da-dum, da-dum, over and over again. 

While we drummed, I realized how difficult it is to keep up any physical activity for nine minutes straight. Most of us can’t even sit completely still on our butts for nine minutes; if you’ve ever meditated, you understand why they refer to sitting as practice. 

As I struggled to maintain my posture and keep up the rhythm, I thought about the level of commitment it takes to hold someone down for nine minutes straight. The realization horrified me. The cop who has been charged with murdering George Floyd had to have been deeply committed to taking his life. The police officer had so many chances to let up the pressure, to let George live. Yet the officer made the choice not to. 

To spend nine minutes taking the life-breath from another person: That is what white supremacy does to white people. That is what white supremacy does to the rest of us too. White supremacy robs each of us of our humanity. It causes white people to view Black people as less than human. Every one of those cops watching George die was convinced that the man pinned to the ground was less than human, was in some way disposable. 

Otherwise, how could they hold him down for nine whole minutes? How could they bring themselves to do it? 

You can’t have climate change without sacrifice zones, and you can’t have sacrifice zones without disposable people, and you can't have disposable people without racism.

During the street protests and marches of the past two weeks, many people carried signs that read “Racism Is Killing Us.” It’s no exaggeration to say that racism and white supremacy harm all of us, because in addition to robbing us of our humanity, racism is also killing the planet we all share.

An idea—a long-overdue realization—is growing in the environmental movement. It goes something like this: “We’ll never stop climate change without ending white supremacy.” This argument has entered the outdoor recreation and conservation space thanks to the leadership of Black, Indigenous, and other people of color in the climate justice movement. The idea has taken on new force as folks in the mainstream environmental movement do our best to show up for George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Tony McDade, and all the Black people still living and subject to police violence.

I know that a lot of people are struggling with the thought that addressing the environmental crises must involve dismantling white supremacy. At Sierra Club meetings, some people hear me say something like that and think, “Damn, fighting climate change wasn’t hard enough already? Now we have to end racism and white supremacy too? Seriously, man?”

I get that feeling of being overwhelmed. It’s a lot to carry. It’s a lot to hold. We all have enough to do without feeling like we’re taking on even more.

But I want to share another lens from which we can view this moment. I really believe in my heart of hearts—after a lifetime of thinking and talking about these issues—that we will never survive the climate crisis without ending white supremacy. 

Here’s why: You can’t have climate change without sacrifice zones, and you can’t have sacrifice zones without disposable people, and you can't have disposable people without racism. 

...(continue reading here.)

#sierraclub #hophopkins

Perfectly Made as You Are

Perfectly made as you are
Do not hide your colors
They are a flag for the fallen
A beacon for the beaten
A signal for the saddened
Uplifting those who are weighted
With the grief of living
Do not hide

Fears quietly allayed due to who you are
There is no need to shout
A voice for the silent
A song for the suppressed
A scream for the downtrodden
Calling up those who are plaited
With the strife of living
Do not shout

In the heat you are the shade, the cold star
Do not dash your cares
A trade for the tormented
A tirade for the unrelented
You are a plaything for the restless
Entertaining spirits whose human breath is plaited
With the life of living
Do not dash

In all things:
Do not hide
Do not shout
Do not dash
Your existence enables mine
Though you may think little of your import
Because your value I do not exhort
Trust: it's in the quiet, the murk
the slurry of creation
Comfort is thine - and mine

The Uncertain Gift

Crying is an uncertain gift

you are adrift

awash, if you will, 

in an emotional swill

When words fail,

enter a dark wale

spilling over time

truth in silver lines

Mocked as weak

labeled for the meek

Don't chide the sublime

God provided our kind

It's no calamity

for humanity

Let go

of the lie you've been sold

The deception of thought

the mind has wrought

can create so-called truth

yet the heart always speaks true

via Instagram

via Instagram

Why aren't some children more resilient?

I suppose I can only speak for myself and my own children.

I've not a done a scientific study on this topic.

I only have observations.

Children who seem to "bounce back" from difficulty often seem to be the happier children.  The happy kids are likely those kids whose parents or guardians give them doses of love and care each day.

The children who seem to fall apart at a challenge often seem to be the children easily wounded by criticism. They may have a parent figure or leader at home who chastises them for every mistake, in the hopes of encouraging them to do better.

I think the adults who admonish, ridicule or express exasperation frequently are not leading or teaching their children how to survive disappointments. I believe that is their intent to do. I think they may have good intentions of "showing kids how to be tough".

"Tough" kids, resilient kids appear to be those who know that if they fall, someone will be there to dust them off.

I am not equating "helicopter parent" with this idea. That's a whole different thing. It's the parent or guardian who picks up the fallen, band-aids the cuts, kisses the bruise, laughs at the mistake, and says, "Oh, well. Next time." That's not a helicopter. That's a family. That's a support system. That's the belief that those who have fallen down can get up again.

"Next time" is so important. It tells children that this mistake was only a moment. It's not forever. There's another chance. There's another opportunity coming.

So, you want your kid to be "tough"? To be resilient? I think you should love them deeply, often and publicly. Ignore those "mature" adults who balk at your actions and call you a "helicopter" parent, say that you are "babying" them.  I think they may not have had enough love in their own childhood to understand that children need love and support to grow up into loving and supporting people.

Look at the animals at the local shelter. Look at the fiercely angry or cowering animals.
They were thrown out, abandoned in times of difficulty, left without a support system.

Did that experience toughen them? Did they become more "resilient"? No. They became angry, suspicious or weak and fearful. Some may even have become dangerous. This is very similar to human beings. Some of those wounded pets still seek attention, affection. This is also similar to human beings.

We had a feral cat who hissed at us and threatened our pets. My husband began feeding it. Over time, the hissing reduced. Then it began to try to rub against our legs in a typical cat-love way. It had received attention. It had received care, food. It became less angry and less threatening. This, too, is similar to humans.

Resiliency is born in the confidence that misery is temporary and joy is always within reach. That is something which is taught; it is not innate.

You can't eat an IPhone

Copyright 2017 Austin Photography

Living on an island, you get a close-up view of how urban sprawl can affect the availability of good farmland. There needs to a balance. On a related note, there is a high need for farmers. In our tech-driven world, we are minimizing or forgetting about the value and honor that farmers deserve. They raise, grow and develop food for us. You can't eat an iPhone.

Watt? Wattpad

IMAGE: By Wattpad Technology Inc. [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

A few years ago a student of mine introduced me to Wattpad, a reading/writing/share site. I joined but didn't do much with it. Now that I am working on my second fiction book, I thought, why not share the first one on Wattpad?

It helps to see that highly respected authors like Margaret Atwood are using Wattpad for that same purpose.

Also, this would be an easy way to share the first book with some of my students, so that they won't have to buy it. It's not that it's not worth buying; it's just not every person has the money to do so.

I am a little worried that I'll get those nasty troll comments that sometimes happen on some websites. We'll see what happens.

Good Friday, Good Day

     I have been wondering a lot about my faith. I have it. I believe in God. I know there's a powerful presence in the universe, and I believe it is sentient.

   I am a little disappointed in myself, as  I sit here, on Good Friday, with no plans of attending church with my family. I would love to, but I get tired of the arguments. Teenagers. I should just go by myself, and when I do, I feel good that I am there, but I feel sad that I am alone. So to speak. "We are never alone". 

   It is not enough to pray or to believe. I have to be stronger, to be tougher about this. I hope one day, I am.

Kristie Wolfe builds underground home & sets rural WA hamlet

 I have a fascination with living sustainably, greener living, eco-conscious lifestyle, whatever you want to call it: I think it is so important to take care of the earth, and each other. 

Woman Builds Breathtaking Sustainable Dome Home

 Can you imagine building with just earth? 

My Beloved Leis

Plumeria with Purple flower (Ribbon Lei) designed by Tracy Harada 

The following is a section, taken from Na Mele O Hawai'i Nei, 101 Hawaiian Songs, collected by Samuel H. Elbert and Noelani Mahoe, published by the University of Hawaii, Copyright 1970.


This is a name song composed by Mary Kawena Pukui for her grandson, La'akea, shortly after his birth on November 8, 1949. The "many birds" are admiring people.


'Ohu'phu wale au iku'i leo
   
   onaona

[I wear my fragrant lei]
                               _
Ku'u lei oh;ohie o na kau a kau.

[My lei cherished in all seasons]
              _
Au mai na maka o ka nui manu

[The eyes of many birds behold]

I ku'uy wehi nani e lei mai
      nei

[worn forever as a lei]



Please forgive any errors, as this is 1) a transcription to Blogger, which does not have a supporting font for Hawaiian and 2) I am not fluent in Hawaiian. I copied the symbols such as the 'okina and the macron (__ above the letter) as best as I could. I also added the bold and the brackets. The layout is slightly different than what you find in the original publication.

Why did I do this post? I needed to test some posting services, and I thought, do something interesting. SO... yeah, I naturally ended up doing something more challenging than probably what it is worth. At least I got a chance to read some beautiful Hawaiian songs, and it reminded me that one day, one day I should as least try to learn more.

If you come from a heritage which has a language other than English, I think you should try to reconnect or explore it. I encourage you. 

I regret not having encouraged my children earlier than now. They are both in high school, and they are, to me, a little disconnected with their grandmother's, and my, culture. My daughter is at least thinking about taking up hula. She would be beautiful at it. I can see her, in my mind's eye.

For now, they are both, still, my special leis, which I wear in my heart.

You are Not Wrong to Be You

The Good Lion by Beryl Markham
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Truly beautiful, truly a miracle in picture books. It is the tale of "becoming" and "being". I read this aloud to my middle schoolers, and they loved it. It truly resonated with them, the idea of being considered wrong, but you are only being yourself.

I read the origin of the story, West with the Night, by Beryl Markham. She does write beautifully as well, but the lyrical, almost mystical flow of this picture book, I suspect, has to do something with the illustrator, Don Brown, or the editor, who is unnamed.

View all my reviews

Playing Cards with Death

There has been a lot of talk in my life lately, these last few months, about death, and Death.

My mother has talked about her funeral arrangements. My husband and I are wondering about our last wishes and how we should prepare a last will and testament. My uncle passed away this year. I know a few people, some close, some not, who are sitting with Death, or playing cards with Him, bluffing for a longer round.

I do not enjoy speaking about the afterlife. I think some people see it as an opportunity to paint a future, where all their disappointments and resentments in life are avenged by the sorrow and grief of those left behind.

I think it may be possible by talking about It, that we will have some power over Death's timetable. If you can speak Its Name, comfortably and easily, then perhaps you are exorcising any inner fears about It.

There is nothing I can do about Death. He comes when he wants; he takes what he needs, and he leaves when he is fulfilled.

I do not think of death as a Gift; I do not think of death as a Punishment; I do not think of death as something to fear. I do not think of Death, Sam, I am.

I believe I am not afraid of the afterlife or of death or even dying. I am a little concerned about any pain; if there is pain involved, it is worrisome.

I accept the finality and futility of worrying about death. Therefore, I'd rather focus on the possibilities and the multiple eternities we can create, in Life.

We Do Not Know When We Are Called

My Uncle Henry was laid to rest today, amid songs and stories of how he has affected the lives of so many. His children, my loving cousins, did an amazing job, coordinating with other family members, to send Uncle Henry to heaven in the most thoughtful, loving way, filled with joy and laughter.

In fact, at the interment, songs he loved, like "The Rhinestone Cowboy", were played, with some chuckles and tears.

Some of the stories that were shared were so hilarious at the services, that, although I had prepared a statement about my own love for Uncle Henry, I thought the somber tone of my words would draw away from the much appreciated joy being shared. Therefore, now that the services are over, I thought I would share them here, for my cousins and family members.

"Henry Polohau Kahula, Jr. was a great man, in stature and spirit. He was father to six, but a father to many more. Throughout his life, he was known to welcome extended family into his home, and they worked equally as hard as his own children, with housework, yard work, and felt equally as loved. His majestic voice with its throaty timbre was accompanied by his skilled playing on the guitar. He was passionate about his family and about his community. He sought to right the wrongs he witnessed, and as an educated man, he wrote many eloquent letters to the local paper, as well as running for office himself. Although he did not win a seat, he won the hearts of many, and made his family proud. He brought music, cheer and life to his family and he would have wanted to have been remembered as a man of song, and a man of hope. "

Thank you, Uncle Henry, for reminding us of what true Aloha is about. We love you. Always.

Hug your loved ones often. As Uncle Henry would say, "Everyone is on the list. We just don't know when we will be called."

Kauai

Enjoy every day you're alive. When you are dead, it won't matter.

So, Do Not Fear

Zuma Beach, California, 2013

Waiting

Awaiting the print version of my book. This is a test of patience. There is so much more going on in life that is far more important, but this little book is my secret pleasure. I will be so thankful when this editing process is over.