February 17, 2011

I think this is my sixth, but certainly it is my fifth, visit to Savannah where I have stayed a significant length of time. The first visit was in the mid-eighties when I travelled through here with Jack and Marsha. We were on a tour talking about Inclusive Education. Jack drove the van and did some of the personal assistance. It’s funny how my circle questions these tours I do when it was my circle that got me started back then.

The second one was without Jack and Marsha. I was travelling with Marie Matthews, and I believe there was another assistant then, but I don’t remember who it was. I distinctly do remember that Tom Kohler was my main host back then in 1986 or ‘87. I also remember that it was around the time of St. Patrick’s Day because Marie and I participated fully in the festivities. (Savannah has the world’s largest St. Patrick’s Day parade outside of Ireland.) I kept the green wig for many, many years!

Other trips fade into the background excepting for the one that brought me to Tybee Island and Imlay House (where Mike and I are now). That was 2008. Gloria, Franziska and Jean came with me, and a personal assistant named Paula who turned out to be an absolute failure as a supporter. This is how I came to meet Lara. Gloria and Franziska remember this trip very differently from me, but no matter. It was the birth of the idea that I would go on the World Peace through Inclusion Tour. It’s not that I planned the tour then but somewhere in my understanding I realized how much I needed to come south to sort things out. I met the pelicans, I encountered the unconscious attachment to slavery and I realized that this was a place where I could be reflected enough to find myself – like seeing myself in a mirror.

I also remember that trip as being one where I was full of anxiety, as were Gloria, Jean and Lara. The World Peace through Inclusion Tour was also a time when my companions and I were frequently emotionally upset. Now that I have passed through the beginning of the Third Cycle and I am back in Savannah, I realize that anxiety goes along with coming here. I am sure there are many factors. My assistants get homesick. Moving from one space to another, including packing up and shifting all of my gear, is another great source of disruption. The concern that there will be enough money has legitimacy. The background “worry” that my attendant care money will get suspended is there. However, these things are typical of any trip that I have taken. Only Savannah brings out this somewhat higher level of anxiety!

Perhaps it is because of the mirror! Somehow I find myself intensely drawn into the images of slavery. They are everywhere. There is a print on my bedroom wall of a 19th century garden – a vision of elegance that includes a pale white woman in a white dress with a white parasol. It is a perfect counterpoint to the elegance of Savannah and is reminiscent of our modern idea of the old plantation. My point is that such gardens and the plantations they were part of can only and could only have been sustained by free or nearly free labour. In spite of this the labourers remain largely invisible.

It reminds me of one of my very first trips to Georgia. We were participating in a conference in a large and elegant hotel. It was my first encounter with peach daiquiris. A black woman was sweeping in the middle of the lobby. Dozens of people – white people – walked around her and never saw her.

During the World Peace through Inclusion Tour I was made aware that slavery is alive and well in the United States – I am sure elsewhere as well. The essence of slavery is the buying and selling of humans. It apparently has never been made illegal to purchase a human being. Since it has become socially unacceptable, or at least politically incorrect, to speak of slavery or to acknowledge its presence, the means of buying and selling have become hidden. For example, the police will round up idle men and when they appear in court to be convicted of loitering, they will be sentenced to work for a major employer of the local area who has been working with the police to develop his labour pool. As “criminals” the men do not need to be paid more than a pittance. Most of the money that changes hands, if any, goes between the employer and the police.

Of course, it is not hard to understand why so many men are idle. It is not hard to create a recession and end jobs in the kind of capitalist economy that pervades our society.

As I become more conversant with the means of creating slavery I have been constantly struck by the commonality of how we create disability. These mechanisms are less hidden in the southern states as well. Labelled individuals are bought and sold between nursing homes and institutions on a regular basis. Tom Kohler, John O’Brien and other Georgian activists have told many stories of people they know personally who started in the south and were shipped from state to state at the convenience of the “service system”.

When I came to Savannah last I was engaged in consulting with some citizen advocates and friends of a man in his twenties who was starved to death in a nursing home on Tybee Island. They suspect that this happened because when you reach the age of twenty-one in Georgia the state will no longer pay for your “care”. This man’s only known relative was unwilling or unable to pick up the tab, and consequently he was put in a back room and left to die.

The friends and advocates were asking themselves how it was that they could not have seen what was going on. It seems that even those who are very aware of this dynamic are still not always able to be conscious of its invisibility.

So here I am struggling to make something visible that scares me deeply. No wonder I am anxious as are those around me. No doubt some wish I would just go away.

February 14, 2011

Mike, Chris and I are in a grubby motel just outside of Knoxville. I have just finished being on the teleconference course called Making a Lasting Impact on Discourses. We’ve been eating southern BBQ and enjoying it immensely. The needle under the bed, the blood on the box frame and the punch hole in the door are perhaps not so intriguing!

Today we had lunch with Peter Block. I realize that it has been a good six years since I met him. I consider him a good friend and patron. And today I also realized that it was time for me to buy lunch! I also gave him a pack of Laser Eagle cards as a Valentine’s Day gift.

Peter Block is very much part of my “bigger conversations” friends. We quickly were talking about empires and the economy and making the invisible visible and seeing the abundance that is right in front of us, and connecting all of that to the Bible and world news and… etc. I’m pretty sure that Chris and Mike were pretty deep into the conversation as well. We recorded it on Mike’s iPhone and I intend to put excerpts of it into this blog now and then.

It was a gruelling task yesterday to obtain a cell phone that had a headset (Bluetooth!) that Mike and I can use throughout the trip as it has a Savannah number. Neither one of us can afford the horrendous cost of roaming charges on our regular cell numbers. I’m glad that we persevered through the annoyance because the wifi in the motel failed me and I wasn’t able to get onto my teleconference through Skype. I’m so glad that I had the phone as a back up! By the way our number is 912-713-5739.

The topic of tonight’s teleconference was “resignation”, which in Landmark terms means the hopeless feeling. The upshot was to have us look at that resignation comes from feeling like you are one small person against a big world. In this model of oneself it is impossible to believe that you (I) have the power to impact a worldwide culture – in my case the cultures of exclusion and war.

We were encouraged to play with other models of ourselves. I came up with that I am a mouthpiece of a conversation that is pressing to be heard – the conversation of Inclusion and peace. Please, if I forget as I’m sure I will, and start feeling small and alone, remind me that this is a way of looking at myself that I inherited when I was little.

We are less than a day away from Savannah. If it wasn’t for my teleconference and for needing to drop Chris in Atlanta tomorrow, we probably would have pressed on and made Savannah by tonight. Actually I prefer it this way as it’s easy to get lost in Savannah at night and it will be a great pleasure to have Mike see it’s elegance for the first time in broad daylight.

Peter Block made a clear point that I should thank the people of Savannah for making me aware of how slavery and disability are two parts of the same economic conversation – turning people into commodities instead of persons with rights and gifts. I appreciate that he put it this way – in terms of gratitude and appreciation. This will help me greatly when I am speaking to people. I’m expecting to give four presentations while I am here.

Beyond that, the pelicans and the painting, not to mention the church suppers and other opportunities for good southern food are very much on my mind. And then there are the many, many people that I’m eager to reconnect with. The first of those will be Lara, the beautiful young woman who is going to be Mike’s sidekick for this leg of the trip.

I am so happy to be on an adventure again. Yes, I am tired and my back hurts sometimes. Just the same, it is like I am being recharged. Now and then “the mouthpiece” must find new words and new perspectives. Being on the road has always given me opportunities for just that kind of reframing and waking up. I love where I live and at the same time I so very much need to be moving about in the world. This is who I am!