The Furious Spinner

You may (or may not) have been wondering where I've been. Like many of you, I was stunned by the outcome of the election—and even more stunned by what has been happening since. Although I thought it would be bad, it is worse than I imagined. When it looks like Tom DeLay is about to be called a crook, the Republicans change the ethics rules, so now Tom DeLay is officially "ethical." The Endangered Species Act is under attack, the new budget has so many bad things in it that I can't list them all here (one more nail in the Roe v. Wade coffin), most of our civil liberties are continuing to be whittled away, and we all know that things in Iraq ain't going well. As far as I can tell the Democrats continue to roll over or make nice while the Republicans have not stood up and said, "Wait a minute" about anything of importance. But truth to tell, I've tuned out for a bit. I've got personal stuff going on (my mother is having open heart surgery this week), plus other junk. I continue to write letters and make phone calls when any of the organizations I trust ask me. But I don't think anyone is listening. On the chance someone is I keep doing it. I'm not a big fan of knocking my head up against a wall. I want to expend my energy on actions which work. To that end, I'm concentrating on local issues. That's where the conservatives got their foothold; that's where we need to step on some feet, say excuse me, and make a place for ourselves.

I'm attempting to work with the schools in my area on the pesticide issue again. I spent last week putting together a letter and the information needed to make a presentation to the superintendent and school board. The super wants to talk to us before it goes to the school board. I've been down this road before: the super pretends he's listening, promises to do something, then does NOTHING. Many of these people in power have learned the art of shining people on. I'm so shiny, I'm a mirror. But we'll try to talk with this new super and see what he'll actually do.

It's also that time of year when people are getting cold. We live in an economically depressed area with high unemployment and poverty rates. Our peace group has been working with Native groups in the area to see what the tribes need. We've been careful not to act (or become) patronizing white people riding in to save the red people. It just happens that in our community some of the people who are most at risk are the First People. Anyway, I'm trying to help out in getting them some of the supplies they need for the winter. The poverty levels on the rez are at third world rates. As a nation it seems we should do something to alleviate this suffering. For us, what we've tried to do (via one person in particular in the peace group) is ask, "What can we do?"

None of this working locally (or any activism) is perfect. Life isn't perfect. (I’m so profound.) When you work with the same people over and over, you know what their foibles are, you know what will irritate you after a while—and you try not to take it personally or let it stop you from doing the work. (Yes, YOU!) In every project I've worked on, someone will invariably say it was their idea or I'll tell them something, they won't pay any attention to what I've said and later someone else will say the same thing and this time they'll hear it and say to me, "Did you know...." I usually get off the phone (or come home) and scream, then keep on going—as long as it's all innocent. If someone is terrorizing the group or deliberately stealing ideas, I talk to them about it. You can't do peace and justice work while allowing injustice and war in your own organization. Well, I won't.

So that's what I've been up to. No writing. I've even been considering giving up writing. I'm tired of the rejection. I know other writers get irritated with me when I get discouraged—but most of the time, these are successful writers, i.e., they're making a living. Or they are writers who write for themselves. I don't write for myself. I don't think I ever have. I have always written for an audience. Even my diaries when I was a kid: I knew my mother would read them. About a month ago, my agent sent me a letter saying how encouraging all the rejections letters were regarding one of my books. Mario said, "Well, that's encouraging." I said, "I've been doing this too long to be encouraged by encouragement." Then this week I got a rejection on a story. I've been sending stories to this editor for 25 years. This editor has never bought anything from me. I thought, "Isn't that the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?" So I won't be sending anything more to that editor. It’s just a waste of my time, effort, and postage.

Maybe thinking of quitting is just depression eating away at my creativity. Who knows. We'll see.

I have been spending a lot of time with Mario and the birds. And that has been lovely. I'll tell you about that later.

I hope you have all been well.

Don't forget to dance.

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