Compact Action: Feet Along the Path

I saw signs and portents all along the path from California. My thinking has been so changed by The Compact and my growing political awareness that almost every scene along the way holds a warning or lesson.

In California, we crossed ridge lines of wind turbines, now a decade old. You know, the kind of power we are told "isn't ready yet" by those with a stake in the status quo.

In Arizona, we saw the Homolovi ruins. An Anasazi people, the dwellers at Homolovi thought they had it all figured out, then their climate changed. Now their cities lie in dust.

A free limo whisked us from our hotel to the Big Texan Steak Ranch in Amarillo, where we turned down the challenge of eating a 72 oz. steak in an hour. If the cult of over-consumption had holy places, this would be one.

Springfield felt frozen in time. The idea that the climate may be changing, oil may be running out, or what our culture of over consumption costs in terms of lives and pollution abroad simply doesn't occur to most of them. The faith in their leaders, mostly Republican, is absolute. The idea that corporations might not be in their best interest is mostly unheard of.

When I placed my feet along the path toward a political awareness of these issues, I found there was no turning back. We made a similar commitment in my family joined the Compact and when we came here.

How do you find allies? How do you change minds? How do you build awareness about so many issues from the erosion of our democracy to the power consolidation behind the politicians?

In two weeks, we'll look at a few of these new local allies and how to find them.

Compact Action: Red State Blues

I thought leaving California would mean leaving behind the overwhelming arrogance of place that spawned comments like "fly-over state" and horrified looks when I said I came from Tennessee. What I've discovered in Springfield, MO is an equal arrogance steeped in ignorance.

I expected to reign in my political voice a bit. I expected to go along to get along to some extent. What I didn't expect was the outspoken, fundamental belief in the superiority of racism, religion and over consumption.

The dental hygienist who congratulated me for getting out of California because it was "swarming with mexicans" comes to mind. So does the nurse who said I was "too stupid to save money" because I chose not to shop at WalMart. Yesterday, a fellow congratulated me for "getting out of that godless place" when I told him of my recent move. I thought he was joking. He wasn't.

It has been simply stunning. I've held my tongue to some degree. I usually lead by example, or try to anyhow. How do you argue with such forthright ignorance? I'll put the question to you, dear readers, for suggestions.

I've also found that such ignorant and bigoted statements are in the overwhelming minority here. Currently, in my unofficial and unscientific tabulation of right-wing vs. left-wing bumper stickers, lefties are ahead 31 to 22. There are a lot fewer "W" stickers here than when I visited three years ago.

Lefties here are quiet though. When I begin to discuss the current Attorney General, or the Iraq war, I find agreement coupled with a tentative look over the shoulder. When you are afraid to speak, there is a problem.

And finally, two organizations of would-be allies have gone under. The Radish, a local infoshop, and the Springfield Sudbury School both closed their doors in March. Two tiny blue lights went dark.

It feels something like the second installment of a movie trilogy, like Star Wars or Lord of the Rings, where everything comes crashing down and allies are thin on the ground. But hey, we are just setting things up for a triumphant final act.

I'm beginning to organize and I'm finding allies. Next week we'll talk about a few of those and how they are helping me adapt my California ways to the Show Me state. I'll find a niche here someplace between arrogance and ignorance and make my stand.

Compact Action: An Orgy of Waste

The move was turning into an orgy of waste. With too much stuff and too little space, the driveway began to fill with a mountain of our discarded things. As a member of The Compact , a group dedicated to voluntary simplicity and conservation, this was a mortal sin for me. It was also an ill omen.

We were moving to Missouri from California. If our personal stand against consumption was strange here in the San Francisco Bay, it was going to be downright alien in the Ozarks.

I began working the phones, and pretty soon friends and acquaintances began to arrive and the pile began to shrink. I swapped a few things for stuff we needed anyhow, like bungee cords, and I extracted a promise from neighbors to put the rest up on Craigslist for free.

We left town a little late, but with a clean conscience that our discards were destined for reuse not refuse.

That is the sort of everyday stand our family takes against this consumer culture. We hope that if enough people take small actions, we'll call them compact actions, the sum will be greater than the parts.

Over 2007, we'll be taking it to the heartland. In the reddest corner of Missouri, we'll see if it is possible to transplant or left-coast, blue-state ideas to a land of subdivisions and Walmarts.

Cynthia has invited us to share the story with you. We'll look at how our family takes things beyond recycling, what works, and what doesn't in our new home. Feel free to share your comments and experiences with me at sanfordclark@sbcglobal.net.