feminism + human rights.

Because people rule.

CODEPINK. Collecting Knitted Squares For Mother’s Day.

| Betsy

CAMPAIGN: CODEPINK is collecting knitted squares for a cozy (see photo above) for the White House fence for Mother’s Day as a protest against war. All war.

WHAT TO MAKE: The squares need to be 4″x4″ and tightly knit, in the stitch of your choice. The donations need to be received by May 4th, as the U.S. observance of Mother’s Day is May 10th this year. If you’re a knitter, then you know that your average swatch takes little time, and so will these squares!

WHO TO CONTACT: If you plan to make squares, please email Janna at CODEPINK with the number of squares you plan to make and in what colors.

WHERE TO SEND: Once completed, the squares can be sent to:
CODEPINK House
712 5th Street NE
Washington, D.C.
20002

WHY TO SEND: Because war effects everyone. Even if you or your family haven’t been effected personally, someone you know has a brother, sister, aunt, uncle, husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend, mother, father, son, daughter, grandfather, grandmother, cousin or best friend who has been effected by war, either directly or indirectly. I come from a military family. I am an ardent supporter of our soldiers and the sacrifices they make for their jobs. I am not, however, always a supporter of our foreign policy. In the future, I’d like nothing more than to raise my children in a world without war. No one, anywhere, should have to make those choices that are sometimes made in conflict. For a list of current ongoing conflicts and the estimated numbers of casualities, see here.

That’s a lot of chairs left empty at the dinner table and thousands fewer hands to hold. Even if you don’t make squares, consider spending some time this Mother’s Day doing something to make this world a little nicer and a little kinder because we need all the help we can get. In honoring the kinder maternal sides of this world, you are also honoring all Mothers, who all bring their children into the world with the greatest love, the fiercest protection, and more hope than they ever thought possible.

Perhaps with enough little kindnesses, we can slowly begin to reduce the numbers of those effected by war by bringing about a few more smiles and discussions, leading to more open communication and if we’re lucky, a little less strife. We can honor all Mothers throughout the world by perpetuating tiny acts of gratitude and kindness that echo those of every Mother. Their dreams, strong wills and sacrifices made worldwide in the name of creating love, hope and peace in the lives of their children are examples of limitless love and open hearts that we all can learn from, remember and pass on.

P.S. I’ve emailed Janna (at the email address linked above) and will be donating 4 pink squares and 4 green.

“To Not Speak, Is to Fail the Possibility of Humanity.”

| Betsy

Sometimes when I go to the library I feel like I’m dowsing for water. I wander and roam and pick up this book and that book, until something feels right and truly resonates. My most recent library trip led me to James Orbinski’s An Imperfect Offering: Humanitarian Action in the 21st Century. Orbinski worked for Medecins Sans Frontieres (MSF) for many years, and then later founded Digitas International, an organization that helps people with HIV/AIDS in areas where it runs rampant have access to affordable medication.

I finished the book late last night, and was touched by the way Orbinski included stories of the people he met along the way in places like Rwanda, Zaire and Sudan. It’s definitely worth a look if you’re interested in the politics of humanitarianism and action. At times it’s heartbreaking, empowering and inspiring, but there was one point where I realized why I had been “led” to this book in the library that day. It’s the basic tenet of craftivism on page 290, and includes a quote by Jose Antonio Bastos, who worked with MSF to aid the Rwandan refugees in South Kivu, Zaire escaping genocide in 1994:

“Contrary to what some poets say, all is not fair in love and war,” Jose said. “Even if it is impossible to help the refugees, we must keep trying, and find the truth of what is happening, and we must speak. Sometimes speaking is the only action that is possible. To not speak, is to fail the possibility of humanity. No, all is not fair in love and war,” he repeated. “If we are to remember or even discover what love really is, what peace really is, if there is to be real hope for any of us, we need to be reminded of this.”

When we make crafts that speak to our frustrations, hurts, anger, we are continuing the conversation that our world is not a just one, but one full of hope nonetheless. Your hands give you the freedom to speak even when you don’t think your voice will carry. Just remember that they are important, necessary and truthful as we may live in a sometimes unfair world, but a world where our actions help others speak up and gather the courage to fight as well. Your voice will carry, whether it comes from your mouth or your hands, as it all comes from the heart.

Foreign. (Film, Immigration and Old Familiars.)

| Betsy

In 1985, I got 3rd place in a school art contest with the theme “Safety.” It was a painting of a policeman stopping traffic, and to this day, I think it only won 3rd place because it marginally had something to do with safety and wasn’t off-topic. Last Sunday, twenty-four years later, I picked up a paint brush again. Although it’s not for a contest and has little to do with safety, I’m pretty happy with the preliminary results.

We watched The Visitor as I tried to retain the bounce of the brush on the canvas and stay in the lines I had drawn- while also paying attention. Although I’m not sure if it was the painting or the film, somewhere along the line I started tearing up. I’m not really sure which was the culprit, and think perhaps it was a little bit of both. The film is about the unlikely friendship that arises from an equally unlikely introduction and deals with issues of belonging, home, identity and immigration.

As I’ve done work in the past with refugees, my heart went out to the people everywhere who are in those back rooms in detention centers or airports or live in fear of being denied asylum or what have you. And since I hadn’t painted for so many years, I also felt that rush of release you get when you tackle something new and unfamiliar, that unbridled freedom of seeing where your hands may take you is always an adventure. Although canvas, paints and brushes are benevolent things, there is still a sense of escaping your safety zone as you push toward new skills.

So as Richard Jenkins’ character learned to play the drums in “The Visitor,” I picked up a paintbrush (a little easier than playing the djembe). While his lesson was tied up in a messy storyline fraught with modern problems and frustrations, mine was unfolding quietly with a dog curled up against my side. The result? A pleasant and kind reminder in the liberation and joy of letting yourself go and learning something new.

Other lovely things of late:
*Savta Connection (a group urban knitting in Tel Aviv)
*Discovering the activist anthropology department at UT-Austin
*Interview with Syrian musician Kinan Azmeh (who speaks of those back rooms)
*Art Yarn’s Call to Action for handmade knitted or crocheted strips for an exhibit at Manchester Craft and Design

And as for me, I’m being kept busy:
*Preparing for a group show at The Scrap Exchange in Durham, Domestic Spaces (March 20-April 11)
*Excited about my first trip to Portland for the Handmade Nation West Coast premiere, April 2-6th! I will be on a panel called Craft Perspectives on Saturday, April 4th, which I’ll be posting more about later. For now, you can see more details <a href=”http://www.museumofcontemporarycraft.org/hmn/programs.html”>here</a>!

Flow.

| Betsy

I have this photo of Bikini Kill on my desktop right now.

It’s been a nice reminder back to the days of singing along to 7″s up in my room, when it seemed like music could really, honestly change the world.

Lately, as part of talking about the book, I’ve been mentioning more and more about what inspired me when I was younger. I didn’t realize it at the time, but when I discovered bands like Bikini Kill and record labels like Dischord and K Records, I was beginning to think independently of my peers, my family, the media. Not that I was necessarily disagreeing with them, just that I was beginning to form my own opinions and theories and ideas. I was beginning to understand that there were options and different routes to take and adventures to be had.

Tonight, I had an event at the lovely Quail Ridge Books and was reminded of all the energy and possibilities I felt were possible way back in those early days. It was a delightful experience with what psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi calls “flow” where the conversation and questions were organic and people were telling me about the most incredible fiber and creative work they have been doing.

It was a moment I couldn’t have ever imagined jumping around in my bedroom shouting along with Huggy Bear’s “Her Jazz,” undoubtedly my favorite song of that era. During those moments of discovering that it’s okay to question and dream and journey, I wondered if I would ever meet anyone else would feel the same way. I mean, I knew they were out there, I just didn’t know how to find them.

Somehow, I guess I got lucky, because all of these amazingly awesome smart, crafty and interesting people keep coming into and enriching my life for the past few years with their conversations, far flung knowledge, skills and ideosyncrasies. Each and every one of them makes me glad I kept singing loud and questioning and asking and dreaming and wondering all those days alone and didn’t stop, because now it’s not just me and my 7″s. I just never would have guessed I needed all those years of fighting and yelling and questioning and feeling alone in order to find them.

Speaking of lovely people, if you missed my interview with KPFK earlier this evening, you can find the podcast for the December 10 show here! There are 3 great interviews on before me, and then I’m on around 40 minutes in! Thanks so much, Feminist Magazine!