Create Hats

Created by Daisuke Yamamoto

I'm always full of ideas, but rather consistently fall down in the execution of them; oh most of the time too lazy to try. Creativity requires both imagination and perspiration. Often it seems some people are willing to exert the effort, but worry too much about getting the ideas straight; rather the opposite to my temperament. Either way we all forget too often what fun it is to make things creatively. This beautiful Youtube video and the others of RinpaEshidan capture some of the joy in creating: mashing up ideas and something physical.

Recently I joined Omidyar.net. It's a wiki and platform for people to come together to do something good. It is a welcoming community, but the space is a bit difficult to navigate around. In late October an opportunity for nine $5000 grants was announced. Teams collaborated to create proposals in funding areas. The team I followed most closely was the Attacking Water-Borne Diarrheal Illnesses (WDI) Proposal. The group effort was so great to watch and I learned a lot about making proposals and about the problem of water-borne illnesses, the #2 killer.

Alas, the proposals were voted on and the WDI proposal was eliminated from consideration. Ah, but reprieve: the Omidyar Network announced matching funds for the eliminated proposals during the month of December. By this time, I was ready to jump in and participate. But I hate fund raising, it always seems to remind me that I don't have any money. Still wanting very much to participate and to help the wonderful organizations the WDI team identified as deserving for funding, I dusted off my party hats idea. Yes, that's right and you can find out more at my new blog; Hats for Health.

I'm such a sucker for attention, that the barest encouragement is enough to move my lazy bones. One of the participants of the WDI team wrote:

Roll on the day when the paper hat is associated as much in the public mind with the elimination of WDI, as a red ribbon is with the elimination of AIDS or a white wristband with the elimination of world poverty!

Whoo hoo! Roll on! Clearly it's going to take a lot more people making hats.

I've got a box of hats I made earlier in the year. Something a little disturbing is the YES!Paste, I thought was the greatest thing since sliced bread, has hardened like a rock making the hats brittle and fragile. I better re-think using it so much. White glue at least for some parts of the hats is probably a better choice.

I have been enjoying surfing around for paper hats. Something that's surprised me about it is that "paper hats" seems a term like "stop smoking" for attracting traffic to sites that have nothing to do with hats. Yes there was a warning page about "explicit content" but I was curious just what kind of explicit content about paper hats would be about. Shocking! But nothing to do with hats. Hats are a great expression of human ingenuity and I've found so many interesting sites. Jeremy Weate of Naijablog posted about the Abuja Carnival and his Flickr photo set is really worth a look for the hats and costumes.

Steve Ntwiga Mugiri posts on John C. Dvorak taking a pot shot at the OLPC $100 laptop. Dvorak calls the OLPC "a dangerous distraction" a point Steve generally agrees even while distancing himself from Dvorak. Oh yes, there a kernel of truth to "dangerous distractions" and I see it raised often in discussions about trying to solve the world's problems. In a forum of very earnest people recently one poster railed against reading fiction believing facts in too short supply. I don't think that way and a part of the reason is its very difficult to predict just what's going to be useful down the line.

In any case paper party hats are criticized as frivolous. Parties are important. They are times when we come together as a community. Having fun encourages an atmosphere of cooperation and a sense of possibility. It's very discouraging to know about suffering in the world, but not to imagine any way to ameliorate it. A paper party hat isn't worth very much money, they don't cost much to make, but they are worth a little money. Making paper party hats is a way to encourage people to consider human problems and to act in a small, but significant way, to solve them.

The intention of Hats for Health is to encourage people to help raise some money in December for matching grants to the good organizations working on water and water-borne diarrheal illnesses. You may find Hats for Health a little amusing, and perhaps even encourage you to make paper hats for other worthwhile efforts. The Flickr Party Hat Group Pool is still up and ready for your photos of party hats, paper and otherwise.

Please visit Hats For Health.

Money; It's a Drag

King Tubby

I've got a title and picture that don't really match what I've got in mind. Foolishness, but one way or another I'll try to fit them with the rest of the post.

There are clearly down sides to being foolish as I am, but there must also be some up sides; or why else would I persist? The short answer is "crazy," but that doesn't quite get to the "why."

For whatever reasons I end up chatting on Instant Messaging with African people. Not so much, but enough that I can see a pattern of flimflam in some of the chats.

Amongst my foolish habits is I read palms. People who know me know that I'm so lazy that my disclaimer with every palm-reading session: "I don't know one wit about reading palms." is easily believed. It's rather uncanny, however, people still seem to think there's something to my readings. "Oh my Gawd! How did you know?

There's a little of what makes the flimflam work at play:

The whole conviction of my life now rests upon the belief that loneliness, far from being a rare and curious phenomenon, peculiar to myself and to a few other solitary men, is the central and inevitable fact of human existence. --Thomas Wolfe

Most of us do feel lonely and want very much not to feel so lonely. So the appeal for money in flimflam IMs and emails follows along the lines: together we won't feel so lonely. In essence what I read in palms is an acknowledgment of a person's loneliness and then an expression that they won't be alone. Buba at Cunninglinguistically Yours --my favorite blog name evah!--shared a missive of the sort I'm referring.

A recent chat devolved into my interlocutor cursing me out. I don't have money to send so I tend to try to steer such conversations elsewhere. But I'm a bit of a dolt when it comes to reading between the lines, and perhaps it was simply my being dense which set him off. I asked him why the insults and he answered to the effect: "Because you've got the money and won't share it."

I'm very much in favor of the approach of people like me taking a focused and modest approach to seeking solutions for African problems described by Robert Rodale in his book Save Three Lives.

I'm also reminded of a story I read about a mother of a three-year old adopted daughter from Africa. The girl had seen some coverage of crisis in Africa--perhaps and image like this one--and Mother was trying to quiet her daughter's fears. She told her girl that even when they might be apart the girl could call her. The girl protested about children in trouble, "But what if their mommies can't find a phone?" I'm afraid I've butchered the story, still even to a child in a nice middle class house in America it's plain that the problems people face are real and big.

There are at least two sorts of fears people encounter when they think about a "Save Three Lives" approach: The first "What if I'm conned?" The second "What if I'm forced to confront suffering I'd prefer not to?"

After that guy cursed me out in chat, I wondered how much money sails across oceans in search of romance and to fill the void of lonesomeness. I also puzzled over not really making a clear judgment about the good and bad of it. Last year about this time "I Go Chop Your Dollar" was a popular song on the Nigerian airwaves referring to 419 scams. There's a video up at YouTube which is worth watching if you've got the time. The Riverside Rugby Blog provides a helpful translation of the pidgin Nigerian English. The sentiments expressed in the song aren't hard to understand.

One of my other interlocutors finally and with good-nature has accepted that I'm not going to send money. I was telling him there might be better ways to make some money using the Internet and suggested blogging. I suggest blogging to everyone and just about no one takes note. He told me that the Blogger Web site wouldn't load for him. That set me off looking for other Ghana Blogs to see if any used Blogger. There are some and I discovered a new cool blog, Buchele Ghana Adventure.

An Ashesi Lecturer and an international man of leisure spend a year in Ghana, West Africa

Lovely, the blog is a family affair. First of all it's worth saying a word or two about Ashesi University. Patrick Awuah left Ghana in 1985 to attend Swathmore College. After graduation he worked as an engineer at Microsoft. Awuah enrolled at UC Berkley's Haas School of Business to explore founding and managing a university in Ghana. In collaboration with Swathmore, UC Berkley and University of Washington, Ashesi University opened its doors in a suburb of Accra in 2002.

I was just looking for Ghana blogs, but in one of the posts I found an insight into money that I hadn't expected. Steve, international man of leisure, has been blogging about a trip with Emmanuel, the family's day guard's family home. The three posts about the trip are delightful travel writing. Americans can be ugly, but we're not without our charms. Steve's observations about Emmanuel's approach to money are intriguing and he concludes:

They say that one of the differences between the Western World and Africa is how westerners will let money ruin friendships. The joke in the West is if you want to lose a friend, just loan them money. That would never happen here. Money is treated like a community resource, maybe like water from a well. A neighbor asks for some water, and of course you would share, so it is when friends/family/neighbors ask for money, if you have any, it is theirs for the asking.

That makes sense to me. Certainly I don't think people should fall prey to cons. But I think the worries about them are over-blown. The real issue is that we shouldn't imagine crossing cultural differences is a simple matter. Instead rather and adventure based in dialog.

Confronting suffering is not easy. The idea of being involved in the lives of real people to solve problems people face in practice one becomes quickly aware of the magnitude of the problems facing real people. That presents quite a dilemma: To know and do nothing; or to know and try to do something? It's painful either way as far as I can see. But to be moved into action seems quite a reasonable response.

It's not so easy to move a lazy man. And money, it's a drag. I find it really hard to motivate myself towards fund raising. Oh well, I have to try, I guess. Which brings me to the great King Tubby. He was a Jamaican electronics and sound engineer and a genuine original. Without King Tubby modern dance music wouldn't be; without King Tubby no Dub.

I love the picture because of his crown. I can't seem to get the idea of fund raising with paper party hats off my mind and off the ground. But I'm going to try once again, Paper Party Hats 2.0. The coming holidays seem an auspicious time for a launch. Watch out for Paper Party Hats redux.

The Social Web

Picture from Yulis Room

It appears that Blogger liked my last post so much it posted it twice. I'm not sure why that happened, or how to delete the extra post because the extra post doesn't exist at my Blogger Dashboard. Perhaps it's a happy accident and those readers in the Pittsburgh area will see it and doubly consider attending. Tickets will not be sold at the door, so you have to plan a little in advance. More information at The Africa Project or contact me.

I love the picture taken from a Japanese blog, it depicts The Fool of the Tarot. I so often feel a fool. I feel a bit foolish for neglecting this blog. I handle that feeling with equanimity because I'm used to not doing stuff. But I'm less calm when it comes to feeling foolish about the optimism I have about the potential good that can come from social interaction on the Web.

Over the weekend I visited good friends for dinner. One of my dear friends, who is one of the kindest and most creative persons I know, has just gotten a computer. She had a Windows 95 machine she hardly used, and did her dissertation on a similar vintage machine. She has also had put to infrequent use her husband's Windows 98 machine on dial-up, but has never really explored the Internet. My friend was a classroom teacher for many years and in her work as a psychologist has created many valuable lesson plans for use in educational settings. Her knowledge and skills and a dozen or so projects we've talked about has made me pester her to get a computer and to get online.

Her husband, and my good friend, presented her with a gift of a new laptop computer. I'm delighted and excited at the prospect that we will find ways to collaborate together online. However, my effusiveness about the social nature of the Web prompted my friend's husband to exclaim:

You're freaking me out!

I knew he was quite sincere about his disquiet, alas, my attempts to assuage his concerns only made matters worse. He pointed to the use of Internet handles and anonymous posts and I cited some examples of times that it's appropriate to post anonymously. Each attempt to make him feel less anxious about the Internet only seemed to make him feel more so.

I enjoy very much the social Web. At Tribe.net a social networking site and online community where I participate, it's not too unusual for someone to link to one of the many "personality tests" online. Recently I linked to the Greek Mythology Personality Test. The results of my test was that I'm most like Dionysus. I'm not sure how valid or reliable any of these tests are, but I often noticed they peg my faults to a tee. Sure there's much good about a Dionysian view of things, but my thin veneer of self-image reveals patterns of Apollonian order and reason. It's disconcerting that my ecstatic disorder--will that make the next Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders?--shows through. Being most like Dionysus makes me feel a little foolish. I did find a neat page to print out a Bible tract-like pamphlet Have You Heard The Good News...About Dionysus?

Yep, the Internet unruly, and my talking so ecstatically about it gave my friend the willies. And that seems to be a not too uncommon reaction. One of my friends recently said something like: "It's time to shut the Internet down!" My retort was that I like the Internet and spend a lot of time online, but only seems evidence of how sinister the Internet must be.

Recently, a very delightful young man from Ghana initiated a conversation online. I chuckled the next time we chatted when he asked if I would write to his school. It seems that I've been the subject of conversation. I told my contact I wasn't sure what to write, but would write something and and send it to him so he could tell me if what I wrote was appropriate. I wrote about wikis. Today I set up a wiki which I hope my contact and his school mates will use. I haven't heard back yet, and I'm not sure at all wikis are the sort of thing they'll find useful. But the students are online and are anxious to make connections with the wider world and all the knowledge they are trying so hard to piece together.

Emeka Okafor posted about Sweetmother.org. Founder of Sweetmother.org, Derrick N Ashong knows that empowerment comes from knowing ones own worth, and that goes for an individual as well as society. Young college students the world over have a sense of their potential. I suppose I am flattered that a young Ghanaian would seek me out and think that I had something to offer. To repay the compliment what more could I do than to tell him to let his light shine? At least that's my intention in bringing wikis to his attention. I believe the new communications tools aid tremendously to our ability to create something good. I believe too that most of us want very much to create goodness.

Ah yes, seeing as how I most resemble Dionysus or The Tarot Fool, I'm well aware of the mischief people pursue online. But the Internet as a social Web doesn't seem so frightening to me as it seems to so many of my friends. The Greeks knew that Apollo and Dionysus are brothers, their qualities are complimentary. My more orderly friends who now shun the Internet are needed here. "The more the merrier" is what I say.

Update: My double post has disappeared.

Africa Project at Brew Haus

The Africa Project is hosting a benefit dinner on Friday, December 1, 2006 from 6:00PM to 10:00pm at the Iron City Brew Haus, located at 3440 Liberty Avenue, Pittsburgh, PA 15201. Proceeds will benefit our projects to implement and support income-generating projects, education and health for former child soldiers and refugees in northern Uganda. We will be providing African entertainment; African cuisine, complimentary drinks (courtesy of Iron City Brew) as well as screening a short documentary from video footage collected this summer by our volunteers in Gulu, Uganda. Tickets are limited and must be purchased in advanced. Ticket cost $15 (students), $20 (regular) and $180 (for a table of 10 people). No tickets will be sold at the door. Call (412) 657-8513 or visit Africa Project Please, save the date and pass along the message.

Means of Production

Quilts of Gee's Bend

I have got to be one of the most disorganized persons in this round world. Self-starter? Nah, never have been. So I wonder really if my fascination with commons-based peer production and self-organizing systems really is so much wishful thinking.

There is some truly wonderful writing on the Internet. I spend my time reading quite a lot of professional writing, but often find myself more engaged by the writers who are writing for no remuneration to speak of. Oh and do I spend time on the Internet! A study by scholars at Stanford looked into the question of issue of Internet Addiction. The phenomenon is on its way towards a definition of an independent psychological disorder. Perhaps, I'll add it to my list. I was amused by this post by The Editors at the wonderful blog, The Poor Man Institute for Freedom, Democracy and a Pony:

You know what’s a really addictive hobby?

Not blogging. I could do this all day.

Indeed, I most certainly don't have to worry about becoming addicted to blogging. On the other hand I have 18 pages of notes, mostly links, I've been collecting thinking to blog about since October 6th. Naturally, as disorganized as I am, I still haven't decided what I going to write about right now.

I started to write the other day and got distracted. I uploaded the picture of stamps featuring the Quilts of Gee's Bend and entered the title "Means of Production." I suppose I thought to write about how the Internet and the new media provide a means of social production, but people like Stirling Newberry write so much more informatively than I do.

Ah, those quilts. I was so delighted to get a sheet of twenty when I purchased stamps recently. Sixth in a series of American Treasures. My mother made quilts, although not very many. The one I had on my bed as a little boy was simply square rectangles of wool she'd recovered from old garments lined with red cotton flannel and tied, nothing fancy as quilts go. Still thinking of that quilt today I'm transported back in time to bedtime as a boy sleeping in the trundle bed and being tucked in by my mummy. On a trip to England my mother took some cut geometric pieces of cloth which she pieced together by hand as she traveled to make a quilt for my grandmother and her mother in law. The quilt lay in the attic rolled on the poles of a quilting frame almost finished for years. Years after my grandmother's death my mother completed it and sent it to my father's sister. There are stories embedded in quilts and sometimes like the stories we tell, worrying if we've got the story right and finishing them is hard.

One of the reasons the quilts on these stamps attract my attention is they're so different from the quilts I'm used to seeing. Even if I had never seen African textiles before, I suspect I'd still know that those quilts made in Alabama, southwest of Selma contain stories that go back to Africa. Growing up a white guy in the USA I always wanted to hear the stories of Black Americans tell. James Baldwin made a point in The Stranger in the Village:

One of the things that distinguishes Americans from other people is that no other people has ever been so deeply involved in the lives of black men, and vice versa. This fact faced, with all its implications, it can be seen that the history of the American Negro problem is not merely shameful, it is also something of an achievement. For even when the worst has been said, it must also be added that the perpetual challenge posed by this problem was always, somehow, perpetually met. It is precisely this black-white experience which may prove of indispensable value to us in the world we face today. This world is white no longer, and it will never be white again.

Of course swapping stories isn't always an easy matter. Cultural appropriation is one of the complications. And at the crux of that is the issue of all due respect, which is too often lacking. Stories are sacred and held often times quite close to the heart. It really matters whether it's a delight for a person to share a story.

As much time as I spend on the Internet surfing the World Wide Web, you'd think I'd have learned to use the tools available better, but you'd be wrong. So I thought about that Adire African Textiles site but didn't know the name and wondered how I'd find it. Then I remembered I'd linked to it from Black Looks and found it using the handy search box there. Black Looks has been nominated in the Best Weblog/English category for the BOBs--Best of the Blogs.

I cast my vote. Sokari Ekine has been kind enough to encourage me to keep blogging. But I'll admit sometimes reading her makes me think the best I can do is to shut up. I was chatting with a Ugandan friend about something she'd written and he asked me: "Are you mad at Sokari?" My response was "I love Sokari." Perhaps more realistically I should have replied: "I feel challenged reading her posts." Still, there's an intimacy in blogs, at least ones as engaging as Black Looks which leads to a sense of connectedness.

Another blogger whose encouraged me to keep writing here is Beth Kanter of Beth's Blog. I've got so many favorite blogs, it's hard to choose just one. But when I saw that she'd been nominated for a Vloggie I went to vote. Even if you're not familiar with Beth's Blog, go to the Vloggie site and explore the nominations, you'll be glad you did. Beth's Blog is so incredibly informative and fun you'll want to explore there too.

Picking the best is so hard I don't ever try, instead most of the time I say lots of places are the best. But really talent and accomplishment are so rare, and truly something to celebrate. Korentan Ofosu-Amaah's writing is a treasure. In the comments under his latest entry which is part of a series, I'm pretty sure this Jon Udell wrote:

Thank you, Koranteng, for these novellas, and now epic poems, that you have been writing. Your _Things Fall Apart_ series is the single most extraordinary body of work that has so far emerged from this strange and wonderful new medium we are creating and discovering.

Extraordinary indeed! If you haven't discovered Korenteng's Toli yet, allow yourself some time to do just that. Things Fall Apart is a series, but you might as well start at the recent post. I love his toli so much.

The Quilts of Gee's Bend contain remarkable stories, stories that will have resonance to Americans especially, but others around the world will enjoy too. And a part of that story is the way the women who make these beautiful quilts are using modern communications technologies to make their stories widely available.

I first discovered blogs because of politics. Quickly I noticed that fabric crafters and artist were among the most prolific bloggers. The Alliance for American Quilts is probably as good a beginning into this category of blogs, but really there are so many.

I've got some ideas for Bazungu Bucks, at least I still think it's a good idea to in some way keep track of time people spend creating something good for others. I persist in thinking there's potential in sharing time and Bazungu Bucks may have a little role in promoting such sharing. At the end of the day, what matters with this blog is making an offering however humble it is. And then I'll wishfully think my contribution will become organized within the greater universe of commons-based peer production--or not. It's still amazing what people do without anybody telling them too. I'm so grateful for what you do.

Lipsmackin' Thirstquenchin' Acetastin' Motivatin' Goodbuzzin' Cooltalkin' Highwalkin' Fastlivin' Evergivin' Coolfizzin' Kaunda

Two fun and useful Web tools: The title for this post came from The Slogan Generator. It was overloaded when I visited just now, but the sardonic folks at The Surrealist suggested I might want to check out some of their other Web toys and you might too. The picture is of a magnetic tape cassette, an antiquated data storage device. The title and credits pictured were selected by me at Cassette Generator. The bulk of my music library actually still is on cassette. I always loved that format.

Well, well, it's been a long time since I've written here. I suppose I've been having a crisis of faith about this blog. For one thing it's easy enough too think and not far off the mark that nobody reads this blog. But I was surprised to discover that a few posts caused a little trouble for people I know abroad. Also there was quite a lot of activity in the African blogosphere over a controversy about The Digital Citizen Inbada held in South Africa earlier this month. While I read the commentary with interest, I don't have anything to offer about that. It's old news. Nonetheless the controversy made me question whether it is appropriate that this blog is listed on Blog Africa and even more fundamental musings about the validity of the blog itself.

Oh, I'm so lazy, so it's not as if I've come to any conclusions. The easiest thing to do seemed simply to stop writing here. That maybe what happens after all. But below the fold on the front page of the newspaper today was an article on the trial of the accused killer of David Agar, a Sudanese immigrant shot to death here in January. My heart is hangin' heavy.

While Mr. Agar's friend and an eyewitness to the shooting testified that the accused Todd Akrie fired the shots, two defense witnesses testified that another man did it and "Common Pleas Judge Donald Machen acquitted Mr. Akrie of homicide, robbery and a fire arms violation." I gasped when I first read that, and had to pause now as I copied it. It is unlikely the killers of David Agar will ever face punishment meted out by a court in his murder. It is very difficult to try two people at different times for the same murder, so probably the person identified by the defense witnesses will never be charged.

A part of what makes the story of this trial so painful to me is my own brother's murder and the ensuing trials. I don't remember which Billy Bragg song, but there's a Billy Bragg song where the prisoner complains about justice and the judge bellows, "this is a court of law not justice." Ouch, the distinction is rather lost on the majority who operate their lives with every intention of staying out of courts. I was rather taken aback how difficult it was for me to sit on a jury as an alternate. Next time I'm called for jury duty I'm sure I will tell the court that I'm not sure of my ability to be impartial, not at an intellectual but gut level.

Still the greatest sadness comes from knowing that David Agar fled invading troops in Sudan and then spent several harrowing years in refugee camps in Kenya before coming to the States. And that here refugees are expected to "sink or swim." There are networks of people to help, not the least other Africans here, but the transition to life in America is enormously difficult. David Agar was composing a life. He regularly sent money home to his family in Sudan. He kept in regular contact with the family in Eastern Pennsylvania who sponsored him. He was and active guy who helped others. There's no good way to end this post. David Agar's murder was terrible.

World Naked Gardening Day

September 9 is this year's World Naked Gardening day. How will you celebrate? I'm not sure how I will. I'm somewhat modest and the thoughts of somebody seeing me naked...well I have different thoughts, but mostly feel a bit of shame. There are practical considerations too. Small game season has opened and there are hunters about. There are thorns and yellow jacket wasps too. Still being naked in my garden is something I think I'd like; actually I know I do. Especially on those first warm spring days, I'll admit it I've stripped and laid down naked on a big flat rock in the yard. I've also gotten naked to manage my sunken pots in my little fish pond. Perhaps, I'll do that tomorrow. Except the last time I reached into the pond there was a snake.

Silly, my gardening efforts this season have been as about as assiduous as my recent posting here. The grass has grown so tall that the mower chokes and I've left the weeds go so long in the garden beds that I'm creating mountains of debris as I weeds them. My father dug potatoes today. Oh yes, I'm afraid even the vegetable garden went to pot this year. So it was to my great delight to see nice big firm red Pontiac potatoes being dug. I cooked a couple for supper. I'm not sure why but home -grown potatoes taste better and have a wonderful texture even after long storage.

As easy as it's been to neglect my garden this year, it's been even easier to ignore this blog. But today I got a comment from Sokari of Black Looks and she told me "keep blogging." I'm star-struck! I love Black Looks and I have so much admiration for all the efforts Sokari makes to bring new voices to blogging.

Two recent Black Looks posts are important. Sokari documents the gay baiting of a Kampala tabloid called Red Pepper. In A pact against freedom Solkari writes:

The horrific events taking place in Uganda should be a wakeup call for everyone. People may think that they are safe from harassment and arrest because they are heterosexual. Not so, a witch hunt affects everyone irrespective of their sexuality.

In a previous post Gay Hunt Uganda she provides more information about the current odious campaign of Red Pepper.

I'm not at all sure who you are my dear readers, or how in the world you found this blog. But I'm sure any of you who have perused my posts already know I fit the stereotype of silly mzungu. Nevertheless, I truly do believe that what affects one of us affects all of us. And I believe that using the fantastic new tools that modern information and communications technologies we have have the means to collaborate worldwide is ways never before possible. But communicating across cultures indeed has it's pitfalls, so it's good to be wary of them.

The link to A pact against freedom includes the comments and I want to point to Sokari's response to the comment I left there. She wrote in part:

John - I believe if you go down to Kampala today as a gay man or lesbian you will find yourself at best shunned and at worst beaten or even killed - definately you will not be able to return to your house or job. Please let us listen to what is being said by those who are experiencing it and not what we would like to imagine.

I certainly do agree with the importance of listening. And the implicit notion that I have no idea how bad it really is almost certainly true.

When I was a boy we moved to Greenville, South Carolina. Segregation was still very real. Drinking fountains, separate waiting room, very explicit stuff that even a boy of eight couldn't miss. My dear mother in the year or so before she died got a little dotty. One of my nephews was nearly in tears asking me "Why is Grandma so racist?" As near as I could tell what gave him that impression was her use of the word "colored." I really don't remember now, but it's quite probable the context was offensive too. It hurt me because that impression of her as racist was so off the mark.

In the fifties as a girl scout leader she had made sure that all the meetings of the girl scout leaders were in the one restaurant in the area of western Virginia that served both black and white people. She was among the very small group of white teachers who were the first to teach black students in a public school in the very first Head Start program in South Carolina. Her career as a teacher was always in classrooms with both black and white kids or simply black children.

In Charlotte, North Carolina with an extraordinarily hot and contested desegregation plan she invited all the teachers at the school she was teaching at to a party at our house. That the banker neighbor married to a realtor refuse to speak to us afterward bothered her not one whit. I was bothered by the way my peers treated me; oh that dreaded N word. But nothing in my upbringing gave me any reason to adopt a bigoted response to their taunts. I couldn't find the words to explain to my nephew about his grandmother, because I couldn't find the words to explain what it was like then, the times his grandmother lived. Of course I'm pleased my Southern nephew identifies as an anti-racist. In the scheme of things his grandmother was never a bigot when seemingly everyone else was. Bigotry which was once the norm is now disgraced. Praises be!

In the midst of writing this post I chatted with a friend in Kampala about Sokari's posts. He mentioned that he thinks of the words of Martin Luther King and has a dream for Uganda too. The bigotry of Red Pepper is something he's told me about before. The other evening I chatted with another Ugandan in a different part of the country. She was going to watch Hotel Rwanda yet another time. Certainly the bigotry in the film is a different sort from the gay baiting in Red Pepper. But my friends all tell me how corrosive bigotry is, and it is everywhere and various. No, not everyone sees the hatred and abuse of gay people as bigotry at all. In America it's common to hear the sentiment, "How dare they compare gay right with the civil rights struggle." Yet there are voices who understand that the struggle for fundamental human rights includes human sexualities. And there are those who know that bigoted violence against one is violence against all of us.

Few of us can garden outside naked as much as we might be disposed towards doing so. I can probably get away with it here, at least in some parts of my yard. Some of us may have plants inside our house we can safely tend naked. Still, I'm happy for the naked gardeners because they remind us about freedom and that the bounds of freedom can be stretched. People are encouraged to post their World Gardening Day experiences here. Right now I don't know whether I'll have anything to write. I'll just have to see what the day brings.