Everyday People

Posted on March 11, 2012 by dmn

As I organize in Missouri, I hear music in my head. Sly and the Family Stone were staples on the radio as I was coming up, yes, even in Southern Oregon. Thing was, Sly was talking to black people about the struggle for civil rights. Quoting MHP, the struggle continues.

I have a black adopted sister. My parents adopted her in Portland, Oregon — my brothers and I were all present — and drove her home with us, to one of the whitest corners of this great country. One of the perks of my cash-poor upbringing was our Ebony subscription.

My parents, a Methodist minister and a schoolteacher, wanted me to see our position as Lower Middle Class. I knew it didn’t really matter where we were financially. What truly mattered was the Ebony education we got. Stand up for what’s right, for Everyday People.

In the front section of Ebony you could read about organizers. Mary McLoud Bethune. Jesse Jackson. Julian Bond. Professor Jonathan Capehart includes his interview of Julian Bond in this brilliant column, where we get schooled on struggle in common. Capehart also included LGBT-positive clips from the Rev. Al Sharpton and U.S. Rep. John Lewis. Read up. Listen up.

Everyday People, African and LGBT Americans, are still struggling for economic justice.

My organizing follows and honors the fight for economic equality for African Americans. Makes no difference what group I’m in. I am Everyday People. In Columbia, Missouri.

One Love  –dale

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Losing My Religion

Posted on February 25, 2012 by dmn

One of my all time favorite R.E.M. songs resonates loudly for me, as I realize the truth of the place I’m living in. You can’t organize in Missouri without understanding the role that faith plays in people’s hearts. They believe, long before they can think about a new path.

I get angry here, and I try not to show it when I’m out in the community. Like Michael Stipe sings, that’s me in the corner. Very soon, maybe before I’m ready for it, that’s me in the spotlight. It’s for a very good cause, one that is so close to my heart, it’s Who I Am.

Social justice isn’t just a label. Economic justice isn’t just the way we frame our political work. I know you lose your religion when you encounter the blind hate that sells itself as American conservatism, and I will forgive you for that lapse. Because we will prevail.

Oh no, I’ve said too much. I haven’t said enough.

Everyday People understand what you’re suffering through, and if we keep it positive, our messages will reach them where they live. The carpetbagger motherf**kers will pay, if we keep the pressure on them. You are with me on this road, and from my heart I thank you, for everything you do.

One Love  –dale

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One

Posted on January 28, 2012 by dmn

So I’m trying to live with my husband and myself in Columbia, Missouri. There are signs all around me — when I’m awake enough to take them in — that I was meant to be here, at this point in my life. God is speaking to me, and this is the message.

My sisters and my brothers are here. In Columbia, and all across this great country, Love is the temple, Love is the higher law. Another sign was given to me just yesterday: One love, One blood, One life you got to Do What You Should.

A magnificent project on this theme is presently cooking within my soul. I don’t expect you to understand all of it, at least not right away. Did I ask too much?

I do expect you to try and understand. One Love  –dale

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Leaving on a Jet Plane

Posted on December 13, 2011 by dmn

I’m old enough I remember the Peter Paul and Mary version of this 60s hit. It’s a song about the regret of leaving someone you love, and not coming back. I’m leaving someone I love, and coming back. I’m going because our American healthcare “system” is insane.

My COBRA coverage is no good in Missouri. The doctor who understands is in San Jose, California. I’ll re-visit Silicon Valley with good old Democratic friends, but I’m sick at heart that I’m a sick 99%-er, and the people in charge of “healthcare” are greedy, and contemptuous of the federal-level changes on the way.

My good old Democratic friends gave me a button that shows the date and signature of Our President on March 23rd, 2010. This button gives me hope. Yes, Hope, that months from now, I won’t have to fly to see my doctor, and my medical records — which are extensive — will be available for download all across this land, at my request.

Like or comment or praise Jesus if you think I should fashion this particular journey into an art project.

Breathing,  dale

 

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Fortunate Son

Posted on October 24, 2011 by dmn

Some folks inherit Star Spangled eyes
Ooh they send you down to war, Lord
And when you ask them, “How much should we give?”
Ooh they answer “More, More, More”

It ain’t me, It ain’t me, I ain’t no military son, son
It ain’t me, It ain’t me, I ain’t no fortunate one, no.

For awhile now, conservative members of my family have been creeping out of their fortunate closets to visit #Occupy sites and observe the movement. They shy away from the opportunity to join the people on the trail, making history. They say it’s about strident, provocative language on handmade signs. I love my family, but fuck it.

People vote for Republicans because they want to believe that buys them control. This incapacity — while tragic — appeals to folks who lack the spine to face uncertainty. They use the words “I’m not comfortable with ______” to avoid engagement. And for the record, I’m not “comfortable” with war- and oil-profiteer Democrats.

Let’s stop farting around, Nelsons. No matter what your personal fortune — or lack thereof — in today’s terms, you’re on my economic level. I don’t assume control of anything. I work hard in spite of disabling Central Apnea. My husband and I moved to CoMo to get economic relief from our Silicon Valley situation. In spite of degrees and mad skills, we are financially precarious, with lots of company here in Missouri.

I am the 99%, and so are you. Get comfortable with that, and then we’ll Talk.

/ Thanks for the lyrics excerpt, LyricsFreak.

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