An essential part of our work is to curate and offer resources that help all of us navigate in these times. please explore these curated collections – Our Pandemic Resource Center, Afternow, Great Transition Stories and Essential Knowledge, as well as our blogs, below.
The heartbeat of racism itself has always been denial. The sound of that heartbeat is “I am not racist.” There is no such thing as “not racist.”
As we have started to add anti-racist materials to our Essential Knowledge collection, we have been struck by how much is out there. In many cases we are offering collections of resources created by others and sharing them in their context. We invite you to unlearn and learn with us.
Organized in Snohomish County every year for the last five years, the 2020 Step Up Conference is entirely virtual. It’s inexpensive and can is even
Bearing witness to Black life only when it ends in a death is a white tradition. It is lynching, but now it is digital. White people, statistically less likely to be in diverse friend groups and more likely to know only other white people, have been searching for the language for this moment, and have been reaching out for the much-coveted Black Friend (of “well, my Black Friend says it” fame). Stuck at home with nothing but the news, they’ve been called to do something, anything. So they’ve sent messages, DMs, texts, e-mails and more. These stories are meant to tell me who they are: a good person who is on my side. But what white people never mention in their anecdotes is what they have done. It’s because, in every instance, they have done nothing. They witnessed racism and reported back to me, seemingly the stenographer of racism.
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The headlines are relentless. The image just overwhelming. In the last weeks when I have looked outside my windows in Spokane, Washington into the yellow soup of very hazardous air, I’ve felt overwhelm claustrophobic. Destruction of the small town of Malden, to the south of us is tragic. Hell, there’s so much tragedy around these days that it is hard to know where to start.
The following account comes from a cattleman, David Daley, in Northern California. It is his deeply personal story of the desecration of lands his family has walked for generations. It is more than hard to read. I urge you to take in as much as you can. We are in liminal space now. The space between what was and what will be. It is a time of collapse and regeneration. We have choices here. Personally, I am finding it hard to understand exactly what they are and to step towards them..
For eight years I had been practicing exercises to calm my anxious body. As a result, I have metabolized stuck energy from personal trauma and protective patterns from childhood that no longer serve me, opening up space inside for the healing and growth of my nervous system.
Then I heard Resmaa Menakem (author of My Grandmother’s Hands) on a podcast describing the work I’d been doing on a personal level but through the lens of race. … After listening to the podcast, I knew deep down in my bones that for true racial healing to begin, we must heal our nervous systems and our reptilian brains that react to keep us and our loved ones safe in a society in which bodies of different colors distrust and fear one another.
We are rapidly becoming aware that none of us are going to be left out of the collapse of multiple systems in which we live. Wars may be happening elsewhere, but fires, floods, hurricanes, bomb cyclones, tsunamis, crop failures, earthquakes and now pandemics are all around us. There is no way out of the experience of the collapse. We are already in it. No matter what your privilege, we are still all interconnected and when the food supply runs out, the grid goes down, communications stop, water runs out, and millions have a virus, we will all feel it. It’s essential that we learn how to hospice the passing of the old so it spews as little destruction and death as possible while we also midwife newly emerging patterns of compassionate caring and interconnectedness.