Ethics & Society on The Edge of Somewhere

Those People

Thu, 30 May 2024 00:00:00 +0000

I’ve had various versions of this post in draft for months; it’s not that I have nothing to consider or say on what’s happening in Gaza, it’s just that anything I’ve written seems so insufficient in scope and understanding. Equally, I feel my words are just a whisper in the wind especially when so many are speaking forcefully against the war to apparently little effect. However, I had a conversation with a friend yesterday about the nature of evil in the world; it’s so commonplace now and those who commit even the most egregious crimes face few consequences (or are promoted and lauded instead). I have to say something. It may not alter one bit of what’s going on elsewhere; but, if for nothing else, it’s for my own spirit and the few people who read this who might take a moment more to consider.

Microdosing Heroism

Mon, 28 Jun 2021 00:00:00 +0000

I’m, perhaps ironically considering we’ve just gone into lockdown in Sydney, thinking this morning of the thousand small interactions we have with others. Each of these, no matter how brief or seemingly inconsequential, provide some opportunity to change the course of one’s own and the other person’s day (or, I suppose in a larger sense, can have an impact on the rest of our lives). I don’t want to make that thought too grand as it would be exhausting to carry around and have it at the forefront of our consciousness wherever we go (especially in an urban environment where one has so many fleeting encounters each day). However, I think there is some space, especially in difficult times, to be more aware of and for each other with compassion and intent.

The Essential

Mon, 13 Apr 2020 00:00:00 +0000

Before I begin writing about this, I want to acknowledge, while there is much discussion about the pandemic as a shared catastrophe, it will obviously fall upon us all in very different ways. I’m writing from relatively ‘safe’ Australia where, despite initial fumbles, the authorities and public have quickly adopted measures that seem to have warded off at least the initial hard impact of the virus. Yes, at the biological level we are all equally at risk; however the mitigation of that risk is vastly different depending on your location and/or socioeconomic status. Also, even within the societies that have prepared well and are taking adequate measures, the economic fallout from this will be significant (and ‘significant’ seems too muted a word). I’ve retained full employment and am able to readily work from home; that’s not the case for a tremendous number of people who either can’t do this or who are currently stood down from work in an industry that has closed shop for the duration.

Regarding that thing and some facts

Fri, 06 Apr 2018 00:00:00 +0000

This was published in the Morganown, WV Dominion Post yesterday. It’s my rebuttal to a letter to the editor from the day prior. The writer of the original letter claimed, as is so often erroniously repeated in America when this is mooted, that Australia has become a free-for-all of criminality and fear since the National Firearms Agreement. I will grant that Australia and America have very different underlying cultures that don’t make particular decisions on this immediately parallel; however, if you are going to posit an argument, you have to work from the facts.

What kind of heritage?

Tue, 22 Aug 2017 00:00:00 +0000

I’m Appalachian. I’m specifically from West Virginia, which ‘sided’ with the North in the American Civil War; regardless, I consider myself ‘Southern.’ Each of the above are layers of identity and heritage. Above those labels I’m an American which, though we consider it some kind of concrete identity, is really so diverse an amalgamation as to defy any sort of compact definition. If anything, America, as I was raised to ideally understand it, is composed of dissimilar peoples who have come together in the United States. Our similarity is based on and strengthened by our diversity. My personal identity is expanded though by further experiences I’ve had in other places and cultures. In other words, my identity doesn’t come from existing in one place or only referencing that single place. Identity comes from an understanding of my place in the larger whole. It’s both looking back and forward, not something static and based wholly on the imagined past. It’s also tempered by an informed understanding of other people and their experiences. Neither my culture or my personal history have formed in isolation; before I can comprehend my own place in the story, I need to make the effort to properly ‘read’ that of others. Otherwise, I’ll have only a narrow and weakly formed identity based on my internal monologue.

The homosexuals aren't coming for your children

Thu, 10 Aug 2017 00:00:00 +0000

This morning I received an email from Lyle Shelton, Managing Director of The Australian Christian Lobby. I have neither met Mr Shelton nor communicated with him in any way, yet he saw fit to send an email encouraging me, as a ‘‘Church Leader" to ‘‘activate’’ in response to the postal plebiscite on marriage equality. Mr Shelton did not contact me previously about aid for refugees fleeing to Australia from conflicts abroad; he did not contact me about the need for interfaith dialogue in a pluralistic society; he did not even contact me last week about an appropriate faith response to the homeless encampment in Martin Place. Mr Shelton has reached out, for the first time, about an issue he assumes must be the primary point of agreement that I, as a Quaker, have with the general community of Christians in Australia (namely that a sizable portion of Australian residents are less deserving of a given set of rights than ‘‘us’’).

Where are we again?

Tue, 26 Jan 2016 00:00:00 +0000

I’ve had several conversations in the past months with Australians whose families have been here for generations as well as more recent immigrants. I’m noting that Australia, and this is really generalising, does not offer a strong sense of common cultural identity. There just isn’t a critical mass of shared history, art, language and literature that acts as an underlying core for people to hold. In contrast to, say the UK, which can look back at a thousand years of ‘place’; regardless of who people are or where they come from they can have some sense of place in where they have arrived. This just isn’t apparent in Australia; the Aboriginal past is so completely wiped from the culture that even Aboriginal people struggle to grasp it—so that’s not a viable thread (and would not really be for the majority of people living here anyway). The Colonial history doesn’t offer much in the way of a positive underpinning to society either. I sense that, for the majority of white Australia, there is this general unease over one’s identity. It’s as if there is a projected form over the envelope of who they are that doesn’t quite fit.

The Perception of Danger and the Assumption of Safety

Wed, 19 Aug 2015 00:00:00 +0000

I woke Tuesday morning to the news that the Erawan Shrine in central Bangkok had been bombed; this is particularly poignant for me as I was at that shrine a week before to the day. I’m going to take care not to say ‘relevant’ for me as, frankly, other than the shared humanity I have with the victims, I am not really connected to the incident. I think there can be a bit of ‘adventure hubris’ in saying too eagerly, ‘yeah, I was right there man…well, a week before but, hey, close call wasn’t it?’

Pro patria mori

Fri, 25 Apr 2014 00:00:00 +0000

Today was ANZAC Day (the Australian Memorial Day); I’m conflicted over the concept of war memorial. Earlier this week, I made this photograph of a wood carving in the mezzanine at work (click on the image to see it larger). It was commissioned in the 1950’s by the Federation to commemorate teachers who served and died in World War I & II. It depicts a prone soldier holding what seems to be either a bouquet of some sort or perhaps a handful of grasses and what I assume is meant to be a Bible in the other hand. It’s not clear whether he is resting or is, indeed, dead; the text reads ‘He served in war that we might live in peace’. That’s debatable for WWI, where the Australians suffered a terrible defeat in far away Gallipoli (observed today); perhaps less so for WWII where they were directly at risk from Japanese invasion.

Misstep

Wed, 26 Feb 2014 00:00:00 +0000

Because an airplane flew overhead
At 4AM
I am awake.
It is the interconnectedness of all things;
Because, two days ago,
In an intersection somewhere
In Denver,
The flight mechanic responsible for this plane
That flew overhead
At 4AM,
Missed a stop sign and nearly
Ran over a pedestrian,
He was upset and, later that day,
Forgot to note he had repaired a minor problem in a pump.
But, when the plane landed in Fiji, the prudent pilot
Was concerned and had it checked.
This only took a moment;
But, because of this, they missed a take off window.
Whilst they were waiting, the engineer there noticed something else
That was critical and had to be repaired
Thus delaying the flight several hours and putting it in to Sydney
At 4AM; awaking a swath of sleeping suburbs.
Because of that pedestrian, who had paused for a moment
To greet a neighbour in Denver who had surgery some weeks ago.

On Difference

Sun, 15 Dec 2013 00:00:00 +0000

There is a special awareness that comes from reading old journals whilst jet-lagged; the words don’t seem any more profound, but the filter of strange tiredness certainly adds a layer of ‘did I write this? What was I thinking?’ which could be a positive or negative observation.

I wrote the notes below about ten years ago when considering how a very conservative religious institution (I had my former university in mind) could open a discussion on racial diversity. Much of this would apply to ethnic or interfaith conversations as well. All, of course, presupposes a level of openness to begin with.

Because of Violence (essay)

Thu, 21 Feb 2008 00:00:00 +0000

In conjunction with yesterday’s poem, I’ve also submitted an interpretative essay on the writing process. I’ll not post the entire essay; however, here is a condensed version that outlines my rationale:
Having personally observed violent societies, spoken to victims of violence, and witnessed innumerable real and imagined acts of violence in the media—I have begin to consider potential remedies; what are the root causes? What is it about humans that give us this tendency toward violence? Is it innate or a learned activity? Last year, I began drafting a manifesto of sorts laying out my thoughts on the topic (with the aim to eventually expand the precepts into a book-length work). However, while the document is clear in its proposals, it lacks a certain vigour. For instance, the third proposal (which becomes canto three in the poem) states:

Because of Violence

Wed, 20 Feb 2008 00:00:00 +0000

This is part of a “creative assignment” for the MSc; we’ve been asked to produce a piece that speaks to an environmental or social issue. Alas, according of the vagaries of HTML, most of my utterly keen typesetting for this poem will be lost; some things are still better kept on paper. Here is a .pdf version of the poem with the intended formatting: Because of Violence
One
Because the world is a place of violence
—All life has value
What is the root of violence;
In what soil does it grow?
It taps down and breaks through the clay of life,
—Bodies and Earth alike
It grows—perversely alive, but is the end of living.

Writing across borders

Sat, 26 Aug 2006 00:00:00 +0000

I’ve been indirectly involved with Atlantic Bridge for the past two years (beginning at a curriculum development workshop in Liberec, Czech Republic). My initial contact with AB came through Drs. Nathan Corbitt and Vivian Nix-Early of BuildaBridge International. Nathan and Vivian have consulted on the curriculum from the beginning and usually oversee the writer’s workshops. I am the Director of Communications for BuildaBridge; through a series of meetings concerning media planning and development, I was asked by Atlantic Bridge to come to the Netherlands for a short term and concentrate specifically on revising and finishing the Bridgebuilder curriculum. My professional training is in cinema production; however, I have moved increasingly toward communications consulting with a focus on writing and information design and welcome the opportunity to work on a project such as this.

Bridgebuilders Nutshell

Thu, 24 Aug 2006 00:00:00 +0000

I am currently revising a cross-cultural youth curriculum for Atlantic Bridge in the Netherlands. I was asked yesterday to write a one-page summary of the concept for general distribution.

The mission of Atlantic Bridge is to connect young people living in a climate of conflicting worldviews so they can develop personal expression and faith through cross-cultural friendships. Our primary way of doing this is through the “Bridgebuilders” concept. We combine a balanced cultural understanding with the mission of building bridges of friendship and faith. A fourteen lesson curriculum is the training method; while international festivals and other events co-ordinated by Atlantic Bridge bring young people face to face. As we work with high school students, we are careful not to make this heavily intellectual or theoretical, but rather a practical and experiential learning tool. Our aim is to make a targeted curriculum that prepares youth for the realities of a multi-cultural society; we equip youth to become the next generation of “complete” citizens in a world that needs people with these special skills.

Exchange Value

Wed, 16 Aug 2006 00:00:00 +0000

The exchange I’ve been part of for the past week is now over; all the people involved have gone back to their homes and I have a moment to reflect on what’s taken place. I’m tempted to put the most positive spin possible on such meetings and I do believe that much was accomplished (perhaps more than what we, as leaders of the exchange, are capable of observing); however, I’m discouraged by what is really going on.
I want things to be simple; most people seek straightforward answers to a given question. There is a barrage of information, tasks, decisions, and considerations we must deal with every day. To add levels of complexity just bogs down the process of living. This is a common human trait; it’s true of an executive working in Chicago and a street vendor in Cairo. Otherwise we, as a species, wouldn’t get much done; we’d sit about thinking about the origins of the sugar-cube in our tea and the global consequences of cane trade, etc. I would just like my tea sweet and not have to think about someone slaving away in a field.

Two from Palestine

Wed, 16 Aug 2006 00:00:00 +0000

This is from an interview yesterday with two youth from Palestine on the exchange. Since Sunday evening, we have been at a hostel surrounded by forest in the Netherlands, far from the turmoil we’ve been discussing all week. In parenthesis, I have made some minor language edits for clarification; my questions are italicised. Again, this is only a brief selection of a much larger discussion which was taking part this last week; I believe, at least for the Palestinians involved in this exchange, that the major accomplishment of the week was to put their story into words. They feel confined and shut off from the world’s ear; just the opportunity to quietly sit down in a neutral place and unburden themselves of their story is a major relief. I think a portion of the violence we see portrayed on the news is a result of their feeling that nobody is listening and they’ve no other way to communicate their message. Hopefully the work we’ve done this week has given them a new voice and some tools to express their situation positively.

Peace and pistachios

Wed, 09 Aug 2006 00:00:00 +0000

For the past several mornings, each of the participant groups in this exchange have given a country presentation. Yesterday morning, the group from Jaffa spoke of hospitality in Islamic cultures. Though I have lived in the southern United States and experienced much warm hospitality there, I have a feeling a few weeks in a Muslim country might top the capabilities of people in Georgia and South Carolina. These are people with a deep-seated understanding of how to be hosts and consider it a mark of honour to welcome and care for guests. Last evening was a Palestinian meal; afterwards was dancing (very proper, men danced with men and the women with women) and some smoking from the hookah (not me). I’m sincerely struck with the contrast between how these kind joyful people express themselves so generously while living under such bleak circumstances. When asked about this today, they said some of their gladness for the moment comes from the respite they are experiencing here in the Netherlands. “Why are there only a few police in the streets?” “Where are the checkpoints?” “What documentation must we carry?” “How is it that these people live so freely?” These are questions asked in all sincerity. When you are from a place where one can be detained for hours for not having the right stamp or a policeman can pat down any woman in the street, I’d imagine coming to a country as open as the Netherlands would be almost shocking. We have to explain that, if there is a problem, you should go to a policeman; they here to help and you’ve nothing to fear from them.

Evening in Antwerp

Tue, 01 Aug 2006 00:00:00 +0000

Last night, I went into Antwerp with John and one of the interns, Cammaria. We were to check out a youth hostel for the upcoming Muslim-Christian exchange. Ironically, the hostel is next to a synagogue in the heart of Antwerp’s large Jewish neighbourhood. John approached an Orthodox man on the street and asked if our group might meet with someone from the synagogue (one day in Antwerp is dedicated to a “faith safari;” the city has an extensive religious history). John first mentioned the youth were coming from Israel; however, when he clarified that the youth are from Jaffa and East Jerusalem, the man looked a bit incredulous. He said he would contact us though; hopefully there is an opening for discussion and some civility in the midst of all that’s going on currently in and around Israel. Unfortunately, conflict is a sticky thing that clings to the feet of those who travel. No matter how far one tries to walk away, there seems to always be some vestige of it left. In 1981, in peaceful Antwerp, the Synagogue was hit by a car bomb; I’m sure the wound of that is not forgotten or completely healed. I wonder how the Jewish people living there will react to a group of Palestinians coming into their midst; I wonder what will go through the minds of the Palestinians as they walk through the middle of the Jewish town, surrounded by Orthodox Jews and billboards in Hebrew, to get to our meeting location.