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The Invitation

I don't often repost full length pieces of other's writing, but I was riffling through my old cards the other day- and this poem my grandmother shared a few years back struck me and spoke to my current thoughts on life in an age where 'what you do' is thought to be equivalent to 'who you are.'

The Invitation

It doesn't interest me
what you do for a living.

I want to know what you ache for,
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are.

I want to know you will risk
looking lik a fool for love,
for your dreams,
for the adventure of being alive.

Soil and Food, Post Election

On this day, November seventh, 2012, we know who our president and political leaders will be in America for the next four years. We know that we will have the same cast of characters that we've had since the last election two years ago plus and minus a few faces and we know that Californians' barely declined to endorse a proposition that would label GMO foods. What does this mean for soil and food?

Though I am happy with the results of the national election, we will be carefully watching congresses' ability to make positive change in the fate of our food system. Will they begin to pay attention to the growing call for a healthy, more localized food supply? While there are some who may be inclined to be negative about this prospect, we have some reason to hope.

At a recent screening of Symphony of the Soil in Tokyo, inquisitive citizens asked me what I thought of the Obama administrations' agricultural policies. My answer to them mimics my feelings today.

We live in a nation where monied interests have caught hold of the political system. Though they have not yet figured out how to rule the game in it's entirety, they do enough to damage the functioning of the machine. To this end we live in the only industrialized nation that hasn't labeled GMOs and where the food system is so opaque it's hard for even those of us who study it full time to make heads or tails of it. We have soil loss, nitrogen pollution of our streams and rivers, farm workers who get paid nothing and are poisoned by the chemicals we spray on our food. Birds that sit in cages too small for them to turn around, and cows that have never seen the light of day. A nation that has lost touch of where food comes from and what real food is, and a food system that wants to keep it that way.

But for all of the darkness and suffering in our food system, this election today reaffirms some small signs of hope.

The Obama family has planted an organic garden on the White House lawn, and encouraged the nations' families to do the same. Michelle Obama has traveled the country encouraging school kids to eat more healthily and avoid processed foods in order to avert diabetes and obesity. Kathleen Merigan is the assistant Secretary of Agriculture and has presided over a marked increased in USDA attention to organic and local food- including the Know Your Farmer, Know Your Food campaign. There's a cost-share program in the Farm Bill that helps farmers pay the price of transition to organic and government funding for beginner farmers and ranchers. In California, the majority of citizens have now heard the phrase 'GMO'. And though Prop 37 was outspent 5 to 1 by corporate interests who want to keep the veil of secrecy over the industrial food supply- we, the consumers, almost won.

Our office received an email from the Prop 37 organizers this morning that said it perfectly, 'we may have lost the skirmish, but we will win the war'. That's the way we here feel about the election. We didn't get everything that we wanted out of this election, but the nation's direction, given Newtons' first law of motion, will continue to propel us towards a more just, fair, clean, and soil friendly food system if we just keep pushing away.

Link to Original Post

Why I want you to Vote Yes on Prop 37

For all of you who remain undecided on PROP 37 on this years' California ballot. May I strongly encourage you to support it.  

I could go on about my personal feelings about GMOs and the harm they may do, but that's not what Prop 37 is about. Simply put, Prop 37 will allow us to know what is in our food. Period. It's not anti-GMO, it is pro-consumer. It is pro-knowledge. 

Please talk to your neighbors and your friends about it. Find out how it's one of the biggest grass roots efforts on the Ballot for years. I myself was one of the thousands of un-paid volunteers who stood on corners and gathered signatures for it. 

Ignore the adds on TV paid for by the 34 million dollars donated to the anti-Prop 37 campaign by the likes of MONSANTO, DUEPONT, and DOW CHEMICAL. They are only meant to confuse the issue. 

This is a citizen effort, where all government regulation and common sense have failed us. We are THE ONLY industrialized nation that hasn't labeled GMOs. It will not cost the government nor the people of California anything, and it will cost companies very little to actually change their labeling. It's just ink. The only entities that will loose from Prop 37 passing are the companies that sell GMO seeds, the companies that sell pesticides, and the companies that profit from the undemocratic industrial food system and have no interest in change.

What we as the public seek to gain is: knowledge about our food supply and the ability to track how it will effect us and our children. We currently have no way to know what the long term effects of GMOs are- because we don't know where they are. Also: if California passes Prop 37, it is likely the entire US will label GMOs. This is why companies are campaigning so hard against it. Our small window for affecting great change on the nation's food supply is Prop 37. 

Lastly, if Monsanto et. al. are so proud of their GMOs, why wouldn't they want them labeled so people can go out and find them?

Enough said. Please stand with me, send an email or a text to everyone you know, and collectively, let's VOTE YES ON PROP 37.

For promotional materials like bumper stickers, go here.

We are such things as dreams are made on

The Biggest Thing

I had the realization the other day, that I never wanted to be one of those women where the biggest thing they had in their life was getting married. Darned if I didn't damn myself to fate.

The biggest thing I have in my life today is that I'm getting married. My feminista identity is being rocked to the core.

Least ways it's going to be an awesome wedding.

Canning Nerds

Just steamed through another Barbara Kingsolver tome. When I told my girlfriends at a recent dinner that I was finally reading 'Animal, Vegetable, Miracle'- one retorted that I could have written it. As if! (Though I did glow a bit from the compliment on lifestyle.)

I remembered her comment in particular when I got to this quote last night.

"Some moment of every summer finds me all out of canning jars. So I go to town and stand in line at the hardware store carrying one or two boxes of canning jars and lids, renewing my membership in a secret society. Elderly women and some men, too, will smile their approval or ask outright, 'What are you canning?' These folks must see me as an anomaly of my generation, an earnest holdout, while the younger clientele see me as a primordial nerdhead, if they even notice. I suppose I'm both. If I even notice."

Barbara Kingsolver! If you and I weren't twins in some life past- I don't know what. I'm pretty sure though, that I qualify for a bigger primordial nerdhead because you're definitely old enough to be my mom.

Symphony of the Soil: Drought Warnings: Missing the POint

I'm writing for a blog on the Symphony of the Soil (the film I helped produce) website. Here's one of my latest posts... 

For the last ten days all eyes have been on the US corn belt, which has been experiencing a massive drought. Now, don't get me wrong, drought is a big deal, it absolutely effects agricultural livelihoods and waterways, not to mention crops and animals that depend on water. This being said, the commentary that's been raging on about drought bringing higher food prices like today's piece in The Guardian, misses the point.

Will some types of food prices be affected? Yes. This drought will push up the price of chicken, pork, and beef- animals who, when industrially grown, are primarily fed on corn, the principle victim of the drought. The drought will also push up the price of corn oil and corn syrup, which, when chemically re-configured, are found in most processed food.

This is where commentators are failing to take the next step in their analysis. Which types of food prices are going to be affected by this drought? Animal products and processed foods.

The newspapers act as if Americans won't be able to feed themselves without hamburger, sodas (rich in corn-syrup), and a bag of Cheetos. In times of crisis, the talk of the obesity scare and worries about diabetes go straight out the window.

Crisis like these are a one of the few times that we as a society have the chance to re-evaluate our nations' agricultural priorities. What if The Guardian stopped shouting about the growing food crisis and started promoting alternatives? How about heading down to your local farmers' market- which, for the most part won't have been affected by the drought, and buying some carrots- which are probably better for animal health, your health, and the planet in the long run anyway.

-by Jessy Beckett

Farm Bill 2012: Remembering the Soil

Every five years congress debates and reauthorizes a piece of legislation known as the Farm Bill. More aptly nicknamed the Farm and Food Bill by many food activists, this legislation pays for everything from food stamps, to conservation programs, to agricultural research priorities. Originally authorized during the Dust Bowl, and pushed by Hugh Hammond Bennett- the man who started the Soil Conservation Service (known in its present form is known as the NRCS)- the Farm Bill was enacted to serve two primary purposes. First, to support farms across the country in times of economic depression, so that farmers wouldn't starve when prices hit bottom and, secondly (and most important to our cause) to mandate that farmers who received government aid enacted simple soil conservation techniques that would prevent the likes of the dust bowl from happening again.

While we as a nation have clung mightily to the concept of supporting farmers in times of need- we have forgotten Bennett's impetus that saving our soil should be a national priority. Congress has since unlinked the direct payment (commodity-crop subsidy) program from the necessity to conserve the soil- thereby allowing egregious soil mismanagement by farmers who are simultaneously being subsidized by tax payer dollars.

Instead of a hand in glove approach, soil conservation practices have since the mid 80's been encouraged through the Conservation Reserve Program (CRP)- which pays farmers to put marginal land out of production, and gives grants to growers to plant hedgerows, wildlife corridors, and beneficiary insect habitat.

This year, everything is set to change. As congress is trying to slim down anything that could be construed as wasteful fat off of the national budget, the direct payment program is on the chopping block- backed by an odd mix of environmentalists and large corn-belt farmers. Good Food movement activists who have, for decades, tried to eliminate the subsidies to the nations largest (and primarily conventional) farms are thrilled the direct payment program looks to be going the way of the Dodo.

However- there's a back door to this years farm bill that will continue the system of subsidizing large conventional farming operations with an increased reckless abandon in terms of conservation. The farm bill that Senate Agricultural Committee Chairwoman Debbie Stabenow has put forth- axes the direct payment plan in favor of a crop insurance subsidy for farmers called the Agricultural Risk Coverage (ARC) program.  In an open letter from a litany of Food Leaders to congress this week, some of the nation's leading food and farming advocates came together to daylight the bait and switch technique that will serve the same large conventional farming interests as every other farm bill of the past several decades. They write that the proposed $9 billion-a-year crop insurance program comes with minimal societal obligations. Growers collecting hundreds of thousands of dollars in insurance premium subsidies should at least be required to take simple measures to protect wetlands, grassland and soil. Instead, the unlimited subsidies will encourage growers to plow up fragile areas and intensify fencerow-to-fencerow cultivation of environmentally sensitive land, erasing decades of conservation gains.

We agree with them that, It doesn't have to be this way. Any type of subsidy program- whether direct payment or through the form of the back door Agricultural Risk Coverage program needs to mandate soil conservation practices. We need to keep in mind that we are blessed with great soil in this country- and we need to respect that it is the basis of our very productive agricultural system. The internet news and commentary site Politico reported that  There is strong pressure...for Congress to reverse a 1996 law and again require farmers to comply with soil conservation rules or lose the premium subsidies so important to insuring their crop revenues. Stabenow said she has added “sod busting” protections for native prairie grasslands but would oppose any amendment to establish a broader link between crop insurance assistance and the soil conservation rules.

This is an appeal to Ms Stabenow and the rest of congress. Heed Hugh Hammond Bennett's almost century old warning that  “Too many people have lost sight of the fact that productive soil is essential to the production of food” and include stringent soil conservation practices in the design of the ARC program. We disagree with the shift from one type of subsidies to another- but if you are to follow through with subsidizing the crop insurance of famers- please remember the soil!

KUSP Reports: Land Trusts Partner with Farmers to Conserve Agricultural Land

Interviewed for the local radio station about land trusts leasing land to farmers.

KUSP Reports: Environment » Blog Archive » Land Trusts Partner with Farmers to Conserve Agricultural Land

KUSP Reports: Environment » Blog Archive » Making Open Space Leases Work for Farmers

Dogwood Farm on Peninsula Open Space Trust Land

Live Real Farm Bill Video

My sister Hillary and I recently worked with Live Real- a national youth food and farming organization- to produce this video.

The Feminist Bride: The Dress Take 3

Given that my first two stabs at dress shopping were not successful- and stressful to boot- I did not go out of my way to schedule any more dress shopping adventures. I was discouraged by a perceived lack of options. Vintage stuff didn't fit me, retail dresses were  expensive and probably made out of crap from China. I was ready to throw in the towel.

My third dress shopping experience was therefore an accident.

I was having breakfast with my aunt and my cousin in Oakland. My aunt commented that she had recently located my grandmother's wedding dress and asked if I wanted to give it a go. I, rather sheepishly, replied I was game to try anything at this point.

Minutes later she re-appeared, silk dress from 1950s in hand. My grandmother was a practical bride. She wore a short dress, not even white- but a silvery grey color, so that she could wear it again. Of course, as all brides with similar objectives, she never did- and thus it ended up in the dress-up box of my childhood. The next person to wear it was a much younger version of yours-truly, sometime in the late eighties, roughly forty years later. Many times my aunt has told the story of how she salvaged the dress one afternoon after I had spent the day wearing it in my manzanita treehouse.

Although she might have saved it from further disrepair that day, the dress was in pretty bad shape. The lace along the neck was torn in many places, the hem had become undone and was beginning to fray, and there were a myriad of stains covering every major piece of the skirt and bodice. Even if it had fit me it would have needed almost total reconstruction.

What happens next was predictable- given the findings of earlier dress shopping trips. Remember how no dress manufactured before 1960 fit? Same deal. I managed to get my arms and shoulders into the dress, and, delicately, the rest of my body smoshed into it. Seams busting- my aunt and I looked on in her full length mirror. If I had breathed, the dress would have clearly lost its stitching. Fail. I said. My aunt chirped something about it having been a long-shot anyway. We both laughed.

After she had assisted me in smooshing myself back out of the family heirloom, she hung it up, and as we were returning to the breakfast table, she had another inspiration.

Jessy- she buzzed- what about The White Elephant Sale? To which, like any non East Bay native- I replied, the what? The White Elephant Sale she said- it's the Bay Area's largest garage-sale, it's happening today and I have some things to donate.

For those of you who don't know- The White Elephant sale is a huge fundraiser put on by the Oakland Museum Women's Board, a bunch of bad-ass chicks who are in their 60's. It's been put on for decades to support the Oakland Museum. They throw a month long, super organized garage sale in a building larger than the size of your average Costco. It takes a staff of hundreds of volunteers and thousands of people come every year. This year it grossed 1.8 million. Impressive.

An hour later we were in the building. First impression: slightly overwhelming for any second hand goods enthusiast. My aunt and cousin made a bee line for the women's apparel section, breezing past inquisitive volunteers- they clearly new exactly where the rack of wedding dresses was located.

The first dress I saw was just about the most heavenly piece of fabric and string I've come across. I delicately removed it from the end of the rack, along with a couple of other dresses for good measure and entered the large communal fitting room with my cousin and aunt.

Amongst 15 gawking women of all shapes and sizes, all in various states of undress, I began to try on the wedding dresses. Saving the best for last. One was too small by a mile, one made me look like the dreaded cupcake, and another made me look like an 18th century bride- way too many buttons. The heavenly piece came last.

When I put it on, all the chatter in the communal dressing room fell silent. A few women gasped. One matronly looking woman in her 60s in nothing but her bra and panties whispered-  you have to buy that. Others nodded their heads in agreement. Everyone was moved. The choice was made. Me, my aunt, my cousin, and 15 half naked strangers were sure that this was the one.

I left Oakland with a silk and satin hand made wedding dress from who knows when, with embellishments of satin roses, that fits me perfectly. I left Oakland with a wedding dress in a recycled plastic shopping bag, having donated just over a hundred dollars to a cause that I feel good about. I left Oakland with a wedding dress that I'll wear proudly and look great in- values still in tact.

The Feminist Bride: The Dress Take 2

The second stab at dress shopping came later the same day, in a very different location in San Francisco. Having exhausted seemingly all vintage possibilities in the Haight- we took a different approach and headed to China Town.

Designer Dresses. Discount store.

Now- I don't know about you- but I had NO idea how expensive wedding dresses are retail. The average price of a bridal gown must hover around a grand, while designer dresses retail for something between 8-12K. Yes. You read that correct.

Perhaps it's just my spend thrift ways- but a price tag of that nature makes me a little queazy. Or, more literally, as my partner put it, it brings the thought to mind that you could buy a pretty nice Toyota Truck for that price.

So- enter the supposedly discount store.

The Feminist Bride: The Dress Take 1

When my bridesmaid Ann found out she was coming out west to California for a week on business, she called and told me she had 10 hours to spend with me- and the first thing she suggested was that we go dress shopping. And so the first foray into the bridal dress extravaganza began.

As I had deemed that I wanted a '20s themed wedding, she suggested that I look up vintage stores in San Francisco. "We'll hit up the Haight" said her excited text message. I began by making a roster of vintage stores in the Haight district of San Francisco, and, using my adept project management skills, called each one to see if they carried old wedding dresses. Most did not, but there were a few that replied in the affirmative.

On the day we had scheduled to go to the city, we woke up early, not wanting to get behind the clock. On our drive up we fantasized about the perfect dress- I spoke about wanting to flatter my curves, we decided longer was better, and I specified that I wanted something made out of 'real' material- nothing petroleum based (although now, looking back at that stipulation, I suppose anything made before the '40s wouldn't be...) Regardless, we were excited.

The Feminist Bride: Hair

My normal beef with Hair isn't nearly enough to write a full length musical about- but since my engagement began, I've written enough mental songs about it to score an entire symphony.

Generally, I wear my 'do short. Pixie or bob, small bangs- close enough to my scalp to fit snugly under my signature beret and bike helmet combo. I've even rocked a spike look before- during a period my younger sister dubbed my 'lesbian phase'. Basically, I've gotten hair cuts that serve the purpose of being low-maintainance, fun, and passable on the professional scale.

I never thought that I would sacrifice my usual practical mix of form and function for a one day event. Until I became engaged. My hair was, I kid you not, the third thing I thought about after he said yes. The vain bride inside me vowed to not cut it until the wedding- in the hopes that I'd be able to make something out of it come the big day.

The Feminist Bride: Online

My internet has taken on a life of its own.

At my first search of 'engagement rings', it was over. I should have know that it would trigger an onslaught of well thought out advertisements perfectly aimed at my heart's desire.

Rings. Dresses. Wedding Labels. Invitations. Caterers in my area- the list goes on.

I couldn't turn on my computer without an overwhelmingly accurate bombardment of  advertising. Before I could even suggest that I might want to learn about shops in my area, they had lists for me.

The Feminist Bride: The Ring

I am not a Gollumn- but it when it came to thinking about a ring, I became just as bad as any of the creatures in Lord of the Rings. It was an instant case of my precious.

When I decided to ask my boyfriend to marry me, I did what any man would have done- I went out and got a ring. I found one that fit within my ethical framework. It hand crafted by a local craftsperson from metals I could stand behind. It was beautiful, practical, symbolic, and it wasn't going to cost us our first born child. I did what I would have wanted someone to do for me- at least that's what I thought.

Once I my proposal was accepted, I did what any bride to be would have done- I began to tell people about our engagement. I told everyone I could think of that we were engaged, and there first question was always- can I see the ring?


Now- if you recall, I proposed. I got him the ring. So every time I was confronted with the question- can I see your ring- I had the same obvious answer- I don't have one. For the first week I felt fine about my bare naked ring finger. I was a feminist- and I was standing up for female proposers everywhere- why did I need a ring?, I thought.
But as Christmas started to loom, and the onslaught of holiday family pressure mounted- I began to panic.

Questions like What will the relatives think? and Will they judge my new fiance because he didn't get me a ring? began to ring in my ears. And so, with a week to spare before Christmas eve, my partner (probably sensitive to my distress) handed me his mother's sweet-16 ring, which, mind you, had a very small, but noticeable diamond. In giving me this ring, it was not a gesture of- this ring is going to be your wedding ring, it was more of a- wear this and see if you like it- or a- I had this in a drawer and thought you might want to wear it type of gesture.

And- I was grateful. I slipped the slightly too large ring with the slightly too small diamond onto my finger. Relief was noticeable. So was the fact that the ring was too big. So, in order to beef up the amount of metal on my finger, and to keep his mothers ring from slipping from my slender fingers, I added my grandmother's gold wedding band for good measure. With a sweet sixteen ring from the 60s and a wedding band from another wedding on my ring finger, I marched into the Christmas cocktail parties.

However, my input subsitutionism only made matters worse. I was stuck explaining the small diamond and the wedding band from another wedding (as if a small diamond or a grandmother's wedding band were something to be ashamed of). And, to make matters worse, people who hadn't seen me, assumed I was already married, as I was double banded. At every turn I was confronted with the social expectation of what I should have on my finger- and from experience, De Beers has done an excellent job of convincing every American, that if you don't have a big new diamond on your finger- your engagement should be questioned.

After enough comments and enough cocktail parties, even I began to question myself. Thoughts like- I should just go out and buy myself a diamond- began to appear in my head. By the end of the holidays, I was compulsively googling diamond rings and trying to figure out how I could justify the purchase of such a rock to the ethical part of my brain.

Come the New Year, I was so exhausted by the whole ring diamond thought train, I was ready to give up. When a thought occurred to me. Why don't I just ask my new fiance to get me a ring?

Honestly, since I was the one who proposed, I thought I wouldn't get a ring until we were married. I mean, the guy doesn't ever get a ring until the wedding. However, when I proposed I clearly had NO idea of how deep the cultural expectations of engagement rings are in this country.

When I finally told my fiance that I couldn't take it anymore, and asked if he could buy me a ring- he laughed. I think he jokingly said something like you were such a feminist, so hardcore, and now look at you before hugging me and saying of course. My dry reply was probably something like being a feminist means be able to determine when you want to acquiesce to cultural norms. 

So he got me a ring. We went back to the house of the ring maker who made his ring, and now I have a matching band, made out of the same piece of metal- and when I slipped it on, I knew I had made the right choice.

The Feminist Bride: A bride to be

In the two months following my proposal, I have learned enough about the American wedding phenomenon to last me two lifetimes. With luck, this is the first, last, and only time I'll need to be a bride-to-be.

For those of you who haven't had the good fortune to become a bride in training, the psychology runs deep. Social training begins at a young age. The expectation of the proposal, the engagement, the ring, the dress etc, are all set before the story begins. Indeed, now that I'm a bride-to-be, I'm swimming in the expectations I've created and been coerced into over a lifetime.

Alongside many latent psuedo-protestant christian values (to be discussed later), my mind has been taken over by a deadly trilogy of societal norms. It is a lethal cocktail of one part Disney heroines, one part Martha Stewart, and one part 1950s Betty Crocker house wife fantasy.

Since becoming a bride-to-be, I have begun to dream of dresses that look like badly iced cupcakes, a million and one ways to gussy up ball jars, and the inescapable wedding registry gift: a brightly colored Kitchen-Aid mixer.

Since when did I want to wear something that was so ruffly I feel like I'm swimming in a pool of whipped cream? Or turn a thousand ball jars into a wedding alter? Or acquire a kitchen implement that is so heavy no one in gods name wants to pull it out of the closet?

Answer: Since the American wedding industry crept into my head and stole my brain. Out with my well formulated counter-cultural values- in with the dreams of an American girl so steeped in the wedding phenomenon she has forgotten who she really is.

Stay tuned for more adventures of The Feminist Bride and the search for a meaningful wedding.

The Feminist Bride: Engagement

I'm a 28 year old white, upper-middle class American female, trained by Walt Disney and Cosmo and Seventeen Magazine. Since I have been able to understand what a wedding was, I have fantasized about how the man would propose. Where it would happen, how he would kneel, how I would act surprised but shyly confident beneath my blush. As a feminist I suppose I should be embarrassed about these confessions, but when it comes down to it, fantasies of this type are common. I am not at all different than any other woman I know. I don't know another woman my age who hasn't envisioned how her engagement would transpire. Ready to say yes or shake her head in reply.

Before I decided that I was ready to marry I hadn't the slightest idea of how deep my pre-conceptions of engagement were. It was not until I decided I was ready to wed that I discovered how thoroughly my expectations (and everyone else around me) were already imbedded in my American cultural soul.

Six weeks ago I flipped my socio-cultural norms on their head. I kneeled down on a beach in California, and asked my boyfriend for his hand in marriage. 

Since that day I have come to understand that engagement is actually the last bastion of cultural misogyny.

A personal example: How many women in your life do you know who asked their partners to marry them?

Lesbians aside, your answer should be apparent. We are few.

And why- is it that it's difficult to be the one who asks? Is it that we are too weak or indecisive to execute? Is it because we don't know his ring size? No. No. and No. The only reason we as women allow ourselves to continue the gender biased process of a traditional engagement is because society hasn't let this last stand go.

True discrimination happens when something is so ingrained in society that no one notices it. Indeed, I myself hadn't realized I too expected the man to propose until when cleaning the house a few years ago, my boyfriend approached me (then on a ladder 8 ft in the air, in my filthiest clothes, hair full of cobwebs) with a small blue velvet ring box. My mind immediately jumped to Oh No! Not Here! He can't propose to me like this! It was at that moment I realized my assumptions. I had never stopped to consider that I might be the one to pop the question.

Similarly, it occurred to very few of our friends that in our case, my proposal was the perfect and most logical way for this to transpire. He had already told everyone he was ready to marry- he was just waiting for me. So when I became ready- I had to reevaluate my position on engagement. It didn't make much sense for me to tell him that I was ready, and for him subsequently to propose- where's the mystery, the magic, and the surprise in that?

So I set to planning. I created my fantasy of a proposal. There was a beach, a sunset, a hand crafted ring from a local artisan.  And in the end, my proposal was accepted, and heartily I might add. It didn't faze him in the least that I had been the one to ask. I'm adding the comfortability with flipped gender norms to the many reasons I'm grateful for my groom to be.

And to all you ladies out there- here's an encouragement: Proposing was one of the most empowering actions I've ever taken. And, as a bonus, I got to create the proposal that I had always dreamed of.

They Pepper Sprayed MY Students!

In case you haven't turned on a radio or television or the internet in 3 days: peacefully protesting students at UC Davis were dispassionately pepper sprayed at close range. It was video taped by phone and the video went viral. (It may be one of the most watched videos of the year on you-tube.) The event is a media disaster for UC Davis linking it as never before to police brutality and the squelching of free speech on campus.

Here is Ellie, a sophomore in the Sustainable Agriculture and Food Systems major, who, together with former students of mine, was pepper-sprayed last Friday. Their action speaks to the power of the type emancipatory education that is being taught in SAFS. Civil engagement is one of the learning outcomes planned into the major, if this isn't civil engagement... I don't know what is!?



Here are some photos taken by my friend, Chris J Kim of the student General Assembly today where Chancellor Katehi attempted to make amends- unsuccessfully- with students.

Chancellor Katehi

Monday 11.21.11 General Assembly, UC Davis by Michele Tobias