being present

still means having a past. When white people say "I didn't own any slaves" or "I wasn't a racist legislator," I don't doubt that that's a true statement, but it doesn't change the fact that they don't have to deal with the consequences of those acts and others do. I once thought that power was the ability to say something, not mean it, not to be held accountable for it, and then be applauded for it (re: Columbia bureaucracy), but now I'm thinking power stretches beyond generations. Decades of discriminatory legislation and racism don't undo themselves just because they are discontinued (if they are, in fact, discontinued).

The anniversary of the Battle of Little Big Horn (otherwise known as Custer's Last Stand) is tomorrow. I don't think we should hold eternal grudges or get caught in perpetual reminiscing and regretting, but I do think that we should seriously consider how past actions affect present lives. Are we responsible for our ancestor's actions? Why must the oppressed (oof, loaded word) be responsible for dealing with the actions of their ancestor's oppressors?

On a lighter note, being present also means being present. I'm finding that when you wake up really early in the morning, say, 5:45 a.m., you can really only focus on what you're doing at the moment. I had an intense towel folding session yesterday morning.

Also, I'm getting to know my way around the reservation and it only gets more beautiful. The sun is a brilliant shock whenever I walk outside. I'm learning how to navigate dirt roads with large vehicles. The other night, a lightning storm that looked like flashing lights outside the window woke me up. I saw what looked like clouds funneling into a tree yesterday. And heard a country rendition of Mercy Me's I Can Only Imagine at the Christian coffee shop down the road. I made fry bread. And now I'm going to pick up some buffalo meat from the tribe's buffalo herd. Wooo!

Finally, if anyone is interested, you CAN actually write to me while I'm here (and I'll be here for a while, so please do!). You can send mail/packages to:

Jamie Chen
c/o Re-Member
P.O. Box 5054
Pine Ridge, SD 57770

:D

Vast

When I said "vast future," I meant that literally. The land here is endless. They just ended a nine-year drought, so the hills are greener than ever, and it is gorgeous. I can't stop looking at the sky!

So I have arrived, no mishaps, took a drive through the Badlands and met with the Executive Director of Re-Member about what I'll actually be doing here. Tomorrow the fun begins: I'll be meeting in the morning with a woman who is helping to coordinate a housing summit, and making some rounds to some other community advocates.

Wake up times are 5:30 a.m. But the sunrise will be worth it.

More interesting things to come... just wanted to say I've successfully escaped the east coast and am living on Lakota land, sharing space with buffalo, coyotes, and lots of eager volunteers. !!

we live in a beautiful world

In the rear-view mirror suddenly
I saw the bulk of the Beauvais Cathedral;
great things dwell in small ones
for a moment.

[Auto Mirror, Adam Zagajewski]

After fleeing the city in a small Cruiser packed with my college room in boxes and two very accommodating people, I feel like I am standing in a timestop, New York City looming like a patient, glowing vibration behind me and vast, unknown expanses before me.

I wrote this last summer, when I was caught in a much smaller world of travel between Washington Heights, Morningside Heights, east Chinatown, and occasional romps in other boroughs:

I love this city, and I love that it seems to take on its own character regardless of the people who build it and inhabit it and sweat through it and scrub its concrete and drown themselves in its supply of alcohol. I look up, see a view, and I think the city is quietly showing itself off. Yes, this is who I am, you almost forgot, didn’t you. I will push many of you away, to more peaceful suburban lifestyles, to space, to comfort, and then you will forget, but I will stay here, throw my buildings into the air, allow these metal vehicles to hurtle through my underbelly a thousand times a day.

And now I stand with this love behind me, facing this vague future armed with ideals, a sense of seeking poetry, and some mad paper writing skillz. I don't doubt that I'll find disillusionment and loneliness, but something is compelling me to go, to fail, to see, to learn what caring means. They say there are 360 days of sunshine a year in South Dakota. I'll find something on those bleached plains, underneath stars I can actually see.

This is just to say, I have left New York after four tumultuous years, and will be on the Pine Ridge reservation in South Dakota from June 21st through August 27th. I'll be interning at an organization called Re-Member (www.re-member.org), helping them with advocacy campaigns and youth outreach. On September 1st, I will be taking off for Lima, Peru, from which I will make my way to Chile, home of Pablo Neruda, the southernmost vineyard in the world, and penguins. Hopefully I'll be able to document some of my travels and thoughts in this blog, so follow at will. I don't doubt that there will be some random musings that will make it in here as well.

To those of you in New York that I was not able to say goodbye to, I have not and will not forget you; send me your address if you want a postcard! Take care of the city while I am gone. To those of you in Maryland, I'd love to see you before I leave on the 21st (and send me your addresses also).