United States of Jesusland

I've been working on grad school essays for divinity school applications recently. If we're close (or even if we're not that close) I've probably confessed my grad school aspirations to you recently. If not, surprise! No, I'm not thinking of going for a masters in political science, or journalism, or that old stand by anthropology, but an MDiv -- the degree ministers get, eventhough I was raised agnostic and practice right now with a nonpastoral faith community. I know -- I think it's a little crazy too, but also exciting.

In writing those essays and trying to explain why I'm interested in divinity school, I've been surprised to find myself going back to that red-blue map that was so prevalent after the 2004 election and its juxtaposition with the far more powerful purple map. The most recent presidential elections have come at pivotal times in my life -- senior year of high school, when I was just old enough to vote, and my senior year of college, when I was a burned out organizer with little hope that Bush would be defeated. Throughout my life, whenever I would have an experience of an arch conservative throwing down the Bibe, I'd immediately have a strong desire to be able throw it back. I felt it during those elections acutely. But I was dumb about the Bible. (I'm only slightly less dumb about it now.)

After both elections I was deeply disturbed and saddened by the reality of and emphasis on divisions in America -- between Democrats and Republicans, between Christians and non-Christians, between the right and the left. Wanting to be able to better speak to those divisions is probably one of the reasons I want to go to seminary. I still want to be able to respond when neocons quote the Bible, but now its less about wanting to throw it back and more about wanting to pick it up, open it, point, and say something knowledgable and constructive.

So more and more I'm excited by people and resources that blur those boundaries and aren't fearful about stealing back and forth across supposed fronts in the "Culture Wars" (is it possible to be a CO in those wars?) I've been reading Shane Claiborne's book, and today stumbled upon a really exciting blog, Revolution in Jesusland, which follows two lefties as they explore the progressive evangelical movement across the US. I plan to add it to the roster of blogs I lurk on -- hopefully the knitting blogs wont mind. I suggest you check it out.

(Thanks to Martin for lifting up the blog on QuakerQuaker.org)

Disappearing Philadelphia

Sometimes I imagine Philadelphia as a sleeping giant. This is less about the Next-Great-City thing than it is about being fascinated by broke down old buildings and forgotten corners.

After decades of minimal development, so much of the city is still 18th and 19th century low rise, even downtown. The skyscrapers cluster together mostly west of City Hall and its not uncommon for the first floors of older structures to be in use while the floors above them are abandoned -- both in poorer neighborhoods and in some the older, ostensibly redeveloped eastern parts of the city.

But that's changing. There are a lot of sky scrapers in the works, and even though considerable care sometimes goes in to converting older buildings in to businesses, restaurants, boutiques, condos etc., I wouldn't be surprised if many are lost to the grinding wheels of development and the city looks radically different in ten years. So I'm going to start documenting forgotten corners and abandoned buildings with my point and shoot digital camera.

Not because their destruction is imminent, but because I think they may have something to teach me/us. I am not sure that it's an all important lesson -- as much as I am fascinated by decay, I also try not fetishize it. And I'd definitely rather buildings be used and people have quality housing and places to work than the city be full of empty spooky structures. So maybe its a sad quiet but not uncommon lesson about human fickleness, change and values through architecture.

In this post: 1) the Valu Plus Store/palace at Chestnut and Juniper 2) The empty Art Deco-ish building on the first block of south 11th just past the CVS 3) cobblestones and dumpsters on Clover Street, 13th between Market and Chestnut.

Settling in and stocking up

I was going to write a post about the rediculous anarchist movie that I got from Neflix earlier this week, but seeing as how it was released in 2002 I suspect it's not news to anyone but me. You should go look at the link and maybe even Netflix it yourself, though -- I really think it wants to be a CIA-funded after school special.

So instead, I will sing the praises of my current favorite small book publisher: South End Press. They're a nonprofit collective based in Boston that's been majority women for decades and at least 50% people of color since the 90's. And damned if they don't keep publishing books that I absolutely need to read about the nonprofit industrial complex, gender, the media, and sustainability. Most recently its Manifestos on the Future of Food and Seed, and I'm excited about the forthcoming A Do-It-Ourselves Guide For Sustainable City Living too.

I think fall is going to be brief here in Philly, and daylight savings a week ago reminded me why I've never liked November. Allowing myself to be liberal with purchases from South End's inventory has been part of the prepping for winter that I am now seriously engaged in. Plastic is going up on the drafty double hung windows, the war with the mice has begun in earnest, and I'm brainstorming ways to stay sane in the colder, darker months. Hopefully there'll be lots of cooking with friends, movie watching, pot lucks and art projects. Clearly I've given in the LLBean/Landsend etc. admonishment to "stock up!", only instead of ribbed turtlenecks I've been accumulating books and yarn for knitting projects (both from my new favorite website, and from torn apart old sweaters). This winter I will be serious about self care. Really.

In the mean time I hope to soak up as much as I can of fall's warm colors while they last even if they come in the form of fabulous global warming sunsets.

Finally, Finally Fall

We had the hottest October on record here in the City of Philadelphia, and there was something so unnatural about wanting to wear short sleeves to Peoplehood. Normally the crisp autumnal rustle of October is my favorite time of year, culminating in Halloween (my appreciation for which has changed over the years), but I think I may need to reconsider November as my new favorite month: the balmy temperatures seem to have finally given way to cool nights and appropriate fall foliage.

The weird whether has me marveling how quick people are to chock something up to climate change these days. It's not just for hippies and environmentalists anymore. I think we've reached a critical mass where the differences from even a few years ago are obvious to everyday people -- CNN is even on the bandwagon with its "Planet in Peril!" feature online (and presumably on TV). Having lived in the same ecosystem basically my whole life, I'm fairly certain I see changes: hotter autumns, later snow, less crickets and lightning bugs, less summer thunderstorms.

I found a video by way of a Quaker blog today that is a very short, concise argument for why we should take action on climate change. If the profile on YouTube is true, its part of a series of videos by a high school science teacher about climate change. It's pretty interesting, though the director seems to think his original video -- "The Most Terrifying Video You Will Ever See" -- was flawed and demanded follow up (I'm not sure I see the flaw).

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Having lived so much of my life on an academic calendar, fall always means new beginnings and a fresh start: the chance to try on new or recycled pieces of identity. I inevitably start going to meeting again -- I think I've really only seen the inside of Central Phila monthly meeting in October for the whole time I've lived in Philly -- and consider big projects that get abandoned well before February's icy darkness. I think the "big projects" model might be one bad pattern I'm ready to lay down in my 25th year (which seems like as good a time as any to lay down bad patterns), so instead I'm considering a new fall theme: take it one step at a time, and brainstorm practical ways to survive the winter. Unraveling sweaters to recycle for yarn has been a good metaphor for the former: often I can't see more than one stich ahead when cutting the seams, and the next stitch reveals itself only when the one before it has been cut.

A big piece of my life recently has been preparing, or procrastinating on preparing, for the GREs. In big projects mode, I started out with a goal to do three math and one or two verbal sections a week to leave time to review the many mathmatical factoids I have starred (starred means "news to me!"). That hasn't totally happened, though I"m feeling surprisingly unstressed about the test on Saturday and I've been flashing back to that 80's movie "The Labrynth," which has David Bowie in scary spandex and which I watched a lot when I was young, and the heroine's oft-repeated "You have no power over me!"

Feeling like I needed to study rather than hang out with my friends made me reconsider whether or not I'm ready to re-don a familiar old pattern: school. I think I need more time to consider how I can take that tool up again but in a new way.

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In closing and in other news, I'm going to try to be disciplined (big project alert!) and post here once a week at minimum. I'm sure that will make all of my regulars happy -- all three of you. And it will be good writing practice for me too. If I seem to devolve into media analysis, its because I'm stumped for ideas.

PS thanks to Adam for the picture! Are you sleeping?