Entries Tagged 'causes and people doing cool things about them' ↓

In the elusive pursuit of the marathon conquest, Jordan and I are somewhere between ‘is-that-a-glimmer-of-light-on-the-dark-dark-horizon-or-is-that-a-drop-of-sweat-on-my-eye-glasses?’ and ‘we’re-doing-this-and-it’s-going-to-be-awesome.’

Jordan is closer to the latter sentiment and I’m kinda checking out my sweaty glasses.

But as of today, we are now running 12 minutes at time/walk 1 minute/4xs in a row. This is huge. Although, it doesn’t quite measure 10km on a roadway, (and yup, we’re signed up to run 42km continuously),  it measures miles upon miles of progress in our 8 months of heaving our butts of our butt-enticing couch, putting our books down and getting outside. There were times when I thought I was going to have an asthma attack after running 2 minutes. And I’m only being half-dramatic. I literally would cough & cough and feel my throat turn into the size of a cocktail straw and who the heck can drink out of those things anyway? I remember asking Jordan tersely, “time?” every 5 seconds, not having the breath or gusto to say out loud a full polite sentence such as: “Jordan, could you please tell me the time we have left on the stopwatch, thanks, baby!”

Nope!  He’d get an angry or breathless or tired or tense one word command: “time?” I thought that by willing the 2.5 minutes to be over, it would be.

It really doesn’t work that way.

And I’m so grateful to find that out.

I really really hoped training for a marathon would increase my lung capacity and help me drop a few pounds from my huggable hips but I had no idea I’d be growing some patience, and heck, even compassion for my annoying non-running running self. I now try to challenge myself not to ask Jordan what time is left on the stopwatch anymore, unless of course we’re going up hill, then I ask every 2 seconds-  I mean, I’m not superhuman.

The fact that we’re running 12 minutes at a time feels like a great accomplishment. One I wouldn’t think was possible 8 months ago. So, maybe other things are possible too, like completing 5 hours of running, even if it’s 12 minutes at a time.

And of course with committing to run 42km, we’ve also committed to raise $13 000 for the Arthritis Society. And we’re at 23% of our goal right now! Thanks largely to friends, family members and workplace families. (I can’t say how many times I feel like Michael Scott as I learn to run and fundraise) haha.  But we definitely need help raising the last 10-grand.

And holy crap, $10 000 seems like a HUGE number, (did someone say recession?) but so did the number 12 (did someone say never-been-able-to-run-in-my-life?) when it came to running it in minutes. And the number 12 is not that bad, then maybe the number 10 000 ain’t either especially if you’ve got some fun events planned.

And we do!

Thanks to the White Stripes and B-side entertainment!

Our first *big* fundraiser is on March 27th (1:30pm) at Pacific Cinematheque theatre on 1131 Howe Street in Vancouver… a screening of the White Stripes Under The Great White Northern Lights documentary. Expect 100% rock n roll with a good chance of a of scissor kick or two.

We’ve even got a PG rating from Consumer Protection BC ready to post, some swirly candy and tickets!  You can get a ticket or three for 10 bucks a pop at Zulu Records on West 4th Ave.

The event is set to rock.

All we need is you.

geezus jupiter jumpin’ pie.

There have been a lot of Olympic moments that have peeled back the concrete of the city to reveal the the feeling of these nonsensical words underneath.

A little shazam zoop de kawow.

It’s all so heartbreakingly beautiful, inspiring  and eye opening. How can one athlete’s moment of glory be another’s quick slippery fall? How can one event that celebrates unity and collectively reaching past our strangeness be a sword cutting a swift path to the periphery for those who find themselves already marginalized. What’s worse than not feeling a part of the Olympics especially when the Olympics are in your city?

Not feeling a part of life at all.

About five minutes after arriving in front of the Carnegie Community Centre for the Memorial March for Murdered and Missing Women I was handed a picture of a woman who has been missing for over 20 years. Her sister was being interviewed by various news people. The reporters formed a circle around her with their heads bent, making respectful notes. The sister of Gail Williams let tears roll down her cheeks as she spoke. I found it so brave for both the reporters and her to be asking and answering questions. Something that hasn’t been done enough for the over 60 missing women in Vancouver and 3000 across Canada.

I’ve had what I would call a few Olympic moments and they came from groups and events I would never expect them to come from. While crammed too close for comfort in front of the steps of the Carnegie Community Centre I had one of those moments. As women were drumming and chanting on the steps, setting a safe space for the families to come out and start the march, I saw two eagles soar and circle above where they sang. I heard gasps in the crowd and a woman held an eagle feather up to the sky and the drummers chanted with their whole eyes, whole beings tilted upwards. And a thought entered my chest like an envelope. I pulled back the sticky part and a word slipped out: peace. What if acknowledging what we have not acknowledged before can bring peace. Eagle wings cutting through hypocrisy and bureaucracy and systems that have been set in place long ago that have never quite worked. We need a separate public inquiry into the cases of these murdered and missing women outside these systems.

We need to have at least that.

I felt touched to stand in such a large crowd of people honouring the families’ ongoing grief and suffering as well as our nation’s.  To stand next to elders, drummers, journalists, college students, tourists, neighbours, parents, politicians, concerned citizens, teachers all listening to the names of these women who have gone nameless for too long. That’s all I did; I listened. I got my recorder out for some interviews and then I lost my nerve. I didn’t know what to ask. How have you coped? What do you want seen done? What can the average citizen do?  I think I know those answers. You have to. Carry on. Justice. No more murdered or missing women. No more murdered or missing anybody. Demand a separate inquiry.  Care. Call attention to this. Don’t be apathetic. Don’t get overwhelmed.

So, my second olympic moment (first one was seeing Shane Koyczan on my friend’s tv do spoken word during the opening ceremonies) was seeing two eagles soar high above us all with maybe a view point we don’t get to see too often. That on that day, Valentine’s, The Chinese New Year, The Memorial March for Murdered and Missing Women, that on that day we were all marching for peace.

Georgian President Mikheil Saakashvili says he is touched by Canadian condolences.

On my walk home last night I spotted Nodar Kumaritashvili’s name, the 21 year-old Luge athlete who died on February 12th, up in lights.

Specifically, lit up along an apartment’s balcony and I thought, we can all do this!

Earlier in the evening I was noticing all the different Canadian flags lit up on apartment balconies, what if we put Nodar Kumaritashvili’s name in our windows? In lights, in writing, in a poster, whatever, to really show that the games truly are dedicated to him and that Canadians, although celebrating the Olympics, are mourning his loss.

There will be a lot of images coming out of the next two weeks and I wanted to share a few that I see almost everyday in my neighbourhood.

They really make me stop and think.

I’m not sure which group or artist or non-profit to attribute the posters to or what they were made to represent in the first place.

But I find it bone-chilling because every time I see them I think of the missing women, largely aboriginal whose lives ended on “The Highway of Tears”.

In Metro Vancouver 45% of homeless women are aboriginal. According to an article in Megaphone, Vancouver’s Street paper, the Vancouver Police Department still lists 39 women as missing from the area.

The last thing I want is to make you or anyone feel bad.  I’m just looking to keep their stories in our minds. In a way it’s weird for me to write about it as a very privileged white woman living a few blocks away from  a Pottery Barn and designer chocolate shop.

But in another way, it’s not weird at all, actually it’s weird not to write about it. Not to notice it happening, not to make visible the invisible injustices… like the fact I’m very much alive in my bright pink coat next to black and white faceless posters that may represent people no longer with us, some of whom we as a society failed to notice were gone.

The posters are on trash bins which is like a swift rush of cold air flying through a stale room.  Just who (not what) are we discarding with our current policies?

I wrote to my MLA and MP about arts cuts, library freezes, student loans, water fountains and homelessness. My next letter is about an independent inquiry into the cases of these missing women.

You can sign a petition here.

And on Valentine’s Day,  starting on the corner of Main and Hastings, there will be a memorial march at noon.  Which gives everyone plenty of time to take in the Chinese New Year parade just a few blocks over beginning at 9:30am.

Witnessing the march just may be the most loving and thoughtful thing I have ever done on Valentine’s day.

My partner in crime, love, housing and life recently bought me a little treat. A way to say, ‘hey you had a tough week, now look for another job and eat cake’.

(There are good, delicious reasons I’m marrying him!)

And at about 10am the next day I decided to take him up on his offer and took a break from doing up yet another resume and  got out the wee bomb of a cake.

Notice my resume in the background with a very peculiar screen saver...that's Sean Connery from the movie Zardoz.

Note: sean connery's crotch and the chocolate cake, mhm, can mean only one thing: it's monday morning resume blitz time.

I won’t  lie. I ate that cake up in about 3 minutes and felt special to boot. I think I even got that resume finished by noon.  So no matter what your doctor or diabetes chart tells ya, sometimes a little something baked can pack some power.

Just take artist Allison Chamber’s Monster Cookie series.  Her cookies in the likeness of Canadian politicians are delicious and will move you to protest, write a letter or heck, send Harper or Campbell one of her cookies as a treat.

I can’t be the only wannabe do-gooder eating sugar at 10am.

And as a part of Mouth 2 Mouth’s Baking and Politics show, we got to interview Allison Chambers about where her cookies have been and where they just may go.

Eat up, er, listen up, either way it tastes good!

Radha’s Vegan Bake Sale for Haiti was delicious and spiritually nutritious. A combo the yoga & eatery seems to serve up on a regular basis.

I ordered the soup. That's oregano oil on top, mmmm.

It was my first time in the space and it was packed. I’m not sure if it was because it was a special occasion but the feel in the room was exactly what I first came to Vancouver for: possibility and warmth mixed with a devilish sense of fun and irreverence.

A piano player sat down next to our table and made what looked like a very charming (aka old) piano sing like it was Etta James.

Now, I have to be honest, I didn’t want to get  my hopes up for the baked goods. I mean the night felt incredible enough as is but I was to become shocked by my own shortcomings when I tasted what must be love in a paper baking cup.

the cupcake that can change the world

This cupcake was so moist and sweet and like a first kiss with a new boyfriend that I had to loosen my scarf.  You see, I love baking and a few years back dabbled in veganism (I’m vegetarian now) and I can remember my partner liking everything I made except baking:  brownies: dry and crumbly; cookies: tasted like bran flakes with honey, carob soy chocolate banana pie: tasted like fake chocolate pudding with fruit. The only thing I could get some praise for was apple crisp and yah, that’s delicious, but c’mon, it’s apple crisp. It’s almost so good for you it could be breakfast and where’s the treat in that?

Our table had a cupcake, square, and three cookies to choose from.

Out of a yummy assortment of baked goods, our table voted the vanilla cupcake with the coconut icing the best treat we have tasted in a long time. Not just out of the goodies present, but out of all goodies ever made by people. (Who knows what cats can come up with).

Although hard, I will stop talking about the vanilla cupcake that I’m sure Zeus would have included in his clay colliseum in Clash of the Titans and get to the money part. Bongo roll… a preliminary estimate of the vegan bakesale profits was a cool $3000 and with government matching could jump to six grand. That total is from vegan rice krispie squares, vegan cookies and vegan cake alone. Wow! And no apple crisp in sight.

But by far the sweetest treat of the night came from one woman and her guitar.

So many cute vegan-friendly people were sitting on the floor holding hands while Frazey Ford sang to us in a voice that could chill a ghost and warm a soul.

I couldn’t believe I was eating soup and cookies while she sang just a few feet in front of me!

Yup, lately I almost forgot the original reasons I wanted to come to Vancouver -but when Frazey Ford sang and joked about being a product of dysfunctional hippy parents, they all came flowing back, one sweet reason at a time.

February 4th, be a part of it!

It’s incredible how many people are coming together to raise money for Haiti. Events such as Radha’s Vegan Bake Sale with Musical Performance by Frazey Ford to Ben Harper auctioning off a White Fender Strat to local elementary, middle and high school kids throwing their energies together and pulling off well over $100 000 worth of hard earned funds for the cause.

CBC, CTV and Global’s 3-network -fundraising-bonanza raised 16 million dollars which will be government-matched and text donations have brought in over $120 000 and counting, with the average text worth 5 bucks.

Even more staggering than the outpouring of help and funds in such a short period of time is the shock of the Earthquake itself. Why Haiti? Why again?

What is incredible is the amount of people who are not letting their coats get snagged on the Why and are already out the door figuring out the How. Take Team Jericho for instance. Six young BC Sikhs are in Haiti helping to serve thousands of daily meals and are blogging about their experiences. These teams of relief workers are the second phase of what the Sikh community has done so far in the face of this sudden tragedy. The first thing was to raise $1.5 million dollars in a week. (And implement a successful toy and school supplies drive).

Another incredible thing is how on the micro-local level, from your neighbour to the person you see on the bus everyday, people are talking about Haiti- about how they can help – not just about how terrible the situation is. That’s a big shift to go from feeling stunned still to feeling like we can do something. Whether that is a bake or craft sale, donating blood or supplies, supporting relief workers, and sending cash to government-matching organizations like the Red Cross.

It’s an incredible time for this city, for better or worse, we are about to host the Olympics – an event that brings together the very ideals of  discipline, strength and unity. I’m so happy to be hearing as much about Haiti as I am about the games.

Vancouver has a lot of problems but two of them aren’t apathy or lack of heart.

I stopped by the Carnegie Centre Saturday afternoon to ask MP Libby Davies a few questions for an upcoming M2M show.  Davies was on day 6 of a planned hunger strike organized by The Impact on Community Coalition. Today she passed the wooden spoon along to the 56th Vancouver participant in this stunning protest.

The whole point of getting  key people to go hungry for a week is to bring attention to how much Vancouverites and Canadians care about homelessness and want political action to eradicate it. A National Housing Strategy for one. Compassion and understanding for another.

I haven’t gone longer than 6 hours without eating in my entire life and I have never been forced to sleep outside.

I’ll think about that the next time I pass someone with a cardboard sign outside of Shoppers.  Even just to acknowledge their/our plight.

Here’s an excerpt from the interview with MP Libby Davies. You can hear the full interview in an upcoming M2M show on CJSF 90.1fm.

Two days ago I completed my biannual pilgrimage to the Real Canadian Superstore.  After staring dazed at the overhead lights, accidentally knocking into store displays and people alike, gaping wide-eyed and wide-mouthed at all the available stuff, I exited the huge building with a squeaky cart full of deals: crock pot on sale, check; dried beans and lentils, check; exact-brand socks and shampoo, check; tinfoil, toilet paper, squash, cans of tomatoe paste, and a huge vat of refillable hand soap, check, check, check.

Now  I’m usually  happy to get out of such a big store with my life, my close relationships still intact and no hidden super packs of whatever mini-chocolate bar I think will bring me closer to God  late at night.  And I usually don’t think beyond these towering personal accomplishments.

Well, that is, until two days ago.

At the trunk of the Co-operative Auto Network car we rented for our  mission, I was approached by a woman in an oversized black and red ski jacket.  Just as I was heaving a reuseable bag full of fresh, heavy produce into the trunk, she asked:

“Excuse me, could I please return your cart for you?”

I was startled by the gentleness of her request, by the incredible disparity between my coupon-calculated $220 worth of purchases and her empty hands which she wrung softly in front of her.

“I’m really hungry,” she said.

It takes a lot of guts to ask people for things -especially money-  I know, because I’m currently fundraising for The Arthritis Society. And I can’t even imagine the guts it takes to be that polite and kind to someone putting $220 worth of stuff into a trunk of a car while you are hungry, homeless and forced to beg. I was struck just as dumb as I was in the flourescent lights just moments before in the store, trying to decide between cold-wash laundry detergent and the go-green stuff.  I replied in a very loud and upbeat, “of course you can have the cart!” as though I was a cheerleader for a high school football team and she just gained a few yards rather than a tired, privileged shopper standing in front of a marginalized woman in a large, emptying parking lot.

Then she said something that made me wish I had bought something more easily edible then the squash, onions and cabbage.

“Can I help you load your groceries?”

After living in Burnaby for over a year and in Vancouver for six months, being approached for a shopping cart, change, food, cigarettes, cans, bottles and bus tickets is actually (and sadly) commonplace.   There’s a good reason the UN declared homelessness in Canada a ‘national emergency.’ Because it is.

With all the letter-writing, petitions, rallies, and even Jean Swanson’s columns in the Vancouver Sun, homelessness continues to rise.  With numbers jumping to 10 500 people in BC alone.

Can I help you load your groceries?

She wanted to earn that dollar. (In a way I’ve never had to). Like all of us, after our basic necessities are met, shelter food love, we want to feel useful. And I struggle with feeling useful but not with getting a roof over my head. I struggle with finding regular work but not with making dinner.

Long after the woman thanked me (!) and had left with the cart, I sat in the car with my mountain of stuff spilling out of the trunk and into the backseat behind me. Deciding on which pink re-useable razor to buy was replaying in my mind. Those were some of the decisions I had made that night. Quite different from the ones the woman who approached me was making. Where to walk to next? Where to find something to eat? Where to be safe?

I was just awake enough post mega-store daze to realize there was nothing different between this woman and myself save for circumstances. And that there was no reason why I got to go home to a bed and she didn’t. Having a place to go should be a right for the both of us and for all of us.

I can’t count how many interactions I’ve had with people who are homeless that gives me a pang of guilt (when I say no) a shot of worry when I give change or bus tickets, (is this actually helping the person?), or  a hit of sorrow when someone carting a huge array of recyclables moves out of the way so I can easily pass them on the sidewalk. But two days ago something deeper happened.

And that something deeper has happened to a lot of Vancouver and BC residents, Jean Swanson for one. Am Johal for another.

The 2010 Homelessness Hunger Strike Relay began on December 29th, 2009 and is ongoing until June 2010.  Every week participants who have fasted for seven days pass the wooden spoon to a new group of people who continue the hunger strike for the  next week. You can support the ‘passing of the wooden spoon’ this Sunday at noon at the north side of the Vancouver Art Gallery in front of the Olympic clock.

MP Libby Davies is about to take up the wooden spoon herself to stir up some much needed attention and crank up the pressure on Parliament to pass her Private Member’s Bill for a National Housing Strategy.  (Bill C-304) Parliament is set to debate it quicker than I run out of groceries.

You can also sign this Petition to Re-establish a National Housing Program in Canada.

David Bowie and Freddy Mercury sure got it right when they sang pressure: pushing down on me, pressing down on you, no man ask for, under pressure….

Pressure has a way of making you stand up. Much like an oncoming wave at a concert or sporting event- you don’t want to be the one that stays sitting.

Especially if you’re holding one of those huge foam hands.

Well, time to put those foam hands to use and wave’em in the air like you can save it- the air that is.  The Copenhagen Climate Summit is nearing its end. There is a huge online petition going around at Avaaz.org It is petitioning world leaders for a “real deal now” on climate change. I may have been the 11 157 418th person to sign it but you can be the 12 000 000th. They are looking to hit 15 million signatures in the hopes that in the next 24 hours or so the petition will affect real change.

photo copied from Global Arab Network

And another issue to throw in the steam cooker is the pending B.C. Arts Funding Cuts.

Copied from site: www.stopbcartscuts.ca. Photo of George Pulp Mill worker Denise Dauvin, courtesy of Bill Horne and Claire Kujundzic

The Facebook group: Organizing Against Campbell’s cuts to the arts is calling on people to, well, call out.

Because the B.C legislature is out of session, MLA’s are back home in their ridings, which means that you can turn up the pressure to restore arts funding.  Turn it right up to 11.

All you gotta do is call. Give your  MLA’s office a ring and let them know how important the arts are to you and your community. And while you’re at it shape your “restore arts funding now” post-it notes into an amp and make it loud.

Copied from Flickr: ArtsCutsMemo's photostream. Post it art by Liesl Jauk