Going Back to the Secret Garden

As I mentioned in an earlier post, Washington is a relatively green city and I'm incredibly lucky to have a good 10 km of trails right beside campus that meander through lush, mostly undisturbed forest.

On my run through the trails today, I decided one of the best things of being a baby would be not to have to watch where you're going - with someone carrying you or pushing you in a stroller, you're free to take in everyting around you. So, in a jealous attempt to regain that privilege, I decided I had done enough trail running to be able to do the same while running.

At first it was amazing! Tree trunks completely covered in leafy vines looked like overgrown pillars in a secret garden; I mavelled at them for a little while, with the beautiful yellow backdrop of leaves and the occasional crimson red tree appearing out of nowhere, like a burning bush. And then I tripped over a root.

That didn't stop me though: I started examining all the different twisted roots on the forest floor. I went from feeling like a baby crawling through tunnels only visible to me in a forest of adult legs to feeling like a giant trampling through a village of grasses, acorns, shrubs, etc. Then as I turned a corner, there were hundreds of yellow leaves falling out of the sky, foreshadowing the millions of snowflakes soon to come. As I sprinted, trying to catch them, I twisted my ankle on a rock. Time to start walking back.

Even more so than on the way there, I constantly felt like I was lost: "I can't have run passed that bench dozens of times and never noticed it"; "no, I don't remember ever crossing any bridges"; "I thought there was only one spot where the trail came so close to the street"; but sure enough, I had seen all these things dozens of times, I had just never noticed them.

As I emerged from the forest, running again, it felt like I was no longer part of that magical world anymore: it was now part of mine. Seconds later, I passed a man with one of the wretched leaf blowers blowing the leaves off a tree so he could blow them into a pile and dispose of them leaving a nice clean lawn. Sure there's nature in the city, but it only grows exactly where we let it and in ways we want it to.

So next time you're in the forest, when no one's looking, hug a tree and tell it it can grow wherever and however it wants :)

Crust

At the homeless reception centre I volunteer at, they give out free sandwiches. Today, as I watched one of our regular clients eat the middle part of the sandwich and stuff the crust the back into the back for disposal, I thought... this would be a good anectdote for my blog.

Commu-what?

Now I know many of you will have seen this poster before (especially if you came to visit the Sustainable Residence last year), but in a city where people don't even feel comfortable greeting each other on the street - it's not just that people don't do it, but people who try quickly realise it's inappropriate behaviour - I think it's important to remind ourselves of the the inestimable value of community and of couple of ways we can build a community.

And if anyone thinks the poster's suggestions are simply wishful thinking, you're overdue for a trip to Sackville, NB.

Oh Sackville, how I miss you!

Friendly Foreign Nations

I love to read sections in books about the USA that talk about Canada. In "Gates of Injustice: The Crisis in America's Prisons", in a short section about the tainted blood scandal in which "hundreds of Canadian hemophiliacs were infected with HI of hepatitis by contaminated blood collected in a U.S. prison" Alan Elsner writes:

"There can hardly be a better example of hw disease within the U.S. prison system spread, not just throughout our society, but in this case infected innocent victims in friendly foreign nations."

Could You Be the Next Prime Minister?

I've met some of really nice, down-to-earth people during my 3 months in the USA, but of course, I hear and see some things that are simply hilarious in their aburdity, especially since others find them completely normal.

The other day, I overheard a guy talking to a friend of his (on his cell, of course) about how he had worked out some problems with his girlfriend and that really most of their problems stemmed from misunderstandings and miscommunication. One example he gave was that his girlfriend likes to get her sleep but he likes to stay up talking late into the night. Thus since "[he's] genetically engineered to be a politician and doesn't need sleep" and his girlfriend does, "like normal people", he just has to learn to let her sleep at night.

The worst part was that, although I don't think politicians are "genetically engineered" to do so, he's probably right that learning to deal with sleed deprivation is an important aspect of succeeding in politics. I guess I'll stick to organic farming.

Let 'em rot in jail!

I talked with a young law student yesterday at a free dinner for international students and others interested, and it just reinforced a bunch of ideas I've been developing about justice and jails in this country (I'm taking an amazing course on this topic!).

We started talking about Canada a bit, and when she noticed I had a book with me - called Gates of Injustice - that I'm reading for that justice class, we got onto the topic of incarceration. She asked about differences, and I told her how much more punitive people are here. She asked why, and I mentioned, part of it was differences in laws. I gave her the example of the daycare sex abuse hysteria that swept the USA in the 80s and 90s which Canada largely evaded - apparently in part because we required physical evidence, while here, they convicted simply based on the coached testimonies of 3-year-olds.

Then she asked about more of the root causes, and I tried to explain that throughout US American history, the country has often considered itself a "city on a hill", a perfect model (or at least the best) that other nations were expected to replicate, when they realised how good it was. Of course, in this context, there's a lot more at stake when people go out of line - it's not just a personal thing, they're polluting the perfect image of the whole nation!

Next we went on to minimum (or determined) sentences and "three-strikes-your-out laws". I explained how in reaction to public outrage, politicians have often established or raised minimum sentences for certain crimes (especially drug-related). Why should the minimum for drug dealing be less than the minimum for armed robbery (not a real example)? Both are just as harmful and dangerous! And so slowly everything moves up and usually with unforseen but severe consequences for petty criminals who really don't deserve such harsh sentences but get included through poor foresight and exceedingly broad definitions. However, once the minimum is in place, it becomes virtually impossible to lower (i.e. it would be political suicide to try to be more slack on crime), regardless of the consequences.

In response to this, my interlocutor said that determined sentences were necessary to combat widespread discrimination in sentencing. I didn't know what to say, except that racism exists in Canada as well, and we seem to manage somehow.

Finally - and this is the part that really did it for me -, we got into the issue of rehabilitation. I explained how there is a much greater focus of this in the Canadian system. Apparently, we do some of the leading research in this area. In contrast, the USA is known to be one of the harshest prison systems (or prison industrial complex, as people often call it now). Obviously, this difference in perspective would have significant effects on rates and lengths of incarceration. And in response to this, the futre lawyer told me that she would be interested in comparing the recidivism rates (percent of inmates that end up back in jail) because the truth is, once you end up in jail, it basically shows that you didn't get the parenting and upbringing you needed - and as an teen or young adult, it's just too late to be able to make up for that and fix these people: prisons and jails are the only place they belong.

And the scariest part is that this is by no means an exceptional attitude! So whatever you do, don't be accused of any crimes in this country (because it often doesn't matter whether you actually did it or not; an accusation can be the end of your life as a free human with any worth).