Text – Page 9 – Citizen Reporter

Unpack those Expressions

Restored Vietnam Photo by Alexandra Nicole Photography / flickr

It is perhaps surprising to some regular readers/listeners of my work, but I don’t much care for the way elections and campaigns are carried out in several countries including the United States. But don’t stop reading assuming this text is about elections, it isn’t. It is about the words and experiences of someone less well known internationally who happens to be running in an election in the US. Words that I think should echo throughout the world and be truly understood.

His name is Bob Kerrey former Senator from Nebraska, not to be mistaken with the more well known John Kerry, Senator from Massachusetts and former presidential candidate. After a hiatus of several years, he is now once again running for Senate in the upcoming election, which is part of why I got to read a recent interview he gave and couldn’t help but re-read a few times, his experience as a soldier in the Vietnam War. There is a contreversial story involving a mission he had some authority over, where through a series of events his team wound up gunning down a village full of women and children. Kerrey, along with members of his team, did not speak publicly about the event for many years afterwards. But when it did come out, the former governor did not deny the story. He came out and painstakingly explained what had happened and including how the women and children had been murdered. Some argued that he gave the order, while a member of his own unit said that is not the case, but indeed he did not use the power he had to put a stop to it.

The long term result of this horrible event is that today Kerrey is staunch critic of any governing official of any party that speaks of going to war as an acceptable approach to handling disagreements between nations. He seems to take any and every opportunity to remind us that military action means terrible things for all sides, the civilians and soldiers who lose their lives or are forever scarred by what they experience. The cost, and not just in the money sense of the term, of war.

This comes as nowadays so many voices, especially in positions of power, talk about going to war with a nation like Iran, as if it is an option to be used within the foreseeable future. Like choosing something to eat off a menu, they talk about “options on a table” and “having no choice.” What I find admirable about Kerrey is that here we have someone who has carried out war. He has done horrible things based on strategies and what some see as “acceptable” means to solve problems. Yet all these other powerful people, who’ve never lived the reality of being a soldier or a citizen who’s home is under attack, they will claim they know what is best and what the risks are, and that war is still something they will use when they feel its necessary.

Myself I’ve never been a soldier, a victim of war, or a politician. So I listen to someone like Kerrey who speaks from experience and is honest about things that are more complicated and horrible than I could ever imagine. Those aspects of war that few people can handle really talking about, much less fix in its aftermath.

Small Groups, Loud Actions

A suicide bomber attacks a vehicle traveling on the airport road in Kabul yesterday. 14 people are killed, people throughout the city are once again confronted with a major act of violence and destruction. Throughout the world millions read the headlines and chalk it up to another blow in the already (presumed) failed story of the new Afghanistan nations around the world have worked to help stabilize. Despite the fact that millions of Afghans went about their day, working, socializing, living life, it is the suicide bomber and the 14 victims that become the latest symbol for the nation.

Groups of angry protestors around the Middle East and North Africa (and beyond at this point) take to the streets and attack their local US embassies as an angry reaction to a poorly produced video clip that presumably insults their most important prophet and religion. In one case a group of militants in Libya take advantage of the chaos and attack; the now infamous story that ends with the murder of several people including the American ambassador. Throughout the world, especially in social media circles, people express their anger at the violence and the stupidity of the protestors for a long list of reasons. Further conclusions are drawn about what has happened in the aftermath of the Arab Spring, in places like Egypt and Tunisia where many now presume angry fundamentalists have new found power and will continue to carry out these types of acts and worse.

Again, millions upon millions of Libyans, Egyptians, Yemeni’s, Tunisians, etc did not take to the streets and attack innocent people and set fire to American buildings. But those people don’t make headlines, the bold criminals who take advantage of a situation and are led by blind rage, they’re the ones we base our judgements on. Like so many moments in the history of the world, even in the era of so much information and the possibility to hear from so many voices, small groups of people willing to take action (in this case for destructive, criminal means) are the ones who shape perceptions of reality.

This is not to say such groups aren’t dangerous. Or that recent events involving mass protests and violence aren’t significant. But it is to point out how, as always, be it 82 million Egyptians or 6.5 million Libyans, regular people in far away countries get painted with the broad brush, and we’re convinced the image we’re given must be the whole picture.

A Call To Action: Arab Artists in a Revolution

To all my readers, listeners, viewers, followers, friends, family and random acquaintances from across the planet, I bring you some significant news. This fall, together with the great journalist, broadcaster, listener and my friend Christopher Lydon, we have decided to embark on a journalistic journey to North Africa. Egypt and Tunisia specifically, to seek out the storytellers. We want to hear from the heart and soul of the revolution, beyond the politics, beyond the expert analysis, there are those who create, challenge and observe culture, who can give us the long view of what is such an ancient and inspiring part of the world.

In order to do this, we’re calling on our audiences to support the project. There are many kickstarter projects out there these days, but as the marine saying goes “this one is ours.”

That’s where you come in, as the people to whom we answer to, without need of advertisements or institutions telling us how to do our work, your financial support is vital. Go check out the kickstarter page, where we hope you would be a part of this experience by backing us and getting us ever closer to the financial goal. Those funds will take care of travel, shelter, and communication costs on a shoe string budget, as has been my specialty for the past 10 years as a traveling new media reporter. From there we will bring you the voices as podcasts and radio programs, as well as some video and photo reports. The stories we intend to get will be both insightful and inspiring, in ways no conventional media would bother trying to do in this era of fast and shallow journalism.

So there you have it, if ever there was a time to take action, if the work on this site or the fantastic body of work Christopher Lydon has compiled through the course of his long career has ever spoken to you, then let this be the project you really join us on. Get involved, help us reach the goal, and this fall – enjoy the results you helped produce!

Progress Rumbles Through Your Yard

The lower Normandy that I’ve come to know is an amazing world of deep green fields, breathtaking skies, and a silence I have never heard before. The few houses you pass are modest and functional. They can be found between the long stretches of corn and the grazing land where content cows and sheep seem to have all the time in the world to eat and relax. One of the busiest metropoles in the world is 3 to 4 hours away, but out here it may as well be on another continent. Still, people here are busy, building things, cleaning things, working the land in one form or another. Some grew up here and continue a family tradition of agricultural work. Others come from different parts of the country, even foreign countries, to live the healthy, calm, and satisfyingly simple life they always wished for.

Looking out over the mystifying landscape one night, a friend shows me with great disappointment, massive new structures on the otherwise beautiful horizon. With their feet planted firmly in concrete, towering high above the corn and fruit orchards, are massive high tension power lines. “They just put them in, stretching from the power plant that isn’t online yet several hundred kilometers away,” my friend describes with an alarmed tone like someone talking about an oil slick or a forest fire swallowing up his neighbors. “The power company is planning to use these lines to sell electricity to Spain, all the nearby farmers protested, but the company built it anyway.” He went on to describe the extensive campaign to fight the power company and how they are able to seize land for installing power cables and towers regardless of what the nearby community thinks.

I stepped back from the situation and thought about how often scenario’s like this take place. The massive dam projects in India that displaced thousands of people with little to no consultation. The coal power plant right next door to the city of Ulan Bataar in Mongolia, bringing electricity and horrific air pollution to hundreds of thousands nearby. Throughout history and including today, projects are pursued for different reasons, some to improve lives, some just for the sake of profit or prestige. And regardless of their purpose, sometimes those same projects wind up harming the very people they set out to benefit.

These same questions will still be asked about major decisions and risky initiatives long after all of us have left the planet, when is worth it and when is it not worth it? Innovation and development that improves quality of life for more people on this planet – who could argue with that? But innovation and development for the sake of profit for a tiny few while harming a larger part of the population – why should that be acceptable?

A different issue but yet somehow related, I’m reminded of Mario Savio’s speech in 1964: “There’s a time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious, makes you so sick at heart, that you can’t take part! You can’t even passively take part! And you’ve got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels…upon the levers, upon all the apparatus, and you’ve got to make it stop! And you’ve got to indicate to the people who run it, to the people who own it, that unless you’re free, the machine will be prevented from working at all!”

Value Can Be Found Beyond the Blue Boxes

If you’re involved in any kind of project these days chances are you make use of Facebook in some way or another. If you don’t, a few clicks on the internet or a few pages in your local newspaper, and you’ll probably get hit with an article about how “you should” in order to reach “the people”. In the publishing world it is the same story multiplied by 1000, as the world’s largest social network site is considered the be all end all of doing anything online. If you’re not making full use of facebook, you’re somehow a failure or a fool. Why? Because in the publishing world it is all about the numbers, and if there’s one thing we’re told over and over again, facebook has the numbers.

But what real value do these numbers have? The truth that few want to admit, is that we don’t know. What proof is there that all those likes, and all the times your post gets shared on facebook, that these things amount to anything beyond a brief 2 sentences that are constantly being buried under the feeds of the insatiable scrolling machines we have all become. Companies pay a full time staff to control their social media presence, to keep an eye on the social networks and make sure they’re “talking about us.” Somewhere along the line of all of us going online, “talking about” something stopped meaning real conversations of any substance, and became the act of copy pasting without having to read or remember anything. Entire books and traveling guru’s (even more irritating versions of me) are dedicated and revered because they give institutions advice as to what they “should” be doing if they really want to be down with the social media thing.

We have lost and are now at risk of losing even more when it comes to real content, genuine thought, and meaningful understanding. When it is more important that you have a facebook page than it is to actually researching and writing articles; when its more important you go viral than actually capture the war criminal your video was about; when its more of a priority that your facebook page have lots of likes instead of real debate and discussion; that is the point where the world of journalism and media is proudly wrapped in a fog of stupidity. One where trends and expert tips are given way more credence than they deserve, and where original content is left in the dust. Somewhere along the line we stopped being original and authentic, and we became apostles of that iconic blue masthead that says “this is what matters, not your hard work or your unique individual creations, but your ability to do exactly as we say you should. Why? Because we have the numbers. And in today’s publishing/business world, numbers trump humanity. Over and over again.

(yes I realize you’re likely reading this from within facebook, but I look forward to after the rebellion, when even less of us will)

Hospitals and Senior Homes

I’ve spent the better part of this summer with senior citizens, especially those living in small town Portugal. They are the generation just barely hanging on, the same people who 20 years ago I would spend much of my summer with. They were the farmers, the housewives, the seamstresses, and the factory workers. They raised children, they emigrated to countries where there was work and hope, and then they came home to live among their farms and friends for those golden years as they awaited visits from grandchildren and for life to carry on.

As decades flew by, these towns changed dramatically and perhaps the people did too. Young people kept leaving, and old people kept getting older. The focus shifted to nearby cities and suddenly there were hardly any children in town. The local school where my mother and so many other children studied, stands empty and closed as the regional government has decided there aren’t enough students. The ruins of houses I used to visit when I was a kid lay everywhere, with their collapsed roofs, broken windows and walls that have crumbled. In the center of the village there are now only two buses per day to get you to the nearest towns, another sign of a culture that has embraced the car as the ONLY means of transportation, and a community that can hardly walk to the bus stop.

Some of the still mobile seniors still tend to their fields, watering their crops which is mostly just for home consumption. Several middle aged farmers do the lion’s share of the work, growing pears and grapes, the inconsistent cash crops of the community. Their children go to school and vocational training, their interests lead them away from the farm, towards the much talked about better life that is assumed to exist beyond this dying town. As days turn into weeks, another beloved member of the community passes away. Their land passes on to a child who lives far away. Their houses lay empty, some strong enough to resist the decay, others not so lucky. Outside of town there are a few tourism projects that attract visitors with money; wine tourism, people seeking peace and quiet, and those who find the mountains and valleys of agricultural Portugal to be charming. Inside of town, the mayor wonders out loud about what will happen to his shrinking population when the generation that built the town is completely gone, and then next generations have long moved away.

This story of one particular village that I have known all my life, repeats itself over and over in Portugal. Cities get bigger. Villages die out. The elderly disappear while the young follow the promise of a what some say is a better life. Ripe plums and peaches fall from abandoned groves to the point that it smells like wine in the afternoon heat. Down the main road a few minutes there’s a new giant super market chain store that has opened up, they’ve got a sale on peaches and plums.