People Like Us

I recieved a note from Susan Sivitz this morning, inviting people to a meeting to discuss what makes for healthy community. In the note she says, "those of us who chose to raise our children here did so for a reason--what's yours?" And I got to thinking about decisions.

So how did we decide to move to the Sandspit? Initially we moved to Bainbridge looking for a good education for our girls. We already knew it was an island, and we have learned from experience that we like the way islanders tend to pull together.

But we also did a lot of research in advance. We learned that Bainbridge was a community that welcomed newcomers, and that was important. We learned it was a community that cares for its own and that there are lots of people who believe in working for the larger good. That's important to us as well. And we learned it was a community with lots of opportunities and respect for artists -- which would of course be important to me.

And when we started thinking about the Sandspit we learned that it's a cooperative community -- it has to be, to survive the occasional bouts of bad weather -- and at the same time these people are a group of hardy individualists (who else would have the resources to COPE with that bad weather?) Which, you know, might make us a little wacky... and explain some of our silly traditions...

So those are all values we hold and share together. And now that we're here, I love it; love drifting in and out of each other's living rooms, love watering Joanna's plants, sharing tea with Connie, chatting with Ursula and waving and being waved to as I drive out. I love that Mary was willing to watch Nemo for us, love the Fourth of July festivities, loved the engagement party for Steen and Laurence.

And all those things happen because we build trust with each other and work together. Those of us who live here share a love of this community, a worry about what will happen if the sewer means lots of new houses or a wider road and lots more traffic, just as we share a love of the water that surrounds us and a hope that the sewer will help it stay purer...

Maybe what this is really about is the decision-making process, that if we make informed decisions, keeping the value of the larger whole in mind, we are less likely to go off track? I keep thinking of what Buckminster Fuller used to say about hands, bodies, or any living system (and I think a community is a living system) -- "What you see is not a hand...It is a "pattern integrity", the universe's capability to create hands."

I would like to think that community has become a value for all of us. It's why Chris puts so much time into the sewer project -- because he wants to do what's best to preserve this community. There's a good chance that the sewer is a good thing, but who knows -- the data is still out. And the only way you can really know is to stay involved; to seek out and work for community -- because I think we all have within us the universe's capability to create community.

But the most important thing, I think, when you are part of a community and want to keep it alive, is that you need to keep the values of the community in mind and not get too caught up in your own agenda. Scientists say that when a cell loses its social identity, the resulting "blind undifferentiated cell division...can ultimately threaten the life of the larger organism -- it is what we know as cancer." I think this can be true in a community, too. Not that we all have to agree -- it's just that our disagreements need to come from our convictions about what is best for the community.

I think that's why we celebrate the Fourth in the first place -- because it's a reminder that democracy is special, and our forefathers were willing to die for the values it represents. And those reminders -- parades, patriotic songs, the flag, traditions and rituals -- are a way of keeping the democratic value system alive. You could say that those same rugged individualist forefathers broke away from THEIR community -- the British Empire. But I think the reason it worked (assuming you think America works) was because the values they fought for were good ones.

I am hoping my girls will someday be lucky enough to find communities like this, too. And that they will work to build and uphold them. Which is why I suggested to you the other day, Ali, to leave encouraging notes around for people: it's a reminder that you're all in this together, all struggling, and that what helps make things bearable when the temperature is below zero and you're far from home is that sense that you're part of a community: in this case, a community of people like you, who care about the arts, who value education, who prefer rural environments, who have some silly traditions, and who are ... well... a little wacky!

I keep thinking of that song from David Byrne's bizarre Talking Heads Movie, True Stories :

"People like us"

There's something special 'bout people like us

People like us
(Who will answer the telephone)
People like us
(Growing as big as a house)
People like us
(Gonna make it because)

We don't want freedom
We don't want justice
We just want someone to love.

Time to change the channel?

As I was leaving the house the other day I passed another spit resident who was peering out across the lagoon toward the little boathouse across from our property.

"Do you think the channel is getting narrower?" she asked.

I didn't quite know what to respond; we rarely take a boat through the channel, and usually it's just a canoe, so I'm not sure I would notice if it were getting narrower. But, thinking about it, I can't help but remember those floods we had earlier this winter, and all the water that was pouring down of the hillside. I should think the probability would be high that we got an extra dose of silt out of that.





























So I went out to photograph the channel at low tide yesterday afternoon. I don't know what it's supposed to look like, but it did seem there were more chunks of clay on the exposed sand (I saved one: remember the clay babies we used to pick up on Shaw?), and it looked like the shells were buried under a new wash of sand in a few places. I suspect the truth will emerge when more people begin boating again.

I know on the east coast they actually dredge channels like this but I'm not sure what the environmental impact of that might be, or even if that's the best solution. But it does look like that will be another issue for the community to deal with before long...

But hey, wasn't it a GORGEOUS day?

Nemo

Though his glucose count still needs to drop and he needs to lose six more pounds (he's already lost 5), the good news is that Nemo's water consumption is back to normal and his appointments are now every three weeks instead of every two. Yay!

So now that my toe is better, Nemo is better, the weather is warmer, and it stays light longer, we actually made it all the way to the turnaround on a recent nightly walk. And on our way back, June, who lives in the cute yellow house with the purple door, came out to say how glad she was to see Nemo out walking again. I guess Connie had told her about his diabetes -- but isn't that sweet? We were very touched that she came out and asked about him...

Shoulda used a tripod

Though you can't tell it from this photo, we had an absolutely breathtaking lunar eclipse a couple of nights ago. I know Ali saw it in Vermont -- did it happen in Taiwan as well? don't know how that works... And even if it did, could you see it from your roof in the city?

Anyway, amazingly enough, it was a clear night, so we could watch the whole thing, start to finish, just sitting in the window seat looking out over the lagoon. It reminded me of the last lunar eclipse I can really remember: we were in New Jersey, at Grampa's house, for Thanksgiving, I think, and you guys were pretty little. Do you remember?

Unfortunately in the early part of the evening, when it was still fairly light out, the moon was obscured by clouds. And by the time the moon rose over the clouds it was so dark out that my camera couldn't really handle the brightness of the moon against the darkness of the sky. I suppose a tripod would have helped, but I was too lazy to set it up -- plus, as you know, your dad has this way of suggesting I just enjoy things without photographing them...

But you know the wonders of Photoshop -- I couldn't resist mocking one up to show what it really looked like! So I found a moon shot from another night with a similar low cloud layer and just darkened the moon a bit. And this is what the eclipse REALLY looked like to me: it was amazing.