golfing

Recently I served for a $45-per-plate event at a local golf club. The function with was with a friendly and excellent cook, who we will call B. It was one of those events where everyone wears pastels and there's a traffic jam around the bar. I thought one guest was going to throw his wine glass upon learning the dinner was buffet style, and he would have to wait in a line.

The real kicker for me was the "wish list" in the ladies restroom. Next to an enormous mirror was a place where members could write such suggestions as, "ball cleaners on the golf carts," and "air fresheners in the restrooms." I took in this list, struggled for a moment with the moral implications of writing something even though I'm not a member, and then scribbled down:

"Host a dinner for the area's homeless and unemployed individuals"

All evening I was worried someone would come up and ask me for a handwriting sample. But, I hoped that at least one member would see the idea, think it came from one of their own, and maybe set up a service committee or something. If confronted, this is the answer I would give for my motivations, ready to pull the "our president loves americorp and service projects" card.

What I would not have said is that I feel elitist functions at elitist clubs reinforce dangerous attitudes the upper class have toward life. Like the fact one man's world was shattering around him because he had to stand in line. I wanted my suggestion to bring someone back to reality. I wanted to break their silence around poverty and unequal distribution of resources.

Don't get me wrong- I'm incredibly thankful for the employment. And I know our golf course guests are a product of a society that values money and conformity more than individuals. I care about them, as people. I care about their contribution to our northern economy. But I also care about those who would like to contribute, those have worked just as hard but have nothing near the privilege of these private members. Why aren't we all working toward a world where everyone could enjoy a $45 dinner, and know what it feels like to serve this meal?

p.s.
if you see this B, please don't let me go- I'm know I'm not the only server who has this opinion!

spaces

(a potluck at Blackbird Gardens with Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) members and their families, circa spring 2007)

Where do we talk about food? Executive boardrooms, and Congress, and hopefully our dinner table. Where do we talk about social justice? In books, and blogs, and hopefully community potlucks.

But if we're talking about food and justice in general, I think it makes sense to have these conversations in a garden. The idea came to me while weeding the cilantro rows with Elena and Ken. With busy hands and relaxed minds, somehow the setting allowed us to dive deep into topics of gender, race, and sexuality.

One downside of working and talking, in any type of work, is that we soon came to the end of the task and needed to trellis tomatoes. However, because garden space is always in flux, it provides an evolving setting through the season for your conversations.

I often attended events hosted by the Interfaith Council for Peace and Justice when I lived in Ann Arbor. They had "dinner and movie" nights for a variety of topics, from nuclear disarmament to the US tax-payer role in massacres in Latin America to food accessibility. What if the movie and semi-facilitated processing conversation at the end was followed by 10 minutes or so of gardening?

Community members could finish their dialogs while doing something productive. Growing food releases feelings of anxiety about the control corporations and the government have on our lives. Why not give it a try the next time you host company? You might get a lot done in your garden.