Friday, August 16, 2013

Is a CNG School Bus Conversion a Green Initiative? Or Rather Grey...

This past May, the Rose Tree Media School District here in Media, Pennsylvania was awarded a half million dollar Natural Gas Vehicle Development grant.  The grant will help to fund the district’s larger 4.8 million dollar transportation project, which includes the conversion of 14 existing diesel buses to compressed natural gas (CNG), purchase of 8 new CNG buses, and a new hybrid fueling station owned and operated by the district.   The grant, overseen by the Pennsylvania Department of Environmental Protection, is part of a “green” initiative that aligns with RTMSD’s commitment to environmental preservation and conservation of natural resources and energy.  

As I read the article in the Media Patch about this grant award, I found myself wondering, is compressed natural gas really a green energy solution?  To me it sounded like just another fossil fuel, and I need to do a little more digging.

It turns out CNG comes from domestic natural gas sources, such as the Marcellus Shale Region that covers much of Western Pennsylvania, and it is touted as a cleaner, greener, cheaper, domestic fuel alternative.   A fleet of CNG buses would produce considerably less CO2 than a fleet of diesel buses.   But does that make CNG a green alternative?  Where does CNG come from, and how is it processed? 

CNG is extracted through a process called hydraulic fracturing, or more commonly “fracking”.  This is the process of drilling and injecting fluid into the ground at a high pressure in order to fracture shale rocks and release the natural gas inside.   Fracking is a controversial method of obtaining fossil fuels, and it has actually been banned is several cities, towns, and counties across the US and Europe due to health and environmental concerns.  Some residents who live near fracking sites are particularly concerned with ground water contamination and human health impacts.  In fact, the funding for the grant obtained by RTMSD comes from what are known as “impact fees”- fees companies drilling for gas in Pennsylvania are required pay to offset the environmental and health risks of fracking. 

This last fact left my brain going around in circles:  the natural gas companies pay a penalty fee to offset the acknowledged environmental costs of natural gas extraction.  That “impact fee” is then allocated to schools and businesses in the form of grants overseen by the PA Department of Environmental Protection.  The grants are then used to convert businesses from oil to natural gas, or in our case, a fleet of diesel buses to CNG.  Now, to operate its fleet of buses, the school district will be purchasing natural gas.  From the companies.   That gave the money.   To convert the buses. Hmm…

As a teacher, I certainly understand the need for school district to choose cost saving fuel sources, and applaud Rose Tree Media School District’s commitment to natural resource and energy conservation.   At the same time, I question the framing of this grant as a “green” initiative.   While CNG is more cost effective than petroleum oil and will result in decreased carbon emissions in the short term, the long term human and environmental impacts of fracking are great.  For example, the process of hydraulic fracking leaks methane gas into the atmosphere, and methane gas is actually more detrimental to global warming and climate change than carbon dioxide.   Meanwhile there is mounting evidence of rivers, streams, and wells right here in Pennsylvania being polluted by "produced" water, a by-product of fracking that can contain as many as 600 petrochemicals harmful to ecosystems, animals, and human beings.  

Is converting the fleet of school buses to CNG really the way to “green” our public school transportation?  In an ideal world, truly “green” transportation would not rely on fossil fuels at all.  Is this initiative green?   Perhaps it should be reexamined as one that is rather grey.

Saturday, July 20, 2013

How Does Your Garden Grow?


By the time we moved in to our new house it was already the beginning of May.   And since we had spent the previous 4.5 months in various different temporary housing situations (a long story best left aside for another blog), I was fully unprepared to plant a vegetable garden.   No starts, no seedlings, not even much of a clue, really.  And then began the work of unpacking and painting and fixing and arranging.   Before we knew it, it was mid-June, and beginning to look like another year would pass us by without fulfilling our vision of finally having our own backyard vegetable garden.

Backyard vegetable gardens, sometimes called “Kitchen Gardens” are important for a number of reasons.   First, growing food can have a major impact on a family budget, especially if, like our family, you buy a LOT of vegetables.   Second, growing your own food helps to guarantee that the food you are feeding your family is free of pesticides, fertilizers, and genetically modified organisms.  A backyard kitchen garden also helps to reduce fossil fuel consumption and CO2 emissions.   You don’t have to drive anywhere to get your vegetables, and the vegetables are not brought to you via large trucks, planes, or other fossil fuel burning vehicles.  When a local community grows more of its own food, it also helps to build food security.  If there is a drought in another part of the country, or if for whatever reason the food cannot reach us over long distances, we have a local source of sustenance.  Even setting a goal of having 10% of your families food come from local sources, such as your own garden or nearby farmshare, can greatly reduce fossil fuel consumption and build better local food security.  

Vegetable gardens take a bit of planning and prep work.  Generally by the time you get to mid-June, it’s a little late in the game to jump in.  In fact most people I asked, suggested we wait until next year, and maybe look into yardsharing- helping someone out with their backyard garden and sharing in the harvest.   But having our own vegetable garden is something that we had wanted to do every year.  And every year there seemed to be some reason why it didn’t get done.  And since this is the year we’ve decided to try to live our values more, we weren’t going to throw in the trowel just yet, so to speak.  

The house we bought came with a very large vegetable garden plot, about 25 X 15 feet, and by mid –June it was already 3 foot high in weeds.   Located at the end of our driveway, it was an unsightly depressing mess.  Easily viewable from the street, it the first thing we laid eyes on every time we came home.   It took me 4.5 hours to pull the weeds and till the damn thing, and I was sore for 3 full days after.  The clock was ticking and we just didn’t know how in the world we were going to get this thing fenced and planted by solstice (which was our pre-determined plant it or get off the pot date).
Then I posted this ad to our local Timebank:  “Looking for some help with our garden plot: basic fencing, building some garden beds, and figuring out what can be planted this late in the season and where to get good seedlings or plants.”  That evening I had Timebank Member Kathy L. over for about 2.5 hours.   She showed us how to measure out raised garden beds and then sat down with a stack of graph paper and helped us plan out where to plant the tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, beans, peppers, eggplant, and greens.   The next day Chris, from My Kitchen Harvest (http://www.mykitchenharvest.com/) came by in his truck and delivered our babies while my husband Ibrahim carefully measured out and leveled our six raised beds (for 12 rows).   Later that afternoon Timebank member Donna C. came over with her sun hat and shovel and spent 2.5 hours digging, helping us get the fence up, and showing us how to keep our groundhog out.  The next evening, on Solstice, at sunset, we planted all of our seedlings. 
We promptly left the next morning for a week long vacation at the Jersey Shore. I know, I know, bad timing.  But fortunately it rained nearly every evening that week, and when we came back we actually had tomatoes.  I mean, real live green baby tomatoes that had grown in our own garden, for a whole week.
People keep asking me if we like our new house.  And, I don’t know, I mean, it’s a house.  There are some things I like OK.  Some things I don’t like at all.  The mortgage freaks me out to no end.   But the one thing I really LOVE, the thing that really makes me feel that I am HOME, is our garden.   It’s the first thing I see every day when I come home.  And it makes me smile. Every. Single. Time.   I love to see my daughter’s excitement and wonder with each new change- how large the zucchini plants got after a few days of rain, how the cucumbers started creeping up the trellis, and how the basil grew so tall we had to stake it like the tomatoes.  I can’t wait for the day when we can actually start picking things and eating our own vegetables for dinner.  Our harvest will come a little late this year, since we got off to a late start but we’ll get there, thanks to the amazing support we got from our friends and Transition Town and Timebank members.  This garden, and the community that helped us build it, is truly what makes our house a home. 

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

In Transition

On Earth Day this year, my family bought our first home in Media, Pennsylvania, an eclectic suburb outside of Philly locally known as "Everybody's Hometown".  We chose Media, because it is a Transition Town, meaning some of its residents are part of an international network of communities committed to building local resilience in face of a changing global climate.  Transition Towns focus on initiatives such as local sustainable food, renewable energy, reducing fossil fuel consumption and CO2 emissions, sharing resources, and re-skilling.   It was important to me to find and settle down in a community with like-minded people, who recognize the current energy and climate crises, and take meaningful action to build local ecological resilience.  Part of my vision for joining this community was to take a leadership role in community initiatives, but also to begin a process of shifting my own life to more align with my values.  

I spent the better part of my late teens and early 20s traveling to and living on eco-villages, from Tich Nhat's Hahn's Plum Village in France, to Auroville, a sustainable eco-city in Southern India, to Pinon Eco-Village in New Mexico.   I always envisioned that I would eventually live in an eco-village, perhaps even one that I, with a group of friends and family, would start.   But life in my late 20s and early 30s took a different direction:  graduate degrees, marriage, family.   At some point I found myself throwing out hundreds if not thousands of disposable diapers and buying questionably raised packaged chicken in the shape of dinosaurs.  And the backyard garden I spent each winter dreaming about never seemed to materialize each spring amidst the demands of work and parenting.  Although I recycled and frequented the farmers market, living a general lifestyle so contrary to my values and vision was depressing, and change was needed.   And as long as work demands necessitated close proximity to a city, it didn't seem living on an eco-village nestled in the foothills of the Appalachians was going to be practical.  Becoming an active member of a Transition Town seemed the best most logical place to start my own Transition towards a more sustainable lifestyle. 

The journey began 6 months before we actually moved to Media, when I began making connections with members of the Transition community over email, in person during our many house-hunting visits, and more deeply at a 3 day Timebanking and Transition conference 3.5 months before we actually moved to town.  One thing that continually struck me about the people I met was the level of intelligence, thoughtfulness, and depth to which each individual contributed to the collective.   Having spent over a decade in the non-profit world, I know how very challenging community ventures can be, particularly those that rely heavily on volunteers and function with very little capital.   A key ingredient to the success of any community initiative is commitment, which the members of Transition Town seemed to have in spades, along with a healthy dose of organizational talent.   Needless to say, I was excited to join this group.   Yet vision and intention is often difficult to actualize in the face of well, life.  And throughout our first year in Media, I often found myself struggling once again to align my life with my values.  

The reality is that shifting our lives from one of shopper, consumer, fossil fuel burner to one that lives more in balance with the earth and her limited resources is really.damn.hard.  One of the first things we needed to do when we moved to our rental house in the Borough was get things.  Stuff.   Kitchen stuff and bedroom stuff and front patio stuff.   I had this vision of getting everything second hand off craigslist, freecycle, and our community swap page.   Down with Walmart, down with Target.  And in truth, we did find some great things on the swap page.  But we needed more things, and so began the back and forth trips (by car) to Bed Bath and Beyond and the set of avocado green made in China towels that I honestly could not make myself not buy at Home Goods.  They just matched the bathroom paint so well-  simultaneously cursing myself a hypocrite while basking in the earthy crunchy greenness of my perfectly matched bathroom towel and shower curtain set. 

And so this is the reality of what it means for me to be In Transition.   There is a constant pull and tug between this life that we envision-- this life of organic backyard gardens and bicycles and stuff-swapping, and the life in which we are inculcated and attached-- the lifestyle that would better sustain our bodies and spirits, and the lifestyle that is slowly killing our planet (but feels so good in the short term).   This is my journey and the journey of other Transitioners as we attempt to shift our own lives and our communities towards something better, something more sustainable, something more beautiful.   I will admit, I am petrified of this change.   As much as I know I would be happiest ankle deep in farm soil, I am really attached to our weekly trips to Trader Joe's and all that little pre-packaged goodness.   As much as I know I would be healthier and happier riding a bike everywhere, I love my car.  And I am also petrified of sharing this journey publicly, equal parts idealism and pragmatism, failure and success.  But here goes nothing.   This is officially post move entry #1.

Friday, June 1, 2012

Shift Happens (is happening): A Day with Charles Eisenstein

After a 6 hour drive back to Boston, I found myself at a social gathering where, naturally, I was asked about the conference I had just attended on Timebanking in Transition.  I enthusiastically explained the ideas behind the Transition Movement and the ins and outs of timebanking and the "gift economy", how it has the potential to build community by introducing neighbors to neighbors, creating a web of connections and resilience, etc, etc.   The response I got?  "That sounds awful!"   The sociologist in me was intrigued.  "Really?"  I responded, "tell me more -  what does it bring up for you?"  The woman with whom I was speaking explained that she just really likes being independent.  She hates the idea of knowing her neighbors.  In fact, just two weeks ago her husband insisted that they move their money to a local bank and now she has to deal with the fact that the guy who manages their mortgage lives on her street and sometimes they see him in passing....  and he knows how much money they make!  Awful.  "What is the feeling behind that?"  I wanted to know.   I didn't want to push too hard, but ultimately what came out is a fear of being judged.  Her mother had told her to be "wary of small towns where everybody knows your business," because somehow, such knowledge or intimacy is inherently threatening.

This desire to be independent-- the fear of being judged, and the feeling that "I don't want to need you" or "I don't want to owe you anything"-- is very much a part of the fabric of our culture.  It is what Charles Eisenstein, author of Ascent of Humanity and Sacred Economics, refers to the "myth of the separate self".  We live in a society that values independence from as early as infancy.  We learn from a young age to censor our emotions, thoughts, and even our gifts for fear of being judged by others.  We develop endless "habits of separation" (including judging others) that become so much a part our daily routine, we don't even question their existence.  In Sacred Economics, Charles discusses how through separation we also become alienated, pitted in competition against one another, devoid of a sense of community.  Our modern monetary system contributes to this lack of connection to one another >  you give me a service or a product, I give you money, which relieves me of any obligation or connection to you, and we go on our separate ways.  For many people, this is the most comfortable way of doing business.  After all, it's what we know.  It's all we know!  The problem is that this paradigm of separation is not serving us well.  Maybe we've fooled ourselves into thinking we are independent and don't need each other.  But in reality, rather than relying on our local economy and community to meet our needs for food, clothing, fuel, shelter, entertainment, etc, we find ourselves wholly dependent upon giant corporations and banks who are not beholden to us for anything but their own profit and gain.  Without any connection, without any accountability, obligation or care, profit has been prioritized over people in every facet of our lives.  In fact, if we look at any of the major crises facing our society today, and we ask "why?", and we peel back a few layers of "whys", we will keep coming to the same answer:  money.

As a parent, I find myself most concerned with the health, safety, and well-being of my child, and really of all children.   I am continually struck by how the the current systems and structures of modern life do worse than fail to protect the most vulnerable among us;  they actually do harm.   It seems that every day I read another statistic:  1 in 88 children born in the US with austism, 1 in 4 adolescents in the US now diagnosed with diabetes or pre-diabetic conditions, cancer rates to increase by 75% in the next 15 years.  Scientists scratch their heads--  they just can't prove what's causing it.   It's just something about the westernized lifestyle.   But, what?  And why?   Why are so many of our food products from genetically modified soy and corn?  Why have vast monocultures replaced the rich biodiversity of North American agriculture?  Why is Tertiary Butylhydroquinine (TBHQ), a petroleum based carcinogen, added to my child's fishsticks?  Why are there toxic flame retardants in our sofa?  Why are energy companies like Halliburton permitted to inject toxic chemicals into the earth that threaten the water we drink, the air we breath, and the climate on which we depend?  Why is it that the federal government can bail out the too-big-too-fail corporate banks while public institutions like the Philadelphia public school system are allowed to disintegrate?   The answer to all of these questions (and so many more) is profit.  And lots of it.  We live at a time in which giant corporations, with little to no accountability or oversight, toss aside the precautionary principle in the name of profit.  And the result is dis-ease, among people and within our fragile ecosystems.

And this brings us to another myth that Charles Eisenstein expounds in Ascent of Humanity: the "Story of the People".  The myth goes something like this:  we've mastered agriculture, we've created machines to do work for us, we've developed telecommunications, we've conquered disease...  we have risen above other species and transcended our limitations.  We are ascending higher and higher to a point where we will have total control-  over the environment, over the weather, over the cells in our body.  We may even one day defeat death.  The myth tells us that this total and complete power and control over everything will be the highest point of our humanity--  our ascent -- and we're almost there.   The problem, of course, is that the more we "ascend" the more separate we become, from nature and from one another. This quest, this conquest, really, has also lead to the oppression of people all over the world, war, genocide, and the increasing, perhaps irreversible, degradation of our planet.  And furthermore, we really can't ascend any higher on this trajectory.  We are already at peak oil.  We're also  at peak money, as our debt far surpasses our economic growth.  We're even at peak sugar because, let's face it, any more in our diet and we'd just drop dead.  We simply can not continue to progress on this current path.  It is completely and utterly unsustainable.

So if we've found ourselves already at the top, where is there to go from here?  Are we on the brink of self-destruction?  Maybe.  Or perhaps, as Charles suggests, we just need a new myth, a new story, one that is predicated on connection and community, one that values human beings and their unique gifts over profit and consumption.  The new story is one that we are able to glimpse in moments of our true authentic being-ness-- a vision that Charles calls "the more beautiful world our hearts tell us is possible."
We become aware of it in moments, gaps in the rush and press of modern life.  These moments come to us alone in nature, or with a baby, making love, playing with children, caring for a dying person, making music for the sake of music or beauty for the sake of beauty.  At such times a simple and easy joy shows us the futility of the vast, life consuming program of management and control.  We intuit that something similar is possible collectively....Another way of being is possible.  --Ascent of Humanity
Across this country and around the world, individuals are coming to the same conclusion.  This isn't working.  Something has to change.  The Occupy movement has served to bring many of these issues to the forefront of our collective consciousness, and in various moments and instances over the past 9 months, has succeeded in catalyzing significant shifts.  Just yesterday the Huffington Post reported that Occupy Buffalo succeeded  in convincing the city council to divest 45 million dollars from JPMorgan Chase to be invested in a local bank and the local economy.  The national Move Your Money campaign chronicles many similar success stories.  The Transition Movement, which began in 2006, is also spurred on by this shift in our consciousness.  We know that "we are living in an age of unprecedented change, with a number of crises converging.  Climate change, global economic instability......"  We know that we must prepare for the changes ahead, yet we also know that we can not solve the problems of the old paradigm by continuing to operate within the old paradigm.   This is not a time to haul off to a cabin the woods with a 2 year supply of canned goods and live in isolation.  This is not a time to throw titanium dioxide up into the stratosphere because we think it might stave off the effects of global warming and we're sort of sure it won't make things worse.  This is a time for radical change and revolution-  not the violent and destructive revolutions of the old paradigm, but a revolution of values, a revolution of consciousness, what Buddhists call a human revolution- "transforming our lives at the very core.  It involves identifying and challenging those things which inhibit the full expression of our positive potential and humanity."

Shift happens.  It is happening now.   From the the myth of the separate self to a new consciousness, a connected self.   From a paradigm of centralized power and control to one of collective empowerment.  From profit based systems that degrade our earth, disrupt our climate, destroy our health and communities to "New Economics, including negative-interest currencies, local currencies, resource-based economics, gift economies, and restoration of the commons."  This is a time for profound transformation, as the cost of inaction at this point is simply too great.

This blog, in future installments, will discuss my personal exploration of the many ways to "get on board" with this paradigm shift:  divesting from corporate banks and moving our money to local credit unions, supporting Transition Towns in preparing for a sustainable post-carbon future, participating in Timebanks and local gift economies, starting a worm bin, a compost, a rain water catchment system, a backyard garden, utilizing alternative and renewable energy resources, "re-skilling" ourselves and our communities in local food production and preservation, focusing on production rather than consumption, generally opting out of the systems and structures that have failed to serve us, investing in community, working for social justice, and striving to remain positive, hopeful, connected, and even joyful in increasingly uncertain times.  I hope that you will continue to follow along, both in readership and in action.

For more information on the work and ideas of Charles Eisenstein visit:
http://charleseisenstein.net/
http://sacred-economics.com/
http://www.ascentofhumanity.com/

Inspiring videos can be found at:
The Revolution is Love
Sacred Economics-  An Evening with Charles Eisenstein



Sunday, May 27, 2012

We got time.... a whole lot of precious time...

When I first heard about Timebanking, I thought it sounded like a wonderful way to build community.  You sign up for your annual membership and get 4 time dollars.  Then you go to the website and see what folks are offering.  Maybe you want to take a 1 hour guitar lesson or get a massage, have someone bake you a pie for your dinner party Friday night, or give you a ride to the airport.  To earn more "time dollars" you post things you'd like to offer someone:  weed a neighbor's garden, volunteer for a local non-profit, or babysit for a neighbor's child.  It's a one hour to one hour equal exchange; the more you offer (or respond to other's needs) the more time dollars you earn, and the more you can tap into the resources in your community.  Sounds great, right?   Suddenly you know your neighbors.  You're being valued for things you love to do that maybe don't necessarily fit in to your regular job.  So you're a lawyer or an accountant....  you can also offer to teach someone quilting if that's your dormant passion.  I hurried up and got a family membership to TimeBank Media before we even moved thinking...  maybe we'll need some help painting a new house, or someone to watch our toddler while we unpack.  I could even start to do a little grantwriting for the Transition Team this summer and earn time dollars before we arrive!  I never imagined in my wildest dreams that Timebanking could also be a means by which to address such pressing social issues as:

* reducing recidivism among formerly incarcerated community members
* food deserts in economically disenfranchised communities of color
* breaking the school to prison pipeline through restorative justice programming
* reintegrating Veterans back into the community and workforce in meaningful and affirming ways
* creating a safety net for the unemployed and underemployed 
* bridging the achievement gap
* eliminating social isolation of the elderly
* creating a local solution to global economic injustice and corporate greed

And the list goes on and on and on......   So, how exactly does baking an apple pie for your neighbor do all that?  For answers, we turned to Stephanie Rearick of Madison, Wisconsin and the Dane County Timebank, the largest in the nation with over 2000 members.  Stephanie lead a full-day intensive workshop on Timebanking Friday May 25th at the Smedley Park Environmental Center in Wallingford.  Stephanie shared countless examples of how Timebanking is creating value and building stronger communities all over the world.  As an educator and youth advocate, I was particularly impressed by the example of the Time Dollar Youth Court, a model that comes out of Washington DC, but is spreading to other communities in the US as well.  

Young people of color in this country are policed, incarcerated, and sentenced at double the rate of their white counterparts.   Students of color face harsher  punishment in school then their white counterparts, hence the "school to prison" pipeline that devastates the lives of so many young people.   In Dane County, with the help of one police office working in collaboration with the Timebank, a new system was developed by which youth "offenders" are sentenced to a youth court rather than being issued a ticket.  Before a jury of his or her peers, the "offender" shares his or her story, and is then asked to share his/ her gifts and goals before sentencing.   The sentence may include a letter of apology in addition to meeting with a Timebank member for a money management lesson, skills building apprenticeship, or in one case, a series of drum lessons.  Timebank members earn "time dollars" for their time spent mentoring youth.  The youth can then earn time dollars by serving on the Youth Court jury and by participating in the community in other meaningful ways--  in essence, sharing their gifts.   In this way, young people are viewed as assets and are valued by the community.  Social connections are formed that could not otherwise be provided by a police officer or a judge, and the community builds its capacity to keep kids out of trouble.   The Time Dollar Youth Court was so successful that the model was eventually brought into several schools in Madison, per request of the superintendent.   As the schools partnered with the Timebank, they too were able to make contributions to the community and earn "time dollars", which in turn were used to bring in yoga teachers, youth mentors, and professional development for teachers.   

Such initiatives demonstrate the far-reaching possibilities of a Timebank to bridge gaps, address issues of social justice, and build stronger more resilient communities.   But let's face it, for a lot of people it's hard to imagine where one would find the time to help a neighbor with their garden, let alone teach a young person how to balance a checkbook or play the guitar.   The laundry is piling up.  There are groceries to buy, meals to make, children to bathe, bills to pay, and our own friends and family we are having trouble keeping up with because we are so busy.   "Forget putting an hour in to help someone else, I don't even have an hour to go get a "free" massage if I wanted to!" is the response many thoughtful and caring people have to the idea of a Timebank.   In fact, I find myself thinking in this manner much of the time.   I can't give because the needs of my own job/ home/ family are too great.   I just don't have time for Timebanking!   But what if you could open to the possibility of someone in your community earning a time dollar by cleaning and putting away your camping gear, or coming in to fold those four loads of laundry.   Might that free up some of your time to give your child a bath or make dinner?   And while you are making dinner, could you perhaps double your recipe and bring a meal to a neighbor or is recovering from surgery?   What Timebanking asks of us is to make a subtle shift in our thinking.   It's not that I have this long list of things that I have to do to take care of myself and my family.   It's that within our larger community there are a great many needs and a great many assets.   By valuing each other's gifts and working together in this reciprocal exchange, we build valuable connections and experience a great many more resources and opportunities.   

Friday night, we had the great privilege to hear from Timebanking Founder Edgar Cahn and his wife Chris Gray.   While timebanking has evolved over the last 10 years in different shapes and forms, Edgar says that timebanking is essentially a "medium of exchange that values what it means to be a human being."   Our assets and values are not about "market price".  Rather, this new medium of exchange emphasizes equality, human to human connections, social justice, and community resilience.  It is a critique of an older outdated monetary system that is no longer working for the majority of people on the planet, and it is part of a larger paradigm shift which Charles Eisenstein, author of Sacred Economics and Ascent of Humanity, discussed on Day 2 of the Timebanking in Transition conference.    Stay tuned for a follow-up blog post on the second part of the Timebanking in Transition conference and learn about how Timebanking and the "gift economy" connect to the larger Transition Movement. 



Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Moving to Media: Why we chose a Transition Town

This past February my husband, Ibrahim, came back from an interview at UPenn brimming with excitement about his new job prospect.  Philly?  I could hardly wrap my head around it.  I grew up an hour outside Philadelphia, and while I longed for the rural landscape of my childhood, I could not for a moment picture myself living in Center City.  Not even a suburb, for that matter.  I wanted to move from Boston, be closer to family.  But I was envisioning being "nestled in the foothills of the Blue Ridge mountains".  What about the position at UVA?  Moving near my sister in Charlottesville?  No.  Ibrahim clearly had found a home at UPenn and was excited too about the varied acting opportunities the Philly theater scene presented.  I had to figure out a way to get behind this plan.

I locked myself in the office for the next two hours and poured over google maps, web resources for Philadelphia parents....  I began by searching for outdoor activities.   Where do people go apple picking, hiking? Where is there a Farmer's Market?  It didn't take long for me to hone in on Upper Providence, a township just west of the "Blue Route".  There one can find easy access to Tyler Arboretum, Ridley State Park, and Linvilla Orchard, but still take the train into the city is under half an hour.  I then started to sift through the surrounding towns:  Newtown Square, Swarthmore, Wallingford, and Media.

I was immediately struck by Media's town website.  The self-proclaimed "Everybody's Hometown" boasted a variety of family friendly community oriented events:  a Farmer's Market, several music festivals each year, and a "Dining Under the Stars" event, when the main street through town is shut down every Wednesday night through summer to allow for al fresco dining.  But it was when I noticed Media's status as the "First Fair Trade" town in the United States that I really began to be intrigued.  Perhaps we were onto something here.  As I dug deeper into my research (all the while locked in my office refusing to answer either Ibrahim or Aya's pleas for me to join them in the playroom), I discovered that Media is also a Transition Town.  A what?  I'd never heard of the term myself, but the more I read the more I suspected I had in fact found our new home.


I learned that the Transition Movement was started by a permaculture educator, Rob Hopkins, in Ireland in 2005.  The first Transition Town emerged in 2006, followed by the Transition Network in the UK and Transition US in the United States in 2007.  Today there are 117 Transition Towns in the United States alone.  So, what the heck is it??   The Transition Movement, in a nutshell, recognizes that the way in which we are currently living on the planet is completely and utterly unsustainable.  We simply do not have enough fossil fuel resources to continue in our present manner of consumption and waste, and we must begin to prepare for a post-carbon economy.  The way to do this is from the ground up, building resilient communities working creatively and collaboratively to "design new ways of living that are more nourishing, fulfilling, and ecologically sustainable." 


Having discovered a passion for ecology and sustainable development in college, I spent my junior year abroad traveling to various "eco-villages" and learning about passive solar heating and cooking, organic farming, permaculture, and living in intentional community.  I stayed at Tich Nhat Hahn's Plum Village in France and Auroville in Tamil Nadu, India, among other places.  For several summers I also lived and worked on Pinon Eco-village in Pojaque, New Mexico.  I am the kind of person who is fascinated and thrilled by the prospect of converting cow dung into usable methane gas for cooking oatmeal (the best oatmeal I've ever had!)  And I live with a general sense of anxiety knowing with each disposable diaper that I throw into the trash that I am through my daily existence contributing more to the problem than the solution.  The last 5 or 6 years I have been wholly focused on "establishing a career" and motherhood, but deep within me has been a not so quiet yearning to escape city-life, plop down on a farm somewhere, grow my own tomatoes and learn how to can them for winter (and maybe give those cloth diapers a try).  This past year my book club read "Radical Homemakers" by Shannon Hayes and I recognized for the first time that one does not need to escape society in order to live a value creative life with a smaller carbon footprint.   You can make your own soap wherever you live, and if you live in community, all the better to do so collectively.


So, after 2 hours locked in my office on the computer, I emerged to the playroom.  "Ok, you can take the job at UPenn on one condition: we have to move to Media, PA so I can join this Transition Town team they've got down there."  Followed by a whole lot of explaining.....


Since then I have made connections with the Transition Town Media, and have been overwhelmed by the welcoming response we have received from members of the community.  I am excited to discover what role I can play in supporting this amazing initiative.  In fact, tomorrow I am heading down to Media, PA for a 2 day "Timebanking in Transition" conference.   Curious about Timebanking and how it connects the the Transition Movement?  Stay tuned!  I will have much more to report in a few days.