For Us All

"I love you, gentlest of Ways,

who ripened us as we wrestled with you.

You, the great homesickness we could never shake off,

you, the forest that always surrounded us,

you, the song we sang in every silence,

you dark net threading through us,

on the day you made us you created yourself,

and we grew sturdy in your sunlight...

Let your hand rest on the rim of Heaven now

and mutely bear the darkness we bring over you."

 -Rainer Maria Rilke, 

translated by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy

Compassion for others

I found this quote yesterday and it strikes me as important to remember.  

"There are people in this world so hungry, that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread."  -Mahatma Gandhi

We often want others to take what we want to give them.  Sometimes people can only see what they need not what we think they need.  This is the nature of hunger and dissatisfaction. It is not their fault.  It is the fault of their condition.  We must have compassion to understand dissatisfaction.  It reminds me of what a mentor once told me, "The greediest people in the world are the richest and the poorest."  Wise woman she is.

Purity/Generosity

I just watched Arundati Roy on the different strategies of Resistance. She said something profound regarding our need for purity on the strategies of resistance. What we need is generosity for each other in embracing what we all do to resist in our struggles, be it for the end to the War in Iraq, decolonization, and the various movements for peace and justice in this world. Generosity is sometimes the hardest to give up when we are in the throes of doing and especially when we disagree with someone.

I wrote this sometime in August last year.  Reading this now gives me pause as I remember why I thought it was important.  In our efforts to make statements and make change for the better in our world, we come across people who may disagree with our viewpoint.  In movements, where we fight to reclaim or defend a place, principle, people or an idea it is easy to forget the humanity of those whom we are trying to move even those we call allies or friends.  Change is a process that requires compassion which in turn requires generosity on our part to be open to the other person's struggles with what we are asking for.  We can push our way for something, and I've been in that position, meaning in my staunchness was unwilling to compromise.  I remember the emotion behind that refusal.  It was anger.  I think I struggle with anger and what to do with that emotion around certain issues.  Under that though is sadness.  A good friend of mine taught me to look at what is underneath the anger.  Most of the time it is sadness.  An emotion that is hard to hold sometimes for it can be paralyzing.  

Sometimes the cause for my sadness is seeking purity and not finding it.  I strive for a place that exists only in my mind and refuse to see things for what they are.  I refuse to accept what resides in people's hearts.  I think that is a dangerous place to be, to refuse generosity to the differences in this world.  To refuse to see people for where they are at and not respect that place just because it is not where I would want them to be.  True compassion calls for embracing what is going on in other's hearts as we all struggle in the tides of Change.  Change happens in this world in many ways.  It can happen quickly in a flash or take time like the well worn stone found in a stream.  We have to be open to all ways of change. That is my mantra for today: I am open to the many ways of change.

P.S. The photo was taken at Makua Beach after the Makua Valley Vigil for the Holidays.   This is a value I hold dear, to engender hope during these times of great Change.

Write on, Mama!

Looking for something different to do with your girls ?
Start the New Year, right! WRITE!

Take a moment to "check" yourself:

Moms:
Yes No Have you kept a journal at any time in your life?
Yes No Do you think your life is too busy and there's no time to write?
Yes No Are there stories in your life you wish you could share with your daughters?
Yes No Are you convinced that all your creative juices have run dry?
Yes No Do you feel misunderstood and crave the companionship of other writing mamas who understand your experience?

Daughters
Yes No Have you kept a blog at any time in your life?
Yes No Are there stories in you life you want to write about?
Yes No Any stories you could share with your mother?
Yes No Do you want to feel heard? Do you crave the companionship of other girl writers who understand your experience?
If you answered yes to any of the above- take a mother/daughter time out together!

Give yourself and your daughter the gift of honoring your unique voices. Join Write on Mama! for a mother/daughter writing and creativity workshop!
Have fun and find connection with other mother/daughters! Each mother/daughter pair receives a journal keepsake with fun writing exercises to facilitate on going written communication during workshop and afterwards.
Mother/daughters also have the opportunity to share writing within a safe environment during the following Saturday, mother/daughter dance.

When: January 8 and 9 10 to noon each day (for mothers and pre-teen daughters 8-12) January 10 and 11. 10 to noon each day. (for mothers and their teen daughters 13-18) January 12 optional performance of work with a Mother/Daughter Dance 5 pm to 7 pm

Where: studioBE,63 N. Beretania Street, 2nd floor, Honolulu, Hawaii http://www.studiobehawaii.com/
$50 dollars for each mother/daughter pair
$10, for each additional daughter

To register and arrange payment:
Please call Grace or Moana at 351-4960

About Write on Mama facilitators:
Grace Alvaro Caligtan
Ever since small kid time, Grace began using a journal to help her understand and change the world for better. Today, she is an accomplished mother, experiential educator, and writer. Along with raising her 7 year old daughter, she births poems, plays, and essays. Most recently, she shared a few of her life stories in an all women's storytelling performance, Papayas and Bittermellon: Tales of Bitter and Sweet. Grace produced her first play, My Body My Space which addressed mother/daughter/grandmother communication issues around STDs, HIV, and relationship safety. She has performed in the GirlFest production of The Vagina Monologues and has produced a Filipina cultural adaption of The Vagina Monologues in Waipahu and Honolulu. Her musings on life can be found on her blogs: Pukengkeng Liberation Front and Hip Nanay.

Darlene Rodrigues
As a teenager, Darlene began a secret journal where she observed life in poetic form and thus began her creative journey. This secret writing blossomed into her poems being published in places such as Babaylan: An Anthology of Filipina and Filipina American Writers and Amerasia Journal. Later she realized that poetry was not enough and she began to perform in Los Angeles with the Kalo Projects. Last year she performed in the Filipina cultural adaptation of The Vagina Monologues. Also a videomaker and Olelo producer, Darlene has created educational programs teaching middle school students in Kalihi about video production and the role of self-expression in their lives Around town, she can be found reading her poetry at venues such as The Contemporary Museum, Honolulu Academy of Arts and re:Verses. She is eager to help youth listen to their inner voice and find the courage to uncover their creative fire.

Our Master, Our Monster

Day 1 of the Meetings in SF
It's been an eventful day. We started off by waking up to the Mission District with all it's lovely and no so lovely smells. We stayed with Anj's family overnight. First I have to say we ate the best Mexican food last night which was also cheap!! We walked around the mission and visited Balmy Avenue and the many murals in the district. The picture is of one in another alley which Auntie TK calls Piko Art. I loved it and post it to center me. We had our first dinner together tonight as the network. Women from Guam, South Korea, Okinawa, Japan, CNMI, Philippines, Puerto Rico and the US joined us in a circle. Tonight we introduced ourselves to each other in a unique way. Each woman said her name, where she was from and the gift she brings to the meetings. We sang her name back to her accompanied by using our hands to symbolize her journey and how we bring her name into our hearts. It was poetic and it sounds dorky describing it, but what I got from it was profound and moving. I remember a woman who said that brought her ancestors with her. Another woman whose ancestral ties come from Oceania talked about her endurance. Another woman talked about the gift of her anger. Each woman described something individually but what we felt at the end of the experience was what we embody collectively as people. We all hold anger, we all have endurance, we all bring our ancestors, our ability to connect, our open hearts, our hope. Our sense of humor through the darkness we also feel.

To further introduce ourselves, we split up into groups and were asked to find those we have a close affiliation, whatever that may be by nation, what was a nation, whatever. I saw Ellen and we looked at other Pilipina women in the diaspora, those who live in Hawaii or the US and ended up with the US group. I felt torn because I left Auntie TK and Summer alone. We were asked to identify the freshest wound we could identify with at the moment due to US militarism. I immediately felt the loss of my cousin then the feeling of violence we have from being in the belly of the beast or the "monster" as someone from the Philippines calls the US. We talked about the racism, about domestic violence, of the disconnection and the internalized violence we have in the US, the disempowerment we have ironically as people who come from one of the superpowers of the planet. We were asked to come up with a vision and a concrete action we could do as a group. This was also quite difficult. We talked abstractly, we addressed individual needs to address violence. I said what if the US gave up Hawaii, Guam, Puerto Rico and other places. I know it's pie in the sky, but I wasn't satisfied with something personal. I figure since we are in the belly of the "monster" we should go for something big. Someone asked well what about those of us eg. Filipinos. What are we to do? Leave? I said well it's up to the Kanaka Maoli, they will decide. We have to ask if they want us to stay, we can't assume. We have to trust that they will hold us in their hearts. We have to give up our need for power and trust them. We should not operate from a place of fear. Where does that leave us, most of the folks in the group come from immigrants, none of us native, native to the land called America, except by birth? Just because we were born in US, is this land our birthright? We are in occupied territory, aren't we? Colonized territory? Where does a non-native stand in the vision for self-determination. What kind of self-determination does a disconnected/dispossessed American of non-white ancestry have to the land we live on? Ultimately, self-determination was the vision the US group wanted to hold which would encompass self-determination for dealing with interpersonal violence, violence within and between communities and internationally.

What every group reported back was powerful. Some of the women in the Philippines were denied visas to come to the US. The women of Korea talked about how they felt being treated like criminals to want to travel to the US, from the visa application through coming to customs. The women from Hawaii, Guam, Puerto Rico and CNMI came up with a lovely metaphor of a volcano which is fertile and can create something new. The women from the Philippines came up with 1621. It's been 16 years since the US bases were closed down and 21 years since the overthrow of Marcos. Since that time the presence of US military in the Philippines has escalated and the number of political killings has over tripled since Marcos' time. 16 and 21 years ago there was a strong American movement against Marcos and the US Bases that does not exist today. There are over 1 million Filipinos in the US who send money home, who do not want to talk back to the Master because they serve the Master to feed their families. They want big steps. They need big steps to be taken to deal with the militarization in the Philippines by the US. The Okinawan women talked about the presence of US military feeling like being beaten over and over again. Their visceral description was akin to jabbing and jabbing. The women of Japan talked about the tension of what group to belong to because while they feel a deep kinship with the Okinawan women they have no place being with that group. They needed to give up the need to be with that group when they were coming from a base of power (Japan) and formed their own group. They felt sad because they thought they had dealt with this subject 10 years ago, but the relational issue to power is still there. It reminded me of the work we have to do in Hawaii and the Unsettle Hawaii group and why the need to have our own group to figure out what work we have to accomplish. We have to find some meaning for what self-determination might mean for those of us who live and whose power base is from the belly of the "monster". This is unique and different than what the Kanaka Maoli community must do for themselves. Our quest is to discover what that might mean, then perhaps we can then figure out how not to serve the Master, Our Monster.

Hay(na)ku

At last night's Rant and Rave celebrating the 2nd anniversary of Da Space, Grace read some of her hay(na)ku she wrote while puzzling through her play, "My Body, MySpace". She said she found the structure beautiful in its succinct form as it helped her to focus the intent in her work. Brilliant! I wrote using the form today and found Eileen Tabios website on the subject. http://haynakupoetry.blogspot.com/.

I also had the good fortune of sharing my desire of doing a video documentary project on the death of my cousin, SGT Myla L. Maravillosa who died while serving in Iraq with a Kanaka Maoli filmmaker, Meleanna Meyer. She gave me wonderful suggestions and I hope to chart the progress of my work here in Hay(na)ku form.

Doubt
Shadows me
Tripping my confidence

What
Story on
Video will I

Tell
Others who
Seek to know

"That’s
Interesting, wanting
To be a

Nun
While serving
As a soldier"

Contradictions?
The truth
Died with her

Death of a Citizen

I read the following poem on the eve of the 4th of July this past week at Bringing Back Kerouac, a poetry venue at Anna Bananas in Honolulu. Lately, I've been thinking of this theme-the Death of a Citizen. This theme has been on my mind since reading about Cindy Sheehan's recent departure from the movement so to speak. I've realized that I have written a poem for each anniversary of the Iraq war. I hope to stop writing these in the future.

4 years and 1 anniversary are enough for me

I’m here because of love and because
Love embraced my cousin and carried her to heaven
In the blast of an RPG
I’m here because she was a compassion personate who loved everyone
Even you, Mr. Bush
Even your greed cannot take away the glory of who Myla is
And the lessons she taught me

This may sound strange
But I confess after reading Eckhart Tolle and the Dalai Lama
I truly love you
I know this is coming from someone who is wearing this shirt but
I love you enough to tell you no more
Tell you we must stop
Love the world enough to know there should be no anti in my anti-war poem
As I struggle to turn around what you spit
Your Lies, betrayal, smoke and mirrors
The Doublespeak of greed propped as foreign policy
Your Occupation feigning as humanitarian aid

I struggle to turn around
What you tell the mothers, fathers, and the families
Who have paid the ultimate sacrifice
I struggle to turn around when you gave Auntie a check to go with her body,
Placed a flag on her casket
Held choke memorial services and say we will never forget
I struggle to turn around when you told us we’re proud and
You should be proud of
Your dead daughter who died serving our country
Even if it was for a pack of your lies

I love you enough to tell you
You cannot buy our silence
You will not buy our complicity
You want our loved one’s death
To mean something
Well, you better listen

I love you and the world enough to tell you,
Fuck you, stop telling me I’m not proud of my loved one
When I tell you that our country should not occupy
Should not lie
Should not kill and arm ourselves with nuclear technology
Should not embargo or send in more troops
I love you enough to tell you
Stop spreading your bases in too many places

I love you enough to tell you
Take back the flag you drape on the caskets
Take back your false honor
And the blind patriotism shoved down our grieving throats
We’ve already wept enough

I love you enough to tell you what I am proud of
I am proud of her regardless of the circumstances of her death
I am proud because she was someone who cared about the poor
Who worried about the Iraqi children and the world that they lived in
I am proud because she kept her honor and kept true to her word and went
I am proud because she wouldn’t have used her own death as a reason to oppress another human
I am proud because she knew of the conflict between holding the bible in one hand and a gun in the other

Mr. Bush the lesson from Myla runs deep
This comes from the love that will save this world from you when I say
Fuck you
Step back
Keep your pack of lies and dirty tricks
And listen when I say “enough already”
My words will never erase the anniversary my family will celebrate each Christmas
We cannot erase the anniversaries of other families who’ve lost someone
But I love you enough to tell you no more
We need to stop making these anniversaries.