For parents and everyone the advent of Summer inevitably brings along with it a string of seasonal wonders and a certain set of challenges, scheduling changes, and out of school time activities to determine and implement.
For me and my family this summer was no different. There was camp to organize. Summer trips to consider. Summer work schedules to juggle. And the age-old question of what to do with a teenager, camp, work, volunteer, or couch potato?
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I don't think you ever know as a parent whether you're making good decisions at any given time. You can only ever do your best to consider all the options and Hippocratically hope that at the very least your choices do no harm to your children.
And so it is that we model through the beauty and Heat that is the south Florida summer in search of shade from the intense sunshine and splashes of 85 degree water which we consider cool.
The search for balance is epic and continual. Just as you think you've got things figured out, something else happens to make you start from scratch.
Marie Huntley, aka Ms. Peaches is a force to be reckoned with in the Sistrunk community of Fort Lauderdale. An extremely talented singer, doer and community historian, Ms. Peaches is one of those people who is alway encouraging good stuff to happen in her neighborhood.
I've been thinking a lot about stories, storytelling, history and how we each find inspiration and encouragement to keep going in times of difficulty, and to go as far as we can in times of joy... about how we can see mirrors of our story in the histories of others... and how important our stories are, to ourselves, our families, and our communities. Together, our stories are our true history.
So often, we tell versions of history that have been learned from books, or elders, or the land and geographies that we've come through... but every once in a while, we get to reflect, and tell a little bit of the story that comes through us, from our own life experience. It is these nuggets of light, understanding, memory and insight that I find most impactful when listening to the words people share.
So, in the spirit of reclaiming our own narratives, telling our own stories, and with the encouragement of Ms. Peaches... here goes:
My story begins in the hearts of the continents we now know as America, Africa and on that island we now call the UK. My heartbeat began in the womb of a woman who survived a thousand wars, over six continents, from a seed planted by the grandson of a hunter who'd been on his island for almost a million years.
My parents remain one of the most unlikely odd couples to make it through 45 years of marriage in the most dire of social realities. One of the things they had in common was that they were both immersed in the lifestyle of 1950s anglican ministry. My mother talks about attending church sponsored after school activities every single day of the week. My father was an altar boy, though I don't ever remember his mother, my grandmother speak about church, except for christenings, weddings and funerals. But for all their early involvement in church, almost all my early memories are of being with my parents at parties, gatherings and outside on the land, either in the back yard, on a beach or near a river. I spent almost all my summers either scouring the Scarborough Bluffs or scampering up the steps of the Maya "pyramids" and sometimes, both! I didn't play video games or even board games, really, my toys were twigs, flowers and found objects. And my favorite pass time was sauterning along the edges of the water and the wilderness... in that respect, not much has changed.
My earliest memory of school is walking along the fence, picking up sticks, and using them to play the chain links like a piano, listening to the different sounds the metal would make depending on the size, length and width of each stick. I still remember a few of the songs and poems I learned in pre-school. My mother tells me that once, when I was four, we were walking in "The Guild Inn" and she couldn't find me anywhere... only to look around a large boulder to find me teaching a group of German tourists my favorite nursery school song, and they were singing it too, despite the fact that they spoke no English, nor I German. Art and teaching are in the blood. My mom and dad met teaching, I spent a year living with my Aunt while she was an art and history teacher, my sister taught art and, despite my mothers advice to the contrary, I also taught math and social studies through art for 7-12 graders. My passion now, though, is community based education. Those formal and informal learning opportunities we place in front of folks to learn something new, whether they thought they wanted to know or not. This translates well to a variety of interests, like community outreach, social media, museums, health, wellness, prevention programming and community building.
The work my mother put in to making sure that I know as fully as possible who I am propelled me to pursue a career in anthropology, archaeology, art and wellness. At the tender age of 17, I won an entrance scholarship to York University in my hometown of Toronto. Working my way through college, I spent my summers at the Government of Belize's Department of Archaeology, and winters working part time at the front desk of the Royal Ontario Museum and as a research assistant to Dr. Elizabeth Graham. I had so many wonderful women helping me learn during these adolescent years: Pauline Shirt, Deanna Sheridan, Sadie Buck, and the late Shirley Shilling & Irma Martin, just to name a few of the feminine forces that helped shape my world.
Eventually, once I finally graduated, I went back to the Belize Department of Archaeology to work as staff Museologist/ Curator as part of the Maya Area Sites Development Programme. When that grant funded project was complete, I took what I thought would be a two month break to spend time with my aging grandparents back in Toronto. That break led to an unexpected two year apprenticeship with one of Indian Country's most well known educators, Dr. Edward Benton Banaise. At the conclusion of working to help develop (and name) his most recent publication: Anishinabe Almanac, I once again thought I'd be heading home to my mother's land in Mesoamerica. This time, it was the opening of a community based school chartered specifically to teach Native American youth through an integrated arts approach that kept me grounded in the Midwest. It would be another 13 years before I finally got the call from my mother that it was time I returned to their chosen home halfway between Mesoamerica and the Great Lakes: The Greater Everglades region, right here in #OurMiramar.
So after earning my Bachelor of Arts Degree, being made Midewiwin, earning my Mexica traje, and working alongside some of the very best educators, historians, community builders and storytellers, I packed up the treehouse apartment, and headed back to the Sunshine State. That was four years ago now. I've completed all my life goals, except one: to relearn one of my ancestral Maya languages. I know words here and there, from the study of archaeology and danza, but to be able to string those together in a sequence, to speak thought into being through language, my language... that is the one thing I have yet to do on this earth... hopefully before it's time for me to return my borrowed bag of bones to the Mother Earth from whence they were constructed.
We all come to this conscious part of Earth with a gift and for a purpose. Mine is to be as fully who I am as I can. It's a journey that I'm still on, still struggling with every day, and also one in which I find great joy and satisfaction. I hope that sharing this small piece of who I am will help to encourage someone out there to pursue their passion a little further, persevere a little longer and reach a little higher, for what we aspire to is what we are here to do.
Just a few words this evening on the eve of Dias de los Muertos... a reminder, an encouragement, a perspective that is gaining traction in the spheres of business and policy innovation... I'm talking about that old adage: don't bite the hand that feeds you.
Right now, a battle is brewing on the prairie, yes, that very prarie we all used to watch with love in our hearts for the simplicity, tenacity and perseverence of those beloved characters... a battle not unlike that of Alcatraz, Sand Creek or Wounded Knee... a battle where our police, troopers and national guard are being deployed with military grade weaponry to wage war on unarmed, peaceful descendents of Sitting Bull, Geronimo, Crazy Horse, Chief Joseph. The crime? Attempting to protect our common water resources from destruction by an energy company determined to complete a 1000+ mile oil pipeline from the northern to the southern edge of that prairie.
The tactics haven't apparently changed much... surveillance, smear campaign, bait and switch, false victory, intimidation, humiliation, dehumanization, non-consentualexperimentalweapon test subjects... seems like we've been through this before... in the 1600's, 1700's, 1800's, 1900's and what's happening now is just a replay with a small upgrade in landing gear. It's gettin old & boring.
Time for the people who populate this island to wake up. Take note. Stop hitting the snooze button. And start acting as though we are the ones who are responsible for this state of affairs. This island is our responsibility and we need to acknowledge and then get down to it. Read. Be aware. Ask questions. Formulate solutions. Be tenacious.
Our future is based on the actions we take or choose to ignore today. A future based on development that considers Earth's resources as relatives to be respected and used as needed with kindess, love and appreciation... where everone's wellbeing, including those whose voices are not so easily heard, is accounted for... where the job goes not to the highest or lowest bidder, but the one who can demonstrate the capacity to incorporate everyone's voice... now that's a framework worth investing in!
No matter how great we become, we are all still children of our Mother Earth, it's her garden that feeds us, and her water that keeps on providing life for us all. Let's choose to work with her these next 10,000 years, shall we?
