Farewell To "The Clamp"

"You should remember that though another may have more money, beauty, and brains than you, yet when it comes to the rarer spiritual values such as charity, self-sacrifice, honor, nobility of heart, you have an equal chance with everyone to be the most beloved and honored of all people."  -Archibald Rutledge

I found the preceding quote from an old power point from a presentation that Drake Martin had delivered three years ago during a training session at our Joint Training Day for The University of Iowa, Iowa State University, and The University of Northern Iowa. The presentation was on trust and how we as housing staff could work more diligently to be trustworthy individuals and build a covenant of trust with those we came in contact with. As with most of Drake's presentations it was well received by the audience and this quote that closed the presentation was the perfect embodiment of who Drake Martin was and the impact he sought to have on the world around him.

When I lose someone meaningful in my life unexpectedly my brain does not know how to respond to the flood of grief, memories, and attempts to remember how things were left. Since I am not always the world's best verbal processor around my emotions, I turn to the page to reflect on my friend and mentor Drake Martin, who died this past weekend after falling from a cliff at a State Park at the age 62, after 30 years of service as the Assistant Director of Residence Education at UNI. I had the honor of working with Drake for four years as a Hall Coordinator at UNI.

The sheer absurdity of Drake dying from falling off a cliff is like one final pun and life lesson from the pun master himself, one last lesson from a man that taught me so much. Those of you that know me know that I guard the the title of mentor closely but there is simply no other title for what I gleaned from Drake. I simply would not be the professional I am today without the experiences that Drake (and Lyn) allowed me to have as a Hall Coordinator at UNI. 

The opportunities at UNI as a Hall Coordinator are second to none, especially in the realm of Residence Education. There was no assigned programmatic model at UNI, no specified number of programs the staff had to complete, no dictated dogma of what students "needed" to be successful. Instead Drake worked with each HC to create a responsive model that would address the varied needs of the students in that specific building, based on what the HC was seeing and assessing was going on/needed in that building. For someone such as myself, with Ideation and Adaptability as strengths, it was a laboratory of possibilities. A chance to take the thoughts and ideas of graduate school and see what actually worked with a varied community of learners. I never had the same plan for two years in a row at UNI and Drake was with me step by step as we worked to see what was effective to build a community of "Citizens and Scholars". Staff at Iowa are familiar with The PATH, but those ideas existed at first as The Beast at UNI, an idea grafted from UWW and adapted to Campbell Hall for two years. An interactive programmatic model for student staff to use in lieu of scripted programming. Success and failures occurred, but Drake was behind me every step of the way with new ideas, new suggestions, and questioning me to make sure we were being intentional and thoughtful.

He helped me understand a different side of advising groups like RHA and NRHH by questioning the purpose of the organizations at multiple levels and if they were effective for our students in the halls...always with an eye on the individual student and how we made meaning for them and made them feel like they mattered, and how we worked to empower them to write their own experiences. His perspective was not always easy to hear for someone bred in the NACURH framework, but the challenge and support is something I think back on today as helping me to have shaped my own vision of philosophy of residential student leadership. Before I had taken the steps on my journey about what it meant to be socially just or a white advocate, Drake was teaching me about those roles through our conversations, gently challenging assumptions I thought were open-minded or behaviors I thought were inclusive. Anytime I gave a presentation he was at he was offering up suggestions on how to improve the moment or make things better for the next time, he helped me to embrace my Maximizer!

Some of my favorite interactions and times with Drake were when he told stories of himself and his experiences. A personal favorite was when he talked about his wrestling career and how he had earned the nickname "The Clamp" due to his prowess at holding an opponent down and unable to move. I loved to call him The Clamp when we got to spend time together. I also remember a staff development activity we had at one point during my time at UNI, and the details are fuzzy, but we were talking about some hope or desire, or dream or wish we wanted or thought about. Everyone went around the table sharing about their thoughts, dreams, aspirations...the kind of high minded idealism that surrounds an activity like this. When we got to Drake, he paused for a moment and simply stated...."Beyonce. I want Beyonce." Oh man did we have a great laugh at that.

That is what I will remember about Drake. The laughter, the eye rolls at his puns, the fact that our one-on-ones would always run long as we bounced ideas back and forth between each other, talked about politics, talked about our lives, and spent time together "being" with each other. We challenged each other and disagreed on many things, but he was always patient and willing to put up with me and my youthful over-confidence. I always knew he cared about me and my professional career, even when we sat on opposite sides of the issue. He was terrific to my wife Erin and my son Max when he was born during my third year at UNI. He gave Max a knit UNI stocking cap since he knew how much I loved the Panthers and cheering them along. All three of my boys have worn that stocking cap and we use it still.

I used to convince myself that Drake was out of touch and even swore to myself that if I reached the point in my career that he had that I would have considered my career only half fulfilled since he had been in the same position for so long without advancing. It would be some years later that I would realize that I was a fool (on this and many things you think when you are in your entry level job) and never saw that Drake was living the life I could only hope to achieve in my professional career. Luckily, I did see that in retrospect, talking to my current supervisor several years ago about how Drake had it all figured out. He had found a role where he got to make a difference, doing what he loved to do and what he was good at doing. He spent time with his family and put them in the proper place and raised two gifted and amazing daughters. He thoughtfully and intentionally gave back to the university and the community. He advocated for those with no voice and showed me what it meant to be a white advocate. If we view life as an attempt to figure out what it means to be human and live out those ideals in our work and daily life, then Drake Martin had done an amazing job of living his life. He made a profound difference in my life and so many others, and I will miss him.

Pain is White Bred...

...or, "I never realized how messed up it could be, being a white male,".

I have been working my way through Tim Wise's phenomenal book White Like Me: Reflections On Race From A Priveleged Son. I can't extol the virtues of this book enough as an entry text into the realm of social justice and especially privilege. Wise approaches privelege from his perogative as a white, but it is just as effective at stirring thoughts of privilege from perspectives as a male, heterosexual, middle class, American. If you have never read it or are interested in the subject matter, I highly recommend you pick this book up.

I was tearing through this book at warp speed, savoring the dissonance it was causing in my brain and allowing me to more fully grasp the concepts of justice and privilege I have been grappling with. Then I hit the chapter entitled Loss. This chapter is all about Wise grappling with the question of why anyone with privilege, be it grounded in race, gender, sexual identity, socioeconomic status, would willingly give up those privileges for the betterment of everyone and in the pursuit of equality. Wise spends the chapter examining the costs that privilege has on the privileged and it has stopped me dead in my tracks on several occassions to the point I have to put the book down lest I be blinded by the light of truth that comes in wave after wave of realization. It literally has taken me a month to go through 6-7 pages because it is so heavy in thought...but I have to plow through because the next chapter is Redemption and I need to hear that message.

The most striking thing about the Loss chapter is the pain. Now I am not talking about the pain that my privilege causes subordinated groups of people,that is a post for another time and something that those of you with subordinated identies know all about. I am talking about the pain that we as whites feel as a result of living in the insulated blanket of our privilege. Wise suggests that whites are hosts of a wide range of pathologies that are not consistent in other racial groups: higher binge drinking rates, higher drug abuse rates, higher suicide rates, higher proclivites for mass murder, more likely to develop eating disorders or self mutilate, etc, etc. The reasoning for this up tick in pathologies is directly linked to our battle for control.

You see, being white (and in my case male) carries with it a set of societal expectations or norms that have been crafted and cultivated by centuries of supremacy initiated and maintained by white males. These expectations have subconciously (and explicitly) told us that to be white means that you are to be the one in control, the one that is always supposed to win, or the alpha. However, as many of us know, that is not always the case for a variety of reasons. We are often confronted by a loss of control...we don't always win. For some this causes a dissonance that they can't explain and sometimes can't handle. Think of getting dumped, getting the bad grade, losing your job. These events are things that are not supposed to happen to someone with control, the winner. This dissonance sometimes passes and we get back into control, because as a privileged person we are often insulated from complete failure, or we cope with it in ways that are unhealthy. We cut, we drink, we ideate suicide, we starve ourselves. We cause ourselves pain...pain that has been created by us and for us through centuries of oppression of others.

Wise also expounds on the notion that our privilege makes us vulnerable to each other when we act out our pain. We move to the suburbs to escape violence, but we are confronted with school shootings, who are nearly exclusively white men. Men who feel pain at a loss of control they can't always explain. We see groups of people achieving or rising up beyond the circumstances we have put them in and we panic. We pass laws for more guns and easier access. We pass laws to shut down those that are not like us. We see our control slipping away and we are not equipped to deal with it. The pain causes us to lash out.

Now, this isn't dismissing that there are legitimate issues with mental health for some. Some people have chemical imbalances that need assistance from others. But having read and thought about this chapter, I think back to those times I read or watch the news and think, how could someone like that do something like that? They seem to have so much, why would they throw it all away? When I examine those on a deeper level now I see the loss of control, the feeling that you are not living up to the standard of what it means to be white or male. Exerting control in anyway you can, even if it is pathological or illegal, to try and get back to that place where you feel as you are supposed to be. To feel like you are back on top...in control.

I think about how this has manifested in my own life. I know people that have hit the snag in their life where things did not turn out the way they thought they would. An unexpected turn that takes away the control or that causes them to fail. They try suicide, the turn to drugs or alcohol, they gamble trying to get back to that place where society has implied they should be...powerful, in control. I have lived experiences where I have felt power or control slipping away and have acted out in ways that have taken power from others in order to try and give myself power back. I have sought control by controlling others. To deal with my own pain, I have given pain to others both subtly and bluntly.

So what are we to do? Hopefully Redemption has a few answers, but in the meantime I think back to conversations at the Social Justice Training Institute...sayings so simple that we heard them in our childhood, but forget them as the realities of a stark and seperated world knock us around. I repeat it to myself...and to you:

"I am enough."

Trying to Make Sense out of the Senseless

"When you look at unbalanced people, how they respond to the vitriol that comes out of certain mouths about tearing down the government. The anger, the hatred, the bigotry that goes on in this country is getting to be outrageous," said the sheriff. "And unfortunately, Arizona I think has become sort of the capital. We have become the mecca for prejudice and bigotry."
-Pima County Sheriff Clarence Dupni

Like many of you I have been watching the news coverage from Tucson yesterday and today and trying to make sense of a tragic act that defies explanation. People are ready to pounce and want to be able to point the finger and find blame to help explain away why someone would do something so unthinkable in a way that impacts so many innocent people.

My first reaction to hearing the news was "I knew this would happen". Not that I have some prescient knowledge of future events, but I do consider myself to be someone that is tuned into the political discourse and current events. For several years, especially over the past two, the level of vitriol and blatant metaphors for violence have exploded across the political spectrum. It has become acceptable in some sectors to bolster an argument, drive home a point, or set apart a difference with some blatant reference to violence, toughness, or other inflammatory element.

Two months ago I would have put myself at one end and easily pointed a finger at all the others that I felt were to blame for this. You can run the list in your own head I am sure. But I am not sure that that is productive. Rather than saying you are to blame or I told you so, I find myself wondering how I have contributed to this type of behavior. Have I been that person at times that has contributed to a toxic culture? I have prided myself in the past on being a "die-hard" liberal Democrat and have worked hard to try and advance the causes and purpose of the party. Part of that has been to demonize those that thought differently than me and look to score points through my knowledge or mastery of the argument. I prided myself as being "different" than those on the other end of the spectrum. Not only different, but being "better", setting myself apart....being a "good" white person, a "good" heterosexual, a "good" liberal, etc, etc, etc. In the end this didn't serve any purpose to the greater good than helping me feel better about myself.

I think now about those people spewing that hate and that anger and I try to relate. How has that been me in the past? They aren't at the other end of the spectrum, they are me in a lot ways. What needs to happen to turn the conversation in a positive way that recognizes that we are all people connected and needing to work together for the good of all of us. I am frustrated at all sides of the political argument that has allowed things to fester this long and get so ugly. I watched Bowling For Columbine again this week while I was home with a sick child and saw it through different eyes. I was reminded of it's messages again; that violent images in the media, massive gun ownership, and a history of violence in the founding of our nation are not just uniquely American, but still our rates of gun related murders far out pace anywhere else in the world. It plays on the premise that we are a nation that is grounded and rooted in fear. Fear that is perpetuated in ways that pit us against each other. Whether by race, class, gender, or many other identities, those in power now how to exploit our fears to not only keep their stranglehold on power, but to profit off of it and grow their power, all while keeping the door closed for those that simply want a place at the table and equality.

Liberal/conservative and Democrat/Republican, all sides have folks that work on behalf of their own privilege, that exist as part of the agency to keep their power in place and also oppression. Dylan Ratigan wrote a great piece on Huffington Post yesterday that captured some of the emotions I have been feeling from a justice standpoint on this tragedy. One of the things he wrote that really resonated was:

"It goes without saying that the events of today are a wake-up call for every American, regardless of their position in this society. And as we stand as a group at this violent fork in the road, will those within the power class take this wakeup call to acknowledge the responsibility they have to utilize their influence to serve the interests of increased fairness in America -- even if that requires the suffering of personal losses or losses among your powerbase ?

Understand that whether we like it or not, the personal indulgence of this exploitation by some in order to accumulate wealth and power is done so at a mortal danger to all Americans -- each likely as concerned for the wellbeing of this country as you, the passive class, may believe yourself to be.

America is in a desperate need of engagement by all of its citizens, and we all must understand that the luxury of denial and logical apathy among the passive can no longer be afforded."

I plan to cease the cycle of finger pointing and blaming and continue to look inward to see how I can combat the culture of power that allows groups and individuals to think that using these metaphors of violence and fear are appropriate ways to interact with the other humans we share our world with. Ratigan concludes with a powerful statement:

"While your voice may feel hollow by itself, the possibility of becoming part of a national chorus of awakened can serve as a deeper foundation for the compassion and wisdom to accept our own shortfalls and those of our leadership as we continue the national trip toward a more fair and free America."

First Reflections on My SJTI Experience

It's December 4th, 4:15 PST and I am sitting in a plane on a four hour flight to Chicago and I can't stop my tears from falling. I'm worried about the flight attendant noticing, or the woman across from me getting concerned because I am having trouble keeping it together, and I am thankful that this flight is terribly undersold and I have a whole row to myself lest the passengers who could be sitting next to me get freaked out.

But most of all I am freaked out because I can't figure out why I am having such an emotional reaction at this point and time after four intensive days of emotions. I want to know why it is only now that I am noticing the black man who was in front of me at airport security, getting asked to raise his sweatshirt as he goes through the metal detector, even though he is only wearing sweatpants, while no one asks me to raise my sweatshirt. Why am I having such a reaction to the flight attendant snapping the curtain across the door between first class and coach, even as I know that I counted the entirely white population of first class. Why do my ears perk up when the flight attendant laughs about being asked about what channel the in-flight movie is being broadcast in Spanish. How many times before this week did I never bother to notice any of these things? How many times did I walk by and remain silent, wrapped in the shroud of my own privilege and blinded by my own sense of entitlement gifted to me by my dominant identities?

I don't want to name my tears as tears of shame or tears of guilt, but I know that part of these tears are wrapped up in my own self-healing towards the process of owning that I am enough and that the time to start this work is now. It doesn't make it any easier. I think to myself that I may be the only white-skinned person on this plane thinking about race and what I am seeing and I suddenly feel very alone and overwhelmed about the journey that is in front of me. I know there are allies on-campus that want to work on issues of social justice, but I can't help wondering, do they feel as lost as I was before this experience?

I called myself an ally. I embraced justice. I talked the talk. What I realize now is that I had no clue how much I didn't even know. I feel like I was living a lie and my perceptions of what it meant to be an ally, a human, and an activist were so naive. Why did no one ever call me on it before? Did it give comfort and cover to others?

I know things are different now. I know that I am different now. I am not content. I am not comfortable. I am angry. I am on guard feeling hyper sensitive. I feel recoiled like a spring ready to pop and I am not sure how or when it is going to happen. And I want it to pop in a positive way that does ultimate good.

I am tired of continuing to exert myself in ways that take the grace from other people. I do not want this new grasp of my power or my new perspective to erupt in negative ways. I feel like a smolder was ignited with me the past four days and that it popped into flame while I sat at LAX reading the packet provided on re-entry.

I am scared about what it means to give up my place of privilege, but I am more scared about what it means to myself and those I care about if I don't. I am scared about the first step. What does it look like? Where will it be? What will the trigger be? Will I speak? What does it mean if I stay silent? Who will I lose in the process of speaking truth to power? Who will think this is just Greg's next "fad"? How do I embrace it authentically so it isn't just a "fad"? How can I even deign to write that when I know I am talking about people's lives?

I'm alive in a way that I have not ever felt. I sense. Empathy I am not sure that I ever knew I had is bubbling up. Anger I knew was there is bubbling up, but at the same time I am able to manage and see it with new eyes. Frustration is fluid. I am in the moment and I am ready to see, ready to speak.

The tears I cry are tears of sorrow and tears of shame for who I was, that person is gone. The tears I cry are tears of happiness for the person that I can be and for the world that I hope to create for everyone, but especially for my boys. The tears are for who I am, and I am enough.

There Certainly Is Ice, But Is There Really Just ice?

I welcome those that know me and those that don't as I begin another foray into the blogging universe to put my thoughts out there as if I have something meaningful to impart or some piece of treasured knowledge that would benefit those in the greater world. In the past I have always blogged about politics, that is to say specifically liberal Democratic politics. It is still an interest area, but I feel pulled/called/driven to pursue something different, and also to create a new niche for myself in this world and show up in a different way than I ever have before. To be sure, putting yourself into the electronic world is a journey and not without risks and perils. As I have been collecting my thoughts my mind does drift back to the old words of Bilbo Baggins as told by Frodo in the Lord Of The Rings:

'It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door,' he used to say. 'You step onto the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to.' -Tolkien

And so I too take a step from the doorway of my 'home'. Home is an apt word to describe where the motivation to start this blog came from, because the concept of home is representative of a place where you feel safe, where you feel comfortable, where you are sure of yourself and of your world and you can usually know what to expect, but also the place where you can close the door and get away from the outside world, to not have to see what you don't want to see, and can be a place to hide if you are not careful.

Recently I had the door of my proverbial 'home' kicked in after I attended the Social Justice Training Institute in Long Beach, CA. It was an intense experience intended to help the participants start to explore their own work that they need to do to be more effective in their work as diversity educators, social justice advocates, and I would argue as human beings. Having been someone that was in tune with these issues in the past I thought that I really got what Social Justice was about. However, after attending the Institute I realized that I don't think I got it at all...and that there was much more that I could be doing and much more that I needed to learn.

So this place and my new Twitter account are going to be the places where I seek to process what I am learning, what I am noticing happening around me in Iowa, and most importantly what I am doing to try and create the kind of world that I want to live in and want my kids to live in. It could be stimulating, it is likely to be frustrating at times, but I think it will be worth it...and honestly I can't just journal and keep it all locked away and not process it with folks!

First step will be to get enough courage to post my initial stream of thoughts that I wrote on my way home from SJTI. Hopefully I will be in that place soon!