Reading, Tribes, We Need You to Lead Us, has stopped my shallow breathing! Finally realized through reading Tribes that no one leads a project, they lead people. Or not.
Apparently Seth wanted to name his book, A Unicorn in a Balloon Factory.
Thanks to Seth’s book, I’m finally fully embracing that I am, in fact, such a creature.
Astonishing what happens when self-proclaimed “poor” people examine their thinking! Complete tear jerker when people realize their “I am poor” belief has kept them in bondage for decades.
My friend and colleague, Lynne Twist, in her book, The Soul of Money [p 237], shares about a time Buckminster Fuller came to dinner:
During this pivotal time Bucky was central to my life and work, and one night we were honored to have him come to dinner at our house. Our children were six, eight, and ten years old, and Bill and I, Bucky and our kids sat at our kitchen table. Bucky was often referred to as the ‘Grandfather of the Future’ and it was so exciting–such a gift–seeing him there with our children sharing a simple, home-cooked meal. At one point, my eight-year-old daughter, Summer, said something that was profound in the way children do, speaking a deep truth with their innocent insight. Her remark was a kind of showstopper for the three adults at the table–Bill, Bucky, and me–and we looked at each other, touched by the wisdom of this child.
Then Bucky said something that changed my life and my relationship with my children forever. He said to Bill and me, ‘Remember, your children are your elders in universe time. They have come into a more complex, more evolved universe than you or I can know. We can only see that universe through their eyes.’
The following Youtube video captures Severn Suzuki in a showstopping speech to the UN at the Earth Summit in 1992. From the intro to this video on Karmatube.org, “Born and raised in Vancouver, Severn Suzuki has been working on environmental and social justice issues since kindergarten. At age 9, she and some friends started the Environmental Children’s Organization (ECO), a small group of children committed to learning and teaching other kids about environmental issues. They traveled to 1992’s UN Earth Summit, where 12 year-old Severn gave this powerful speech that deeply affected (and silenced) some of the most prominent world leaders. The speech had such an impact that she has become a frequent invitee to many UN conferences.”
My daughter sent me the link to Servern’s speech.
…[Oscar Wilde]
If ending poverty is tied to a consistent level of GDP growth, it follows that ending poverty is a time-bound pursuit. To figure out timeframes for ending poverty, development experts often use a mathematical equation, a country’s expected percentage annual GDP growth times number years at anticipated percentage annual GDP growth equaling GCP level considered to allow for an acceptable number of poor people. For low income countries, this GDP growth approach will take decades.
The following quote from a Brookings Institution Center on Children and Families report illustrates that even after decades of US GDP growth, there are still unacceptable levels of child poverty.
During the 1960s, [US] child poverty fell by more than half, to 14 percent. In the subsequent three decades, however, child poverty drifted upward in an uneven pattern, never again reaching the low level achieved in 1969. This is a surprising and discouraging record.
Through thirty years of my own independent research into the mindset of poverty, The stressful belief that one does not have the means to create what is personally meaningful, I have satisfied my working thesis that the work of ending poverty is being addressed from the very mindset that holds poverty in place. Individuals are leading poverty interventions believing they cannot create what their mission holds to be meaningful.
How do you feel when you think the thought, ending poverty is impossible? Is your imagination available to to when you think this thought?
How do you feel when you think the thought, ending poverty is possible? Is your imagination available to you when you think this thought?
What thoughts make a world without poverty imaginable?
What thoughts must be left aside in order to imagine a world free of poverty?
Date: Mon, 16 Jun 2008 18:46:58 +0300
From: “aristarchus munish”
To: Nirvana Cable
Subject: Just a few Thoughts
Hallo,
Hope you (and Sussie) had a restful weekend. Mine was restful but rather thoughtful.
I have had an opportunity to reflect on our 3 week or so time together. And it has been fascinating.
When you jetted into Kenya 3 weeks or so ago one thing was clear to you: that though your other visits to Kenya you have always been clear of what you wanted to do, this time round you were not clear! This indeed surprised me. For the period I have known you, I have known you for your clarity in whatever you want to do. Amidst that uncertainty, you began to engage us in conversations which has seen us land into many opportunities. Whenever I pose to reflect on all these, I can’t help but deduce that your lack of clarity of what you wanted to do meant you were open to any (new) possibilities, and so it has turned, this far! Day after day, many and great gates have opened before us - UNIDO, Department of Culture, Ass. Minister (National Heritage), MP’s, Executive Director - NGO Coordination Board, etc. All had positive responses. What a high level of deals!
So now, is transformation possible? Or simply put, is poverty eradication possible? I have asked and answered this question many a times. All my answers have been on the affirmative. But is poverty eradication really possible? I have had my doubts. But I am now very confident that this goal is achievable. I say Yes with confidence. What I have witnessed in the past few weeks has cast away any shadow of doubt. First,our meetings with high-profile people has cleared any “ifs” from me, for if we manged to attract the most unexpected within such a short time, then poverty can also be made history within an equally short time. Secondly, your constant and confident reminder to us to think and act as though we have everything we need (dreaming into existence) has made me see a new Kenya within reach, sooner.
Third, our trip to Budalangi was rich in lessons. In a number of ways it reminded me of where I was a year ago. The first time I heard you say you are heeding God’s call to end poverty, I sat, at the room, awash with doubts on the feasibility of a “poverty-free” Kenya.This same feeling was portrayed in all the trainings we conducted. One very clear example is during our second training (On Saturday at 2pm) at Bunyala East.The poverty mindset was so manifest and entrenched into the minds of the people to an epic and disturbing degree. I felt terrified. Repeatedly, they refused to entertain a mere imagination of being rich! Oh no, not at their present times.I remember the incidence of the lady you called in front and took her through the “turn-around” questions. She [severely] resisted the imagination of how life would be to her when she is rich. It sounded as though in her life she has never met someone who would have such a conversation with her. And definitely she represented many similar and stubborn mindsets in the room (and perhaps in Kenya).
Another superb example was a man who constantly shook his head and softly kept saying “it can’t happen” whenever you asked “imagine how life would be like when you have all you need.” And surprisingly, when you told them if there was any who believed there is no poverty to follow you outside, they did so, including the man who perhaps to him it dawned that it possible to be rich. I was particularly impressed by how the “pastor” grasped the lesson especially during the turn-around questions. Truly, it was a training which introduced them into an entire new world.
Fourth, whenever poverty is mentioned, just no other answer is acceptable or tolerable. Any doubts, and those of Kenyan people too, can be put to rest by careful evaluation of the mindset training. The same Budalangi team responded quite differently in our third training (Monday, 10am), with them embracing the concept and putting it into practice. And what a timely moment it was to introduce the Truth and Reconciliation training! This reminds me of Winston Churchill’s words:
To look is one thing, to see what you look is another. To understand what you see is another. To learn from what you understand is something else. But to ACT on what you learn is all that matters.
All what they wanted is someone to encourage them; all they wanted is somebody to say, “yes, you can”. And we gave them the “yes, you can” spirit. Again, just no other answer is acceptable or tolerable.
Exciting, informative, directional, and extremely helpful are just some of the words to describe my experience for the past few weeks. You are truly one of the most effective and compassionate “social architect merchants” of the 21st century. You train from a considerable intellect but, more importantly, you train from your heart. You give considerable hope for the future which obviously give people a great deal of power in the present. This enables us to be more effective today, which means our tomorrows have to be better.
It’s good - very good.
Love,
Munish.
Susie and I arrived Friday morning after a 14-hour journey due to flight delays. Nairobi is 5000 feet, same as Denver. The fatigue of traveling combined with the high altitude did us in. We slept most of the day and night only rallying enough to meet with our team leader, David Momanyi, for an hour in the afternoon.
Yesterday, we had a team meeting with five key team members of GCM/Global Community Movement’s (the name they gave themselves). GCM members are all in their twenties. I met David in December 2005 on a trip to Nairobi with my then 15-year-old daughter, Rebecca “Angel,” who had just been appointed the US Country Coordinator for the Youth Employment Summit/YES Campaign. David was one of about 30 youth we met at a YES Kenya planning meeting. Some days after the meeting, we met with a UN youth leader. (In Africa, youth is a distinction meaning all people aged 18-35.) The UN youth leader, Robert, brought David to the meeting. He reintroduced David to me as a potential leader. Who knew?
Last May, on my way to Tanzania for a TEDGlobal meeting, I stopped in Nairobi. With David’s leadership, we spontaneously convened a meeting of 60 youth. Thus began GCM. At one point in this initial meeting, I became absolutely frustrated with the Kenyan culture of silence. During my first visit to Kenya in 2000, I led a workshop for 300 slum dwellers to address the mindset of poverty. During a discussion, I said that it seemed when someone stepped on their toes, they didn’t say, “Ouch.” The culture was encapsulated when a man responded, “What toe?”
Kenya is a chronically passive culture. So during the first GCM meeting, when I could feel a conversation wanting to happen and instead silence reigned, I got creative. I put them into small groups and had them come up with skits to say what they wanted to say. Magic happened. When safely “hiding” behind a role, their wisdom and profound social commentary emerged. Muttered confusion had been transformed into animated participation.
Of the 60 initial participants, 20 have been trained to lead GCM. Most would have continued with me, and I chose only those youth who were not attending university. I work with “idle” youth. Some are university graduates who have been un/under-employed since graduating. These youth created a powerful skit called The Time Bomb Machine which they have used to kick start four-hour conversations with communities around Kenya.
The skit starts with a man holding a watch. The viewer quickly learns that the watch must be reset back one minute, every minute. If dropped, the watch will kill everyone. The skit shows how hard it is to do everyday tasks while tending to the watch. Every “year” or so, the watch is pawned off on someone else, until one woman refuses to take on the responsibility for the watch. A scuffle ensues and the watch is dropped. Everyone falls to the floor expecting to be dead. They don’t die.
This skit leads into an extraordinary conversation about the community’s “time bomb” ideas. Leadership is discussed. Most Kenyans are seriously fed up with the status quo of political life. They put their faith, and fate, in leaders that are self-serving. During the discussions, every community has come to the same conclusion: They are the problem; not their “leaders.” For the first time in most communities’ lives, they realize they must work together if they are going to increase their standard of living. In four hours, communities take their first steps out of victimhood. They have also learned about representative democracy. Elected leaders are hired
with votes to represent the community’s agenda. The transformation is awesome.
This work to transform the mindset of poverty is the first of three stages of GCM’s community development work. We have identified two main behaviors which, if transformed, will make the biggest difference towards fulfilling lives — first, is the behavior of the culture of silence and, second, is the behavior associated with the belief that one can get something for nothing (the legacy of an aid-infused economy).
Phase One is transforming the culture of silence into Stand Up/Speak Up/Act Together. My definition of poverty is the perceived inability to create what is meaningful. “Poor” people’s thinking blinds them to resources at their very fingertips. The poor wait for someone to notice their plight and rescue them from their situation. The biggest industry, and the only one they understand, is government. Government is expected to create jobs and solve their problems. So they wait for the people “in power” and “in the know” to come to their aid. Hence, they are entrenched in waiting for something for nothing.
Phase Two replaces the behavior of waiting for something for nothing by teaching the mindset of investment. Several months ago, during a community meeting at Sofia Market, a typical “light bulb” went off. The community has vast sand pits. which are mined by local youth who are paid KS 200 (around US$3.25) per day to load sacks of sand. 5 men usually load sacks of sand that are trucked to Nairobi and sold for between KS 40,000 - 50,000 (US$655 - 820). How GCM knows the community has understood the lesson is we hear something like, “We are so stupid!” This community woke up to the cost of their poverty mentality. They realized they could take an available plot of community land and set up a sand depot where they can sell their sand at a fair price and use the proceeds to pay themselves better AND fund community development.
It takes so little to empower people once they have stepped away from the poverty mentality. The quarter-trillion dollar international development industry has a vested interest in keeping the solution to ending poverty very complicated and very costly.
Phase Three, which we are now entering, will provide capital to entrepreneurs. The first investments will be extended to entrepreneurs who will own Community Empowerment Centers. These centers will include Renewable Energy Kiosks where energy can be sold for both consumptive and productive uses. Rural communities currently rely on charcoal, wood and kerosene as their energy sources. These sources are harmful and more expensive than the micro-hydro, solar power, or bio-fuel powered generators being used to power Sustainable Energy Kiosks. UNIDO has expressed interest to partner and provide this technology.
These kiosks will also power entrepreneur-owned Digital Media Centres. These Centres will provide access to information and communication technologies; empower primary, secondary, and university education; deliver training; access financial and governmental services; enhance medical services; provide agricultural extension services; and serves as business incubators. Community Empowerment Centers will give rural communities access to the 21st Century and make it attractive and financially feasible for youth and men to remain in their communities.
This week our mission is to meet with prospective partners and governmental ministries to take the program national.
I adore this story of the creative process/presencing from a blog of the the NY Times :
April 29, 2008, 7:02 pm
Don’t Fact-Check the Soul
By ROSANNE CASH
Apart from “which comes first, the music or the lyrics,” the question I am most often asked (mostly by music journalists) is whether it isn’t “hard” to “reveal so much” of myself through my lyrics.
This question annoys me to no end. I always sputter that the songs aren’t a diary, a blog or a therapy session. I’ve never had a fact-checker come in to go over my lyrics. I haven’t worked through all my childhood issues and achieved enlightenment through songwriting. I can write whatever I want, and I’m the only one who knows what is indeed fact (or at least my version of fact…you see the problem?) and what is poetic license.
Conversely, where am I supposed to get inspiration, if not from my own life? Television? (Yes, I can have it both ways: “Consistency is the last resort of the unimaginative.” — Oscar Wilde).
I used to teach a summer songwriting workshop, and sometimes I would suggest a change of a line or phrase in a song a fledgling writer brought to class and the writer would say, “But it didn’t happen that way.” I would remind him or her that these were songs, not news reports, and if they were bound to just the facts, they should consider science rather than art. (I said this in a very nice way, of course. Songwriters are notoriously insecure. The palpable fear that always hung in the workshop classroom like a toxic mist made me want to take several showers a day and seriously consider changing professions. I’m speaking of my own fear, of course.)
Having said all this about poetic license and the difference between truth and facts, I cannot deny that my life is entirely contained in my songs, even the songs I wrote in another character (“Last Stop Before Home,” “The Good Intent,” “Second to No One”), or wrote to try (unsuccessfully) to get Vince Gill to record and turn into a big hit (“Closer Than I Appear”) so I could pay my taxes and my American Express bill. [Audio clip above.]
Sometimes songs are postcards from the future. Often I have found that a song reveals something subtle but important about my own life that I was only vaguely aware of while writing, but that became clear as time went on. I wrote “Black Cadillac” six weeks before a rash of deaths began in my family. The day I finished writing it, I played the completed song to myself, as a kind of last run-through to check for rhyme scheme errors and syllable scanning, and a tidal wave of anxiety started rising in my gut. I knew I had given myself a message.
I don’t consider these postcard songs prescient as much as just coming from a source of creativity outside linear time. (I am certainly not the first to notice this phenomenon in creative work. Thornton Wilder, for one, wrote, “It is only in appearance that time is a river. It is rather a vast landscape and it is the eye of the beholder that moves.”)
But with or without prescience, considering only the hard-earned craftsmanship of songwriting, as I get older I have found the quality of my attention to be more important, and more rewarding, than the initial inspiration. I’ve found that the melody is already inherent in the language, and if I pay close enough attention to the roundness of the vowels and the cadence of the words, I can tease the melody out of the words it is already woven into. I have found that continual referral back to the original “feeling tone” of the inspiration, the constant re-touching of that hum and cry, more important than the fireworks of its origin. I have learned to be steady in my course of love, or fear, or loneliness, rather than impulsive in its wasting, either lyrically or emotionally.
This maturation in songwriting has proven surprisingly satisfying. Twenty-five years ago, I would have said that the bursts of inspiration, and the transcendent quality that came with them, were an emotionally superior experience, preferable to the watchmaker concentration required for the detail work of refining, editing and polishing. But the reverse is proving to be true. Like everything else, given enough time and the long perspective, the opposite of those things that we think define us slowly becomes equally valid, and sometimes more potent.
And speaking of Truth, and its relative experience, those niggling questions about the specifics of writing — the order of creation, the source of inspiration, the parsing of individual truth and the wrestling of facts and the divergence of the two, are better left alone and in the realm of mystery, where all creative work forms. I am of the same mind about these things as Martha Graham, who told a young dancer who asked if she should be a dancer, “If you have to ask, the answer is no.” Perversely, if you have to ask which came first, the lyrics or the music, the answer is… No. Or Yes. Depending on your maturity and how slow the opposites are to reveal themselves.
Back to “So It Goes,” the raison d’etre for this blog: Joe Henry came to New York, and quickly arranged for us to meet at a studio in the East Village in the two hours he had free before beginning a new project with Allen Toussaint. He wanted me to sing the lead on the song, but after tinkering with different keys and trying to fit my voice around the unusual (for me) cadences of his melody and syllabic structure, I talked him into letting me record a duet vocal, part harmony and part lead. [Audio clip above.]
The demo we did together retained the simplicity of his original version, and I think it’s a great second step toward a full-fledged recording. I don’t know where the song will exist, on whose record, in what form, but I feel proud of this long-delayed experiment with Joe, and look at it as a great beginning. A little mystery becomes tangible, the friends I lost are respectfully acknowledged, and Joe and I, after a combined half-century of songwriting between us, become beginners again. And so it goes.
Mon, 25 Feb 2008 16:05:20 +0300
From: “aristarchus munish”
To: nirvana@yes-us.net
Subject: Hallo
Hallo Nirvana,
I’m humbled to get this opportunity to know how you are faring. Hope all is well with you, your family, Sussie, Peggy and the rest. Back here I’m well.
You might have wondered why I’m not been communicating. I’m almost in a similar situation! Since the death of Hon. Mugabe Were, I have been in a moment of “darkness”. I simply couldn’t understand what was going on. I couldn’t put words together. I new I had a lot to share but I couldn’t have them flow as I normally do. I felt blank.
Even now, I’m not so sure I’ll be able to communicate.
Perhaps it may help to start by sharing one of my experiences lately. On 29th January I was called to give a talk on “the role of youth in peace building.” Young people had been invited from almost all the slum areas in Nairobi. The theme was: Be heard, be seen. As people gave their analysis of the situation and how felt about it, I was so moved and felt I had nothing to offer. Then after sometime I remembered one of your most powerful statements in your coaching; the degree of breakdowns is equal to the degree of breakthroughs. This has been like a memory verse to me. As I silently repeated these words, I felt new strength start engulfing me and I stood to share with them. I started by reapiting these words loudly to them and told them to close their eyes for a minute as they contemplated on these words. As they opened their eyes, I could see different faces from the ones I had watched as they shared their experiences. In tat mood, I gave them a scenario of Rwanda and told them to make an assumption that Rwanda was their father and Kenya was us (the youth). Since most of them are versant with what went on in Rwanda, they didn’t want a situation like that repeated wherever they were. I told them that as we were brought up by our parents there are some things that we wished to have but didn’t get. Our parents could not provide all we needed. And just like Rwanda, we need to learn from their mistakes and make a better future for our children. I told them engaging in violence is like repeating what our parents did (in this case like Rwanda).
At this point, they were in deeper meditations. Slowly, one by one they started asking questions. One asked “Munish, how can we forgive those who have destroyed all our property, who will compensate us?” I did not have an answer other than read to them part of an email a friend of mine sent me. It read “God made us in such a manner that when others are down, we are standing; when they stand, we standout; when they standout, we out stand; when they try to out stand, we be the standards they will use.” They all laughed and shook their heads. I added: don’t worry what others are doing, do worry whether you are doing anything to help (from the Leadership and self deception book).
Then the most crucial moment came - getting a way forward. I remembered the landmark forum lessons and what you took us through at Methodist in May last year - standing in front of a video camera and committing ourselves to the actions we would take after the workshop. I told them if they meant committing themselves to making a difference, then they should not leave the room without writing down or sharing with us what they would do after the session. Some felt bitterness in their hearts and to them I told them to write forgiveness letters to those they felt they had a grudge with. This really surprised them. For follow up, they suggested we have another meeting on the 16th February, which took place and attracted the Kenya Times media people. In this meeting, youth read out the letters they had written and it was so emotional as they made it real that they were committed to forgiving. They also invited us to the community level where they said such talks will really help in the healing and reconciliation. On the list is Dandora and Mathare.
Thank you so much for the books and the lessons.
Love,
Munish.
What in the world is happening to me?
Who knew that checking a silly box on a 3″x 5″ enrollment card could cause such upheaval?…
During a four-hour presentation on the cause of world hunger, I committed to change the global mindset that allows hunger to persist. I realized that changing the mindset that allows hunger would also change the mindset that allows poverty, war, dis-ease, and all the other things humanity complains about.
I was 27 and needed something to sink my teeth into… Since that October 1977 event, consciousness has had space to work through me. I have become God’s pencil.