3.27.2007
3.14.2007
I heart Carolyn Tanner Irish
Our family has a Christmas tradition of visiting "other" churches on Christmas Eve to observe their traditions and worship styles. It has been a very enriching experience over the years, and quite eye-opening when I was a young Mormon girl being taught that my church was the only true church.
I am not religious anymore, but the tradition still stands. This past Christmas, I wanted to be sure and visit a church that leaned more toward acceptance, inclusion, and even blessing of gays and lesbians. I attend the Unitarian Church occasionally during the year, and they certainly are inclusive, but sometimes I truly crave the words and hymns of the devout: the people who are not afraid to say Jesus in their hymns. So we (myself, my Father, and my youngest sister) went to the Episcopal Church this year. It was quite beautiful: the hymns were fast-paced and exhilirating (not like the slow LDS hymns of my youth). The sermon, given by the Right Reverend Carolyn Tanner Irish, was thoughtful, inspiring, and uplifting.
But I am still not religious. This weekend, I visited my sister in San Diego. She has labeled herself agnostic for several years now. I didn't know how to feel about this, because I don't know how I feel myself. But this weekend she told me that she believes there must be a God, though not the God of our youth or the one we were told to believe in. There are too many things in her life, she says, that are good and happen for no other reason. I was glad to hear it: of anyone I know, she is the one that most needs a center to ground all her amazing energy and drive.
But what of me and my center? I have been watching the laboring of the Episcopal Church in regard to Gays and Lesbians, hoping that I might find a place where I can go to investigate my Christianity while being fully accepted and loved for who I am. I was disappointed with the national church's leaning away from full inclusion of GLBT people.
But Rev. Irish has been a bastian of tolerance in a state where little is to be found. She and other open-minded supporters have proved to be little islands to which my sanity can cling when I think I have chosen to live in a state where who I am is not only not okay, but downright wrong. It is especially relieving to see this fair-mindedness after the dark days of the Utah Legislature.
Thank you, Reverend....and God Bless You.
I am not religious anymore, but the tradition still stands. This past Christmas, I wanted to be sure and visit a church that leaned more toward acceptance, inclusion, and even blessing of gays and lesbians. I attend the Unitarian Church occasionally during the year, and they certainly are inclusive, but sometimes I truly crave the words and hymns of the devout: the people who are not afraid to say Jesus in their hymns. So we (myself, my Father, and my youngest sister) went to the Episcopal Church this year. It was quite beautiful: the hymns were fast-paced and exhilirating (not like the slow LDS hymns of my youth). The sermon, given by the Right Reverend Carolyn Tanner Irish, was thoughtful, inspiring, and uplifting.
But I am still not religious. This weekend, I visited my sister in San Diego. She has labeled herself agnostic for several years now. I didn't know how to feel about this, because I don't know how I feel myself. But this weekend she told me that she believes there must be a God, though not the God of our youth or the one we were told to believe in. There are too many things in her life, she says, that are good and happen for no other reason. I was glad to hear it: of anyone I know, she is the one that most needs a center to ground all her amazing energy and drive.
But what of me and my center? I have been watching the laboring of the Episcopal Church in regard to Gays and Lesbians, hoping that I might find a place where I can go to investigate my Christianity while being fully accepted and loved for who I am. I was disappointed with the national church's leaning away from full inclusion of GLBT people.
But Rev. Irish has been a bastian of tolerance in a state where little is to be found. She and other open-minded supporters have proved to be little islands to which my sanity can cling when I think I have chosen to live in a state where who I am is not only not okay, but downright wrong. It is especially relieving to see this fair-mindedness after the dark days of the Utah Legislature.
Thank you, Reverend....and God Bless You.
3.03.2007
Being Green in the West
There is a house on 1300 East in Salt Lake City that has a powerful draw for me. It has large expanses of green lawn, both in front and stretching back behind it to what looks like beautiful green gardens and shrubbery. It feels like home, even as I drive by and catch just a tiny glimpse of it.
But as an environmentalist in the West, being drawn to that beautiful green place, even coveting it for my own, is truly a dichotomy. After all, as Patty Limerick said at this week’s Stegner Symposium, the environmental movement in the west should not so much be called green, as brown.
There are many colors that make up the palette of Mother Nature in the West. Green has a minor role, and is usually quite pale and pastel. Much more prominent are tones of red, gold, brown, gray, and blue. The colors of the spectacular vistas of the west have little room for green.
Water is such an intrinsic part of who we are, and perhaps we must surround ourselves with its byproducts, namely lush green lawns and bushes, and even water features such as ponds and fountains, so that we can feel secure in an otherwise hostile and waterless environment.
We evolved in the lush green jungles of the world, thrived and grew as a civilization in the green expanses of Africa, Europe, and Asia. We staked our places on the banks of lakes, rivers and oceans and the lush green countrysides bountifully watered by the skies. Only much more recently have we begun to find our places in the desert, where storms are sporadic, brief, and powerful, and evaporation extreme.
It would seem that living in such a hostile environment would breed an appreciation for water…even a religious fervor for it. But somehow, we in the west have managed to ignore the precarious nature of what little water we have.
With so many environmental issues pressing on our minds, it is hard to prioritize where our focus should lie. But if I learned anything at the Stegner Symposium these past few days, it is that every issue in the West, and indeed worldwide, that we can imagine either affects or is affected by water. Climate change will affect water. Power production is affected by water. What we do each day in our showers and with our lawns affects our neighbors both upstream and down. It is not an issue that can easily be overlooked…indeed, it is a life and death issue in the arid West.
I was also privileged to hear a speech from Pat Mulroy, the controversial head of the Southern Nevada Water Authority, which has proposed various water projects and has many people up in arms around the west. The conservation methods that have been undertaken both in Las Vegas and other major cities in the West, such as Phoenix, are inspiring. But it is not enough for just a few cities, or even just for the major urban centers, to conserve water. It is essential that all people in the west rid their minds of the idea that water is abundant and theirs for the taking, and begin conserving everywhere from the banks of the Colorado to the edges of the Great Basin, to the small towns of backcountry Wyoming. We must take a larger view of the water supply in the west, no matter where we live or how many people surround us.
We must change our hearts and minds when it comes to green. In a land of so many colors, we must let go of our ancestral affinity to the color that is most harmful in the West. We must embrace brown, gold, gray, red, orange, and blue.
We must change the message of environmentalism in the West. Through our water conservation actions, through the rethinking of water systems in the west, through innovative ideas and approaches to water use and conservation, we must fight together for the browning of the west, and the embracing of a new life in the desert.
But as an environmentalist in the West, being drawn to that beautiful green place, even coveting it for my own, is truly a dichotomy. After all, as Patty Limerick said at this week’s Stegner Symposium, the environmental movement in the west should not so much be called green, as brown.
There are many colors that make up the palette of Mother Nature in the West. Green has a minor role, and is usually quite pale and pastel. Much more prominent are tones of red, gold, brown, gray, and blue. The colors of the spectacular vistas of the west have little room for green.
Water is such an intrinsic part of who we are, and perhaps we must surround ourselves with its byproducts, namely lush green lawns and bushes, and even water features such as ponds and fountains, so that we can feel secure in an otherwise hostile and waterless environment.
We evolved in the lush green jungles of the world, thrived and grew as a civilization in the green expanses of Africa, Europe, and Asia. We staked our places on the banks of lakes, rivers and oceans and the lush green countrysides bountifully watered by the skies. Only much more recently have we begun to find our places in the desert, where storms are sporadic, brief, and powerful, and evaporation extreme.
It would seem that living in such a hostile environment would breed an appreciation for water…even a religious fervor for it. But somehow, we in the west have managed to ignore the precarious nature of what little water we have.
With so many environmental issues pressing on our minds, it is hard to prioritize where our focus should lie. But if I learned anything at the Stegner Symposium these past few days, it is that every issue in the West, and indeed worldwide, that we can imagine either affects or is affected by water. Climate change will affect water. Power production is affected by water. What we do each day in our showers and with our lawns affects our neighbors both upstream and down. It is not an issue that can easily be overlooked…indeed, it is a life and death issue in the arid West.
I was also privileged to hear a speech from Pat Mulroy, the controversial head of the Southern Nevada Water Authority, which has proposed various water projects and has many people up in arms around the west. The conservation methods that have been undertaken both in Las Vegas and other major cities in the West, such as Phoenix, are inspiring. But it is not enough for just a few cities, or even just for the major urban centers, to conserve water. It is essential that all people in the west rid their minds of the idea that water is abundant and theirs for the taking, and begin conserving everywhere from the banks of the Colorado to the edges of the Great Basin, to the small towns of backcountry Wyoming. We must take a larger view of the water supply in the west, no matter where we live or how many people surround us.
We must change our hearts and minds when it comes to green. In a land of so many colors, we must let go of our ancestral affinity to the color that is most harmful in the West. We must embrace brown, gold, gray, red, orange, and blue.
We must change the message of environmentalism in the West. Through our water conservation actions, through the rethinking of water systems in the west, through innovative ideas and approaches to water use and conservation, we must fight together for the browning of the west, and the embracing of a new life in the desert.
There is a house on 1300 East in Salt Lake City that has a powerful draw for me. It has large expanses of green lawn, both in front and stretching back behind it to what looks like beautiful green gardens and shrubbery. It feels like home, even as I drive by and catch just a tiny glimpse of it.
But as an environmentalist in the West, being drawn to that beautiful green place, even coveting it for my own, is truly a dichotomy. After all, as Patty Limerick said at this week’s Stegner Symposium, the environmental movement in the west should not so much be called green, as brown.
There are many colors that make up the palette of Mother Nature in the West. Green has a minor role, and is usually quite pale and pastel. Much more prominent are tones of red, gold, brown, gray, and blue. The colors of the spectacular vistas of the west have little room for green.
Water is such an intrinsic part of who we are, and perhaps we must surround ourselves with its byproducts, namely lush green lawns and bushes, and even water features such as ponds and fountains, so that we can feel secure in an otherwise hostile and waterless environment.
We evolved in the lush green jungles of the world, thrived and grew as a civilization in the green expanses of Africa, Europe, and Asia. We staked our places on the banks of lakes, rivers and oceans and the lush green countrysides bountifully watered by the skies. Only much more recently have we begun to find our places in the desert, where storms are sporadic, brief, and powerful, and evaporation extreme.
It would seem that living in such a hostile environment would breed an appreciation for water…even a religious fervor for it. But somehow, we in the west have managed to ignore the precarious nature of what little water we have.
With so many environmental issues pressing on our minds, it is hard to prioritize where our focus should lie. But if I learned anything at the Stegner Symposium these past few days, it is that every issue in the West, and indeed worldwide, that we can imagine either affects or is affected by water. Climate change will affect water. Power production is affected by water. What we do each day in our showers and with our lawns affects our neighbors both upstream and down. It is not an issue that can easily be overlooked…indeed, it is a life and death issue in the arid West.
I was also privileged to hear a speech from Pat Mulroy, the controversial head of the Southern Nevada Water Authority, which has proposed various water projects and has many people up in arms around the west. The conservation methods that have been undertaken both in Las Vegas and other major cities in the West, such as Phoenix, are inspiring. But it is not enough for just a few cities, or even just for the major urban centers, to conserve water. It is essential that all people in the west rid their minds of the idea that water is abundant and theirs for the taking, and begin conserving everywhere from the banks of the Colorado to the edges of the Great Basin, to the small towns of backcountry Wyoming. We must take a larger view of the water supply in the west, no matter where we live or how many people surround us.
We must change our hearts and minds when it comes to green. In a land of so many colors, we must let go of our ancestral affinity to the color that is most harmful in the West. We must embrace brown, gold, gray, red, orange, and blue.
We must change the message of environmentalism in the West. Through our water conservation actions, through the rethinking of water systems in the west, through innovative ideas and approaches to water use and conservation, we must fight together for the browning of the west, and the embracing of a new life in the desert.
But as an environmentalist in the West, being drawn to that beautiful green place, even coveting it for my own, is truly a dichotomy. After all, as Patty Limerick said at this week’s Stegner Symposium, the environmental movement in the west should not so much be called green, as brown.
There are many colors that make up the palette of Mother Nature in the West. Green has a minor role, and is usually quite pale and pastel. Much more prominent are tones of red, gold, brown, gray, and blue. The colors of the spectacular vistas of the west have little room for green.
Water is such an intrinsic part of who we are, and perhaps we must surround ourselves with its byproducts, namely lush green lawns and bushes, and even water features such as ponds and fountains, so that we can feel secure in an otherwise hostile and waterless environment.
We evolved in the lush green jungles of the world, thrived and grew as a civilization in the green expanses of Africa, Europe, and Asia. We staked our places on the banks of lakes, rivers and oceans and the lush green countrysides bountifully watered by the skies. Only much more recently have we begun to find our places in the desert, where storms are sporadic, brief, and powerful, and evaporation extreme.
It would seem that living in such a hostile environment would breed an appreciation for water…even a religious fervor for it. But somehow, we in the west have managed to ignore the precarious nature of what little water we have.
With so many environmental issues pressing on our minds, it is hard to prioritize where our focus should lie. But if I learned anything at the Stegner Symposium these past few days, it is that every issue in the West, and indeed worldwide, that we can imagine either affects or is affected by water. Climate change will affect water. Power production is affected by water. What we do each day in our showers and with our lawns affects our neighbors both upstream and down. It is not an issue that can easily be overlooked…indeed, it is a life and death issue in the arid West.
I was also privileged to hear a speech from Pat Mulroy, the controversial head of the Southern Nevada Water Authority, which has proposed various water projects and has many people up in arms around the west. The conservation methods that have been undertaken both in Las Vegas and other major cities in the West, such as Phoenix, are inspiring. But it is not enough for just a few cities, or even just for the major urban centers, to conserve water. It is essential that all people in the west rid their minds of the idea that water is abundant and theirs for the taking, and begin conserving everywhere from the banks of the Colorado to the edges of the Great Basin, to the small towns of backcountry Wyoming. We must take a larger view of the water supply in the west, no matter where we live or how many people surround us.
We must change our hearts and minds when it comes to green. In a land of so many colors, we must let go of our ancestral affinity to the color that is most harmful in the West. We must embrace brown, gold, gray, red, orange, and blue.
We must change the message of environmentalism in the West. Through our water conservation actions, through the rethinking of water systems in the west, through innovative ideas and approaches to water use and conservation, we must fight together for the browning of the west, and the embracing of a new life in the desert.
3.02.2007
Taking Action for Education
As I posted during the legislative session, there are more than a few reasons that vouchers are not the answer to helping the public education system help our schools. Although some dirty back room deals got the vouchers bill passed in the Utah Legislature by one vote, and various conservative groups across the nation are hailing it as a landmark, the idea is fundamentally flawed, and the politics behind it are untrue to the people of this state, a majority of whom do not support it in polls.
I have just returned from a UEA function I attended with my father. It is inspiring that despite huge odds, the people who know and love education are not willing to give up in the face of the adversity that is Utah. In fact, they have started a petition to gather at least 92,000 signatures from across the state, that would put this issue to Utah voters. It may be a close call...but every fight worth fighting usually is. Read about it in both the Deseret News and the Salt Lake Tribune.
The group that is running this petition drive, called Utahn's for Public Schools, also has a website that will be up at www.utahnsforpublicschools.org.
This is democracy at its best. When the legislature does not represent the majority of the people, but blindly ignores their opinions and even votes (Curtis is a fantastic example...after nearly losing his last election he not only ignored what the people were trying to tell him but turned around to slap them in the face on voucher legislation), the only choice is for a groundswell of people to take it back to them and make them hear what the people have to say.
They may not have the dollars of Parents for Choice, but they do have the passion and the people, and a firm belief that public education is the greatest achievement and strongest foundation of a representative democracy.
I have just returned from a UEA function I attended with my father. It is inspiring that despite huge odds, the people who know and love education are not willing to give up in the face of the adversity that is Utah. In fact, they have started a petition to gather at least 92,000 signatures from across the state, that would put this issue to Utah voters. It may be a close call...but every fight worth fighting usually is. Read about it in both the Deseret News and the Salt Lake Tribune.
The group that is running this petition drive, called Utahn's for Public Schools, also has a website that will be up at www.utahnsforpublicschools.org.
This is democracy at its best. When the legislature does not represent the majority of the people, but blindly ignores their opinions and even votes (Curtis is a fantastic example...after nearly losing his last election he not only ignored what the people were trying to tell him but turned around to slap them in the face on voucher legislation), the only choice is for a groundswell of people to take it back to them and make them hear what the people have to say.
They may not have the dollars of Parents for Choice, but they do have the passion and the people, and a firm belief that public education is the greatest achievement and strongest foundation of a representative democracy.
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