Compost and Power

<p dir="ltr"><strong>original article: </strong><a href="https://mkgandhiinstitute.wordpress.com/2013/06/04/compost-and-power/">https://mkgandhiinstitute.wordpress.com/2013/06/04/compost-and-power/</a></p><p dir="ltr">Late last summer, I had a wonderful conversation with a friend of mine visiting from Oakland, CA. He, like myself, is deeply committed to food justice/food sovereignty movement building, connecting the dots between food justice and human justice. While out bike riding, he explained a concept he and his organization had been defining: compost the empire. Quite simply, it refers to the unnatural concept of “waste,” that in so-called “developed,” especially Westernized places, the practice of discarding what is no longer useful has become a way of life. In fact, on this Mother Earth, “waste” does not exist. Everything that in the ecological system is used, recycled, and used again. It is a process of mutual support, where everything has its needs met, no more and no less. It is not greedy, it is not corrupt, it is not expendable. It is valued as a sacred part of natural cycle. The term compost the empire refers to the return of what has been discarded to the natural process of environmental cycle. This can refer to the actual process of turning organic material back into soil, but it can also refer to lovingly embracing ex-offenders who have been treated as social waste. It can refer to the reclaiming of land that was stolen to be turned into profit. It can refer to the healing process of traumas that have been dismissed as unnecessary surplus.</p><p dir="ltr"><!--break--></p><p dir="ltr">During this same bike ride, we were approached by a wonderful man, L, while waiting at a red light on the corner of Vernor and Mt. Elliott. L was very tall, largely built, and perhaps in his 50s. He might’ve&nbsp;been treated as unnecessary surplus anywhere else or by anyone else. Instead, he opened up his conversation about our bikes. He explained that he was too heavy to ride bikes, but when he sees “skinny people” out riding, he always pinches the tires to check the air pressure. While he was poking fun at himself, he also admitted a jealousy that he was unable to ride a bike, and instead had to navigate a horrible, deflated bus system that in no way met his needs. He spoke to the root of self-defeat, all the while expressing physical affection, sharing hugs as well as bumping our fists, all of us sharing support with one another.</p><p dir="ltr">L further acknowledged that he used to weigh 380 pounds, now weighing substantially less at 330. Attempting to congratulate his effort, he explained that his weight loss was a result of loss of appetite after his wife of 34 years passed away. From what he expressed, they shared a deep emotional bond, not to mention two children. He then shared that he had had very little time to grieve. His community, he said, did not recognize his need to mourn. Instead, he felt the need to mask his grief, his deepest pain from losing a life-long partner, a deep love that will unlikely be replaceable. Despite feeling trapped in his emotions due to the pressure to make them invisible, for whatever reason L took a risk to share his inner-most vulnerabilities with me and my friend, two men who very well might have returned his admission with apathy rather than compassion.</p><div>It was an amazing and gratifying experience, being able to share composting the empire with L. While this may seem like an insignificant act, in reality, it is an act of defiance. In a time where we are defined by someone else’s value/s, where we must hide our deepest emotions and vulnerabilities, where we must constantly guard ourselves against our neighbors’ apathy, where being honest means taking a risk, everything L expressed was a revolutionary act: it was an act of courage and risk, of love, of reaching out for support, of emotional honesty. He took what has been defined as waste, and returned it to the natural cycle so that it could be reborn into life.</div><div>&nbsp;</div><div><em>Andrew is a community organizer from Detroit who recently moved to Rochester.&nbsp;When he is not working full time at&nbsp;Hillside Children Center, he assists us with our community garden and prisoner outreach work at Attica Correctional Facility.</em></div>

<p dir="ltr"><strong>original article: </strong><a href="https://mkgandhiinstitute.wordpress.com/2013/06/04/compost-and-power/">https://mkgandhiinstitute.wordpress.com/2013/06/04/compost-and-power/</a></p> <p dir="ltr">Late last summer, I had a wonderful conversation with a friend of mine visiting from Oakland, CA. He, like myself, is deeply committed to food justice/food sovereignty movement building, connecting the dots between food justice and human justice. While out bike riding, he explained a concept he and his organization had been defining: compost the empire. Quite simply, it refers to the unnatural concept of “waste,” that in so-called “developed,” especially Westernized places, the practice of discarding what is no longer useful has become a way of life. In fact, on this Mother Earth, “waste” does not exist. Everything that in the ecological system is used, recycled, and used again. It is a process of mutual support, where everything has its needs met, no more and no less. It is not greedy, it is not corrupt, it is not expendable. It is valued as a sacred part of natural cycle. The term compost the empire refers to the return of what has been discarded to the natural process of environmental cycle. This can refer to the actual process of turning organic material back into soil, but it can also refer to lovingly embracing ex-offenders who have been treated as social waste. It can refer to the reclaiming of land that was stolen to be turned into profit. It can refer to the healing process of traumas that have been dismissed as unnecessary surplus.</p> <p dir="ltr"></p> <p dir="ltr">During this same bike ride, we were approached by a wonderful man, L, while waiting at a red light on the corner of Vernor and Mt. Elliott. L was very tall, largely built, and perhaps in his 50s. He might’ve been treated as unnecessary surplus anywhere else or by anyone else. Instead, he opened up his conversation about our bikes. He explained that he was too heavy to ride bikes, but when he sees “skinny people” out riding, he always pinches the tires to check the air pressure. While he was poking fun at himself, he also admitted a jealousy that he was unable to ride a bike, and instead had to navigate a horrible, deflated bus system that in no way met his needs. He spoke to the root of self-defeat, all the while expressing physical affection, sharing hugs as well as bumping our fists, all of us sharing support with one another.</p> <p dir="ltr">L further acknowledged that he used to weigh 380 pounds, now weighing substantially less at 330. Attempting to congratulate his effort, he explained that his weight loss was a result of loss of appetite after his wife of 34 years passed away. From what he expressed, they shared a deep emotional bond, not to mention two children. He then shared that he had had very little time to grieve. His community, he said, did not recognize his need to mourn. Instead, he felt the need to mask his grief, his deepest pain from losing a life-long partner, a deep love that will unlikely be replaceable. Despite feeling trapped in his emotions due to the pressure to make them invisible, for whatever reason L took a risk to share his inner-most vulnerabilities with me and my friend, two men who very well might have returned his admission with apathy rather than compassion.</p> <div>It was an amazing and gratifying experience, being able to share composting the empire with L. While this may seem like an insignificant act, in reality, it is an act of defiance. In a time where we are defined by someone else’s value/s, where we must hide our deepest emotions and vulnerabilities, where we must constantly guard ourselves against our neighbors’ apathy, where being honest means taking a risk, everything L expressed was a revolutionary act: it was an act of courage and risk, of love, of reaching out for support, of emotional honesty. He took what has been defined as waste, and returned it to the natural cycle so that it could be reborn into life.</div> <div> </div> <div><em>Andrew is a community organizer from Detroit who recently moved to Rochester. When he is not working full time at Hillside Children Center, he assists us with our community garden and prisoner outreach work at Attica Correctional Facility.</em></div>

Andrew Plisner / M.K Gandhi Institute for Nonviolence

Andrew Plisner / M.K Gandhi Institute for Nonviolence