ETHICS

The sky was cool, crisp and blue today, similar to my tile floor, which bit my feet this morning. The first tastes of fall made me find my slippers quicker than usual. This strikingly blue hue was the perfect opportunity to test my students who have been learning about air pressure. “High or low?” I prompted. A universal “high” resounded and my little heart soared along with the invisible air pressure. Baby steps and small successes have been nudging me along recently.
I have been teaching my second year Agro-ecology students about the ethics of Permaculture this week. A rather splendid Aussie chap by the name of Bill Mollison coined this term in the mid 1970’s. If you’re unfamiliar with his work, he’s brilliant as well as a hoot to read. Regardless, shamelessly summarized Permaculture’s ethics go something like this: Care of the Earth, Care of the People, Sharing our Resources (some may say “Reinvesting Surplus”) and Promoting Life (aka Biodiversity). These rather broad and inspirational ethics accompany a system of farming that realizes the need to work with nature rather than against it. Design is everything. This brings me to the financial situation of our school. It is tight and student and staff fuses are short. I am constantly encouraged (neigh, demanded) to bring capital into the school. As I was teaching these simple beautiful ethics that resound with innovation, dirty hands and warm hearts I realized the irony of my situation. Capital and sharing resources freely to promote other healthy individuals seem like a sharp contrast. In a valley of maize and sorghum monocrops I am floundering to bring scientific concepts and humanitarian principles to a school starved for funds. This is not a cry for finance, but perhaps a request for solidarity. As you move into spring and we move into fall, plant something, watch it grow, and share it with those around you. Promote life, not capital, this is what I wish development would’ve done in the first place.

NORMA RUBY RUBKE

Technically I don’t think medical professionals know how much patients hear when they’re unresponsive. I think that she heard everything. My kindred adventurous spirit and teacher of fierce independence, I think she waited for me. I got to say goodbye to my fearless Grandmother just over a week ago. I regaled her white head with my newest tales from Africa, she would’ve smiled if she’d had the strength. My stories were always funny to her, so they were much more fun to tell. She had a deep chuckle that always made me want to have a story to tell.
A few years ago when I returned from my first adventure abroad a bond was formed between us. Grandma had endless questions about Samoan culture, the diet of such an archipelago, the effects of poverty on an island nation, and countless more poignant inquiries. She pulled information out of me that I did not know I’d gleaned. She helped me to process experiences. She kindled an international spark which matured into my current Lesotho flame.
She lived through the Depression and War times; her understanding of hard times enabled her to have a unique understanding of the developing countries I’ve worked in. Her generosity abounded (and I know it wasn’t just a function of Grandmotherness) she helped to put me through Grad school and sent hilarious notes every month that I read aloud to my roommates. She was gracious beyond belief and never said an ill word of anyone. I am overwhelmed at the loss, but know that now she can adventure closer than ever with me.
Today I will make the Hurculean journey home and I know that she’ll make the journey with me. I am looking forward to having my traveling buddy closer than ever.