Graffiti of the Dead

I had a very interesting night. Joining my roommate and some of his friends, I traveled to the Turner Grange. There we participated in a community dinner followed by entertainment. Going into this I wasn’t even really sure what a grange was, but thanks to this event I found out that a grange was (and to some extent still is) a sort of society for farmers. Thanks to Wikipedia, I can further tell you that the Grange (or the National Grange of the Order of Patrons of Husbandry,) was meant to encourage interaction for farmers’ cultural and political good. In this regard alone, the idea is fascinating. Much like the old fraternal orders of yore, these organizations served as the cement for communal action.

Tonight’s event was sponsored by a collective – basically a group of people around my age who share a farm – what one might call a commune. For a donation we were able to feast on locally prepared meals, ranging from pumpkin soup to lentils and beans. Following the meal we all had access to the desert table which was piled high with scones, pies and cakes.

After having eaten our fill we all made our way upstairs to the hall, the true showcase of the building. Far from grand but not modest, the room was flanked by large windows and contained a stage up front. The first performer of the night was a storyteller/mime, and although mime experiences have historically been far from positive, this guy was very funny. Following that there was an auction for local items such as pottery, cakes and crafts. Instead of a regular auction, though, each person would bid a dollar, thus increasing the “worth” of the goods being auctioned. The auctioneer always got a laugh from the crowd when he said “going twice,” only to see a bunch of hands shoot up at once – it was a very clever twist that allowed everyone to participate.

After the auction a local folk group took the stage and sung some truly powerful songs. One was about the cocaine trade, the other was about corporate executives, and others were more mellow odes to the earth and family. It was a moving experience. I had a conversation with one of the women who is kinda part of the collective and we ruminated on how the pursuit of the material seems to have reached its zenith in American culture and that the revival of community is perhaps the only way to save our endangered social institutions.

Tonight’s event was a fitting follow-up to the speaker we had at Friday’s VISTA meeting. After seeing Anouar Majid, a scholar and professor of English at the University of New England, on Bill Moyers Journal, I gave him a call and asked him to speak at our meeting. Luckily he agreed and on Friday, in Bowdoin’s stately Moultin Union, he spoke passionately to us about the need for dissent in both American and Islamic culture. Majid’s latest book, A Call for Heresy, outlines his beliefs. But in person he was even better, drawing in the whole audience. For me it was a great victory to bring him to address not just the VISTAs but also my organization’s steering committee – all too often their meetings are less than animated, so I thought it was crucial for us all to get a shot in the arm to re-focus and inspire. It was also wonderful to see everyone and take time to share about our individual successes and hardships. I’m proud of my team.

Below are some pictures from recent things I’ve been up to, including my recent trip to Chicago where I attended a national conference for VISTA Leaders. I’ll have more about that, perhaps, but for now, enjoy:

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