Something about economics (revised)

So, for those of you whom I've met recently, or for those of you who just might have missed something over a number of years together, I'm not necessarily a person of strong tact. The tact I do have is not only weak, but also in short supply. I've been advised that my last blog post, while impassioned, could also be perceived as judgmental, condescending, and the like. I want to preface this revised by post stating that my intention is to only to share my own questions, concerns and struggles with the issues I am wrapped up in and seek advice, response, and critique. In that light, I encourage you to read this revision and note that the original post is still intact and dated June 29, 2009.

Something about economics (revised 7/1/2009)

Recently, I was hired as a part-time Sales Associate at Ten Thousand Villages, in Brookline, MA. The store is located about 5 miles from home, although the bus commute can take about 25 minutes on a good day and closer to an hour or more on other days.

Before I moved to Boston, a wise professor and friend encouraged me to do two things once I moved into Dorchester: get a job within walking distance of home and spend almost all of my money in my immediate neighborhood, a place that would clearly benefit from some financial investment -- and where my money would have an immediate impact on the well-being of my neighbors, who own, operate, work at, or shop at the surrounding businesses.

Now, I find myself waking up around 7:30 AM most days and donning clothes I would prefer not to be caught dead in: khakis and polos from Boomerang Thrift in Jamaica Plain or gifts from Mom that she found on the sales rack at Kohl's. By 8:30 or shortly thereafter I am on the 15 or 41 Bus and driving down the thriving main drag through the hood, Dudley Street, until I get to the station and switch to the 66 Bus. The 66 is my ticket to Oz, where I am daily reminded that we are definitely not in Kansas anymore - rather, we have crossed Roxbury, drifted through Mission Hill with the blink of an eye, and find ourselves in Brookline: the home of clean streets, parking meters, nice restaurants, a Stop and Shop and Trader Joe's within a mile of each other, and all of the comforts of a cozy downtown. Most of the people are vaguely aware that there is a land on other side of that gray area we call Mission Hill, but few mention it. Conversations about my neighborhood make it sound as though its as far removed from Brookline as my neighborhood in New Hampshire is.

But, my trip to Brookline is redeemed by the 4-6 hours I spent advancing the cause of Fair Trade by working for 10,000 Villages, right? Working here, while living in Dorchester, is a complicated, messy situation. Although all of our items are fairly traded and made using environmentally sustainable practices, I can't help but see that they are most decorative, impractical luxuries that the people I live near can even think about buying, let alone afford to. And my job description is essentially "to increase sales... so we can buy more and help more people". Our business model even suggests that encouraging materialistic practices (see more on this shortly) is the cure for reducing global poverty. That's a hard practice for me to buy into (but I literally have, haven't I?), and I have to hope that there is something beyond Fair Trade as a cure for the world's ills.

Clearly, the money made from these sales is helping people to have jobs - sustainable, good jobs - in places where they wouldn't have work. The marginalized women, lepers, disabled, religiously discriminated - all find a place of affirmation and encouragement in the co-operatives we work with. In a globalized world, where our next-door neighbors are connected to us just as much as those who labor in the fields and factories of El Salvador, Pakistan and Ethiopia, stepping back from fair trade buying and focusing on purchasing (or even producing) locally produced goods raises as many questions as buying products made in the worst of conditions, sold by companies practicing the most devious procedures. 10,000 Villages is somewhat of a gem in the midst of a field of horse poo; you can't walk into our store without a salesperson explaining the vision behind what we do and why it's important.

I would encourage people to shop at a place like 10,000 Villages under particular circumstances. Many of us, or our friends, are getting married. Perhaps setting up a registry with a shop like this is a wise choice; people can buy a new couple all sorts of nice things for their house, that aren't made in sweatshops somewhere, and maybe in navigating the registry web site they'll learn a little about Fair Trade and think about the implications of their other economic habits. It's also a wonderful place to buy birthday cards and plenty of practical thing.

Prompted by comments below, I've re-edited this portion of the post (for a second time) on 7/5/2009. But when it comes to the excesses I see go on under our roof, I have all sorts of questions racing through my brain. Recently, a woman purchased $900 worth of goods. She couldn't carry it all! When she came back for the rest, she decided there was $300 more that she couldn't live without. In two days, she dropped $1,200 on our store because she didn't know to say "No". I don't know where she spent the rest of her money. I don't know if she has the cash on hand to make purchases like this on a regular basis, or if it's driving up her debt. Initially, on this blog, I voiced a desire for her to spend that money other places. But, the truth be told, she might have done that very thing! I think my frustration, grounded in pure assumption, was dangerous and misplaced. I am still very concerned over our company's marketing strategies, which fit into an overall economic model that seems to manipulate consumers into saying "Yes" when in fact they could be saying "No" or "I'd rather send my money in a different direction". The customer in question affirmed our store's vision and respected -- even loved -- the way in which we work. But she also couldn't say "No", and our job is to take that momentum and fuel it, to generate more sales. The fact that she could not say "No" bothers me; and the fact that we encouraged her to keep saying yes bothers me even more. However, the fact that she came into our store and loved our program and vision was a huge encouragement. So, it's tricky, to say the least.

With that in mind, my thoughts about economic structure muddy the water even more. And this is where things sound really controversial, so please just bear with me and consider where I am at and what I am wrestling with. The level of complicity that we all have with the global economy reminds me very much of the passages in Revelation that talk about men and women taking the mark of 666 in order to participate in the day-to-day goings-on of the world around them; scholars tell us that taking the mark is not that different from a modern-day social security number, or a bank account -- the very numbers that allow us to participate in society. If we looked around at the effects of most of our economic decisions, we would see how much damage we wreak on the worlds. Our banks and most of our biggest corporations are involved in coups, environmental destruction, and all sorts of destructive practices around the globe.

They are not the harbingers of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Yet we continue to fill up our cars with gas, and live in all sorts of other ways that presuppose the suffering of others. If I get a socially responsible credit card account through Bank of America, and plan to use it to buy solely fair trade products, it's still with Bank of America. I have, in effect, taken the mark in order to feed those in distress - something John, the author of the Revelation, still criticizes and warns against. Without the marks of today, participating in an economy - even the fair trade elements of it - would be impossible; we wouldn't even be able to go get a sandwich without cash or credit in our pockets.

Yet, at the same time, we live in a society in which we are permitted some level of economic participation, albeit on the terms of those who control the system itself. However, we are learning that we, as consumers, also have some measure of control with our purchasing power. If enough people insist on Fair Trade options in stores, and put in the hard work of making those options a reality, they can be there. And if enough people make a convincing case for the Gospel and against materialism, hearts and lives can be changed. While the Revelation of John suggests difficult things about our economic place, it also encourages us to live faithfully in light of the fact that, at the culmination of everything, Christ is King and will sit on His throne. The Gospel message commends us to live in the light of His Kingship today, and maybe a part of that is making responsible decisions about where and how we spend our money in a world where fair and unfair are both options.

I have many other thoughts about Fair Trade and its implications. And, despite all of these struggles, I'll continue to push forward with my internship and my part-time job, because I want to believe another world is possible in which economies can reflect God's justice and mercy. The growing success of Fair Trade in places like Jamaica Plain, Mass., and Media, PA, might one day have an effect of considering corporate leaders to reconsider the way in which they do business - not to mention the condition of the heart behind it. And maybe we can get to a place where we are not the only ones buying the expensive art work for the sake of materialism; perhaps it comes as part of a more dimensional trade between a North American family and the family who produced the piece. What I mean is that I don't want to just buy fair trade stuff, I want to meet and eat Communion with the men, women and children who produce it!

For example: We often think of Africa as this dirty, poor, messed up place - but sleek white and pink Kenyan stonework reminds us of the richness of the culture and joy of the people. Many of us critique the United States (with sound reason at our backs), and are quick to point out our government's corruption and the materialism of our people. But I'd like to believe the same richness that allows joyful, beautiful Kenyan stonework to be crafted with delicacy and convey a beautiful message of hope and relationship is also found in some places across the United States. I'd love to get my hands dirty making a craft and being able to share its story over a meal with a Kenyan stoneworker.

Now, brothers and sisters, let's reason to together and spur one another on toward good deeds, always going deeper and pushing one another to critically wrestle with the implications of our decisions and life choices.

Thanks for your readership,
-- BC

Something about gardening

For the longest time, I've been saying "I'd love to get my hands dirty in a garden". And then, wouldn't you know it, I made myself entirely too busy or made up excuses to skip a trip to the community garden at Frazer, or step up and help start one at Eastern. Now, I think my other commitments and obligations were legitimate at the time, but now that I live in the middle of a pretty grey and drab part of Boston, the urgency of re-connecting with the land is becoming a bigger deal. And in that light, Wendell Berry is getting moved to the top of my reading list (once I finish The Beloved Community, which you will read about on here once I'm done with it).

A quick glance around my neighborhood revealed that a grocery resembling Acme and Genuardi's (for those of you in New England, Shaw's or Stop and Shop), is not within walking distance. And, most of the people who frequent large grocery chains have the money and means to buy 4,6 or more bags of groceries to last the entire week, or maybe even longer in some cases.

Many of the kids in my neighborhood struggle with obesity; and a quick look at their diets indicates that someone might pick up a few TV dinners on the way home, because, after all, they're only $1 a piece. When you have a limited amount of time, money and hands to carry things, it's easier to walk to Brother's Grocery, pick up a few things, bring them home and prepare them quickly than it is to drive to Stop-and-Shop, pick up potatoes, spinach, cereal, milk, eggs, etc., etc., and develop a week's recipes for balanced meals. Or, maybe you take the bus to Stop-and-Shop... but you buy the same stuff, because you have to take the bus back to your neighborhood and walk home from the bus stop. And you only have two hands.

But, now, in what way are the families pursuing these habits any different than a number of suburban families? I grew up in Exeter, NH, as an only child. My family currently owns four cars between the three of us, and within 5 miles we have access to Stop and Shop, Shaws, and Market Basket. There's also a smaller, pricier organic-type grocery called On the Vine, and Hampton Natural Foods and Hannaford aren't all that far away, either. The number of cars we own could be critiqued by some for plenty of reasons; I mention it only to say that it's really easy for any of us to get to the store, load up the car or truck with 8-10 bags of groceries, and get them home in a timely fashion.

While my mother used to take a good deal of time to prepare every meal we ate, and often still does, it's not like she represents every suburban mom out there. I've witnessed plenty of Moms and Dads who are so busy with their demanding jobs and social lives, that their children are often handed the same crummy food that some of the kids in my neighborhood are. And while some of the families in my block might be plagued by alcoholism, a quick glance around my former neighborhood in Exeter, or dare I say, Wayne, shows that some families suffer from workaholism.

Okay, so as usual, I've ranted for a couple of paragraphs. But now I'd like to get constructive. See, a few days ago, I spent some time with Leah, Kim, Elizabeth, Magen, Andy, Laura, Booker, and a whole bunch of kids and parents from the block - whose names I can pronounce but not spell yet - building a 4 x 8 raised bed -- on a plot of land poisoned by lead, making it impossible to plant in the land itself (hence the necessity of a raised bed). Filling my truck with dirt, arriving at the property, seeing the joy on the kids' faces as tutors showed up with popsicles and face paint, seeing how excited the "adults" (sorry, I don't think of us 20-somethings as adults, yet) were to get this project underway after some delays in past weeks, was a refreshing, collective experience. Elizabeth showed us all how to plant tomatoes, sweet onions, herbs and who knows what else (I was too busy trying to make sure the watering can made it around to all of the kids, that I didn't really focus on the types of plants we put in).

Here I was, a suburban kid who didn't care much for gardening, or anything related to the natural world, until 2-3 years ago. And my Dad had a huge garden in our backyard up until a few years ago! Maybe one of the ways to practice redemption is for the Christian community to do things like get our family together and plant a garden in the back yard. Doing this on a land poisoned by lead in a pretty rough part of Dorchester might be just as powerful as Mom and Dad taking one day of work off each week in Wayne to spend time with their kids and get their hands dirty together, instead of handing them over to a nanny or taking them to run around concrete wastelands like the King of Prussia Mall.

Maybe the problems that face communities like Dorchester aren't all that different from those in places like Waybe; sin, and its effect, take on very different faces but when the consequences are neglected kids, who don't know and don't care about the very land that they walk on (and really depend on), redemption is needed in both places and can be a powerful sign of the Kingdom of God breaking forth in the world, here and now.