Community and the mob

This week has been a tough week. As a result this is a long post. However, it was also a week with a lot of new experiences and tons of learning.
My son’s best friend, a young man who is like a son to me, a good natured, helpful and caring 17-year-old teenager was dealt a card at his young age, a card all of us fear, one that would cause each of us nightmares.
When he reached the crest of a hill on a deserted country road while driving his 7-year old brother to school, he suddenly was confronted with a school bus a short distance down the other side of the hill, a bus that had stopped to pick up some young kids for a new day at school. Winter here in the Chinook region tends to melt the snow at some periods, turning it into ice at night. That morning a fresh layer of snow was falling on the ice underneath turning the road into the perfect tobogganing ground, but an impossible condition to stop a car at such short distance for such unexpected circumstances.
When the young driver hit his brakes, his vehicle went into a long slide. He saw the children on the side of the road waiting for the bus driver to give them permission to cross the road. As his vehicle was going to collide into the back of the bus, he thought he could make it in between the bus and the children and avoid hurting anyone. And so he steered his vehicle next to the bus while honking his horn to warn the children and the bus driver. As the brakes blocked the wheels the continuous friction on the tires was reducing the vehicle’s speed, but it wasn’t enough to come to a stand still before reaching the children. By that time two of the three children had made it to the bus but the third had stayed behind on the driveway and when he was about to cross the road, the side of the sliding car hit the 7-year-old boy before it came to a full stop in the ditch a short distance past the bus. While his 7-year-old brother confirmed he was OK, the young teenager jumped out of the car, wrapped the young child (same age as his own brother), who had fallen into the ditch upon contact with the car, in his coat and carried him into the bus. At first it looked like the boy was going to be fine as there was no blood and the vehicle had almost come to a stand still upon impact. But then the little boy started to cough. By then, the father had appeared on the scene. He tried to perform CPR, but despite all prayers and efforts, the young boy passed away. At that moment the lives of all those involved and affected changed forever.
I’ve had a similar loss years ago and know how the hearts of the family members of the 7-year-old are bleeding. My prayers are with them, they will need all the strength and support they can get, not just over the next few days, but over the next weeks, months and years. However, I hadn’t experienced the other side of such tragedy from such close proximity. When such a senseless event destroys lives, lives as they had existed until that day of not one, but of two families (actually I should say three as the bus driver must have been banged up as well), there is heartfelt pain in the hearts of all the involved family members and their extended communities.
Over the days that followed I observed the best and the worst of human nature.
The community came together in support of the family that lost a 7-year old child ready to explore life, but also for a 17-year old young man who had to carry the unimaginable load of having taken that life while attempting to prevent harm to anyone. The community school became a point of coordination for gifts and support for the grieving family. The school children were counseled and told how their fellow school friend had gone to heaven. But those same children, some of which were on that very bus on that tragic morning, inquired about the well being of the teenage driver, who had been a student in the same school just a few years ago. The teachers and the principle mourned and prayed for both. Community members visited the families of both the 7-year-old child who lost his life and the 17-year-old driver. They brought food and heartfelt love and care in an attempt to ease the pain of this tragic event. Both mothers sobbed heartbroken. The father of the death child expressed that he was not blaming the teenager and shared how he remembered being a teen too. The father of the teenager mourned about the loss of life of a child as old as his own son, a child whose parents he knew, a child he was coaching in hockey. And there was off course the teenager, grief stricken unable to breathe and understand why he was not the one who had died that morning.
But as the community was surrounding those who were hurt with care and support, the vultures arrived as well. Armed with cameras and microphones they came attracted by the smell of blood, a smell their crowd feeds on, just like the spectators at Rome’s coliseum two-thousand years ago. Their main purpose off course was not to report the facts, when do we ever see facts these days in the news, nor was it to report on the story of how a community pulled together in a time of tragedy. Their only interest was to find out who they could blame, crucify, feed to the mob which was eagerly waiting, ready, stones in hand, impatient to cast their judgment. Who cared that the police investigation wasn’t finished and would take days due a number of unclear variables that had been in play that very morning. Who cares about thorough investigation and legal process these days, the mob wanted blood; know where to cast their stones.
And this one was obvious; there was a teenage driver involved. Teenagers the embarrassment of society, the villains—or so we treat them all too often—instead of the young adults they are in search of identity, trying to carve out their space in an ever more confused world. Why is it we forget so fast how important those years were for every one of us? And that morning though, it wouldn’t have mattered, anyone of us who would have reached the top of that hill at that very moment would have been in dire straits.
In their desperate search for blood, the media skillfully put together a horrifying story and that night presented the mob with what they were waiting for: a teenager who ignored school bus safety regulations, tried to speed past a bus that was picking up some young innocent children and brutally killed one of them. The mob, eager and content with the bone they were thrown, jumped on it, filling in the blanks about how the mindless teenager had been in a hurry, trailing the bus at close distance, inconsiderately sped by it when it stopped and didn’t even attempt to slow down when he saw the children in the middle of the road. Stones were flying, stupid teenagers, never caring about the world around them, and most certainly this teenager, killing a 7-year-old, he had to hang. And in cyberspace the mob eagerly went on doing just that, despite attempts of community members to ease the emotions and bring a sense of perspective and facts to the mob’s attention. Now I know from whom our children learn to bully in cyberspace.
I have seen the best and the worst of humanity this week. I know who belongs to the caring community but I’m not sure who belongs to the mob. (Forgot to tell that, the mob hides behind pseudo names in cyberspace—cowards!).
The experience has raised many questions in my mind? What makes people so heartless, unable to show any sign of empathy, unable to imagine how life might deal them such a card in the future, unable to acknowledge that life is rarely that black and white, unable to recognize the possibility of an unfortunate story leading to a tragic event. Why, in our culture, do we always have to be able to cast blame, point a finger and judge someone, instead of reaching out, providing support, and caring about one another, despite our mistakes. Is such judgment necessary for us to learn, or is it simply because as long as we are casting stones, we don’t have to look at our own lives and actions, and learn from those? Or is it because when communities become too big, like in our cities, they break down and become a mob? I wonder if smaller communities are more forgiving, more caring, for the simple reason that people know each other and will continue living together. Is it cities that make our hearts cold, just as the concrete that surrounds them? Are cities places where people are unable to care for their neighbor, places that smolder our ability for empathy, places where we have to fend for ourselves and where we learn to distract attention from our own person by pointing to and crucifying someone else? Or is it simply the further we are distanced from the events the harsher our judgment becomes? Are the same people who are caring members of their community on one day, ready to join the mob the next day to condemn another human being they don’t know.
I don’t have any answers to the above questions, but think of this: How would you feel when it is your turn? How would you feel when the mob surrounds you ready to cast its stones? Would you like them to listen to your story, wait for the results of the investigations before casting their stones? Would you like them to feel your pain, your agony and your despair because you can’t turn back time?
How will you feel when it is you turn?
This week, I have seen the best and worst of human nature. This week, I have experienced humanity’s light and shadow side. May more choose to spread their light!

Corporate Death Penalty

Last night I finally watched The world according to Monsanto. A number of readers of Seeds of Germination or Termination told me I had to watch it. The documentary was produced during the same time I wrote Seeds. Based on the research I had done, I knew the plot of my story was not too far out there. However, the documentary made me realize that I might have set my story too far into the future.
If you cannot get the DVD, I strongly encourage you to watch the videos on YouTube:

The documentary demonstrates how Monsanto's story is one of deceit, pollution, bullying, greed, and an unscrupulous drive to control the world's food supply. Their reach and practices in both the developed and developing world turns farmers back into feudal laborers and public service administrators in feudal servants.
While the video raises a lot of questions about our food safety, farm practices and GMO technology, the bigger question is what it tells us about the state of democracies around the world. When one corporation (and there are others in different industries with similar power) can effectively employ farmers in a feudal system by collecting money of each acre the farmer cultivates, when one corporation can poison entire communities premeditated and settle in court for a few million dollars, when one corporation can influence government administrations around the world to the extend that they ignore, downplay and outright dismiss the warnings of scientist, there is clearly something wrong with democracy and the notion of "by the people, for the people." "By the corporation, for the corporation" seems to be a more accurate description.
But Monsanto executives, (and others) would (and could) tell us they played by the rules. Even when they withheld information about the poisonous nature of their effluents and poisoned men, women and children, even when they falsified scientific research so they could demonstrate the safety of their product, even when they misinformed the public by deliberate lies in their advertising, they always paid their fines as imposed by the legal system. So they came clean.
It's like when you get a speeding ticket. You speed, get caught and pay a fine. Or is it? Well, if you get one speeding ticket after another, your insurance rate goes up and eventually your drivers license gets pulled. Or maybe it compares to drunk driving. You drink, get pulled over, get fined ...and your vehicle is confiscated. You drink, drive, kill someone and go to jail. Mmmmh, I guess that is not a good comparison either. No one ever goes to jail for blatant corporate misbehavior.
Here's the real problem, at one point in time we granted corporations the same legal rights as individuals, but we did not adapt our legal system so that they could be held accountable in the same way. When people die due to corporate negligence or even worse, intended violation of the rules in the pursuit of profits, we should be able to bring criminal charges against the corporation. "Wait!" you say, "but how can you jail a corporation?" We can't, but we certainly can give it the death penalty and close the corporation down. See the problem is that as long as it is cheaper to pay the fines for breaking the rules in comparison to making profits from breaking those rules, corporations not only have an incentive to break the rules, since it is the plight of executives to optimize shareholders profits, we are telling them they should break the rules.
Off course there is the argument that we cannot close a corporation that employees tens of thousands of employees. The economic argument trumps values and ethics once again. But surely according to Adam Smith's invisible hand, there must be other companies that would fill the void, grab market share and hire new employees. And surely we could come up with a transition plan for the company's employees. We have to realize that once unethical behavior immerses a corporate culture, it is beyond saving, and it can never benefit society to keep such entity alive.
If we would want to limit the impact of such drastic action, we might want to consider to limit the size of corporations, which in turn would not allow them to get such influence on governments and effectively become feudal rulers that manipulate democracies to serve their corporate interest. But that is an entirely different topic, something for another blog, another time.
And if you want to protect your family from GMO foods, Greenpeace has a great consumer guide to do just that: http://gmoguide.greenpeace.ca/shoppers_guide.pdf

Highlight of the day

This post is difficult to write. Sometimes words are so limiting in describing feelings and presence. Today was my birthday. Despite the many wishes, presents and good intentions of all those around me, I did not feel particularly happy, ...nor sad. It was one of those introverted days when the world around me doesn't seem to touch me, or cannot reach me. Not sure what causes those days.
After a delicious dinner (which I cooked :-) I love cooking), my wife and I cuddled on the couch and together with the kids watched Heartland and House. It was a nice evening but not enough to make me write this.
Just before midnight, I decided to step on the deck to greet the full moon and was awestruck with the dominating halo in the dark night sky. It filled the heavens like white foggy flames dancing around a vast black funnel through which the female energies of the full moon were channeled to earth. Never in my life had I seen anything like it. I called those in the house who were still awake to the deck to share the experience.
It was simply magical. The silence of the night, the crisp air on my skin, the bright light of the moon and the mysterious black circle, marked by white fog, almost taking up the entire sky. As I sat outside drinking in the moment, I realized I forgot to let the horses out.
My wife and I had gone for a ride late afternoon and had put our willing steeds in the barn so they could dry up before turning them out with the rest of the herd in the cold of the freezing night. Mike, my horse and friend hates the stalls. So leaving him there overnight wasn't something I was going to let him endure. In a way I was glad he provided me a reason to get outside in this powerful night. So I hiked to the barn to allow my four footed friends to join their brother and sisters .
It is here that words fall short to describe the experience and feelings that immersed my being. I stayed outside for about half an hour, just hanging out with the horses who at first, in the excitement of uniting, were galloping through the snow in the moonlit field. As I was soaking in the night, admired the grace of these majestic animals and reflected on the ride we made earlier in the day, it struck me how lucky I really am to experience all this. Mike, my muscular four footed friend carries me willingly on his back whenever and wherever I want to go. He warms me when I need warmth, runs with me when I desire speed and comforts me when I need a grounding companion. When we ride, I feel his muscles work, his lungs fill with oxygen, his heart beat, and his spirit dance. It's like our souls merge, as one.
Mike doesn't pollute the air, doesn't need gas and doesn't make any roaring sounds. Surely, he cannot carry me in just a few hours to another continent like the metal tubes with wings we fly in, nor can he role me from city to city. But when we hectically travel around the world in our metal transportation boxes, how much of the world do we really see? How much of the magic of life do we really experience? Do we pause to observe the timeless beauty of a tree, the perfect shape of an ice crystal, the cool dry air on our skin, the grace of an animal? Do we let the magic of the winter night sky touch our souls as our hearts soak in peace with creatures who walk on four legs, carry us on their backs and whose language we do not speak?
Nature is such a powerful teacher. I hope many more will explore its lessons so that we can detach of material possessions, silence our machines, slow our pace and allow the magnificence of creation to touch our souls, so that our hearts can experience the radiant joy of light and bathe in peace by simply being and enjoying the moment.