A message to my fellow Common Security Club members:
I confess, besides catching up with work and such, I've been lost in space (cyberspace, that is), since our first meeting last weekend. It was just too much fun to be learning all the ins and outs of the twitterverse and following the "journos" (new word for me) at the teabagasm events around the nation. Oh, the tales I could tell, having heard all the quips and "personal" comments from behind the scenes! Lots of fun--almost like "being there".
Which brings me to the point I wanted to communicate today. About how we are all connected. It's a very simple thought, one that makes common sense when you think at a meta level about all life on earth being part of one large ecological system. But it has come more into focus these days in terms of the kind of social networking we do on the internet (Facebook, Linked-In, blogging websites, Twitter, texting, etc).
It seems to be important, though, to combine that e-socializing with the face-to-face in order to build the kind of personal connection needed for a relationship, whether that be a personal, a group, or a community kind of relationship. For example, while the recent political campaign of Barack Obama was successful in its use of the most advanced communication technology, use was also made of town halls and community organizing. In these venues, personal, face to face connections could be made--people could interact with each other and form a sense of kinship that encouraged them to trust each other and work together for their common good. The personal connection is a powerful component in what people can accomplish together because it goes back to the most primal instincts of human beings--that of forming close social groups. By living and working together in social groups, people were able to survive difficult primitive conditions.
The phrase, "Six Degrees of Separation" was coined by John Guare in a play he wrote in 1990. The play explored the existential premise that everyone in the world is connected to everyone else in the world by a chain of no more than six acquaintances, thus, "six degrees of separation."
I confess, besides catching up with work and such, I've been lost in space (cyberspace, that is), since our first meeting last weekend. It was just too much fun to be learning all the ins and outs of the twitterverse and following the "journos" (new word for me) at the teabagasm events around the nation. Oh, the tales I could tell, having heard all the quips and "personal" comments from behind the scenes! Lots of fun--almost like "being there".
Which brings me to the point I wanted to communicate today. About how we are all connected. It's a very simple thought, one that makes common sense when you think at a meta level about all life on earth being part of one large ecological system. But it has come more into focus these days in terms of the kind of social networking we do on the internet (Facebook, Linked-In, blogging websites, Twitter, texting, etc).
It seems to be important, though, to combine that e-socializing with the face-to-face in order to build the kind of personal connection needed for a relationship, whether that be a personal, a group, or a community kind of relationship. For example, while the recent political campaign of Barack Obama was successful in its use of the most advanced communication technology, use was also made of town halls and community organizing. In these venues, personal, face to face connections could be made--people could interact with each other and form a sense of kinship that encouraged them to trust each other and work together for their common good. The personal connection is a powerful component in what people can accomplish together because it goes back to the most primal instincts of human beings--that of forming close social groups. By living and working together in social groups, people were able to survive difficult primitive conditions.
The phrase, "Six Degrees of Separation" was coined by John Guare in a play he wrote in 1990. The play explored the existential premise that everyone in the world is connected to everyone else in the world by a chain of no more than six acquaintances, thus, "six degrees of separation."
In the play, one of the characters states:
"I read somewhere that everybody on this planet is separated by only six other people. Six degrees of separation between us and everyone else on this planet. The President of the United States, a gondolier in Venice, just fill in the names. I find it A) extremely comforting that we're so close, and B) like Chinese water torture that we're so close because you have to find the right six people to make the right connection... I am bound to everyone on this planet by a trail of six people."[16] (From Wikipedia).
I must say, I had a most striking experience of this phenomenon, this kind of six degrees of separation just today at lunch. I met a beautiful young African American woman at Kuff's (Charles Kuffner) Democratic lunch bunch. She is the "communications coordinator" for Anise Parker's Houston mayoral candidacy. In talking with her about how her boss, Anise, would be a good mayor, I told her about our meeting to explore how a local community group might provide mutual aid and support to each other in times of economic uncertainty. I told her how we'd talked both about forming a local currency for exchange of goods and talents that may not currently be valued in the mainstream economy.
I told her about how we talked about the possibility that foreclosed houses or apartment buildings inside the loop in Houston could be purchased and remodeled to LEEDS standards with some of the federal stimulus money, and how this could help many people who were struggling to find affordable housing. Moreover I told her how this conversation came about in brainstorming about how there are a rising number of aging single women (and others, of course) who would prefer living in the city where they could form relationships with others who shared their values (and she added, in affirmation, "whether they were brown, black, or white, right?"--to which I added, of course! --She had just told me how she struggled to find affordable housing as a single female when she moved to Houston from Chicago several years ago.) And I added that, in fact, there are several women in our group that fit that characterization I described.
I also told her how we talked about our visions for renewing the city's transportation infrastructure, using federal stimulus money for building a light rail system that would cut down on the fossil fuels being used for suburban-city commuting purposes. Of course, I told her one of Mayor White's reasons for suggesting the idea of making inner city homes desirable, affordable, and energy smart was to cut down on the number of people having to commute into the city, not only because we are using a declining supply of foreign oil, but also because we are polluting our city skies.
After she gave me the answers she thought her boss would support and initiate if elected, we continued to talk more and I found she was enthusiastic about the idea of urban intentional community. She told me the area of town in which she lived might be an excellent starting place for exploring such community building. She expanded upon the thought of a group buying an apartment building to buying up a whole block where everyone knew each other and "had each other's backs".
Before we said our goodbyes, she smiled really big and said she had just been smiling inside the whole time since she'd first heard my name in introductions, (Thurman), because that had been the name of some of her father's people in Illinois. Chicago, I asked, since she'd said she moved here from there? No, she said, her father's people came from southern Illinois. Oh, really, I said, because my grandfather Thurman and grandmother were from that area, and had, in fact, met, swimming where the Missouri and Mississippi rivers converge at Cairo, Illinois. She, looking surprised and kind of amazed, said her father's people only lived about 40 miles from there. We both looked at each other with that kind of "knowing" look, and it was hard to break contact with each other's eyes, because we were likely telepathing (or tel-empathizing) that we were "connected" (who knows, but that we are blood relatives?).
Now, is that a story about degrees of separation or not?
Back to the line in the play where the character says, "I find it A) extremely comforting that we're so close, and B) like Chinese water torture that we're so close because you have to find the right six people to make the right connection... I am bound to everyone on this planet by a trail of six people."
Our group has six people…
Could we be the right six people?
"I read somewhere that everybody on this planet is separated by only six other people. Six degrees of separation between us and everyone else on this planet. The President of the United States, a gondolier in Venice, just fill in the names. I find it A) extremely comforting that we're so close, and B) like Chinese water torture that we're so close because you have to find the right six people to make the right connection... I am bound to everyone on this planet by a trail of six people."[16] (From Wikipedia).
I must say, I had a most striking experience of this phenomenon, this kind of six degrees of separation just today at lunch. I met a beautiful young African American woman at Kuff's (Charles Kuffner) Democratic lunch bunch. She is the "communications coordinator" for Anise Parker's Houston mayoral candidacy. In talking with her about how her boss, Anise, would be a good mayor, I told her about our meeting to explore how a local community group might provide mutual aid and support to each other in times of economic uncertainty. I told her how we'd talked both about forming a local currency for exchange of goods and talents that may not currently be valued in the mainstream economy.
I told her about how we talked about the possibility that foreclosed houses or apartment buildings inside the loop in Houston could be purchased and remodeled to LEEDS standards with some of the federal stimulus money, and how this could help many people who were struggling to find affordable housing. Moreover I told her how this conversation came about in brainstorming about how there are a rising number of aging single women (and others, of course) who would prefer living in the city where they could form relationships with others who shared their values (and she added, in affirmation, "whether they were brown, black, or white, right?"--to which I added, of course! --She had just told me how she struggled to find affordable housing as a single female when she moved to Houston from Chicago several years ago.) And I added that, in fact, there are several women in our group that fit that characterization I described.
I also told her how we talked about our visions for renewing the city's transportation infrastructure, using federal stimulus money for building a light rail system that would cut down on the fossil fuels being used for suburban-city commuting purposes. Of course, I told her one of Mayor White's reasons for suggesting the idea of making inner city homes desirable, affordable, and energy smart was to cut down on the number of people having to commute into the city, not only because we are using a declining supply of foreign oil, but also because we are polluting our city skies.
After she gave me the answers she thought her boss would support and initiate if elected, we continued to talk more and I found she was enthusiastic about the idea of urban intentional community. She told me the area of town in which she lived might be an excellent starting place for exploring such community building. She expanded upon the thought of a group buying an apartment building to buying up a whole block where everyone knew each other and "had each other's backs".
Before we said our goodbyes, she smiled really big and said she had just been smiling inside the whole time since she'd first heard my name in introductions, (Thurman), because that had been the name of some of her father's people in Illinois. Chicago, I asked, since she'd said she moved here from there? No, she said, her father's people came from southern Illinois. Oh, really, I said, because my grandfather Thurman and grandmother were from that area, and had, in fact, met, swimming where the Missouri and Mississippi rivers converge at Cairo, Illinois. She, looking surprised and kind of amazed, said her father's people only lived about 40 miles from there. We both looked at each other with that kind of "knowing" look, and it was hard to break contact with each other's eyes, because we were likely telepathing (or tel-empathizing) that we were "connected" (who knows, but that we are blood relatives?).
Now, is that a story about degrees of separation or not?
Back to the line in the play where the character says, "I find it A) extremely comforting that we're so close, and B) like Chinese water torture that we're so close because you have to find the right six people to make the right connection... I am bound to everyone on this planet by a trail of six people."
Our group has six people…
Could we be the right six people?
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