Perspective

It's Tuesday morning. Sitting here, looking out the window, it occurs to me that I could describe the morning as cool and dreary (that would be the perspective from outside) or I could describe it as muted and cozy (that would be the perspective from inside). I had a long talk this week with Drew during which he really called me on the fact that my mood is primarily dependent on my perspective, not my situation per se. He also pointed out--kindly but firmly--that the former needed some consistent, genuine work. The actual conversation was longer, tougher and more circuitous than that concise and sort of neutral summary might suggest, but that's the point I'm holding on to at the moment. So, my ongoing goal is to keep my perspective--on my personal life, at least--on a tight leash, otherwise it can pull me right off the trail I'm trying to head down and drag me around into all sorts of muddy, messy places. Hence...it's a muted, cozy Tuesday morning, with a soft grey sky hovering over the mountains.

I actually find myself anxious for class, which is a good feeling. Classes here meet once a week or less, but for big blocks of time...anywhere from an hour and a half to all day, with my two weekly classes meeting in three hour sessions. So I do all this reading, and get all into it, and then have to wait several days to talk about it...so that is hard in some ways, but I'm really enjoying the feeling of anticipation about it. It's a good feeling to be so looking forward to the meetings.

Today, as I worked on one of my papers, I was thinking about the comparison between Appalachia and colonized areas around the world. It's a comparison I heard drawn when I first moved to West Virgina, and since have often used myself. In fact, I basically focused on West Virginia for every assignment in last semester's course on International Development (my professor humored me, basically agreeing with the comparison). So I am thinking about that this morning, particularly after starting a book on the power and limits of metaphor in social theory (Incidentally, I'm happily surprised at how much of my background in literary theory is transferable to conflict theory and research approaches, that's pretty awesome :) ).

The thing that is in my head this morning, in terms of that comparison, is the idea of what could have been. The capacity and desire to do hypothetical thinking is essential for nonprofit work, peacebuilding, and no doubt a host of other types of work, because you need to be able to have a vision for what could be, how things could be different (albeit a very flexible vision so you don't become a big, bad, imperialistic hegemonic oppressor). Most of the time, that's a very inspiring, liberating, useful faculty. However there are situations in which the "what if" dreaming can become a little depressing.

For example, I am remembering an article I read about development in different areas in Africa, and the author made this point that because of this history of colonialism, there is this huge unknowable of how Africa might have developed on its own, or what it could have been (ok, I'm cringing at the connotations of that language, but please understand my point is that colonialism stripped much of the continent of resources and created a huge mess that a lot of time and resources have gone into trying to recover from, _not_ that the whole continent is somehow a lost cause or failure). This is one area where I think the parallels between Appalachia and post-colonial regions are very striking.

Sometimes when I'm reading about some of the struggles in Appalachia--be it "internal" struggles like economic development or education or health, or "external" struggles like people fighting against destructive mining practices--I wonder what would have happened if the history and development of the region had gone differently. It is such an amazing place, with an incredible cultural heritage, a history of strong, creative people, and obviously an incredible wealth of natural resources. And, again, not to imply that Appalachia is a mess, but there are so many issues there linked to structural and historical injustice. Of course, one could make that same general statement about a lot of places in America, as well as elsewhere, but sometimes it just breaks my heart to think about what a raw deal the region has gotten, historically, and continues to get in many ways.

That motivates me, though, in the same moment that it makes my heart sink a little.

It's nearly noon now. I had planned to go to the store to get some flour so I could make cookies, but that may need to wait until tomorrow. It continues to be a novelty that the store here is about one mile (or five minutes) away, but somehow it still takes me several days between when I put something on my shopping list and when I actually make it out to get it.

Reading back over this, it occurs to me I may need to work on the balance between poetry and politics in my life over the next few months. I'm not too worried, though, politics only ever wins temporarily in my world :) .