Coffee Concerns

Glass jar?

I made a choice some time ago that I would stick with Cafe Puro for my coffee needs.  I based my decision on two things:  It comes in a glass jar, and Nestle doesn't make it.  I drink instant coffee because brewing coffee takes up time and space that I don't choose to give to that activity.  I started drinking instant coffee when I was living in Lamu, Kenya, while doing the field research for my dissertation.  Ma Rukia, my cook,* would boil a kettle of water on the tiny charcoal "stove" that she used and give me a thermos of water to last the rest of the day for my coffee (or tea) needs.  With a microwave, now I don't need the thermos, but I do like the convenience of having my coffee fairly quickly without a lot of fuss.  Once I became aware of Nestle's exploitive practices and then of the evils of plastic, I made my choice.

Cafe Puro is, however, made from coffee grown in the Philippines and manufactured and shipped from Germany to my local HEB.  I had been drinking HEB's generic brand coffee because the taste was acceptable, and the cost was cheaper than name brands, but HEB coffee comes in plastic jars.  I still use my old plastic containers from HEB's instant coffee to store my Cafe Puro.  The container with the red lid is with caffeine, the one with the green lid is without caffeine.  The plastic containers, of course, are safer in the kitchen in case you drop one.  (I'll think about microplastics later.)  Wanting to make a change to buying coffee in glass containers is what made me realize that only Nestle seemed to place their instant coffee in glass.  Not wanting to knowingly fund that corporation, I was relieved to find Cafe Puro available at my HEB.  I decided (rationalized, yes) that even though it was grown in the Philippines, I could justify it as honoring the sacrifices that my father made to fight for their liberation from Japan during World War II (issues of colonialism in the past notwithstanding).  As for manufacture in Germany, I decided (again, rationalized) that, since the ships that bring this little bit of coffee to the US are going to sail anyway, I wasn't adding significantly to the consumption of fossil fuels by buying it.  And, anyway, it wasn't Nestle, and I was reusing the old plastic, and recycling the glass, and, well, doing my best.

Now I'm sitting in my hotel room in New York, sipping the Cafe Puro that I brought with me in specially saved mini-jars, carefully protected from breakage while packed in my luggage, and thinking about the ethics of my coffee.  That led to googling brands of coffee made in the Western Hemisphere.  Welp, we still don't grow coffee in Texas, but there is a fair bit of the world's coffee grown further south.  I'm looking at Cafe Bustelo right now, grown in Colombia and Mexico, and . . . sold in glass jars.  Sadly HEB doesn't seem to stock this version of Cafe Bustelo (they have ground and K-Cups and individual packages of instant), but Target lists it in several versions.  I can't tell from the pictures that all versions are in glass; that will take a trip to the store itself (when I get home).

In Ethical Culture we talk about trying to do what is right, but "right" sometimes needs some work to define it.  So does the "do."  My reasons for switching to Cafe Puro were an attempt to find a better way to get my daily caffeine, but now I think it's time to go a step further.  When I get back home, I will go to Target and see the Cafe Bustelo jars for myself.  If the local Target doesn't stock what I want (sustainably grown coffee with reduced shipping costs packed in glass jars), I can always order it for delivery--which leads to the next set of questions about what is "right" and what to "do" in regard to Amazon.

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*It was considered "bad form" for an mzungu to live on the island without hiring local residents to work in some capacity.  Ma Rukia cooked and cleaned and helped with laundry, but she also became a trusted advisor who helped me understand more about the local culture and its norms.  I couldn't have managed without her help.

In with the New, Out with the Old

How can we be sticky?

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That seems to be the way we think these days.  If it's old, throw it away.  If it is old, something--anything--new will be better.  Unfortunately, there is no "away."  If it is material and old, it has to go somewhere.  If it is non-material and old, there is that thing about "tried and true" to be considered.  There is also that problem of defining (and agreeing upon) "better."  I suppose this makes me a hoarder of both things and ideas, but I'd rather think of myself as someone who appreciates the value of things (whether physical or intellectual) as useful objects, even if they only serve to help me understand the world a little bit better.

So, it's a new year.  I am cleaning and clearing a bit.  I ran across an old document from my community organizing days.  It's so old, it was printed with a dot matrix printer.  The title is "Telephone Committee," and the entire (one-page) document is a plan for communicating within a community about events, issues, and needs.  There's a committee chair, 4 committee members, 4 groups of contacts with telephone numbers, and the mandate is simple:  connect to our neighbors, inform them of issues and events, listen to their concerns, bring those concerns back to the center of the organization.

Times have changed, of course.  Most homes no longer have a single "land line" for the whole house to use.  Email and texts have largely taken the place of personal phone calls.  Neighbors seem to meet face-to-face less often (although some may communicate through online groups via Facebook or other platforms).  If I were to propose that we form a Telephone Committee to my neighborhood today, I would be laughed at as out-of-touch and a technological failure.  

Even so, seeing that old Telephone Committee list brought back a reminder of the social context as well as the technological context.  Yes, we have new tech and new ways to communicate these days.  But, look again.  One of the major problems facing our nation today is loneliness.  Our nation is divided by technology that transmits false messages with high persuasiveness.  Our social institutions are literally crumbling around us as we lose confidence in those who lead and/or serve us.  

That Telephone Committee list, however, spoke of a social connection among the homeowners of a single neighborhood.  Despite diversity in age and income and social history, there was common concern with environmental issues, public services (and lack thereof), local government actions that would affect the comfort and cost of living in that neighborhood.  There was, in the limited framework of those (still quite broad) issues, a cohesion and a sense of belonging to a group with purpose and value.  The Telephone Committee played a role in developing and maintaining the group, serving as a connector between the more activist "leaders" and those who were concerned, but not actively working on the issues until called into action.  Rather than being "top-down," however, the TC was meant to serve as a conduit for "bottom-up" messages as well, so that the whole group could both listen and react as needed.  As an added benefit of those "connections," more informal social relations could be developed (e.g., friendships, business contacts, etc.) and "social security" within the group could be improved (e.g., neighborly help, assistance for seniors, childcare, etc.).

While the old days are certainly gone--and I don't live in that neighborhood anymore--I'm thinking that the need for a Telephone Committee might still exist.  Yes, we have email and Facebook and all that, but we still have need to "belong" as well as to "care" and to "act."  Putting this in the context of the Ethical Society rather than a physical neighborhood, once we get past the email part, the main basis of connection is the Sunday meeting.  Even that is problematic for building community since we are geographically so scattered--for the Austin Society as well as others.  While Zoom can bring even distant members together for a Sunday meeting, the question that occurs to me is how we can bridge the social distance that the physical distance is creating/prolonging/exacerbating.  

I think the ESOA Membership Committee is working on that issue.  A big part of any Membership Committee's job is not only recruitment but retention, and the initial effort of our new committee chair to focus on life events (birthdays) was good start.  I wasn't as "excited" about that effort last year as I was this year.  Last year I delayed telling the MC about my birthday until it was past--didn't want to be "asking" for attention or some nonsense.  This year, I was out of town for my birthday, but I had an electronic notice service from the USPS telling me that I had some mail from the MC waiting for me.  I knew it was a birthday card, and that pleased me.  Even better, when I got home, I had a card with a caring and uplifting message that made me feel, well, cared for and uplifted.  

The MC didn't stop with cards, tho.  Now we have a monthly gathering to craft.  The name of the group is a problem--"Stitch and Bitch" was offered by someone, but the current moniker is "Yarn and Yak"--which still makes me twitch--but the purpose of the group is "to build community."  As hard as it is to organize myself to leave the house and drive 30 miles, dragging a bag of beads and tools behind me (I don't knit), I see building community as an essential function of an Ethical Society--and an essential duty for me as a member of the Society.  This effort is a work in progress, but it is, I believe, worth the effort.  

The Austin Society is small.  Yes, we need to grow.  We also need to "stick."  Being "sticky" will help members find their place within the community that we have built (and are still building) and, hopefully, provide some of those social connections that lead to mutual support as well as to collective action.  

That being said, I know that the MC chair is working on another "old" tactic--the welcome letter.  I know for a fact that is an oldie but a goodie.  I received a welcome message (email) after my first visit to ESOA, and, never thinking that it might be "standard operating procedure," was thrilled to be welcomed and invited to come back for more.  (Cf. loneliness above.)  Unfortunately, the current version of our welcome letter is a tad out of date, and the things it promotes need some work.  That's another place at which duty seems to pop up.  The MC chair can't do this by herself, so the Communications Committee and others have some work to do.  All those links in the welcome letter need to be updated.  We could even work on being more outgoing about the things that we are doing:  If we find it interesting and satisfying to attend our events or take part in our activities, maybe others would too.  A new year is a good time to think about how we can do what we are doing a little bit better, even if we are doing it "old school," one person at a time.

Time to get sticky!  (And, great job, Lynn!)

Hide Your Children! (89th Texas Legislative Session)

The Texas Legislature will convene on January 14 and end on June 2.  Our elected representatives have already begun filing bills, and, if you want to keep up with them, you're already behind.  Well, I am behind.  I decided a few weeks ago that it was time (well past time, I'm sure) to start paying attention to what the Texas Legislature is doing.  Now that my fellow Americans have decided to send an <authoritarian> to the White House, I can't rely on wiser heads to counter the <voting choices> of my fellow Texans, who keep sending <practitioners of non-social behaviors> and/or <persons with narrow points of view> back to Austin.  Whether I can keep up with all the <ill will> and <contradictory value systems> remains to be seen.  This, however, is my beginning.

To begin, I have created a tracking list of bills that I think either proactively support or violate human rights.  I am using the Universal Declaration of Human Rights as my measuring stick either way.  I started my review of the bills filed in the Texas House (I haven't gotten to the Senate yet), and I have selected an initial 18 for tracking. (More will be selected as I have time to continue reading.)

• HB 156 - Water quality protection, disaster preparedness
• HB 157 - Water quality report
• *HB 160 - Requires federal authorization for residence to receive in-state tuition
• HB 164 - Regulations for migrant labor housing
• *HB 167 - Prohibits DEI considerations in contracts with government entities
• *HB 168 - Minimum age to marry
• *HB 174 - Childcare services, disabilities, discrimination
• *HB 178 - Requires ethnic studies public schools
• *HB 179 - Statute of limitations for child abuse claims
• HB 180 - International border control
• HB 182 - Rest breaks for contractors with public entities
• *HB 183 - Library book review and criteria for acceptance
• *HB 186 - Prohibition of social media accounts under age 18
• *HB 190 - Eligibility for reduced/free tuition for pre-K
• HB 193 - Increase minimum wage to $15
• *HB 194 - Standards for faith-based child care
• *HB 196 - Add instruction to public schools about life at conception
• *HB 197 - Conditional expansion of Medicaid

Several of these bills--marked with an asterisk--deal with schools, children, and youth.  The UDHR is particularly concerned with protecting children from exploitation for adult purposes and guaranteeing access to education.  Regardless of how "simple" or "benign" they may seem, each bill can lead to further implications for the future welfare of the children and youth of this state.

Consider HB 160, filed by Terri Leo-Wilson, from Galveston, which removes certain criteria for establishing residency in order to qualify for "in-state" tuition at Texas institutions of higher education and adds the prohibition that "a person who is not authorized under federal statute to be present in the United States may not be considered a resident of this state for purposes of this title."  The bill seems fair on its surface, the implication being that "in-state" tuition is substantially cheaper than "out-of-state" tuition and that the difference in those rates is subsidized by the taxpayers of Texas.  The catch is that, if you live in Texas (or even just pass through it), you pay Texas taxes.  Renters (and hotel customers) contribute to property taxes.  Drivers pay fuel taxes.  Shoppers--for food, for clothes, for toothpaste, etc.--pay sales taxes.

If the bill is not about fairness in funding, then it could be about the legalities of immigration.  The basic requirement (unchanged) is one-year of continuous residence in Texas by the student--or a parent of the student--prior to the "census date of the academic term."  The bills adds a new layer of regulation to the basic residence requirement by requiring that the student (without reference to their parents) be "authorized under federal statute" to reside somewhere in the United States.  Presumably all students who claim to be Texas residents would have to prove their citizenship or federally recognized status as legal residents of the US as an additional condition of accepting their qualification for "in-state" tuition.  Is it ironic to see a Republican legislator want to add more government regulations?

Perhaps the bill is really about what it takes away--the current provision that, if a student graduates from a Texas high school and that student's parents have been resident in Texas for the previous three years, then the student will be eligible for "in-state" tuition.   Those students will likely have been brought to the US by their parents while they were still minors.  Those students would likely not have made their own decision to become undocumented residents of the US.  They would have crossed the border under their parents' supervision--or overstayed their parents' visas in the same circumstances--too young to understand the law or to control their own movements.  

Bills like HB 160 have been introduced in previous sessions, so this legislative proposal is not new.  The language to be removed became law following the 79th legislative session, when Senator Judith Zaffirini's SB 1528 was passed.  Since then, at least two attempts have been made to delete the section allowing undocumented children who graduate from a Texas high school to qualify for in-state tuition and substitute the federal documentation requirement:  84R HB 2912 and 87R HB 1486.  I have no idea how much of an effort Leo-Wilson will make in order to pass this bill.  It may simply be an intimidation tactic by her party--or performance for the conservative voting base.

However, the effect of this bill, while ostensibly affecting all Texas residents--federally documented or otherwise--making them subject to the same requirements (one year of residence, federally approved presence in the US), does not comply with the UDHR requirement that "higher education shall be equally accessible on the basis of merit."  This bill would require higher tuition from students who may have lived most of their lives in Texas, who came to the state as minor children without the power to decide where they lived, whose parents paid taxes with every purchase made in Texas. As a nation, we seem to have accepted that there can be different costs associated with different levels of commitment or participation--we are very much a no-free-lunch society in our attitudes--but creating an additional barrier to education for children--even college-age children--goes against the notion of "equal access on the basis of merit."  For me, this bill is unethical.  It seeks to financially penalize and diminish the dignity of young humans on the basis of circumstances beyond their control.

For more information about the policy affected by this bill, see Higher Ed Immigration Portal's page on Texas.

Letting Go

 A recent colloquy discussion at the Ethical Society of Austin asked us to discuss "What would you save?" in the context of disaster or emergency.  Aside from needing a Go Bag, I hadn't given it much thought.  My thinking these days is more centered on Letting Go, not merely "decluttering," but detaching myself from the things that, yes, clutter up my space, but also take up needed space in my heart and mind.  

One thing I plan to let go of is a plate.  It's a pink plate with a rose on it.  When I received it as a gift, it was part of a set of four pink plates with various flowers in the center of each.  I'm not really a pink person.  Rarely is there anything pink in my wardrobe, and I am not drawn to pink objects when fighting my urge to collect knickknacks.  I'm not much of a plate person.  True, there are several plates around on various book shelves.  My mother was a plate person, so I saved a few from her collection(s) that interested me for one reason or another, but no plates hang on my walls nor have I, that I recall, actually purchased a decorative plate for my own pleasure.  The thing about this plate is that it holds painful memories.  The person who gave it to me has done some damage in my life.  I let go of three of the four plates in the set when I moved, realizing that I had no room to display them and little room to store them.  The remaining plate sits on a shelf in a display rack.  Every time I look at it, I think of how angry the giver would be that the other three plates are not also displayed--if by some remote chance she ever set foot in this house again.  I love her.  I carry her in my heart.  But I think that this object is making me hold onto negative thoughts that won't allow me to heal--or allow for any healing in a broken relationship.  I will let go of the plate today.

Another object that I am thinking about letting go of is an ebony carving.  This one holds memories of a time in my life when I--pretty much unconsciously--accumulated symbols of motherly love.  The carving is a representation of a mother holding an infant, vaguely "Madonna and child."  I believe that I bought it to give to my mother, but I don't think that I did.  Instead, I kept the "message" ("please love me?") to myself.  Now Mama did the best she good.  She was significantly handicapped.  I have no idea how she managed to carry me to term, but her determination in the things that she really wanted to do was phenomenal.  She had suffered so much in her youth that it is unimaginable that she would subject herself to a pregnancy that would lead to a cesarean birth--in the forties.  And yet she did.  As much as that might have told me about my mother's love, there were a lot of years when she was ill and understandably (to adults) cranky.  More directly affecting me was her critical insistence on high standards of behavior, appearance, and achievement.  I often felt that I was "no good," certain not "good enough."  In the last years of her life, when she had dementia, she often didn't know who I was.  Sometimes she thought I was one of her sisters, other times I was an inadequate maid who could be curtly dismissed:  "You're dismissed," as she said when some family friends were visiting.  

In the ten years since my mother passed away, I have had plenty of time to revisit these moments of pain and doubt.  I have also looked through masses of greeting cards and journal entries and letters.  Over time, the pain has lessened enough for the joy and delight to come through.  Mama was fun.  She was brave.  She was compassionate.  She was beautiful.  That may sound vain, when I point out that I glanced in the mirror one day not too long ago, pleased about something or other, and saw my mother smiling back at me.  I might have a little too much of my father's nose (bless the Parkers), but I have Mama's smile, which came to me as part of the healing that these past years have brought.  Mama did love me; she did the best she could.

I am more or less cleaning and clearing these days (mostly "less" on the cleaning bit), so I picked up the ebony carving to dust and polish it.  At that moment, I realized that I had already let go of all of those feelings of insecurity about my relationship with my mother.  Then I thought I might let go of the carving.  I have a friend who lost her daughter and is going through some hard grief.  Could this carving of motherly love help her?  I will think about it some more, but I don't think I need the carving any more.  I can just smile at the mirror and see Mama smiling back.

One more thing for me to think about is the memorial webpage that honors my late husband.  Every year I am asked to pay a fee to renew that webpage.  Every year I think about letting it go and decide that I can't do it.  I have a link to his memorial site on the address-bar-thingie of my web browser.  I often glance at his name there and am comforted by his presence.  Now and then I click the link and visit the site.  Nothing has changed in all these years, but sometimes I just feel the need to visit.  I did that a few weeks ago, rereading the statement that I had written for the site.  I was actually surprised to realize that I was reading about an Ethical man.  Of course he was!  Even though we had never heard of Ethical Culture before, I should have realized that he was exactly the kind of person that we are all striving to be in EC.  Not that I'm saying he was perfect, but he certainly practiced the compassionate service that we often attempt in EC.  It pleased me to read that statement and come to that realization.

Imagine my shock, checking the site a few days ago, to find it gone.  The tenth anniversary of his passing is coming up in November.  I expected to be asked to renew the site, and I was thinking that, while it serves no one else, it comforts me.  I clicked the link, thinking that I would renew early, just in case my travel plans might make me miss a deadline.  The link, instead of taking me to his crinkly smile, goes to a search page for obituaries.  I was devastated.  Panicked.  

Eventually, I found him again.  Legacy.com has restructured their website.  They apparently did try to notify me with a message that went to the Promotions folder (which I mostly ignore).  The information is still available--after much clicking--but it is broken up into multiple parcels rather than all together.  Will I be forced to let go of this comfort?  The link is still on my address bar with the other important bookmarks--it just doesn't take me to my husband.  

I guess we don't have eternal life on the internet either.