TIME SLIPS AWAY

Over a year ago I began planning a cycling event where I would ride my bike from Albuquerque to Baltimore to raise funds for and awareness of programs to help those released from prisons live successful lives.

In 2016, I spent the first few months training, then tending to a loved one's illness and then finally heading out on April 2nd.  I arrived in Baltimore on June 1st and if anyone wishes to read details about the journey, here's a link to that blog, one that I write separately in order to specifically focus on social justice issues.

http://lindsaywaitewordpresscom.wordpress.com

I actually put just about 1400 miles on the bike on the trip, raised a bit over $4000 that was divided among 4 nonprofits that have good reentry programs, and proved to myself I could do it (despite at times bad roads, bad weather, the occasional chasing dog, an injury, and more bridges than I ever expected-we need major work on infrastructure in this country).  

Getting back into my daily routine was tough since I left so many of my personal projects on hold while I traveled.  

Photography takes a lot of time in and of itself, so I had to "catch up," if you will, with my work at the Albuquerque Photographers' Gallery,  adding some new imagery to freshen up my display.

My work with two prison ministries was also awaiting me upon return.  In one, we spent the fall reading and discussing Bryan Stephenson's "Just Mercy," his perspective on death row inmates, the difficulty of getting the innocent released (one out of nine), and the horrors of the lives of those facing this sentence.  We also got to hear a speaker tell his story at UNM - he had been wrongfully convicted of a murder and was on death row, much of it in solitary, for decades.

The other ministry with which I am involved spent two days recently in Las Cruces at a men's facility where we unite family members and especially the children with the inmates in a day of joy, thanks, music, craft-making and sharing.

There were high hopes that mass incarceration and the collateral damage to our society would finally be addressed since it was a topic of discussion among several politicians.  Bernie seemed to address it most honestly but a number of others pledged to deal with this issue.   Until we effectively handle the racial and class disparities regarding incarceration - and offer positive programming and social supports both in and out of prisons - we are failing as a society.  I'm not sure how this will end now that election results are in. I do not have high hopes.

I have been working on a number of writing projects, keeping in touch with family who have had to face health difficulties, and working with someone for whom I am a mentor of sorts to help him get his life on a good track, which it is.   

I'll try to keep this blog more active now that the gargantuan amount of work needed for last year's event has concluded.

I'll end with quotes by renowned writers:  

Dostoevsky: “The degree of civilization in a society can be judged by entering its prisons.” 

Nelson Mandela:  "“It is said that no one truly knows a nation until one has been inside its jails. A nation should not be judged by how it treats its highest citizens, but its lowest ones.” 

As I get closer to my 3400 mile cycling (with perhaps a short train ride) fundraising trip from Albuquerque to Baltimore via Florida, I'm starting to get nervous.  Riding through dozens of uninhabited miles - at times on roads with simply shoulders - is scary. What am I thinking?

The goal of starting my own nonprofit to focus on re-entry of people from prison to society was an initial goal.  I had practiced law for 27 years (the last 5 as an assistant public defender). I continued  in the legal field for 7 more years (research, mediations).  Moving to Albuquerque, I was fortunate to find a job with a start-up nonprofit that focused on reading and graduation.  I met many wonderful people in Albuquerque working on the same issues.  I learned how hard it is to start your own nonprofit.  I also learned about people, nonprofits and community organizations throughout this country that already have fantastic programs to assist with re-entry.

Hope.  Promise.  Reduction of recidivism, homelessness and the crime rate.  More productive citizens.  Fewer crime victims.

Thus, New Beginnings Work is born.

Thanks to my sister Kathleen for helping with the design and planning.

Wings for Life, Crossroads for Women (both in Albuquerque), Goodwill Industries of the Chesapeake and Volunteers of America Chesapeake (both in Baltimore) all offer excellent programs and services for those working to put prison life behind them.    These are the organizations for which I am raising money.

A car accident (where I collided with a person who ran a red light) put my training on hold and I still have lingering neck, shoulder and back issues but I'm moving toward healing.

I'm hopeful I can begin on March 5th!  More to come.  Peace out.

My screenplay "Homestead" builds momentum with Best Period Screenplay award at recent New Hope Film Festival.

"Homestead" is the story of two families. James witnesses his coal miner father dying after a severe beating by anti-union thugs. Bitter, the boy runs away and starts a new life. As a steelworker, he has his own battles with Pinkertons and scabs, who are under orders: destroy the union. A fiery battle leaves countless injured and dead but James learns there is more than revenge. Recently, this screenplay was selected as Best Period Screenplay at the New Hope Film Festival! And, thanks, ReelHeART for the live read and award last year!

When I confront prejudice, I ask people to imagine themselves as a person of color for one day.  Visualize that life.  Of course, I've not experienced being black firsthand, but I'm observant enough to notice side glances, frowns, curiosity and yes - even fear - when I'm with a young man who has become sort of a nephew to me.  He enters a restaurant first. I'm taking some photos outdoors and enter maybe a minute later.  As I approach the restaurant check-in, there are looks in his direction by other customers and staff.  Implication? Why are you here?  I go over to him and the obsequiousness begins.  Later we're walking in a place filled with tourists.  Always the shutterbug, I'm pausing to snap, then scurry to catch up. Slight movements away from him, some suspicious glances, and subtle rudeness surround him.  Not me.  That is white privilege and I am viscerally aware of it.   Imagine that your life is like that. Profoundly unfair and damaging?  Yes.

All Quiet On The Western Front

This is a classic in literature that I had never read. It was now time. Remarque served in World War I. His novel is a graphic recounting of the damage of war, first approached by young men who believe (at that time) in their mission. Friendships develop, and life seems good. Battles are described in precise detail, and gradually the horror is overwhelming. First published in Germany in 1928, certain passages show that Remarque foresees World War II. I'm not going to say any more other than to recommend this first-person narration to anyone who is looking for a true-to-life recounting of war. But I will include a lengthy quote of this gifted author that captures the essence of this tale. "I am young, I am twenty years old; yet I know nothing of life but despair, death, fear, and fatuous superficiality cast over an abyss of sorrow. I see how peoples are set against one another, and in silence, unknowingly, foolishly, obediently, innocently slay one another. I see that the keenest brains of the world invent weapons and words to make it yet more refined and enduring. And all men of my age, here and over there, throughout the whole world see these things; all my generation is experiencing these things with me. What would our fathers do if we suddenly stood up and came before them and proffered our account? What do they expect of us if a time ever comes when the war is over? Through the years our business has been killing; - it was our first calling in life. Our knowledge of life is limited to death. What will happen afterwards? And what shall come out of us?" pages 263-264 of this edition.

After watching "Wal-Mart: The High Cost of Low Price" - Hell no - they're not getting any more of my dollars.

Documentary: "Wal-Mart: The High Cost of Low Price"

July 17, 2014
Shopping at Walmart offers convenience, low prices, and a lot of variety. I finally succumbed after years of resistance to occasionally shopping at Walmart. After all, they were touting that they had local produce, some organic. And their employment policies did not automatically exclude people with criminal records, pretty progressive in the USA. Walmart's spin of stories on discriminatory employment practices was covered by the media, suggesting these were rarities. Money talks and advertising pays big, I guess. 

No more shopping there for me. My eyes have been completely opened after watching "Wal-Mart: The High Cost of Low Price." (2005) Filmmaker and Director Robert Greenwald contrasts Walmart's "message" with the truth, and it is appalling to see the big picture.

The film opens with President and CEO (at the time) Lee Scott giving pie-in-the-sky speeches at an annual meeting attended by both Walmart workers and the uppity-ups. He brags of record sales and earnings. The crowd cheers. Lee says they are "doing the right thing and doing things right every time."

Why then, is the Hunter family's small business - a hardware store in Middlefield, Ohio that lasted generations - now dust in the wind? Can Walmart justify the closing of small town businesses after it appears, decimating downtowns?  

Why does Walmart received tax-funded subsidies to add their big box stores? School teachers and fire fighters show that their budgets are cut when Walmart gets public money and publicly-funded infrastructure (roads, streetlights, sanitation, and so on). 

Why are employees encouraged by Walmart's own personnel departments (as a matter of corporate policy) to apply for Medicaid, food stamps, and public assistance? Answer: because their annual wages at the time of the documentary were in the $13,000 range. There are stories of (and lawsuits on behalf of) employees forced to clock out but to continue working so that overtime wouldn't have to be paid.

This refreshing documentary tells the stories of real people, not "experts." Josh Noble, at one time thrilled with his job, becomes a union organizer after enduring less than ideal working conditions and only a $1.07 hourly raise after his 3rd year of loyal service. Edith Arana describes the lack of affordable health insurance and the point-blank statement to her that her race and sex were preventing her from being promoted.

Small business owners talk about how the intrusion of Walmart led to the decline and closing of their businesses. Chinese workers discuss their exploitation and being forced to lie about their hours. A Walmart manager is dismayed when his attempts to improve the conditions for Honduran workers are completely disregarded. Customers who were crime victims due to the lack of security outside the stores get treated shabbily. People who are trying to fight Walmart's efforts to build in their neighborhoods have David-versus-Goliath stories to tell.

This film will give you pause next time you pass - or enter - Walmart. Forget the ads showing Walmart as a responsible and caring presence in a community. Think about the billionaires it has created while treating and paying employees poorly, ensuring that a number of them must draw public benefits to support their families.

Wonder about why employees contribute annually millions of their own hard-earned dollars to an emergency fund for other Walmart employees caught up in disasters (tornados, floods, and such) while the billionaire Waltons contribute just a few thousand dollars to this same fund?

These stories of workers, many of whom had been loyal employees, are heart-breaking. The destruction of small businesses likewise is truly disturbing. Walmart's surreptitious efforts to resist unionization, spending fortunes rather than paying living wages, is despicable.

Some appalling statistics are interspersed between the interviews, but the film ends surprisingly on a note of optimism. This inside look at one of the largest and wealthiest corporations should not be missed. 

I took an 8 week road trip in the summer of 2011 to de-stress from a difficult job in the world of law and state government - and as the beginning of ACT III of my life.  The vast beauty of the country laying out before me, accompanied by music, talk radio, audio books or silence, was a perfect way to start anew. The plan was to stay off interstates as much as possible and stay in towns off the beaten track, to be in the moment. On the one hand, a long road trip empties one of the past and the future, but on the other hand recalls history.
                                                    ****
I began in Las Vegas, Nevada - headed up to Portland, Oregon - then meandered east all the way to Ocean City Maryland.  Next: through the south to North Carolina, Georgia, Mississippi, then a few days in Texas, New Mexico and back to Nevada.

I enjoy the anonymity of travel. One is an observer and not valued (or devalued) based on one's career, family, income level, origin, or connections.  Adrift on the road and on walkabouts, one experiences the humanness of existence. One is a part of this vast grouping of land and people, buildings and industry, farms and mountains, and roads and water, all of which are connected. Who and what we are, and what we have become, and the "baggage" we carry seems less important and lighter. That is freeing.

I visited many places in this country to which I will not return. Life will go on there, though I have seen the near death of a number of small towns that were thriving in the past. I could imagine their pasts and their futures. The small towns stand out along with the vast amount of undeveloped land in this country.

It is calming to be on the road alone (except in the beehive traffic areas). The crazy divisiveness of politics and prejudice becomes just a gentle hum. Nature prevails. On occasion, time slows down, particularly when the landscape is repetitive, only broken by the occasional billboard.

In flat places like western South Dakota and eastern Texas, I would see a shape that broke up the flatness in the distance and keep my eye on it until it formed into a silo or barn. In other moments, time flew, particularly as darkness descended and my fear of driving in the dark reared up. Road trips are a way of time traveling. The land evokes the days when Native Americans were the dominant people, when industries rose and fell, when forests covered much more of the country, and when the civil rights movement was in its infancy.

The last few weeks of the trip flew by more quickly than the first few. Montana, South Dakota and Nebraska seemed to be leisurely and refreshing drives. As the trip ended, obligations and chores came back to my mind. Today, this trip is almost like a dream. By writing about it and looking at my photos, I experience it tangentially. Already, it seems long ago. 

 Want to read more?  Email me at lindsayw739@gmail.com