...hopefully of many.
1. Salt Lake City is only 30% Mormon, a much lower percentage than the rest of Utah. I only live 3 blocks from Temple Square, but I don't have any sense of being a 'religious minority' at all. We'll see, I suppose, if that changes.
2. SLC is, of course, the state capitol of Utah. This in itself is relatively uninteresting, but the civic engagement here is pretty unique. The League of Women Voters is pretty freaking amazing. They take a good chunk of the local news time on the NPR station every morning to report in depth on what legislation is on the floor each day, and how votes turned out the previous day. They have an award-winning legislative website, and lots of people around seem to have a good sense of what's going on day-to-day on Utah's Capitol Hill. The LDS lobby is, of course, immense (we all saw that during the prop 8 battle), but there's a Coalition of Religious Communities (CORC) that advocates for progressive policies, and does a pretty great job of it. I'm looking forward to working with them on a couple of direct actions next week.
3. The mountains here are bigger than I could have imagined. They still surprise me every time I get a peek at them through the buildings or as I step outside. Nothing about living in Appalachia could have prepared me for the large-ness of the West.
4. Most of the energy in Utah comes from coal-fired power plants. But the concerns with the energy provider in town (Energy Solutions) don't have as much to do with that as they do with the desire to house nuclear waste in the nearby mountains. And we're not talking about nuclear waste from neighboring states, or even the US. I mean nuclear waste from Italy. The coal-fired power plants don't threaten the mountains here with mountaintop removal like they do in Appalachia. I'm no geologist, but I'd guess that's because the mountains here aren't old enough to be chock-full of coal like the ones out East. No, what threatens the mountains here are the threat of storing nuclear waste in them, and the open pit copper mine that has overtaken much of the East slope of the Ochres that faces the city. The land is largely privately-owned... it seems odd to me that someone can own a mountain. Though I suppose it's no more odd than "owning" any other piece of land.
5. There are TONS of independent coffee shops in Salt Lake. I'm pretty stoked about that. One of them is two doors down from where I live, and I'm enjoying the free internet access. There's also a pretty large vegetarian community, eco-friendly community, and general progressive community. I'm hoping to get plugged into some of that.
6. There's a pretty large immigrant community here as well. And immigration isn't particularly latino, as you might expect in the west. There are Tongans, Samoans, and Pakistanis who all have significant numbers here. I have asked several people why this is - and have come up with two main guesses: 1) SLC is probably a pretty good relocation site for refugees and asylees, and 2) A lot of immigration here has to do with returning LDS missionaries. Go figure. There are lots of immigrants at the local UMC near me, so I am hoping to learn some of their stories (I've already been offered a lesson in curry-making!!).
7. All the bars here are private clubs to which you have to buy a membership and register before you can drink. You know, it really works as a disincentive to drink... I have no desire to buy a membership to a bunch of different bars. But alcohol is more readily available than I thought - There is a wine shop not too far from my house, and the coffee shop has buck-fifty beer night on Thursdays.
That's all for tonight. Tomorrow I'm going to Park City with Julie (the woman I stayed with when I first got here) and her 11-year old daughter Sammy. Then next week I get to work with Crossroads Urban Center while Brian is in Louisiana.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Lenten Discipline
I learned long ago that giving up chocolate for Lent was not going to be a thing that suited me. I would spend my days longing for the stuff, eventually give in, then spend the next several weeks feeling guilty about not being able to keep my commitment - as though it was God's primary concern that I could abstain from sweets for a mere month-and-some. Frankly, I probably disappointed God more with my childish responses to having to refuse a piece of cake than with my eventual cave to a Snicker's bar.
So instead of replacing one bad habit with another, my mother and I decided a few years ago to pick up a discipline together. We were working together at the time, and we worked with some pretty difficult people. Some were going through difficult transitions in their lives and took their anger out on the rest of us, one felt threatened about her job, one just seemed to prefer to be angry. And a few of us had gotten in the bad habit of gossiping and complaining about work. That year, my mom and I decided to be intentional about speaking kindly about our co-workers. ALL of our co-workers. It was difficult at first. At first I just neglected to talk about work at all. But after awhile, I made myself learn more about my co-workers than the boxes I had placed them in. I learned what they liked to do in their free time, what they were passionate about, how they had been hurt or made glad by partners and friends. And after Lent was through... Mom and I still became frustrated with some of them. But instead of dwelling on those moments, we were able to move past them to common ground. We became happier, built relationships with our co-workers, and grew closer to one another as we shared the experience of this discipline with each other.
I've kept up this practice since then, choosing usually two disciplines to keep: one individual and one community-oriented. This year's discipline will (hopefully) be both. I've committed to writing and reflecting on a regular basis. I want to document my time in Salt Lake City, as well as prepare myself for what's ahead. I want to share my experience here with folks who have supported my getting here. And I want to do that in a way that's honest. I also want to get over the idea that everything I write has to be perfect, and move towards a place where I can process by writing. So I can't promise perfection, or even good writing. But I hope to be able to commit to regularity. And maybe an interesting thought now and again.
So instead of replacing one bad habit with another, my mother and I decided a few years ago to pick up a discipline together. We were working together at the time, and we worked with some pretty difficult people. Some were going through difficult transitions in their lives and took their anger out on the rest of us, one felt threatened about her job, one just seemed to prefer to be angry. And a few of us had gotten in the bad habit of gossiping and complaining about work. That year, my mom and I decided to be intentional about speaking kindly about our co-workers. ALL of our co-workers. It was difficult at first. At first I just neglected to talk about work at all. But after awhile, I made myself learn more about my co-workers than the boxes I had placed them in. I learned what they liked to do in their free time, what they were passionate about, how they had been hurt or made glad by partners and friends. And after Lent was through... Mom and I still became frustrated with some of them. But instead of dwelling on those moments, we were able to move past them to common ground. We became happier, built relationships with our co-workers, and grew closer to one another as we shared the experience of this discipline with each other.
I've kept up this practice since then, choosing usually two disciplines to keep: one individual and one community-oriented. This year's discipline will (hopefully) be both. I've committed to writing and reflecting on a regular basis. I want to document my time in Salt Lake City, as well as prepare myself for what's ahead. I want to share my experience here with folks who have supported my getting here. And I want to do that in a way that's honest. I also want to get over the idea that everything I write has to be perfect, and move towards a place where I can process by writing. So I can't promise perfection, or even good writing. But I hope to be able to commit to regularity. And maybe an interesting thought now and again.
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