(Image: Woodcut of a Grapevine by Wouter Ten Broek.)
It's the first day of fall - Happy Autumn Equinox!
Although the leaves might still be green, we in the northern hemisphere can feel the change in the air. There is a comfortable breeze to break the sun's heat, sunflowers have turned brown and bent over to spill their seeds, and mums are for sale wherever plants are sold.
I am pleased to be in rural Kentucky this time of the year. Rolling hills are out all my windows. I jog in the cool mornings with the five adorable dogs who live here. I hadn't planned to be at Artcroft (an artist residency in Carlisle, KY) in September because of the weather; that was just a happy coincidence. Alas, I'll have to return to Philly before the leaves turn their many spectacular colors.
I was fortunate enough to be here for a fundraiser yesterday, hosted by Artcroft and to benefit Kentuckians for the Commonwealth in their mission to stop Big Coal from ruining the Appalachian mountains and communities with mountain top removal. In some counties, coal mining has devastated over 25% of the land, resulting in a total transformation of the environment that the locals depend on, including poisoning water supplies, killing indigenous wildlife, and making the area generally just ugly and barren (which obviously would lower property values and, more importantly, hurt peoples' quality of life.) Kentuckians for the Commonwealth took a group of Kentucky writers on a tour of the coal mining in Kentucky, including a plane ride so they could witness how widespread the devastation is from the air. The writers were deeply disturbed by what they saw, so yesterday many of them showed up to share letters, poems, essays, and songs about the injustice of mountain top removal.
As I listened to these activists, writers, and musicians, and looked around at the audience of all ages and attire, I knew that this was a real community. These people weren't united by one or two ideas. They were united by tangible concerns about their land, and a deep-rooted drive to preserve their particular ways of life here in rural Kentucky.
What I witnessed moved me, and it is the sort of community I long for with Humanism. There are some full and genuine Humanist (and other freethinking) communities, who develop a particular local flavor and issues, who meet several times a month for social, service, and educational events, and include a healthy proportion of children, young people, and women, but these are rare.
Most Humanist and other freethinking groups are basically a monthly lecture series, or social club united by the single and general issue of opposing the religious right. And of course there's nothing wrong with such organizations. But since they are not fully fleshed-out communities, they cannot serve the needs of those who desire such a thing, and those people will continue feeling longing and isolated, or joining religious congregations for the secular values and fellowship that most religions include with their faith. Especially parents with young children.
As the Coordinator of PhillyCor (Greater Philadelphia Coalition of Reason), which unites four local nontheistic organizations, I recently started a Secular Service Club. When I scheduled the first workday at a local food bank, I admit I was a little worried about the turnout. Nontheist clubs aren't exactly known for our community service efforts. But to my surprise, not only did we get plenty of volunteers, most of them were women I'd never met before. Several of these were people who had been lurking on the outskirts of communication with our nontheist local clubs, but hadn't yet got involved because they weren't into lectures and sitting around in a restaurant bitching about Pat Robertson. They wanted to do something.
Our groups in Philly continue to grow and strengthen our ties to each other and the national freethought movement, and so we resemble a real community more and more all the time. This December we're putting up a Tree of Knowledge display near the Constitution Center in Philly, and we'll throw what will probably be our largest HumanLight/Winter Solstice party ever, featuring the musician George Hrab (who also played at James Randi's Amaz!ng Adventure in the Galapagos Island this year), and storyteller Bill Wood.
When people have real community, they feel emotionally engaged and secure in a network of friends and acquaintances who will support them in times of need. That help can come in so many different forms: a small circle of people who will listen to your problems and offer sound advice or encouragement; people who send you get well cards or meals when you are ill; people who stand as a diverse array of positive role models for your children and grandchildren; and so on. The Humanist community I used to belong to took care of a member who had no immediate family in the area and who was dying of cancer. For some people, the community becomes their only family. On the flip side, most of us find deep gratification in helping others. Doing good works takes us outside of ourselves (in a consumer culture that presses us to be obsessed with self), and suddenly our own problems seem smaller and more manageable.
Community cannot be built on a contrived foundation. Don't get me wrong - people do have to work on intentionally building a community. But it still has to happen in an organic fashion that feels genuine to everyone who ends up involved. Obviously communities come in all different shapes and sizes. But so long as we maintain our values of critical thinking and secular ethics, while integrating creativity and emotional engagement, and perhaps most importantly: don't become too insular (it leads to group think and a rigid ideology!), nontheist communities have the potential to fully replace and vastly improve on many faith-based congregations.
So, back to celebrating autumn. At the fund raiser yesterday, all sorts of wonderful, locally grown and organic food was served. Most was provided by Jennifer Gleason of Sunflower Sundries. She makes soaps, jams, mustards, and other wonderful products right out of her home (and you can buy online, so check it out.) I bought some spicy, pickled asparagus and okra - how awesome is that!? I also feasted on pinto bean and vegetable stew, fresh greens salad, and out-of-this-world cornbread.
In honor of autumn, I now offer my own recipe for a delicious stew made with seasonal crops (seasonal in at least my part of the globe) and which is the colors of autumn leaves:
Marf's Autumn Stew:
2 T olive oil
3 T butter
2 large parsnips, peeled and chopped
2 large carrots, peeled and chopped
2 large celery root, thinly sliced
1 small butternut squash, cut in half with seeds taken out
1 large yellow onion, chopped
1 can white beans
1/2 t each of ground cinnamon, cumin, patrika, and thyme
pinch cayenne
1 T each brown sugar, honey, ground ginger
4 cloves garlic, minced or crushed
4 c vegetable stock
3 T raisins
1/2 cup chopped cilantro
A couple squirts of lemon juice or the juice of one lemon
1.) Bake the butternut squash in the oven at 350 degrees for an hour.
2.) Roast the carrots and parsnips at 400 degrees for half an hour
3.) Saute the onions and garlic in some broth or if you like, a little olive oil or butter.
4.) Put all of the ingredients in a pot on the stove and simmer for half an hour before eating.
Salt and pepper to taste.
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