Indianapolis Peace Institute

Peacebuilding

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 10 Apr 2009 21:28:00 +0000

Campus Liaison Jonathan Jenner (Earlham College), contributed this week’s post.

When I was little I recall my parents using the word peacebuilder, before I understood that it was a compound word. I feel that there’s something innocently illuminating about that; peacebuilder not as the mechanical and technical (peace) + (person who builds) but one word, as arbitrary as any other, signifying a series of folks who were really nice to me.

Hezkias lived upstairs and is a peacebuilder. He did magic tricks for all the kids and brought us chocolate when he came back from trips. Emmanuel, also a peacebuilder, played basketball with me. Tammy told me about her husky. More recently, Robb showed me how to cook bread. Of course all these stories involve personal interactions, and peacebuilding is much more than a series of fond interactions.

However my former grasp of what a peacebuilder is does pick away at the notion that peacebuilding is a set of skills, and this is the rather illuminating part. In my mind, and useful to think about, peacebuilding was more of a way of being. Not a passive you-do-this-I-do-that way of being, but a way of being that actively considers particularly how to be with others. This requires not a handbook but a series of ways of knowing/understanding/accessing a situation (what do kids like to do? what can I offer Jon? how can I be content in this situation?). And one way of understanding a situation may very well be a technical one. But peacebuilding, I suppose, involves the delicate walk of using, listening to, and advocating for certain ways of knowing/understanding/accessing a certain situation.

Imaginably, peacebuilders face more difficult scenarios in their line of ‘work’ than in the examples of my younger days, so the metaphor shouldn’t be expanded beyond its use. But to understand peacebuilding as an art, the skilled craft of being with people, was a great thing my parents passed to me as a youngster. It even takes peacebuilding from the concept of ‘work’ that the term sometimes connotes and more a way to be in, and know, the world.

Pervasive Struggle, Persistent Hope

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 06 Mar 2009 15:34:00 +0000

Third in our series of essays from seminar participants, Notre Dame student Jamie Schulte contributed this week’s post.

His feet cannot reach the floor. Legs dangling, mother sitting silently beside him, judge reading out the charges before him. He is charged with battery of a school administrator. It is not his first time in this courtroom. In honesty, I cannot remember what the judge decided in this preliminary hearing, but this image of a little boy in a big situation has stuck with me. While I could hear the story of what he allegedly did, it was almost impossible for me to imagine this little ten-year-old, looking so small in a big wooden chair before an oversized desk, was capable of attacking a grown-up. I have heard the statistics, I know it happens. But there was something about seeing this child that made it so much more real to me. This real, personal side of youth violence and American society is the most influential thing I got out of this seminar. In turn, this first-hand knowledge has deepened and altered my understanding of youth violence and all that in entails in a number of ways.

In a basic way, this course has made me rethink what I consider “violence.” As a Take Ten volunteer over the past several years, I have come to understand that violence is more than punching and hitting; we are constantly reminding our students that reciting the Take Ten motto, then turning around and gossiping about some “loser” in the front of the room is contradictory behavior. But I rarely really think about that all this term encompasses. The World Health Organization defines violence as “The intentional use of physical force or power, threatened or actual, against oneself, another person, or against a group or community, that either results in or has a high likelihood of resulting in injury, death, psychological harm, maldevelopment or deprivation” (World Report on Violence and Health). This comprehensive definition includes structural violence, in which societal structures discriminate against certain groups in the population, and cultural violence, in which a culture is forced upon someone of another culture, in addition to personal violence, like hitting or name calling. As we discussed in class, I think this definition is pretty complete and does capture many elements of violence- like discrimination in the workforce- that are not usually recognized in this way.

However, the ramifications of this definition were made far clearer by our experiences in Indianapolis. This was most evident to me in the things we learned and saw about children’s environments. Hearing about the dangers of lead poisoning (particularly upsetting as it is so preventable yet relatively prevalent), learning the long-lasting effects of brownstones, and witnessing some children’s living condition via our in-car tours with the Department of Health made me better understand the violence of environmental injustice. This injustice is not just “unfair” or disturbing on an abstract level, but violence against many in our society who do not have the proper resources to really do much about it.

I also witnessed and felt hope throughout our week. Walking amidst the kids at Christamore House, we could feel the power of community and love. Listening to the kids so benefited by the OK Program, we could see the power of positive role models and the knowledge that someone is on your side, someone cares about you and your success. I heard these kids and I believed that we can change things. I believed that we can make a difference. It sounds cliché (and was potentially an overused mantra given our excitement over Obama), but hope can do so much. Having been suggested to consider the role of hope and hopelessness before we went on the seminar, it was a theme at the back of my mind throughout the week and one that I remind myself of whenever I look at my “Everything is OK” wristband. Hope can be a powerful thing and children, while not as fully resilient as our one reading suggested some have considered them to be, can overcome challenges. It takes care, it takes love, but it is possible.

I believed this message all along, but seeing it in reality was a really important part of the trip for me when presented with so many hard issues and images. The work done by Outreach, done at Christamore, done by the officers in the OK program is not always easy, but it is so crucial. I am not positive what I want to do after graduation, but I know that it will involve service in some form. The people we met were really inspiring to me and given me a lot to think about as I ponder my next steps. Violence in our society is an issue we cannot avoid and one that each one of has a duty to work against in our own way. By providing me with real people and first-hand experiences, the Lives in the Balance seminar helped me more fully understand this violence and the ways that we can overcome it. I may not have been able to prevent the little boy we saw in juvenile court from reaching the situation he was in, but I can help other little boys and girls- the kids I see in Take Ten, the children I work with at the Center for the Homeless, the many young people I have yet to meet- from ending up there too. The problems we face are pervasive, but hope is persistent.

Works Cited
World Report on Violence and Health by the World Health Organization 2002, Abstract and Fact Sheet.

What is violence?

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 27 Feb 2009 16:41:00 +0000

This is the third in our series of essays from the “Youth, Violence and Society” Seminary, and was authored by Notre Dame student Megan Sweitzer.

The structural aspects of violence, social structures or institutions depriving people the ability to meet their basic needs, is something that most people overlook when they think of violence. Unlike direct, physical violence, the effects of maldevelopment and deprivation are not as apparent and quantifiable. Also, because these aspects of violence are unseen or disregarded by many common definitions of violence, they can be regarded as more insignificant or trivial. However, structural violence not only contributes to and produces other conflict and direct violence, but it can have the same destructive effect on people. Learning this all-encompassing definition of violence has better demonstrated the broad nature and complete effects of violence throughout society.

The lack of preventative programs and lack of funds being spent to prevent violence made me wonder about people’s and society’s priorities. More than one of the organizations that we met with made a comment along the lines of, “well, people don’t want to pay taxes, so things don’t get fixed.” If citizens knew their money was being spent in a productive way and not wasted, would they be more willing to embrace the idea of taxing? Or do people really not want to spend their “hard-earned” money to fix other people’s problems? If people knew these conditions constituted a form of violence, would they be more willing? Society condemns physical violence in almost all cases, but structural violence is too often thought of as a condition people bring upon themselves. So instead of investing in these issues and trying to change things, it reacts after the damage has been done. We do not prevent the things that make people “burden the system,” but we complain when we have to deal with people who do rely on it.

I believe that the most important thing I gained from this seminar was a new, broad definition of what actually constitutes violence. It introduced me to an entirely new perspective on violence, changing my outlook on the causes, effects, and consequences of it. Violence is an extremely complex issue and it is has an extensive reach throughout individual lives, communities, and society. Before this seminar, I thought the question was: how do you teach people to not be violent? And if that were answered, you could bring an end to violence. However, I now realize that the solution does not simply lie in changing people’s individual tendencies toward violence; it also demands improvements in the violence communities and progress toward eliminating violent environments. It lies in teaching people about the causes of violence, making them aware of the effects, and making them care about reaching toward the solutions.

Shedding a cocoon of ignorance.

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 20 Feb 2009 16:53:00 +0000

This is the second in our series of essays from the “Youth, Violence and Society” Seminary, and was authored by Notre Dame student Elizabeth Nye.

It is true, what some people say about ignorance: that it is bliss. In ignorance, people carry on with their daily lives without looking beyond what they were trained to see. In ignorance, people participate in activities for self-enjoyment and entertainment. Ignorance encases people, insulating them from the harsher realities faced by those for whom ignorance is not a possibility, much less a reality. And unmistakably, for many people ignorance is reality. What, then, might people feel when awareness cuts through their cocoon of ignorance, exposing their true surroundings? Shock? Denial? Frustration? Confusion? Anger? Sadness? Guilt? Despair? Motivation? Hope? The emotional experience, though different for each individual, will undoubtedly be as complex as the factors at play in reality. The Youth, Violence, and Society seminar evoked a range of emotions in me as it chipped off chunks of ignorance from my worldview. Although I thoroughly enjoyed the readings and class discussions, I have no delusions that it was anything but the week-long stay in Indianapolis that most opened my eyes and my heart.

Admittedly, I felt frustrated often while in Indianapolis. The problems of urban poverty and youth violence are incredibly multifaceted. Many of the topics we covered, were not unfamiliar to me, although much was wanting in my understanding of the finer details. My struggle stemmed not in agreeing or disagreeing with particular points-of-view rather in comprehending why certain issues were troublesome and controversial. A core reason of mine in applying for this seminar was to gain new perspectives and to hear different sides of mainstream arguments. I have since learned that part of approaching an issue from different perspectives relies on receiving answers to questions I did not even know enough about to ask.

For example, I had often heard the term “gentrification” used and was able to see this process in effect along Notre Dame Avenue. I even could converse about gentrification in general terms, without doing much but skimming the surface of the issue. However, I must be honest and admit that I did not understand why people thought it was a detrimental process. I never expressed these thoughts to anyone because although I understood enough to know that I was missing some crucial bit of information, I did not have the perspective to know what question I needed to ask to get an answer. My ride-along with Tammy from the Indianapolis Health Department opened my eyes to one of the deeper issues. In fact, in many ways my time with Tammy resulted in a domino effect that knocked many other pieces of the puzzle together in my mind.

Previously, I was under the impression that cleaning up the houses and neighborhoods could only help those people who were living in them since the property values would increase. I had not even considered that many of the residents were not owners, but were rather renters and that the gentrification process would raise their rent above a level they could afford to pay. This seems so basic of an idea, and I am slightly embarrassed that my epiphany of the week winds down to the fact that there are people who rent their homes. However, I needed to drive through the neighborhoods and visualize the stark contrasts while discussing the problem in order to truly comprehend the issue. I had not before had the exposure to people who rented their homes rather than owned them. As a result there was a disconnect in my mind, preventing me from thinking of this as a possibility even though I had attempted to take different angles.

Similarly, in reading the article by Thomas Neltner (2005) on the combined sewer overflows experienced in Indianapolis, I initially felt shocked. This shock was not the same kind I would feel upon hearing disastrous news. Instead, it was shock that I could not fathom a situation such as the sewage overflows occurring in any of the neighborhoods I am familiar with at home. The community outrage would be tremendous, and swift action to fix the faulty system would have occurred. I do not want to paint an unflattering self-portrait of myself as a completely naïve and sheltered young adult, but in a way, it is almost as if my world has been turned upside down. It is painful to realize that I could very easily have been one of those Carmel residents whose neighborhood development directly endangered the lives of others who were powerless to stop it. As sickening as it was for me to read about the children who would swim in the river or the adults who would fish in it, my stomach became most knotted in thinking about how I may have benefited in the past from development resulting in negative effects for others.

This focus of my concern may seem selfish—centered on myself and my own feelings rather than on the community members who lived with the sewage problems for years, but truly I do not mean it to be selfish. Neltner’s article discusses that it was not the residents who eventually filed a complaint, but rather Improving Kids’ Environment and the Hoosier Environmental Council. If the people who have the resources to call attention to systemic injustices such as the sewage overflows do not realize what is occurring (to the knowledge of many possessing the resources but lacking the conscience to do anything), how long will it continue? It is unnerving to contemplate the impact my own community might have had on the surrounding communities, knowing that whether it was negative or positive, I am clueless about it.

Previously, I had possessed an elementary understanding of the negative consequences lead paint and unsanitary living environments cause for people’s health. While I would argue that one of the key aspects to remember while reading the article on lead concentrations by Wright and colleagues (2008) is that association does not mean causation, the findings certainly act as indicators of a serious injustice against society’s most vulnerable members. The meeting with Improving Kids’ Environment introduced me to an additional perspective I had not truly considered: the possibility that some people would see a benefit in not testing their property for traces of lead. Once more, due to my inexperience, it was a challenge for me to anticipate multiple perspectives without first realizing that there were other sides of the picture yet to be revealed. It saddened me to learn that there were many people actively choosing ignorance on the matter of lead paint with such mindsets that if they do not know for sure that there is lead in the paint, then they do not have to put forth the capital to fix up the space or then they cannot be held accountable if a child becomes sick.

Again, it would appear that ignorance is bliss. Is it, though? Are they really not responsible for their inaction? Are we, as society, unaccountable in our complacency? I would argue that since they were not unaware of the danger posed by lead paint, that they could not claim ignorance of the matter. Instead of being ignorant, they were being neglectful, which I have observed to be just as damaging (if not more so) than actively perpetrating violence against others. Neglect sends the message that the victims are so lacking in value that they do not even warrant attention. So, for those who are not ignorant, or for those who are no longer ignorant of the problems at hand, what now?

The questions only continue for people who accept that they must take action to create positive change. Where to begin? What cause or causes to champion? How to approach the issue? Which issue is most prevalent? Urgent? Unjust? The decisions that people need to make are overwhelming, but not so tremendous as to provide an excuse for not following through in a commitment to enact change. Archbishop Oscar Romero addressed this dilemma when he said:

We cannot do everything
and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.
This enables us to do something,
and to do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way,
an opportunity for God’s grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results,
but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders,
ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own.

Difficult as it may be to work for an end that may never be realized in one lifetime, would it not be more difficult to live knowing that no progress is being made? As overwhelmed as I felt by the many directions I could take to begin alleviating urban poverty and youth violence, I continue to remind myself that each of the organizations focused on one specific area. Each person we met had a niche, and while they certainly acknowledged other facets involved in the situation, their focus remained on one main concept. By narrowing their interests they are best able to contribute the necessary energy and resources to alleviate the problem from that end. Tempted as I am to want to sit and theorize on how to address everything at once (never fear, I have no delusions that I should be attempting such a feat), I am plagued by a niggling self-doubt. A tiny egg of skepticism nestled inside me questions whether I have what it takes to make a difference or whether any difference I make will be substantial.

I am not entirely free from my cocoon of ignorance, but already I see more of the world than ever before. I am not yet adept at recognizing the numerous perspectives from which to view these complex issues, but I am ready to learn about them and compare their relative merits. I am not unaffected by the enormity or urgency of the problems facing urban youths living in poverty, but I am beginning to place more stock in my ability to make a difference.

Inherent Dignity

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 13 Feb 2009 16:02:00 +0000

We are happy to revive the Institute’s blog with a series of essays from students who participated in “Youth, Violence, and Society,” an alternative fall break experience developed in collaboration with the Center for Social Concerns at the University of Notre Dame. This week’s post comes from Katie Washington.

Because of my profound and deeply-rooted belief in the inherent dignity of human persons I feel that every person has a natural right to development in all facets and all stages of life (I will call this integral human development for the remainder of this paper). Children, arguably the most vulnerable individuals in American society, are often the least protected in terms of development. Without a voice, they are subjugated to the whims and desires of those closest to them, which often leads to violence in some form. For me, participation in the YVS seminar confirmed the importance of integral human development in the prevention of all forms of violence. Additionally, my week in Indianapolis helped me to see the ways in which different organizations can promote integral human development of children in different stages of life.

One way to think about integral human development is to think about development in different spheres of life – political, economic, social, and cultural, for example. Each of these spheres has some rights associated with it (a living wage may be considered an economic right). While I believe that each of these spheres is critical in upholding the inherent dignity of human persons, the American government gives primacy to the protection of political rights (i.e. our constitutional Bill of Rights). Thus, our society is shaped under the premise that when political rights are protected the rights associated with the other spheres (social, cultural and economic) will follow through the dynamics of the free market and the good intentions of our citizenry. Unfortunately, for the millions of American citizens who are unemployed, impoverished, without healthcare, discriminated against, etc., social, cultural and economic rights have not been direct consequences of the political rights that they are “guaranteed” as American citizens under the Constitution.

For me, maldevelopment or underdevelopment in any one of the spheres of life (and my list is not comprehensive) is a form a violence. For example, domestic and sexual abuse may be considered social/cultural violence. Additionally, since positive life outcomes are linked to quality education, the educational achievement gap between white and minority students could feasibly be considered a form of violence in all of the spheres. Since class started, I have tried to decide if my definition of violence fits World Health Organization’s (WHO) working definition of violence below:

the intentional use of physical force or power, threatened or actual, against oneself, another person, or against a group or community, that either results or has a high likelihood of resulting in injury, death, psychological harm, maldevelopment or deprivation (WHO 3).

My first inclination was that this definition is perfect—after all, my favorite word (development) is included. But after spending a week in Indianapolis with various organizations, I am not fully certain that this definition really encapsulates every situation that I would call violence. My difficulty with the definition above arises in assigning ambiguous terms (what exactly constitutes threatened or actual physical force/power) to the frank realities that victims and perpetrators of violence face. Although a working definition of violence provides language to discuss very difficult problems, 39 words could never begin to describe the many forms of violence in the various spheres of life.

Integral Human Development for Children in Various Stages of Life

People always wonder what it must have been life for me growing up in crime-ridden, poverty-stricken Gary, Indiana. Just like healthy children who were raised in “better neighborhoods”, my basic needs were met, and I was supported by family, friends, teachers, coaches, church members, etc. Looking back, I realize that even though my family and I did not have everything, there is very little more that I could have asked for. Somehow, for me, my parents and others instilled a delicate balance of values in me, and in doing so, they supported and nurtured my growth in all spheres of life.

Along these same lines, each of the organizations we visited sought to promote healthy development of youth in one or more spheres of life. In order to make a bit more sense of how integral human development pertains to the organizations we visited and their various approaches to violence, I divided the organizations into three different groups. The first of these three groups includes organizations involved with preventative measures that affect children, but may not directly involve them (I promise this will make sense later). The second group includes organizations that take a reactive stance to lapses in positive youth development. The third group—and my personal favorite—includes organizations focused on preventative measures directly involving youth. Of course, I realize that there are organizations that approach violence and development in multiple ways. However, my current goal is just to make a bit of sense out of a lot of information.

The first group of organizations handles issues that may or may not involve children, but when children are involved, they become even more critical. This includes Improving Kids Environment (IKE), the Brownfield Redevelopment Program (BRP), and the Marion County Health Department (MCHD). The strength of these types of programs is that most of the issues they address are very objective and measurable primarily involving the economic sphere. This was especially true for IKE and the BRP. When IKE dealt with the combined sewer overflow problem in the Fall Creek area, data collection allowed them to file a complete discrimination complaint to the EPA with the empirical evidence to support it (Neltner 434). Chris Harrell’s work with the BRP in the Martindale-Brightwood neighborhood was remarkable in combining solutions to several environmental issues and improving a community for many of its residents. In our reflection after these sessions, several people mentioned how encouraging it was to see organizations with such systematic solutions and results.

However, organizations focused on preventable issues like these are not without their obstacles. For example, when meeting with the MCHD, I felt a sense of detachment from the fundamentals of their work. To me, it appeared that the systematic part of the Housing and Neighborhood Health Initiative, with its paperwork, checklists, and deadlines, overshadowed and often overwhelmed the individuals for whom their work was so important. Additionally, because the problems these groups address are so preventable with tangible solutions and measurable results, the fact that the problems even exist seems like a greater instance of violence. When Janet McCabe discussed the number of children who have with lead poisoning, or when Chris Harrell discussed the amount of illegal dumping in the Martindale-Brightwood neighborhood, it showed how we, as a society, are failing to protect our youth from violence in the simplest ways.

The second group of organizations is reactive to serious lapses in positive youth development. This includes Outreach, Inc., Aftercare for Indiana through Mentoring (AIM), Neighborhood Christian Legal Clinic (NCLC), Child Protective Services (CPS), and the Juvenile Detention Centers and Courts (JDCC). Although each of these organizations deals with somewhat different issues, all of these organizations attempt to help youth who have been deprived of healthy development in one our more spheres of life. Outreach, CPS and NCLC serve youth who have been direct victims of violence. When I first learned about these organizations, I thought of there work in context of the social sphere (for example domestic and sexual abuse). However, in our discussions with these organizations, we found profound economic and cultural issues as well. For me, the fact that violence in one sphere often causes or accompanies violence in another underscores the importance of promoting development in all spheres.

For me, AIM and JDCC are particularly interesting organizations because they deal with youth who are accused of infringing upon the development of others. Although I believe that such behavior should be appropriately addressed, mere punishment is not enough. Thus, I appreciate that the goal of the juvenile justice system is to “rehabilitate [youth] by taking a moralistic approach and trying to help them learn community values” (Arbetman 169). Additionally, I commend AIM for attempting to address reentry from incarceration to home communities in terms of reparative justice, relationships and responsibility—the three “R’s of reentry (Lehman, 1). However, our visits made me realize how difficult it can be to untangle a complicated web of violence with limited resources and support. A child rarely (if ever) commits an act of violence in one sphere without having being a victim of violence in some form, and the best solutions are rarely the simplest.

The last group of organizations seeks to prevent violence in the various spheres of life through different means. In this group, I include the Christamore House Teen Opportunity Program (TOP), John Marshall Community High School (JMCHS), the OK Program, Peace Learning Center (PLC), Dr. Matt Aalsma, and the East Tenth United Methodist Children and Youth Center, Inc (East Tenth). Many of these organizations sought to help youth who had already been victims or perpetrators of violence in one or more spheres. However, in my opinion, their most important collective focus is violence prevention. Through his research, Dr. Aalsma addressed psychological and neurobiological issues that could hinder development in all spheres. Additionally, each of the other organizations had tangible strategies to prevent violence by being directly involved with youth from the community. So, why was this group my favorite? Each of these organizations showed that a few simple actions—providing a safe environment, encouraging youth to reach for their dreams, etc.—before youth become victims or perpetrators of violence can promote positive, healthy development in multiple spheres. For me, this is a welcomed alternative to trying to pick up the pieces after an act (or acts) of violence has been committed.

I could fill many more pages with the things that I learned on this seminar. My time spent in Indianapolis confirmed the importance of integral human development and now, I am even more convinced that maldevelopment in any sphere of life is a form of violence. Because the youth in our society lack a voice of their own, it is critical that we protect and promote their right to development in all spheres. Although I doubt that there is a such thing as perfect development or an end goal to integral human development, this seminar confirmed that active efforts, self-responsibility, and genuine concern for others can go a long way.

Works Cited
Arbetman, Lee. Street Law: A Course in Practical Law, 5th ed.: NY: West Pub. Co. 1994.
Pages: 169-182.
Lehman, Joseph. The Three "R's" of Reentry Justice Solutions (www.aapa-net.org). Dec. 6, 2002.
Neltner, Thomas. Civil Rights Action on Combined Sewer Overflows in Indianapolis. Clearinghouse Review Journal of Poverty Law and Policy, Nov.-Dec., 2005.
World Health Organization. World Report on Violence and Health: Abstract. www.who.int.

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 20:59:00 +0000

The Indianapolis Peace Institute will present a workshop entitled ‘Understanding Islam’ this weekend, November 22, 2008. This workshop seeks to provide participants an opportunity to learn about this diverse religion, and how its practice informs the lives of many in our communities. Activities will include a visit to a mosque, observation of prayers, and a shared meal. For more information, you can check out our website. If you are interested in registering for this workshop, please contact Kate Williams!

Positive movement.

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 24 Oct 2008 15:51:00 +0000

Ben Leslie, summer 2008 participant from Butler University, wrote this week’s blog.

Change, in various ways, is a very prominent aspect of peacemaking, not only because of the disgruntled situations peacemakers might be trying to give voice to, but also because change is representative of the positive movement many such people push for. Throughout the summer, I have experienced the presence of personal and communal change – change I have caused and change I have observed.

I have had the chance to help develop some things that could have a long lasting effect in the community. Setting up a library workshop for kids, helping with Second Story, and working on some long term music endeavors could, no doubt, be the source of positive change in the future. I’ve had at least a few conversations with my mentor about the real meaning that comes with working with kids and investing in the future. When change comes, it will always be the next generation. Hopefully some of these things I have brought to Big Car will carry into the future changing the way some see the arts in our community or simply helping someone to see their creative spirit.

In a more abstract but very prominent way, I’ve seen the movement of change in the creativity of those who I was surrounded by during my internship. Philosophically, art and music are movement and change in themselves. They also act as common sources of motivation and social statement. At Big Car, many have the opportunity to express themselves in this way to the public. I’ve been surrounded by those who create art and develop their skills because they have a passion for this movement as an outlet and/or as a statement not for any sort of commercial or political gain. In my own endeavors as a musician and a supporter of the arts, this sort of interaction has helped me to be able to see the true value in these things.

The combination between the value this group places in the arts and their eagerness to contribute that value to what they believe in results in an incredible atmosphere full of potential and action in the community around them. This summer has been somewhat of a transition period for Big Car. They are willing and wanting to change based on their own personal movement. If Big Car is not changing, they are not representative of the art which they are there to express, nor are they being true to what they could bring to the community.

Change: Finding Power in What We Have

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 10 Oct 2008 17:51:00 +0000

Summer student Abby Becker contributed this week’s post.

This essay was written in the summer and refers to events that may seem long past. The relevance of the message remains quite clear.

Last night I sat alongside millions of Americans and watched Barack Obama accept the Democratic nomination for president. It was moving, inspiring even, and I felt hope stirring in my heart that has been dormant for a very long time. Obama has risen to his position on a tide calling change, change, change. For most of my life that cry has been something I have been very comfortable with. Change the system, change the administration, change the world. And I believe in change, though I feel more empowered by its related and more radical sister, revolution. But, I have learned a very valuable lesson this summer about change and how in our rush for change, we forget what we already have.

I spent this summer working at the Indianapolis Neighborhood Resource Center, INRC, learning community organizing with a philosophical twist. INRC operates in a framework called asset-based community organizing, in which people come together around their strengths, gifts, talents, and passions. This is not issue-based organizing; this is not a constant collection of needs that often results in a culture of dependency. Asset-based organizers ask, “What are you passionate about? What do you truly care about? What are you willing to do about it?” INRC encourages community ownership and empowerment. It is not a social service center, but it does offer leadership training, mentorship, and technical assistance.

The question I have learned to ask is not, “What do we need?” but “What do we have?” People are enthusiastic when you ask them to simply talk about what they love, what they’re good at. In my peacebuilding experience this summer, I have learned to really build, not just start over and discard everything when I see something that needs to be improved. A human being is a rich foundation, full of skills and knowledge and passion. In community building, I now envision each of these human beings, ripe with experience and full of potential, coming together. We get to know each other; we observe and listen for the unexpected. We find common ground and focus our ideas. This is capacity building. We have to get to know each other in order to understand just how much we can do. As we start to act, people are drawn to this community and swept up in the pride we take in action and ownership. No one is a client of a recipient. Everyone contributes, seniors and adults and children. Everyone is valued, and we help each other. This is people power, and even governments stand up and take notice of this kind of grassroots movement.

The problem I see with the change model we have today is that, in some small way, it demeans people. Those who have fallen on hard times are no longer people but numbers who are worthy not of our friendship, not even a look in the eye, but only our charity. How can a person be independent when we throw what we call services at them and never ask how they can serve? Maybe they’re already serving.

Socrates said, “A child is not a vessel to be filled but a flame to be kindled.” I am sure that is the same with grown human beings, and I ask now, what is it inside that makes you burn brightly? This core, the wick of passion (so to speak) is not something that can be easily dismissed or replaced. I believe in change, in change so deep that it’s true revolution, a 180 degree turn upside-down. I believe, though, that this change should be founded upon the passion in our hearts that has already been sparked. It is easy to say that we need to flood this grim world we have and strike a new fire. To me, thought, it is more powerful to seek within, and together, remember and rekindle what already makes us glow.

Ending the cycle of violence.

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 03 Oct 2008 13:37:00 +0000

Casey Wittekind, 2008 summer participant from Taylor University, submitted this week’s post.

The Julian Center exists to break the cycle of violence and help women become independent and self sufficient. We promote change within the individual by providing tools and skills that will lead to independent living, creating a better life for each woman and child. Women are given job training, continuing education, counseling services, substance abuse counseling, and assistance in obtaining permanent housing. Children are provided with educational opportunities, field trips, summer camp activities, counseling services, mentoring and tutoring. Each client is matched with an advocate who helps to create a plan for growth and change.

By working to end the cycle of violence by educating students and adults about the dangers of domestic violence, we are trying to bring change to the community. Students are taught the signs of healthy and unhealthy relationships and are given information on how to help a friend in trouble. Adults are introduced to the staggering prevalence of domestic violence in our community and throughout the country. The goal of our community education is to expose the frequency of domestic violence and provide individuals with the tools needed to step in and save someone’s life. In fact, our prominently signed location on North Meridian Street brings recognition to the organization and the problem of domestic violence just by making people aware of our services.

As an individual, my role in promoting change is different depending on the circumstance. While in the administrative offices of The Julian Center, I promote change by working to fund the comprehensive services provided to all clients. While this may not be the most glamorous job, it is vital to ensuring that we are able to continue providing for each client’s needs. I promote change by creating the space for that change to happen.

As a member of the Peace House, I promote change by interacting with those I am living with in community. My thoughts and opinions challenge those around me, while I am challenged by their contributions. This ongoing conversation is vital because it introduces differing viewpoints to the conversation. An idea may seem ideal but as it is evaluated by others, shortcomings and issues begin to arise. It is also through interactions with others that we are molded and strengthened, becoming more fully what we were created to be.

Creating Change

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 26 Sep 2008 19:27:00 +0000

Summer student Nick Kauffman contributed this week's post.

The inner city was never somewhere I saw myself working. Though I can’t in all honesty claim Goshen to be a small town, growing up there certainly does not make one a city slicker, and I’ve always found places like New York and Chicago to be grittily urban and generally unhappy. I am not comfortable in such places, and for exactly that reason I decided to pursue an internship through the Indianapolis Peace Institute. Motivated by a newfound passion for issues relating to the criminal justice system, I semi-arbitrarily settled into a job at an organization that I now believe is a stellar example of how to pursue change in the face of “inner-city” issues like violence, poverty and crime. Aftercare for Indiana Mentoring (AIM) creates change by heading off these problems at the pass and providing support to those who both really need it and are truly ripe for change: juveniles.

Funded almost entirely by grants, with some per-student support from the state, AIM makes one-on-one mentoring its primary mission. This choice is based on statistics that consistently show that juvenile offenders who are given a mentor are more likely to thrive and stay out of prison. Working through Marion County’s Community Transition Program, AIM provides mentors and life skills classes to the students, who are also given case managers and home-based therapists in an intensive effort to create the support system they need.

The problem that AIM seeks to address is critical: many juvenile offenders have spent a significant portion of their formative years locked up, and as a consequence are far behind their expected level in everything from reading and writing to social skills. Most of them have often undiagnosed mental disorders of varying severities and have been removed from society for so long they have no idea how to behave once released. For this reason, recidivism is a very real danger among these populations, and it is highly likely that they will continue to commit crimes as they enter their adult lives, infusing the adult criminal justice system with a supply of ready-made convicts.

AIM’s mission is simple: keep the kids out of jail. And it’s an urgent one, too, since many of the youth we work with are sixteen or seventeen years old: one more misstep and they’re likely to be waived to the adult courts, which, with some of their crimes, will put them behind bars for several years and set them up for what will essentially amount to a lifetime of incarceration.

My role within this system was not as a mentor, but as a facilitator for the AIM Academy, a ten-day intensive life skills class that students must complete immediately upon release from the facilities. We compliment the mentors’ role by giving focused classes in managing finances, pursuing healthy relationships, obtaining gainful employment, managing stress, decision making and pursuing further education (most of our students are encouraged to pursue a GED).

While the Academy does not represent the primary mission of AIM, I still see it as critical: one of the most important factors in whether or not a kid ends up getting locked up again is whether or not he (I worked only with boys; girls are tutored on an individual basis) is able to get a job. There are two primary reasons for this: firstly, even the students admit that one of the reasons they get in trouble is they don’t have anything to do during the day (some even talk about how the Academy keeps them out of trouble just by keeping them occupied); and secondly, most of our students see a dichotomy between finding a job and “going back to making money the way [they] know how.” The really heartwarming moments for us were the times our students got hired even while they were still in the Academy.

The big flaw with the juvenile justice system is that it pulls adolescents out of society and locks them in a different world for what, at their age, is a damaging amount of time (one student was locked up for truancy; he ultimately served three years because of continuing bad behavior in the facility). They come out knowing nothing about writing checks, getting jobs or even interacting with girls, and yet they are expected to mesh seamlessly into unfamiliar social expectations. When the world as they understand it clashes with the world as the law understands it, they end up right back in prison.

This is why organizations like AIM are so crucial: what the students need is education. They need to be taught the things that people are going to assume they already know, which was my role, and they also need to be given the support and consistency that many of them haven’t experienced at home (I spent time with a home-based therapist who told me that the greatest unfulfilled need the students have is consistency). This summer, I was able to play a part in that push towards change, and I’m curious to continue working on crime-related issues, whether from a social service angle like with AIM or from a policy angle, where we on the ground understand all to well that reform is desperately needed.

Connecting Indianapolis to Global Issues

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 19 Sep 2008 19:47:00 +0000

Summer Student Laura Stoesz reflects on the work of Provocate to connect local citizens to global issues needing action.

Provocate is an organization that does much on a shoestring budget. And by shoestring, I mean nonexistent. Having no nonprofit tax-exempt status, grant-writing (and therefore, funding) is out. However, as founder John Clark would say, if something is worth doing, it’s worth doing poorly, and not only in the monetary sense of the word.

What does Provocate think is worth doing? What all nonprofit organizations think is worth doing: changing things for the better. How do they do it? Well, consider: Provocate covers every event in Indianapolis.

Not like news coverage, mind. Deep, thought-provoking, know-before-you-go coverage. Coverage that bends over backwards for provocate.org readers. Like providing names and contact information for multiple people who can tell you exactly what coltan is or exactly what a Poet Laureate does. Making available a public Google calendar full of local events that gmail users can add to their own calendars. Hyperlinking blog-style op-eds on current controversies with the low-down on events related to all the fuss. Categorizing all events so that surfers can find all the events on Tibet, Darfur, or Capital Punishment with one click.

The intent is to “turn all of Indianapolis into a think tank,” according to John, who moonlights as Senior Research Fellow at the Sagamore Institute for Policy Research. Behind that statement lies the unspoken philosophy that getting people out to events
(a) will inspire and/or empower them to begin acting as change agents (provided the events are good enough);
and
(b) requires someone doing whatever it takes to grab them by the wrist, point out the location on a map, and tell them everything will be ok.

And that’s what provocate.org intends to do: get locals to think, care and act.

But that’s not all that the Provocate architecture supports. Provocate staff (i.e. John Clark) act as a go-between for busy entities like the Indianapolis Museum of Art and the Indianapolis Art Cener, keeping things from getting messy when plans coincide. He whips up informative, controversy-filled talks out of thin air and gives them to groups like Sertoma and GINE. He shows up at events possibly just for the sheer thrill of referring an aspiring refugee advocate to a local expert who happens to be in attendance. And his big-idea tank never seems to run dry.

Cue me, the lowly intern. What do I see? Well, at first, quite honestly, a job too big for one person, or even three (at last count). A mess. So I took diligent notes all summer, trying to wrap my head around all the stuff that this organization does. And I return to my incessant question: no longer What are they doing? (I’ve finally answered that), but Is it really worth doing poorly? Isn’t positive change worth doing well?

I would venture that staff members John and Gwyneth believe that anything that leads to positive change is worth doing poorly. Because the fact that people are out there working for change because of Provocate is, in a way, in itself doing it well. Even if we throw things together at the last minute or lack organization (“do it poorly”), we make up for it with the people we hook. If an event inspires them, we have done well.

Yes, Provocate is sometimes ineffective. But only because Provocate tries to do too much. Its broad scope combined with its lofty goals sometimes makes it seem like the organizational equivalent of a rambling movie. But in trying to do too much, Provocate has found a niche in the change business. One might say Provocate outsources its change. It gets people inspired about things that our organization just doesn’t have time to work on.

And how do I help? I functioned in the organization as a listening ear, hearing ideas and offering suggestions. Often John would call me into his office and tell me he needed to borrow my brain. I did the day-to-day work of maintaining the website, complete with tracking down information about events we recommended and making that information interesting for our readers. I got bored, I remembered the purpose, I pressed on. When, in my wanderings around the city, I heard about interesting things going on, I put them on our Google Calendar.

For that matter, I tried to help Provocate work for change by making the Google calendar a self-sustaining forum with user-added content. It would have furthered things on the positive change front by streamlining everything Provocate does, making it more efficient and effective overall, but it was an idea whose time had not yet come. Of course, I’d be much more satisfied with my contribution to the organization if I’d been able to achieve such a lofty goal. But Provocate is bumping along just fine without it, like all peacebuilding organizations, doing things poorly until they can do things well.

Loving the Unlovely

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 12 Sep 2008 19:46:00 +0000

Summer Internship Program student Claire Bellis contributed this week's post about her internship at Rebuilding the Wall (RTW).

There’s something strange about loving the unlovely, something contradictory, coarsely counterintuitive, it’s almost offensive. It just can’t make sense. The world forgets some people, it lets them falls through the cracks; it lets their voices be drowned out in industrial thunder, gunfire, and the deafening silence of those who will not stand up to injustice. No wonder our neighbourhood does not have a name, few people care enough to even need to refer to it. Change happens everyday simply because a few people in a small non-profit have chosen to love beyond what the world has determined they should. It breaks boxes people get put into. He is no longer an ex-con likely to go back to jail, he is a valuable member of the construction crew. They are no longer a low-income family with problems likely to keep them in cycles of poverty, they are a home-owning family contributing to a thriving community. These are no longer streets riddled with crime, but a neighbourhood where people really look after one another. Hang around with these people long enough and you will start to see what they do.

You might argue, love is simply not enough, love cannot really bring change, there are deeper injustices and issues than can be fixed with your emotional, fuzzy band-aid. But we can join in on a love that is stronger than these injustices.

When you are in this kind of relationship that makes you aware not only of people’s needs, but their talents and strengths, their humanity, things can change. The homeownership side of RTW is really just a way to get people to stick around the neighbourhood long enough to continue this relationship so that the love really gets through and has a chance to be contagious. However, it is also a vehicle for treating people with love. Families are not joining a program, but are partners with RTW – in being the ones who really do the work, they gain a self-respect from doing something they thought they never could. Families meet with family partners, (usually people who have achieved homeownership), meaning that they are more likely to reach their goals because they have a support, and a relationship within the community. A number of families live in transition to homeownership units, which are situated in the neighbourhood, so that they are part of the community before they move into their house. The financial, physical aspect of homeownership is not RTW’s sole interest: families are encouraged to think about educational and career goals; about emotional and relational stability and spiritual development. No part of a person is overlooked, because people bring all of these aspects of themselves to a community, and they need to for it to thrive.

I could talk all day about how RTW works – about leverage and balance and keeping money in our community’s local economy – and about my participation in tasks that helped RTW, and in setting up projects that will hopefully get residents more engaged. But really, I hope that I contributed to change mostly through building relationships - both in the peace house and at RTW - through creating safe spaces for people to be more of who they really are, more of what love brings out in them.

My Summer Vacation as Reality TV

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 05 Sep 2008 18:54:00 +0000

This week’s post comes from Betsy Shirley, who completed the Institute’s 2008 Summer Internship Program, and is a student at Butler University.

When I announced that I would be spending the summer at the Indianapolis Peace House, my parents thought I had joined a hippie commune. Visions of dreadlocks, tie-dye and organic co-ops clouded their concerned faces. I carefully explained that the Peace House was a summer internship program focused on peacebuilding in the community. Along with twelve other college students, I would intern with a local organization and work to establish an intentional community in the huge house we all shared. And it worked. My parents’ visions of commune and co-ops vanished. Their daughter wasn’t joining a hippie commune—she was going to be on a reality TV show. I could see the commercial playing in their heads…

INT. FLASH PICTURE OF 13 IDEALISTIC COLLEGE STUDENTS

SHOW HOST:
(voiceover)
They say they believe in peace…

CUT TO INTERVIEW EXCERPTS

IDEALIST COLLEGE STUDENT #1
(Bubbly enthusiasm)
Peace is so important, you know, we just really need more peace…

SHOW HOST:
(voiceover)
They say they want to live in community…

IDEALIST COLLEGE STUDENT #2
(starry-eyed)
We live in such an individualistic society; we just really need to get back to sharing our lives with each other…

CUT TO PICTURE OF THE HOUSE

SHOW HOST:
(voiceover, milking the drama)
But see what happens when you take thirteen idealistic college students and put them in one house with four bathrooms for nine weeks…

INT. KITCHEN

IDEALIST COLLEGE STUDENT #3
(looking into refrigerator, to student #2)
Hey! My organic hummus is missing! Who’s been eating my hummus? Where’d my organic hummus go?

IDEALIST COLLEGE STUDENT #2
(with disdain)
Don’t look at me, you unsustainable yuppie-punk. I only eat fair-trade, vegan organic hummus. I wouldn’t touch your mass-produced crap.

IDEALIST COLLEGE STUDENT #3
Oh yeah? Well I saw you putting recyclable plastic in the trash last night. ‘Fess up you consumerist waster…

SHOW HOST:
(voiceover)
And that’s only week one. Welcome to the Peace House.

I had to admit: my parents had a point. Living in a house with twelve other people in close proximity has potential for drama and conflict that would make any television producer drool. Sure, sharing meals, space, and toothpaste sounds great in theory, but what happens when somebody forgets to buy toilet paper or your special grapefruit disappears?

Well, I’ll tell you what happens: you find a roll of paper towels and make do. The grapefruit remains a mystery, but someone buys ten pounds of blueberries to share, and the grapefruit are forgotten. And then someone makes bread, and you wipe your fingers on your jeans because the paper towels are being used elsewhere. And when you run out of toilet paper, paper towels, AND napkins, someone makes an emergency trip to Kroger. And then you laugh and make a pot of tea.

In other words, the Peace House taught me a lot about peace that never surfaces in a classroom or internship environment. Living with twelve other students was messy, complicated, and costly¬¬¬¬—both in time and resources. There were even some days when we wanted to vote someone off the island or set up a confession cam in a closet. But even in the moments when it felt a little a like reality television show, it was a fantastic experience.

I realize I’m supposed to be writing about my internship. That was a great experience, too. The Second Story is promoting change by re-engaging kids from all over Indianapolis in creative writing, and as a result, helping them become more successful people. And as an intern, I had the opportunity to shape how The Second Story will accomplish that mission by researching and developing standards for their creative writing programs. Yet, I can’t deny that the most meaningful way I learned about promoting peace was through living in the Peace House, not from my internship.

And why, exactly, was the community experience so meaningful? To quote a favorite peacebuilder, we were the change we wanted to see in Indianapolis this summer. Or part of the change, at least. We want the world to be more environmentally responsible—so we composted, walked, and recycled. We want to stop violence and gentrification in this neighborhood—so we hosted an open house and listened to people talk about gentrification. We believe that life is better when it is shared—so we shared, everything from meals and teas to documentaries and toilet paper.

I think this is why we can’t seem to talk about peace without coming back to an awareness of community; we need other people around us to give us the courage to live out our beliefs. Peacebuilding is simply too daunting to attempt on your own. Not to mention, it’s a lot more fun with other people.

End Scene

We are all refugees.

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Thu, 28 Aug 2008 18:28:00 +0000

Matt Plummer, Goshen College shares some thoughts about his experience with the Indianapolis Peace Institute this summer:

Fleeing from their homes, their villages, leaving behind friends dead and friends already flown, bombs exploding over their heads, picking through the jungle, avoiding the places that are rumored to have been mimed, sometimes mistaking safe parts for dangerous parts, losing limbs, loved ones, friends, family, livelihoods and lives; such is the terror, the constant fear that is the life of many of the world’s refugees. Leaving the country that considers them “disposable” or fleeing a racial, ethnic, or religious conflict that has targeted them as sheep to be slaughtered, as collateral for the superior aims of a country, ethnic group, or religious organization; refugees represent “the fringe,” the people who, farthest away from the seats of power, receive the brunt of the injustices created by a global, domination, unjust world system. The poorest, the most downtrodden of people, refugees are the most in need of peace, of community, or solidarity with others that will support their right to live, to be human. As a refugee resettlement agency, Exodus Refugee Immigration lives out what liberation theology terms “the preferential option for the poor.” This “preferential option for the poor,” the concept that a social, political, economic and religious systems that does not provide enough resources, life enhancing communities and support should not exist, is absolutely essential to creating more egalitarian systems in this world. And hence peace can only be instituted if the poor have justice. Exodus Refugee Immigration does just that, giving the world’s outcast as much justice as can be given in the current situation.

Through the process of resettlement, refugees not only find a safe environment where their rights as human beings are respected, it also gives them a voice. Denied the right event to protest without the fear of violent retribution, refugees in the Indianapolis area and all around the nation have taken the opportunity to voice their pain, frustrations, fears and anger at the injustice they have left behind. Through personal stories, local forums, events like World Refugee Day; Exodus Refugee Immigration helps refugees bring attention to the atrocities being enacted in their home states. This advocacy, on the local level, ultimately manifests itself on the political and state level, drawing condemnation from the world for the actions of such human rights violators as the Burmese junta, the Janjaweed military, and the inhospitability of an occupied Iraq deep into a civil war.

But ultimately Exodus Refugee Immigration contributes to peacebuilding by creating justice at the local, individual level. It gives men, women, and children, the victims of some of humanity’s worst atrocities, the documents, skills, and connections to build new lives in the Indianapolis area. And it supports them as they look back in anxiety, wondering whether their friends and family, still in the volatile areas or stuck in a refugee camp, will ever be able to join them. And so piece by piece, refugees come to know what a life without violence is, and learn how to build peace in their communities in the U.S. and hopefully, their communities back home.

And this, in a sense, is how organizations like Exodus Refugee Immigration contribute to world-wide efforts of peacebuilding. In a world beset by what environmentalist Julia Butterfly Hill calls the “disease of disconnected consciousness” we are all refugees. Refugees from the government, refugees from the land, refugees from the violence of our childhood, neighborhoods, community, refugees from the reigning ideologies and meta-narratives that create the systems which promote suffering, death, and disconnectedness in the first place; refugees from each other. The plight of the refugee is our plight, and justice for the refugee will ultimately be justice for ourselves also.

Taking the good with the bad.

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 16:40:00 +0000

Kate Williams, Special Projects Coordinator, submitted this week's blog.

I had fully intended to use this week’s blog to discuss the Olympic Games, taking place in Beijing as I type this. I had planned on talking about the power of the games to unite people, showcasing the potential we all possess to come together peacefully. I have seen amazing performances, witnessed great kindnesses between athletes, and felt the kind of inspiration I have always felt when watching the Games.

Events of this week have clouded my inspired view. I was saddened and angered to learn that violent conflict had broken out between Russia and Georgia, and an email I received from a former classmate of mine only increased my frustration. This friend recently began her Peace Corps service in Georgia. She wrote to assure us that she was safe, but had been evacuated. She was scheduled to begin working in a school, providing support for teachers and students. She and all the other Peace Corps volunteers in her group had been evacuated, and it seems unlikely that they will be returning to complete their service in Georgia.

For some reason, getting her message made me realize something that I hadn’t really considered before. During a time of war, it is easy to concentrate on the physical violence of the conflict, and I think that we sometimes lose sight of the fact that the violence of war extends far beyond the battlefield. During a time of war, the conflict takes precedence- schools close, people are displaced, governments screech to a halt. The needs of the people of a nation take second place to the needs of territorial protection, long-standing rivalry, or whatever factors led to the conflict. War takes over, and affects every aspect of life. I had always concentrated on the conflict, and the disappointment I feel when human interaction breaks down into violence. This time, I found myself saddened on a deeper level as I realized that when we go to war, we easily lose sight of the other needs of our communities.

This week brought with it such sharp contrasts: the togetherness of the Olympics, a joyful celebration of human prosperity and ability contrasted with the harsh reality of war. I find myself unable to be totally optimistic or pessimistic about the situation, but consumed by the questions that have confronted me. War is terrible- I can’t think of much opposition to that statement, but I think we have to take it a step further. Why is war so bad? What does violent conflict do to our communities, both global and local? And finally, what can I do to influence positive change?

How do peacebuilders promote change?

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 08 Aug 2008 15:11:00 +0000

Laura Harms, the Institute’s Associate Director, contributed this week’s post.

As our summer program came to an end last week, I asked students to reflect on their role as individuals and members of organizations in promoting change. For me as well as for many students, more questions came to the surface than answers. How do we each have an impact on systems that seem bigger than us? Is there a better way than just waiting for our small act of justice towards another to ripple out? When violence occurs in record numbers as it did in July, how do we both give permission to the fear that wells up in us and also take well-thought steps towards ending such violence?

My logical mind acknowledges that we – human beings – as the creators of systems ought to be capable agents of change within those systems. The process, however, can seem filled with mystery. Fortunately, I do not have to rely solely on my own mind to provide insight. I’ve recently been reviewing an assessment tool that helps to uncover some of the components in a Culture of Peace and gives direction as to where to start building one. You can see the tool and more at Culture of Peace

First of all, I want to be clear that we are well on our way towards a culture of peace. We already do a lot of what is in this document. For example, the document suggests sharing as a way towards sustainable economic and social development. That seems straight out of “All I need to know I learned in Kindergarten” but there’s more to it than splitting a box of crayons between two kids. How do we share with those we’ve never met? With those whose stories we can’t personally verify? With those whose stories are so filled with acts of cruelty that we don’t even want to be associated with them let alone share with them? As daunting as they are, I take solace in the answerability of these questions. No longer am I faced with the mysteries of an ill-defined peace and no path to get there.

Furthermore, these questions imply action. The paralysis that sets in when faced with unanswerable questions falls away. This is not to say that the answers bring with them only joy and happiness. A call to action can be a very uncomfortable thing. Yet I feel a sense of assurance in facing the challenges and discomforts that arise hand in hand with this kind of purposeful call to action. This assurance doesn’t accompany my actions when they are born from a vague sense of what “should” be done to bring justice or build peace.

So the question of change can be answered. The longing I feel for peace and justice can be backed up with solid reasoning and brought into purposeful action. Even though it may still involve some waiting before the end product is revealed, the process of effectively acting to build peace is part of end product already in our hands.

What would it be like?

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 01 Aug 2008 18:00:00 +0000

Kim Overdyck, the Institute’s Executive Director, submitted this week’s post.

I was paging through a book that I’d recently purchased called “Father Knows Less Or: Can I Cook My Sister?” by Wendell Jamieson when I came across a question posed by five year old Katie from Brooklyn, New York who asked: “what would it be like if whatever we were supposed to be doing, we didn’t really do?” For those of you who don’t know about this book, this is a great resource to find the answers to a multitude of questions asked by the young enquiring mind. Jamieson has collected questions from a variety of sources around the world, including his son who inspired the creation of this book. To find answers to these questions, Jamieson sought out the experts. In Katie’s case, Jamieson sought guidance and an answer from David Miller, the secretary of the Existentialist Society in Melbourne, Australia.

Katie’s question got me thinking. I read and took into consideration what David Miller had to say but felt that perhaps there was more to Katie’s question; that there were additional questions that we should be asking ourselves. One of the questions being - Why do we choose to do the work that we do?

A couple of days later I was part of a group that met with Julia Butterfly Hill, a young woman who spent 2 years and 8 days living in a California Redwood to prevent loggers from cutting it down. One of the conversations that took place with Julia Butterfly was around finding our own inner calling, what she calls “finding your tree”, and not the calling that is recommended or identified by others. What is it that “calls you to stretch beyond what is comfortable into places that are uncomfortable, and to realize that you are more powerful and more magical than your mind could have believed?”

If we look at Katie’s question again and added inner calling to it, the question becomes - What would it be like if whatever we were supposed to be doing, our inner calling, we didn’t really do? This is a question that we all should be asking ourselves. If we haven’t already, we need to identify our inner calling. We need to take stock of whether or not we are following our inner calling. We need to acknowledge what the impact is on us as individuals and to our field/discipline when we do not follow our inner calling.

So next time you feel frustrated, despondent or overwhelmed with what you are doing, think about this question posed by young Katie from Brooklyn, New York.

Wendell Jamieson: Father Knows Less or: “Can I Cook My Sister?”: G.P. Putnam’s Sons: New York: 2007
Julia Butterfly Hill - http://www.whatsyourtree.blogspot.com/

Tap into your Super Power!

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Thu, 24 Jul 2008 19:25:00 +0000

This weeks blog comes from Danielle Tate, Recruitment and Marketing Coordinator.

July has got to be the month for superheroes. It seems as if each year around this time, Hollywood releases it latest blockbuster in which the main character comes to save the world of mass destruction or some other form of evil. This year we were lucky to get two; Hancock and Dark Knight. Grossing over 220 million dollars collectively, moviegoers rushed to see their favorite villain fall to their demise by the ever so power superhero.

I haven’t had the opportunity to see either one of these movies, but as I read the reviews and watched the trailers a thought came to me. We need a real life superhero to come and save us from mass destruction. Wouldn’t it be cool to have a superhero come remove all the gangs, guns and drugs from the street, find the antidote AIDS, fly up and put a cork in the ever growing hole in the ozone layer, and make pounds of food rain across impoverished communities all in a day’s work. That would solve about 99.9% of our problems.

As I mediated on this thought a little longer I got a revelation. We don’t need superheroes with supernatural powers to come and save us from our fate. What is needed is regular, super committed individuals ready to work to can make a super difference in the lives of others. It does not take X-ray vision to be able to see the hurt in our neighbors and reach out a helping hand. Muscles of steel are not the answer to the violence that runs rampant in our communities; but rather people with hearts of gold to show love to young people seeking acceptance, validation and protection in the streets. Superman is not needed to come and blow frigid air across the world to cool it from its warming state, but rather individuals with cool ideas to reuse, reduce, and recycle.

Last week I visited the Indianapolis Children’s Museum and they were running an exhibit on comic book superheroes. As I roamed through the exhibit, there were many superheroes that slipped my mind. However, as I browse through my mental memory book, I will never forget those super individuals who made a difference in my life and saved me from my personal acts of self-destruction. So the next time reading the morning paper or watching the evening news makes you wish for a superhero, look in the mirror and recognize the power you have to make a difference.

Who has the POWER to make change? WE DO!

Now what?

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 16:56:00 +0000

Special Projects Coordinator Kate Williams contributed this week’s post.

In an earlier post we talked about the problems that can arise when a desire to do something positive is misdirected. (See “First do no harm”). People sometimes rush into crisis situations without planning out how they will direct their desire to help. We talked about the importance of making sure that that positive energy is channeled into positive, effective and sustainable action. Positive change requires a combination of honest dialogue, enthusiasm, and organization. It’s a lot of work, and it can be discouraging for individuals who find themselves with a lot of energy to contribute, but without a clear idea of how to contribute it.

There are many issues that negatively impact our community: violence, pollution, and homelessness, just to name a few. It would be difficult for one person to solve the problems associated with any one of these issues, but that doesn’t mean that there is no value in thinking about them and taking action. One person could spend a lifetime trying to clean up the air in Indianapolis and only make a small dent in the problem. However, if every driver in this city used one less gallon of gas a week, the results could be tremendous. Small changes executed by a large group of people have the power to dramatically change the larger world. Trying to “save the world” can be a frustrating and discouraging process for one person. A community can come together, however, and create remarkable change for the better.

The next time that you find yourself frustrated with the world around you, don’t let that energy fall victim to disenchantment. There are concrete actions that you can take to improve the world around you, actions that can fit into your lifestyle and still make a difference. I have suggested the five actions that I believe can make the biggest difference; please feel free to contribute your ideas!

1. VOTE (and not just for president). Many of us participate in national elections, but ignore the fact that there are many elections on the state and city level. The more you know about your politicians and the more you make your opinions known to them, the better.
2. GET THE NEWS. It can be discouraging to watch or read the news, especially when you live in troubling times. Information is power, and the more you know the better equipped you are to make decisions about your community and world. Get both sides of each story, and draw your own conclusions
3. VOLUNTEER. Whether taking on a student to mentor, cleaning up a highway, or working in a soup kitchen, direct service is a fulfilling and powerful way to participate in your community. The Institute offers a comprehensive volunteer guide for the Indianapolis area. Write williams@indianapolispeaceinstitute.org to request one.
4. RECYCLE. This is a small step that we can all take to conserve resources and improve the environment. Many more items are recyclable, and many neighborhoods offer curbside recycling programs.
5. BUY LOCAL. Support small businesses in your community and buy produce from local farmers. It can be a little more expensive, but you improve quality and community when you buy from local merchants.

Self-Sufficiency

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 21:04:00 +0000

Associate Director Laura Harms contributed this week's posting.

Coordinating the internship component of our summer and semester program gives me the chance to get to know a lot of wonderful organizations, companies and individuals doing great peacebuilding work in Indianapolis. By nature, I am attuned to seeing connections and themes emerge even between the most unlikely groupings. I enjoy the synergy of these connections and the creativity it provokes in me.
One theme that has emerged in my own ruminations lately is that of self-sufficiency: when should self-sufficiency be a goal and when does it begin to interfere with the broader goals of community and interdependence that peacebuilders work towards?

Many times self-sufficiency is a stated goal of an organization when a program addresses a specific population: survivors of domestic violence must become self-sufficient to distance themselves from their reliance on an abusive relationship; ex-offenders deemed ready to re-enter society must find a way to sustain themselves; the homeless need jobs to afford their own housing. I guess the conundrum begins when self-sufficiency is linked to our understanding of independence. A sense of independence – being your own person with your own decision-making power - is essential to human dignity. Yet, in our culture, the easiest examples of independence are economic: the ability to choose where we live, what we eat, what we buy.

When I asked the Executive Director of a local grassroots organization about this he stated, “Why on earth would anyone want to be self-sufficient?” I can only assume that he has picked up on the same undercurrent I bring up here. For as much as we understand the struggles of impoverished groups who, presumably, don’t have what they need to be self-sufficient, we also understand the struggles of the wealthy who feel distant and alone. When independence is simplified to mean achieving a certain level of economic stability, human dignity is just as out of reach as when independence is not granted at all.

In building peace, each individual needs to have a voice and a contribution but having our voice reduced to dollars (we’ve all heard the phrase “voting with your wallet”) takes what is most valuable about community out of the equation. The fallacy of putting economics first in this conversation leads to as many unaccomplished dreams as the lack of resources that self-sufficiency is meant to resolve.

We know that self-sufficiency strengthens individuals and that strong individuals make strong communities. How do we acknowledge the need for self-sufficiency and the dignity it brings while balancing that with the path towards interdependence? How do we place non-economic value on seemingly paradoxical concepts like independence and interdependence?

For more ruminations on this topic, visit this link where Howard Richards comments on The Heifer Project and self-reliance.

A blog about blogging

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 27 Jun 2008 18:59:00 +0000

This week's installment was submitted by Kate Williams, Special Projects Coordinator at the Peace Institute.

While perusing the BBC’s News Site the other day, I came across the following article: Blogger arrests hit record high Since 2003, over 60 people have been arrested for expressing their opinions in blogs. Blogging is something I have always taken for granted: how could much trouble come from these on-line diaries? I’ve read controversial blogs, blogs I agree with, blogs that offend me, blogs that teach me about issues of which I would otherwise be unaware. I never considered that legal trouble could result from these expressions of opinion, and the aforementioned BBC article was a real shock.

I think that it’s easy to forget that the right to express opinions is one not shared universally. Blogs are quickly becoming a foregone conclusion in America—more people are producing and reading blogs than ever before, and we sometimes ignore the fact that such freedom of expression is a rare and new occurrence in human history. We are free to gather and disseminate information with relatively few restrictions. This is not the case in many other parts of the world—people take genuine risks to report on what is happening in their communities.

Events in Zimbabwe are a good example of the powerful impact that information sharing can have. Robert Mugabe’s government controls traditional broadcast media in Zimbabwe, and information that appears on state-run media outlets is subject to censorship. The growth of computer ownership and internet access (while slow) is dramatically challenging the state’s control over information. Social networking, news, and blogging are all spreading information in ways that are difficult to control. Some radios and computers have been confiscated, but individuals continue to take personal risks to create an open flow of information.

I would encourage all of you to check out blogs from Zimbabwe and China, or anywhere in the world that information is restricted by the state. You might not necessarily learn anything new, or agree with the opinions of the bloggers you encounter. However, restricting discourse and dialogue is not a sound way of governing a people, and I think we should encourage those authors who take risks to communicate.

We Need a Dialogue!

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 20 Jun 2008 16:47:00 +0000

When it comes to discussing race and diversity there are two things that often bothered me when I was in school and to this day. First, in most cases the topics were covered on such a surface level. Because race is an issue that is so engrained into the fabric of our society from its inception, it is an extremely difficult and sensitive topic to discuss. Having such a conversation can make those involved very uncomfortable. I have participated in more than my share of diversity trainings and workshops and often felt that it was kept to a surface level to keep everyone involved comfortable and from having to really consider how they felt about certain topics and why. It was like “great no one here is racist!” lets move on. It hardly got to the depth of talking about people’s everyday experiences; those microaggressions that often times caused conflicts in the classroom, residence halls and cafeterias or influenced so much of people’s interactions and perceptions about people we considered “others.” For this reason, I think we continued to deal with the same issues of race and diversity on campus. My second gripe was that there was no space to discuss race or diversity beyond the superficial level. The classroom should be a place where different opinions are brought to the forefront and ideas are challenged and critically thought about. Unfortunately, that was not the case. In most incidences these conversations were omitted from discussions or rushed over. If I wanted to discuss such things I have to do so at the risk of further alienating myself from the peers in which I already felt different or being labeling as a “complainer” or “angry black woman.” Due to this lack of genuine dialogue, not debate, it allowed for people from all walks of life, experiences, backgrounds, cultures, etc. to live as neighbors and not know anything about each other. This lack of dialogue also allowed for stereotypes to be perpetuated, spurred fear and distrust for those that were not like us, and caused great conflicts over simple misunderstandings.

I don’t believe that my experiences are much different from others, in that race is something that is not talked about. That is why in 2008, nooses hanging from institutions of higher learning and workplaces are still being displayed and people don’t see the problem with it. This is why someone in the media is consistently being blasted for various forms of hate speech and insensitive language and people can respond, “What’s the big deal?” It is for this reason I believe that as we witness this historic political campaign that one of the biggest questions has been “Will America vote for a black man?” Most people were shocked and outraged at the comments that were said by Rev. Wright. For me, it was not a big surprise. These are the types of conversations that occur daily in communities across America. Because many of us grow up and live in homogenous communities, we are never exposed to the frustrations, ideas, anger, or opinions of those that are different from us. It is also why a simple “pound” can be labeled as a “terrorist fist jab.” We fail to learn about people that are different from us, have no cultural sensitivity, and have no desire to change that for fear of learning that something that we have held to be inherently true all our lives, just might not be so.

When Senator Barak Obama gave his speech on race, many people classified it as one of the most important speeches he would have to give. It also brought to the spotlight many of the issues about race that have been swept under the rug for so many years. Senator Obama recognized the value of dialogue and called for a national dialogue on race. This ideal for the need of race dialogues was not some new concept that the Senator came up with. For years many in academia and that work with diverse groups of people have been advocating for dialogue as a means of managing conflicts that damage our communities.

I have spoken about race dialogues because that is the issue that resonates closest to me. However, it is important that we have genuine dialogues about all of these difficult and sensitive topics that can destroy a community and cause various forms of conflict. Most times we are comfortable with arguing our position in debates as if we are trying to win some type of game. Real genuine dialogue requires more out of us. We are no longer trying to win the person over to our side and seek flaws in their arguments. Rather we are seeking true understanding and asking questions such as “ What experiences have you had that have led you to feel the way you do?” We are establishing relationships that enable us to be more empathic to others and cognizant of our own actions. We can never really understand what is it like to walk in someone else’s shoes, but through genuine dialogue, we can take big steps to building bridges and eliminating some of those things that cause us to see each other as so different.

Individuals, government, and habeas corpus.

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 17:18:00 +0000

The Institute’s Special Projects Coordinator, Kate Williams, contributed this week’s post.

This week, the United States Supreme Court handed down a decision that dramatically challenged the present administration’s decision to imprison individuals at Guantanamo Bay. The US naval base in Cuba has been home to a number of men, 270 at present. All have been described as “enemy combatants,” and held without trial for years. The Supreme Court’s decision will not close the facility, nor ensure speedy access to a trial for any of these men, but it did clearly remove the legal basis for holding these men. What will happen next depends on a number of factors, and this ruling has placed a great deal of pressure on the current administration.

The right of habeas corpus guarantees that prisoners have a right to have their imprisonment reviewed by a court of law. If their accusers cannot provide an adequate basis for their imprisonment, the prisoner should be set free. This right guarantees that authorities cannot simply imprison people without any judicial oversight. It is a fundamental aspect of our democracy, and a right we often take for granted.

To many, the detention center in Guantanamo contradicted this essential belief. While those held are not American citizens, and are being held offshore, their imprisonment without trial, and often without access to legal counsel seemed to violate some of our core values. The debate has been heated, on going, and shows no signs of stopping any time soon.

To me, this situation has offered an opportunity to examine my beliefs, and question the actions of my government. While I think that certain fundamental rights, like the right to a trial, are essential to the survival of the American experiment, I also wonder about the other side of this debate. Are we safer because these 270 men have been imprisoned for the last few years? Would bringing them to trial have had a negative impact on counter-terrorism activities? George Bush is not the first president to suspend habeas corpus; Abraham Lincoln suspended that right during the Civil War. We constantly struggle to safeguard the rights of the individual while maintaining a secure country. How do we draw the line between individual liberty and national security?

The War at Home

noreply@blogger.com (IndianapolisPeaceInstitute) — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 19:56:00 +0000

This week's blog comes from Danielle Tate, our Recruitment and Marketing Coordinator.

On Sunday June 1st a 12-year-old boy was gunned down in a senseless act of violence; a drive-by shooting at a park just blocks from his home. So far today there have been 5 shootings resulting in the death of 2 people and injury of 5. Earlier this year a baby and a toddler, together with their mothers, were shot to and killed while being held in their mother’s arms. Last September, just minutes before a crowded middle school was released for the day, gunfire erupted just outside the school’s front door. Last August, four college co-eds were shot execution style at a neighborhood park, killing three. Today, a 17-year old high school student, who planned on graduating early in December, was shot in the head while sitting in the passenger seat of a moving vehicle. These are not war stories from Iraq, Afghanistan or other countries engulfed in civil wars. These stories reflect the reality of many who live in cities across America. So what do you do when violence comes home; when at any point in the day you run the risk of becoming the next homicide statistic in your city, simply by going about your day to day activities?

This is a difficult topic because there are so many places that people attempt to place the blame. One could argue that more money is being spent fighting what some would call an “unjustifiable war” in Iraq, while ignoring the ills of our cities. You can blame lawmakers for not enforcing tougher gun laws. Or there are the police who can’t be everywhere. Maybe we could point the finger at residents who fail to comply with police during their investigations for fear of retaliation and losing their life. Some may say it is the fault of the judicial system for not being able to protect witnesses. Others argue it is the fault of the parents who fail to raise their children because they are forced to work long hours to provide basic necessities for their families. Wherever you chose to put the blame in this never ending cycle of violence, the fact remains that many of the residents in urban cities live in war zones riddled with drive-by shootings and other serious crimes.

It seems apparently easier to fight a war overseas when there is a known enemy. But what happens when the war is here at home? When the enemy is a product of flawed societal values and systems, and cannot be identified in most cases until after they hurt some innocent bystander? Do you restrain your children from playing outside? Do you live like hermits in your home out of fear? What do you do?