Green Buddhism &
HARVARD HEAT WEEK by Alexa Kutler
What is an activist? Is there only one type of activism? Can one be an activist without planning protests or chaining themselves to trees? Can one be an activist if she is not willing to be arrested for a cause at any given time? These are questions that have been floating around my mind over the past few years. Growing up liberal in a conservative state, I often looked to activists with confusion. While I often believed in the platforms around which they spoke, activists, in my head, were rabble-rousersor more appropriately, they were radicals. In my head, activists were people who challenged the status quo not because they cared, but because they wanted the attention or because they wanted to make trouble. I would wonder why we would need to challenge the status quowhy did feminists make such a big deal out of womans’ equality? I felt I was treated equallywhy would other people not? I understood that there was inequality in the world, but couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that it lived in my world. I thought activism was a thing of the past.
the origins of misconception Having gone to the same private school for 14 years, in my mind, inequality existed out
there and not in here. I could not understand the interconnected nature of these spaces, out there and in here. I could not see how my own beliefs, frameworks and perceptions contributed to the fact that out there and in here were categories at all. Inequality thrives off of misunderstandings like my own. It wasn’t until college, when I left my bubble, that I came to terms with certain facts that I had been misunderstanding for so long. Where I once interpreted activism as a way of creating rifts in a community, associating it with aggression and trouble, my time in college helped me to understand its necessary role as a prophetic activity- as a way of calling out the entitlement given to the status quo, and as a way of challenging the givenness of it. Leaving that bubble I came to see- we are not post-racial, we are not post- inequality and more importantly, poverty, non-legalized segregation and inequality more broadlythese things are not to be attributed to “the way things are.” Not knowing any other way, I realize I grew up thinking that the world is as it is. I did not know that it could be transformed along these lines- I did not know that the mind frame I had cultivated was one that kept these status quo in its place.
my place & posture I say all of this before diving into my discussion
of Heat Week because I think my story can shine light on my particular approach to activism. As someone who understands what it feels like to experience doubt and suspicion in the face of activism, my approach to activism is as participant, translator, and observer. My questions when engaging in activism are: what can I do to communicate the message of this group to a different group that may be in opposition to it? How can I make it clear that we are not talking as enemies, but as partners? In the case of green activism- how can I make it clear that I do not think this issue is about who is a better or worse person, but rather, this issue is about discovering our own interconnectedness and our power to shape the lives of each other and the space that surrounds us? My time at Harvard Heat Week, in addition to many of our class discussions, has led me to really think hard about this question. Reading No Impact Man in particular, drew my attention to the ways in which this we/them construct solidifies itself in my consciousness. If that is the frame from which I am engaging others- it will not work.
“The world grows smaller and smaller, more and more interdependent‌ today more than ever before life must be characterised by a sense of Universal R e s p o n s i b i l i t y, not only nation to nation and human to human, but also human to other forms of life.â€? - His Holiness the XIV Dalai Lama
heat week through my lens While I was not a primary organizer of Harvard Heat Week, I attended many of the week’s events as a photojournalist and a participant. Being able to engage an experience through my camera as well as through my interactions with others was a true gift. Photography allows me to slow down moments, to zoom in on the multiplicity of things happening at any given moment- to see the macro and the micro of a situation. It was a meaningful experience for me to dive into grassroots activism with this lens. Taking photographs at Heat Week gave me the opportunity to both listen and see deeply. Photographing speakers, I paid close attention to their motions, gestures, speech patterns, careful to capture the energy of the individual and the group as a whole. During the Vigil for example, it was very dark and hard to capture any light for the photographs. I did not want to use the flash on the camera because I felt it would disrupt the moment. Instead of finding an external source of light, I asked myself – what is the feeling that I’m trying to capture here? What am I feeling in this space right now?
The words that came to me at that moment were: present, heartful, connected and still. The photographs I took on the night of the first vigil represent this feeling of calm and wakefulness. I went in not knowing what exactly was going to happen and I left feeling grateful for those who shared the space with me. My favorite photographs from this night are of an assortment of hands holding the small electric flames. Though the flames provided very little light, I would not have been able to capture many photos at all had it not been for them. The flames, while small, enabled me to get just enough light to take photos that would be legible. What a poignant metaphor, I thought to myself as I took the photos. Even with very little light coming from each person’s hand- together, we can create ample energy to support and make assessable, the beauty around us. As you can see in the photograph above, for example, without the light of the flames from the people surrounding this hand, we would not be able to see the outline of the hand - it would blend in with the night. This was not the activism that I’d grown up suspicious of. Instead, this was careful,
thoughtful, interested activism. This was
things on my own. While I work to be deeply
taking time to breathe and to recognize the
attuned to the situation around me, I often
need for beauty, love and respect in times of
loose sight of the feelings within myself. For
challenge.
Harvard Heat Week in particular, I choose to
CHALLENGES as a photographer
take some time to participate sans-camera.
While photography does allow me to ‘zoom in’ on the feelings, expressions and activities of others, it does inhibit me from experiencing
Unlike my traditional approach to activismdocumenting and creating- I chose to take some time- not to step back, but to step in.
heat week through my eyes In light of many of the conversations that we’ve had on discussion boards and in class this semester, an aspect of Heat Week which was particularly inspiring to me was the way the group focused on pressuring the corporation of Harvard, rather than condemning every individual in sight for not properly recycling or for driving cars. This is significant. So much of what we have discussed this semester calls our attention to the need for a new approach to climate activism. We have come to understand that ‘calling people out’ rather than ‘calling them in’ (blaming rather than claiming) is not an effective mechanism for change- especially given the fact that each of us is culpable in this challenge. Heat Week, as a divestment campaign, calls our attention to an entity that, on a large scale, contributes to the injustice of climate change. The protests did not target individual people as being the primary culprits of climate devastation. Instead, the message of the protests sought to:
1. Call attention to the issue raising awareness 2. Demand Justice by divestment 3. Invite others through public displays and trainings 4. create a movement via all of the above As a protester at Heat Week, then, I felt as
though I was working to share my knowledge with others rather than to shove it in their faces, as I used to think activists did (as I’ve discussedI was wrong). The presence of Heat Week protesters was obvious, but not intimidatingthe spirit was generous, the mission inclusive. Being a part of a collaborative group seeking to compassionately challenge a corporation by calling attention to the immediacy of the matter, and the explicit injustices that define it, felt powerful to me. It was also amazing to see alums, friends, outside community members and Harvard students gathered together to promote the cause of our threatened states of health and wellbeing. I was inspired by the energy of the group as a whole, which I read as being artful, articulate, collaborative and organized. It was moving to bear witness to the organizing practices of the college students- the teach-ins, the largegroup activities, the overnights and the vigils. All of these pieces fit together with ease- all of them invited different types of people with different strengths to engage and witness the process. At Heat Week, as a photographer and a participant I felt welcome, engaged and a part of something.
“Harvard Spring” Questions & challenges 7 of us walked over to the yard for the final student rally on Thursday. Scheduled during our normal meeting time, my book club decided it would be a good opportunity for us to show up and support an aspect of the work that we’d been exploring all semester. Questions that came up in our book club were similar to those that we’ve discussed in class: How do we activate our activism? How do we make sure that we’re doing more than talking about pressing issues and social justice? The group headed over with these questions in mind. When we got to the rally, the spirit of the group was jovial but also serious. Students were posting cards up along the walls of Massachusetts Hall, decorating the statue in front of it with symbols of the oil companies it supported. After students spoke, many Harvard students gathered together, joining hands to form a human chain around the building. The chain lasted about 10 minutes in total and was not meant to disrupt the public for longer than that. Some students were giggly, others somber, and some in between. I was photographing this portion of the event, so I do not know what it felt like to be a part of this chain of individuals. As an outsider, however, I was slightly
perplexed. On the one hand, the chain was a public statement- a work of art. In this sense, I’m not sure that it matters if all students were on the same page about what the chain meant or why it was happening. It was a moment of solidarity and a way for students to come out and show support, even if they don’t quite know what for, or if they don’t quite know how to support the cause on their own. On the other hand- what and who was this chain really for? The professor who leads our book club graduated from Harvard about 10 years ago. After leaving the chain, we gathered in our own circle to reflect on our experiences. She joked- “I feel like if we wrote a book about Harvard Activism it would be called, ‘Harvard Springs’.” I was confused by her comment. She continued- “I’m just not sure what any of this means anymore. I have been seeing this since I was a student here- I’m just not sure that it really ever changes much.” While direct policy has not shifted for Harvard due to these protests, others argue that it is the symbolism of the event that matters. Eric Hendey of the Harvard Political Review notes that, “The evidence from South Africa suggests that divestment, while ineffective in a financial sense, can have an impact by shaping public discourse. If universities across the country divested, this
would again be the case.”1 Hendey’s suggestion helps to reframe the purpose of the movement from one that could be ‘lost or won’ to one that is successful in so far as it is a statement that could create ripple effects for other communities. This framing can help answer questions like my professors. Is there an ultimate policy change at this moment? Perhaps not- is there a movement on the rise? More likely so. Other questions that came up in the group were: who was this protest for? The Students? The Movement? The Ego? The Cause?The most cynical perspective offered questioned whether this was merely an extracurricular activity for some students- a way to say they did something meaningful on a Thursday afternoon, without really knowing what the movement was about. I’m not sure if I agree with this, because I think no matter what, showing up and representing your community does have an impact on the messaging of something like Heat Week; it says- people care, people are involved, but this belief does not keep me from wondering myself, how we can take energy like that and continue to organize it, to push it forward, and to make others learn to care more? 1. Hendey, Eric. “Does Divestment Work?” The Institute of Politics at Harvard University. Harvard Political Review, 2015. Web. 13 May 2015.
building community Members of Divest also had a table out, where they were explaining to newcomers what the movement was about. I wondered whether this was enough. I’m not sure if this happened, but it would have been interesting if students could have had a small bulleted take-away from the event saying
1) Who we are 2) Why we are doing this work 3) Why we must do this work 4) Here are some ways you can support and follow up. Handing out this type of message on recycled paper, might have given others a way to continue to support even after they had participated in the chain (though I do recognize the Irony of using paper handouts here). The reason I think some sort of move like this would be important, is because without follow up (I know there are emails- but people often delete those), how do students unfamiliar with the meat of the protest know what to do next? In other words, what happens when the chain breaks? How do we build a community that is sustainable around this project? This week there will be another protest at Mass Hall. I look forward to exploring this question further after it. Who shows up? New people? The same people? Why?
in conclusion Among many of the authors we read this semester, Joanna Macy’s work on interconnectedness stands out to me when I reflect on the power of spirituality and sight in the eco movement. She writes, “a blind person with a cane is walking along the sidewalk. Tap, tap, whoops there’s a fire hydrant, there’s a
curb. Who is doing the walking? Where is the self of the blind person?...The self-corrective feedback circuit includes the arm, the hand, the cane, the curb, and the ear…”1 Using Macey’s framework, it is easier to reflect on the constructed nature of ‘one self ’ both for the eco movement and for visions of reality 1 Macy, Joanna. “The Greening of the Self.” Spiritual Ecology: The Cry of the Earth, a Collection of Essays. N.p.: n.p., n.d. N. pag. Print.
more generally. We participate in protest and
symbiotic.”2 A movement like Heat Week is powerful
activism in order to reflect the vastness that is
because it does not condemn individuals for an action
the actual self.
to which they could reply “well then tell me WHAT TO DO?” Heat Week was strategic in its approaches to
Just as the blind person in Macey’s example is
asking for direct change, while also realizing that this
moved by the touch of her cane on the ground,
was not only about the ask, but also the art. Heat Week’s
so too are we moved by each other in this
public displays of care, intention and community
movement and in this life. This comes back
helped to communicate to others, the brilliance of a
to my understanding of activism as needing
movement, and the capacity to create ripple effects
to be grounded in compassionate approaches
around any issue to which we put our minds.
to action. This does not mean we cannot be angry, but rather that we must use our anger in different ways. If I yell at someone for throwing their trash on the ground- if I call that person stupid, my energy is transmitted to them. In such a case, I am just as culpable for their actions as they are, because I have treated them not with understanding, but with my own reactivity. Just as the person feels the cane, whoever I yell at will feel my anger (which I felt as a result of their action).
“The self is a metaphor. we can choose to limit it to our skin, our person, our family, our organization, or our species. We can select its boundaires in objective reality. ”
Nothing lives in isolation. Our energy impacts everyone. Macey articulates this beautifully when she writes, “We have imagined that we are a unit of survival... in reality, through
- Joanna macy the greening of the self
the history of evolution it is the individual plus the environment, the species plus the
environment, for they are essentially 2 Macy, Joanna. “The Greening of the Self.” Spiritual Ecology: The Cry of the Earth, a Collection of Essays. N.p.: n.p., n.d. N. pag. Print.
Green Buddhism Alexa Kutler Landscapes filled with diverse colors and lives Are tortured by humans who’s Carbon, like knives Cuts through the flesh of Earth’s biosphere Contaminating our planet and the things we hold dear. There’s a link in the chain that we often seem to miss All humans play a role in disturbing Earth’s bliss. Now all through this course, looking from the top (Crude meat production and Indulgence and Consumption and Oil and Super Cities and Hunger and Melting Ice Caps and Wildfires, Greenhouse Effect,I gnoranceluxuryPUMPINGCAROBONfasterandfasterexploitation) !POP! We find our selves asking when and how this will stop. Nothing can prevent us from turning around It is only a matter of seeing what we have found We humans have an amazing gift, We create and destroy: its our potential to shift. Our own existence now rests in our hands: The ability to cultivate and protect the Earth’s lands. Together we’ll work towards a future that’s bright But not so hot that it burns out our light. Together we’ll see that there’s a way to become More than ourselves and yet still only One.
“When we look deeply into a flower, we see the elements that have come together to allow it to manifest. We can see clouds manifesting as rain. Without the rain, nothing can grow. When I touch the flower, I’m touching the cloud and touching the rain. This is not just poetry, it’s reality.”
-Thich Nhat Hanh
Thank You!