This newspaper is a conversation.
Much like the conversations happening everywhere. People are sitting together at mealtime; gathering in the break room at work; lingering over a coffee, occupying government plazas, or resting in the shade and they’re talking about how things have gone so strikingly sour in the economy. Inspired by all this, we made an opportunity a few weeks ago for people in the place where we live (the Twin Cities) to pull these discussions out of their private spheres and into the public. It’s not winter yet, after all, so we organized for folks to gather at Peavey Plaza in downtown Minneapolis to talk. We gave the event a name, FINANCIAL ENGAGEMENT: A Public Thing, ESTABLISHED a basic PARTICIPATORY FRAMEWORK and opened up the space. Our driving philosophy was simple: Everyone has questions
about the state of our economy and the burgeoning movement to make it better; and everyone has knowledge to share. We don’t just have to listen to the experts interviewed on the radio to understand what is going on. we can learn equally important information from people living around us who may or may not be getting by. And more crucially, we can strategize creative ways to get through and beyond this mess.
These pages also ask a lot of questions. They reflect the myriad movements afoot today: the Occupy encampments, organizing against foreclosures, Bank Transfer Day, equity work, etc. All of these agitations are forming a new politic that no longer depends on elected officials to make the changes we need to see now.
This paper is being distributed at sites of consumption in time for Black Friday. It’s also being postMuch of the content in this paper ed online at apublicthing.org. As comes directly out of the con- economists anticipate whether versations we had on November Americans will spend more or 5TH. We invited anyone to submit less to kick off the shopping seasomething after the gathering. son, we’re on the streets passing The results fill up these pages. around the currency of informaHere in ink people are talking tion. about communes, about peaceful organizing, about how to break Enjoy! up with your bank, about underwater mortgages, about feeling ashamed and empowered.
“Debt is a language not of economics but of morality.� -David Graeber
from: Jaimie Stevenson < xxxxxx.xxxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > to: Colin Kloecker < xxxxx.xxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx >, Shanai Matteson < xxxx.xxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > date: Mon, Oct 31, 2011 at 4:32 PM subject: oakland >> mpls dears colin + shanai, greetings from the east bay, greater san francisco, california. you’re on my mind today as i’ve discovered that a man i share an office with is, in his extra-office existence, creating an Occupied Oakland Tribune newspaper to distribute to the masses during the 11/2 General Strike in Oakland this week. it’s modeled off of OWS’s Occupied Wall Street Journal, and making me recall piles and piles of Art Work circulating during We Work Here. (I will always always be sorry that I had to be out of town during that project: I would have loved to be its documentarian.) i’m curious if you two have been participating in Occupy MN, what you’ve been seeing, and if anyone is printing a rag up there as a place for slow-mo public discourse. i did see the TC Runoff’s coverage of Occupy MN’s observance of Columbus/Indigenous Peoples’ day, but haven’t heard much else about what’s up in the MN capital. the mainstream news coverage of has been really disheartening. the followup to last week’s violent clashes with police on tuesday was a spectacularly peaceful turnout of 2 to 3 thousand people (yea, precise right?) for a 4.5 hour long general assembly on wednesday night. that was the night the GA passed the proposal for a general strike, in a process in which over 1600 people cast a “vote.” it included two rounds of breaking out to groups of twenty, with representatives reporting back to the whole group. (goosebumps, tears, giddy smiles, elation, all part of the scene.) it was an incredible about-face from the previous night, but I cannot find that story anywhere. all the radio and print coverage I can find from the following days talks about tuesday’s violence, wednesday’s potential for violence, and (eventually) word about the action for a general strike, but NOTHING about the orderliness or peacefulness of the proceedings of the 4.5 hour general assembly. it’s really been getting to me. thus, i inquire about alternative newspapers! i hope you guys are doing well. i am really curious about how you, Works Progress, and your other projects are responding to Occupy everything. i’ll live in mpls again before too long. i miss it so. love, jaimie from: Colin Kloecker < xxxxx.xxxxxxxx@xxxxx.xxx > to: Jaimie Stevenson < xxxxxx.xxxxxxxxx@xxxxx.xxx > cc: Shanai Matteson < xxxx.xxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > date: Mon, Oct 31, 2011 at 5:09 PM subject: oakland >> mpls Hi Jamie, So nice to hear from you! Your email is about as timely as can be. A Public Thing is a project we conceived of and launched last week (with the help of an awesome team of collaborators), with inspiration from OWS. Our first gathering will be this Saturday in Peavey Plaza in downtown Minneapolis and is on the theme of financial independence/interdependence. And guess what, it’s a newspaper project! We hope to have our first publication out by Black Friday. It’s intentionally not directly associated with Occupy MN. For better or for worse, we wanted to create a public space and framework that was more neutral. It’s less protest and more proactive community conversation. So far, the neutral, open tone we’ve set has been successful in getting certified financial planners, lawyers who work in debter’s rights, and community development people interested in participating. I’d be interested in your thoughts on pros and cons of associating a public gathering/publication project like A Public Thing directly within or outside of the OWS movement. Oakland has been on our minds a lot in the last 2 weeks, are you very involved? The GA last Wednesday sounds amazing. Maybe we can set up a Skype chat to check in sometime. We’re heading to Detroit to take part in, and help document, the PolicyLink Equity Summit and are pretty busy this week getting ready. What are you up to mid-November? We’ll be in the thick of prepping our publication and it might be fun to tell you how it’s all going. Stay well, Colin Kloecker Works Progress ( xxx ) xxx - xxxx from: Jaimie Stevenson < xxxxxx.xxxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > to: Colin Kloecker < xxxxx.xxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > cc: Shanai Matteson < xxxx.xxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > date: Mon, Oct 31, 2011 at 6:34 PM subject: oakland >> mpls A Public Thing sounds spot-on. As usual, the perspective that Works Progress brings to big issues (but somehow on the small scale of my life, and I imagine the scale of a lot of others’) is so refreshing. I have been feeling somewhat conflicted about whether or not Occupy Oakland is a neutral forum, and about how participating in GAs a/effects my integrity as a journalist. My impression is that the tone of things in Oakland is a lot more aggressive than Occupations elsewhere right now in direct response to violence last week. Here Occupy is rallying against a strong tradition and tolerance for police brutality here, as well as the huge and deeply disempowered (not the best word, passive voice, but it’s close) black and brown communities in Oakland. City Council voted to close 5 more public schools last week, and police operations, social services, and sorts of other publicly-funded anythings, suffer continuous budget cuts. It’s alarming to acknowledge the extent of individuals’ financial dependence on the state, and it gets at one aspect of what you’re talking about. I won’t be there for A Public Thing, but I would love to hear how newspaper production is going via Skype. I’ll be interested in how your group decides to produce the printed paper, and whether it is composed only of documentary work from Nov 5, or if there might be room for a dispatch from Oakland. If I could get my head around this in the next 24 hours, perhaps I could walk into the General Strike on Wednesday with a voice recorder and an outline for an interview, and talk to people about the personal topic of financial independence/ interdependence. I suspect this would weed out some of the more grandiose and less real postulations about what the hell is going on. Depending on the outcome, would you guys be interested in a faraway take on the same/similar questions? I am certain I would find use for the recordings some where some day, so no pressure. Thanks for the speedy response. It’s exciting to hear about what you’re up to. from: Colin Kloecker < xxxxx.xxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > to: Jaimie Stevenson < xxxxxx.xxxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > cc: Shanai Matteson < xxxx.xxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > date: Mon, Oct 31, 2011 at 6:44 PM subject: oakland >> mpls Thanks for the feedback, we’re really excited to see how it all goes!
We’re having a meeting tomorrow morning to talk about the publication, and give it some form. I think a dispatch from Oakland would be really interesting, but I wonder if we should also have a dispatch from our own Occupy movement here in MN (it could also be framed differently... more of a national perspective thing, less about OWS). I’ll bring it up at the meeting and see what people think. Let’s talk in mid-November either way! Colin Kloecker Works Progress ( xxx ) xxx - xxxx from: Jaimie Stevenson < xxxxxx.xxxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > to: Colin Kloecker < xxxxx.xxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > cc: Shanai Matteson < xxxx.xxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > date: Tue, Nov 1, 2011 at 11:59 AM subject: oakland >> mpls Hi guys, A agree that a dispatch from Oakland might be hard to contextualize in a conversation born in MN. Do you imagine multiple editions of the newspaper that comes out of A Public Thing? I was sitting in the crowd at last night’s General Assembly with the questions you’re raising about personal finance, shame, reimagining responsibility, etc, running through my mind and in conversation with my guy, Jesse. I’ve been meandering through the last few weeks on the edge of viewing myself as active in all this, and as an observer (journalist style). Thinking about Occupy Oakland through the perspective of those questions is clarifying some of my unsettled feelings about the scope and accessibility of the movement here: your premise seems to narrow the conversation to individual experience, while widening it to validate any person’s perspective. Funny how that works. This might be an imposing proposition, but I’m going to venture to make it at the risk of stepping on your toes—I am curious if you would be comfortable with me going into the “General Strike” tomorrow with an interview built off of the questions behind A Public Thing. No promises from me about the outcome, and no obligation from you about finding use for it. With race and racism driving a lot of the class-based conversation in Oakland, and with the Occupy movement having a largely-white profile, even here, it is incredible to think about the possibility of creating an interview that does not alienate people based on race. I think the questions you’re using to explore A Public Thing might succeed at this. I understand if you would like to preserve these questions for use in MN for the time being. But I ask because I also imagine you might think it’s OK. I look forward to hearing back. All my best, Jaimie from: Shanai Matteson < xxxx.xxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > to: Jaimie Stevenson < xxxxxx.xxxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > cc: Colin Kloecker < xxxxx.xxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > date: Tue, Nov 1, 2011 at 12:08 PM subject: oakland >> mpls Jaimie, Go for it, please! And let us know what you learn. This could be a way to generate a dispatch that resonates. Thanks for your note, and sorry I have not chimed in sooner - but am thankful for your perspective! -Shanai from: Colin Kloecker < xxxxx.xxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > to: Jaimie Stevenson < xxxxxx.xxxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > cc: Shanai Matteson < xxxx.xxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > date: Tue, Nov 1, 2011 at 12:08 PM subject: oakland >> mpls More then OK, that sounds amazing. Do it! We talked about how to handle “outside” content at this morning’s meeting, and about how to acknowledge that an important part of this conversation is happening through the Occupy movement here and around the world. We can’t guarantee that your dispatch would be included in the frame of our first publication, but there will be more issues/editions/volumes, and we would definitely LOVE to put it online. We’ll potentially be building out the website after we get the first publication out to include a much more diverse array of voices and this could be a spectacular addition to that. Thanks for your energy! Wish you were here. Let us know how it goes! Colin Kloecker Works Progress ( xxx ) xxx - xxxx from: Jaimie Stevenson < xxxxxx.xxxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > to: Colin Kloecker < xxxxx.xxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > cc: Shanai Matteson < xxxx.xxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > date: Tue, Nov 1, 2011 at 2:24 PM subject: oakland >> mpls Yes! I will be really curious to see how the questions evolve on the ground in BOTH places. I will keep you abreast of what I find tomorrow and beyond. One challenge for me, as usual, will be to distill a lot of information into simple sentences (though a complex narrative is ok) so I will think about lots of possible ways to explore the body of interviews with both writing and audio. Thanks for your willingness to share this stuff. What a roundabout way of strengthening my tethers to mpls, though they’re hardly weak. JJJJaimie
from: Jaimie Stevenson < xxxxxx.xxxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > to: Colin Kloecker < xxxxx.xxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > cc: Shanai Matteson < xxxx.xxxxxxxx @ xxxxx.xxx > date: Tue, Nov 8, 2011 at 6:15 PM subject: oakland >> mpls I am sorry for the delay in writing. I was preoccupied with this (bit.ly/rSsLhV) and all things this (bit.ly/o9PY03). California is not the bomb, but I’ve got a few real cool things going on while I’m here. I learned a lot by interviewing people during the Oakland “General Strike.” I learned that I had forgotten that there is a big difference between journalistic reporting and collecting oral histories. The premise with which I approached the interviews ran on assumptions and beliefs that wouldn’t have flown if it had been straight journalistic reporting. I typically don’t have a hard time approaching subjects, but I experienced a lot of hesitation in picking folks out of the huge crowd to interview about a set of ideas that was already so well developed. In a lot of senses, I realized that I was there to affirm a set of beliefs expressed in the questions A Public Thing raises, rather than discovering those beliefs. The interviews did an okay job at illustrating some individual portraits, but still felt at least a little bit contrived. Throughout the day I found myself wanting to post up with a booth and a big sign, inviting people to come talk by their own motivation to share and dialogue. This could have gotten a bit closer to the type of open forum you’ve facilitated in MPLS, and which I now realize is a far safer place to talk about these issues than a 1-on-1 interview. Early on in the day, I shifted the tone of the interview I’d outlined because I wasn’t getting enough of a rise out of people. I wanted people to talk about the guilt, embarrassment, secrecy, shame they may or may not have been in the process of easing, in the company of ten thousand folks who were also admitting to financial dependence and despair and disdain. You and I both acknowledged that Occupy was getting folks to realize the guilt they’d internalized as personal failure is actually a part of a very public system. But “interviewing” folks on this topic is a lot different from providing public space for “discussion” on this topic, as I said above. As an interviewer, I’m pretty okay at making people feel comfortable in talking with me, but I realized that I needed to make them feel uncomfortable. I needed to trigger some of the discomfort I was interested in hearing about. So I started asking first: “Are you in debt?” “How long will it take you to get out?” and then: “Where do you go to to learn about managing your finances? And the financial economy?” It helped. The two most interesting interviews are recordings with a woman named Dottie and a man named Orlando. She is a member of the organization Veterans Against the Iraq War, and he is a member of a local roofers’ union. If I am smart, I’ll go back to each of them in six months or so to check in on their story. I’m sending you three audio files via yousendit; the first two are with Dottie, the third is Orlando. Interview questions included the following, but I did not use them all in every conversation: + Name + age + How long have you been living in Oakland? + Are you in debt? + How long will it take you to get out? + Where do you go for resources about financial education? (reworded above) + What does financial dependence look like? Describe it. + How has OWS/OO affected the way you talk about money? + What financial responsibility weights most heavy on you? + How does your family and community support your financial burdens? + Would you describe yourself as financially independent or dependent? + Final Q: What’s the difference between a credit union and a bank? Ok, I could go on an on about this, but let’s start here. I’ve got a lot of thinking to do about what to make of what I found. Let’s keep talking about it. Thanks so much for sending me off with your good will—
Jaimie Stevenson is a freelance journalist and Story Editor at Once (oncemagazine.com). She lives in Oakland, California. Excerpts from the interviews mentioned above can be found at apublicthing.org. Colin Kloecker and Shanai Matteson are Co-Directors of Works Progress, a Minneapolis-based public art and design studio. worksprogress.org
â&#x20AC;&#x153;Anyone who believes exponential growth can go on forever in a finite world is either a madman or an economist.â&#x20AC;? -Kenneth Boulding (as quoted in The Great Disruption)
Lisa Steinmann is a journalist, teacher and a student of philanthropy. She loves a good story. wordcanoe.com
Personal Finance Becomes a Public Thing at Peavy Plaza on Bank Change Day By Lisa Steinmann
A woman sat in one corner of Peavey Plaza, along the Nicollet Mall, at a foot-pedal sewing machine sewing dollar bills end to end, as a crowd of about 50 people assembled to discuss money on Bank Change Day. The woman, Rachel Breen, was one of several artists who was there as part of Financial Engagement: A Public Thing. An event organized by artists and journalists who wanted to start a public conversation on the state of the economy. As one of the organizers, Colin Kloecker, explained to the crowd, “We’re not an organization but we all agree that the economy needs deep organizational change.”
difference between a credit union and a bank? Should student things by doing this?” A list of other things people could do loans be forgiven? What is income vs. wealth? What financial centered on supporting local businesses for everything from education resources are available? What is possible?” holiday shopping to getting a pair of shoes repaired. Although most in my group seemed to agree, someone noted, “We don’t Following introductions, Kloecker explained that we would be all have to agree. Just getting involved and getting political rhetusing the Open Space Technology model for a public discus- oric out of the decision-making will help.” sion. Peavey Plaza became a sort of conference room with people gathered in circles to discuss various questions gener- A trumpet sounded to signal the end of small group discusated by individuals in the crowd. A number of people there sions. Each group reported back. When everyone was finished had signed on as “documentarians.” Armed with cameras, there was applause. Matteson announced that the discussion notepads and recording devices, they collected stories for a was perhaps the first in what may turn into a series of public newspaper about the event. conversations organized in this collaborative way. In a final artistic touch, the cardboard letters that had been used to identify Sarah Peters, the editor, explained that the Financial Engage- discussion groups were assembled as everyone gathered on the ment/A Public Thing newspaper will be available online at the plaza for a group photo. They spelled out, A Public Thing. ◊ end of November and that it is also going to be printed and distributed to the public on Black Friday, the big shopping day after Thanksgiving. This article appeared in the online edition of the Twin Cities Daily Planet on November 9th, 2011. A half dozen groups gathered around individuals who stepped forward with questions. Each group was identified by a big cardboard sign with a letter on it. The group I sat in on was moderated by Molly, who asked “What are some practical, everyday things I can do to contribute to a better economy?” During the course of an hour, the group of mostly young adults, shared questions and brainstormed answers on the topic. Notes were taken so that representatives from each group could report back to the whole group.
Kloecker, along with Shanai Matteson from Works Progress and Sarah Peters and Molly Priesmeyer (Good Work Group), Sam Gould (Red76), Molly Balcom Raleigh, and other artists and writers, put the event together following their own conversations sparked by Bank Change Day. Bank Change Day, which originated on Facebook, has become the crest of a wave of consumer action to switch accounts from big banks to credit unions and small, locally based, nonprofit banks. The event began shortly after 1 p.m., Shanai Matteson directed introductions as those assembled gathered in a circle. Everyone had put on nametags that had a spot for their name, what they wanted to know “about the state of our economy and how to make it better” and what they knew, “because “everyone has knowledge to share,” according to Matteson.
The topic for discussion was open but Matteson read out loud a list of questions to get the conversation going, “How does our economy work? What are some strategies for creating more ec- The discussion ranged from options when changing banks to onomically sustainable families and communities? What is the wondering, as one participant asked, “Are we really changing
Lost in (Economic) History by Greg Laden
Greg Laden is a biological anthropologist, writer, and blogger who can be read at scienceblogs.com/gregladen and freethoughtblogs.com/xblog. He lives and works in the northern reaches of the Twin Cities.
After Financial Engagement: A Public Thing, I had the occasion to drive along Highway 55 from Minneapolis to the western suburbs. It is always a nostalgic drive for me because when I first moved to the Twin Cities 15 years ago I stayed at motel at the corner of Highways 55 and 100 while searching for an apartment.
Cheap hydroelectric power harnessed by modern turbines under emerging brick mills filled with rural transplants, mostly women and children, losing the occasional finger or hand to the machinery, but driving a brave new economy with the production of cloth or flour or other things. Back then water allowed only a certain amount of growth, so it was supplemented with coal-powered steam engines running the mill’s machines.
The way it was was the way it should be. Invest in industry. Invest in infrastructure. Invest in gold. Invest in energy. Invest in the money market. Invest in property. Timeless guaranteed investments. Nothing can ever go wrong.
One of the most recent drivers of our economy was housing. If you could buy a house, you were in like Flynn. Your house would magically increase in value, and on that value you could Finding a place to live in those days was difficult because the borrow to make new bathrooms or paint the outside so its population of the Twin Cities had grown quickly, mainly due value would increase again. That was a large part of your to immigration from all over the country, which was, in part, In just a few years coal became the main form of energy in investment. It was fairly easy, it could never go wrong, it was the result of thriving businesses. Wells Fargo, Medtronic, 3M, the mills, and a whole new economy emerged, devoted to mostly legal, and all the smart people were doing it. Hydroeven the University of Minnesota, were all expanding, hiring, mining and moving the coal itself. Homes lit by burning talpowered textile mills; coal, then diesel-driven trains running growing, spending, and creating a building boom. low and whale oil became brighter with the introduction of on tracks, with hundreds of miles added every day; the exogas lines and lamps, and soon the streets glowed at night in These days, when I drive out along Highway 55, most of the London, New York, and Minneapolis. Eventually liquid petro- dus from palatial farm to satanic mill; the War; the TVA and buildings I see are new, built after my time in that run down leum drove industrial engines, eventually fueling cars, furnaces the WPA and the CCC; the Other War; mass production of labor saving devices; and eventually housing and houses. motel, which is itself long gone, replaced with new developin our homes, and power stations that, in turn, produced ment. Nothing about that drive is familiar now, except for the electricity to make our homes even brighter. The whales let Rainbow Foods, which had been built around the time of my out a sigh of relief, the astronomers were annoyed at the light Then someone decided that the houses had no value. The pollution, and we became a partly nocturnal species for the market did not crash, it simply went away. Today my family arrival, and an old beat up strip mall from the mid-twentieth owes tens of thousands, and my wife and I sleep in the living century. The area was once wilderness, a few farms, the usual first time ever. room because we can’t move to a place that is a little larger. lakes. Then, Boom! Buildings everywhere. Since those first decades of the nineteenth century, every But we are very happy for the rich people who seem to have accumulated the value that was our house, and we have faith The funny thing is that today many of those buildings are for decade has been distinctly different from the last. As one that some day... their wealth will trickle. On us. Correct? sale, vacant, or for lease. There are even buildings built in the form of energy wanes, another becomes more prominent. What drives the economy changes as one thing is replaced last ten years that are at risk of deterioration through disuse. with another. It was a good idea for 40 or so people to get together in And it isn’t even a particularly depressed part of town. Minneapolis and to engage in conversation about financial It seems that civilization, and its economy, are like the prover- Perhaps it was human capital harnessed in those factories, or matters and the economy. But it was also a deeply depressing bial river that you can’t step into twice: always there, but never infrastructure being built, or a war being won. Everything was event. the same. This has been true since the Industrial Revolution. always changing, and yet no one seemed to notice the change. (Continued on next page)
Cont’d... Lost in (Economic) History by Greg Laden
People talked about how an alternative economy might look, how a community could form that does not make any of the mistakes our society has made in recent decades. That’s nice. But why was that conversation not started, and why did that conversation not lead to change a century ago? Why are we not already living in that kind of community? People talked about how money moves, or does not move, in our economy in ways that sounded like magic. And others looked on in astonishment, “Is that where money comes from? Is that what money is?” How could a few dozen smart people, who gathered to talk about money in the very shadow of the edifices of our banks and large corporations in a downtown plaza in a major city, not already know precisely what money is, where it comes from, and how it works? People talked about what things can be done day to day to protect ourselves from corporate greed, and others tried to understand why we were not in the streets demanding that the right things be done. But why are these behaviors and requirements not already codified in our society and in our laws, not already part of our day to day activities?
ReMaking A Living by Shanai Matteson
I grew-up in poverty. This is not something I usually share when meeting people for the first time, or the second, or the third. It’s not that I’m ashamed of this experience, or aloof; it’s just that the subject rarely comes up in conversation. Among my friends and acquaintances—many of them artists or designers or other creative types whose identities are formed, at least outwardly, by their work—the economic realities of our private lives, past or present, are rarely brought to the table. The most common question we ask one another upon meeting is, What do you do for a living? Usually followed by some variation on, Where did you go to school? The assumption behind these questions, at least as I’ve experienced them, is that those of us working in creative fields are on a purposeful trajectory upward. First we decide what we want to be, then we learn what we need to learn; we work our way up some kind of ladder, and finally, we become what we want to become, in more or less that order. There are variations, of course.
I hear that step one is knowing that you have a problem. Only Maybe we don’t call it upward, exactly; Or our sights are not then can you begin to find ways to solve it. Only then can you set so high that we are required to climb; Some are smarter get help. Only then can you change anything. or more talented than others, and move faster through these steps; Others are better at networking, or better networked; and then there’s the recession, which threw a lot of people OK, so I’ll start. off track; though some have been struggling from the start, but anyway, it’s more or less the same narrative again and My name is Greg Laden and I am hopelessly lost in history, again. and I have no idea where I am going. OK, so who’s next? ◊
We are what we do for a living.
Shanai Matteson is Co-Director of Works Progress, a Minneapolisbased public art and design studio. worksprogress.org
If you deviate from this—for example, if your work is something that you don’t feel is important to your identity—there’s usually a moment of adjustment in the conversation, a moment when possibilities and questions are recalibrated. So, what do I do for a living? What am I doing right now? My job as Collaborative Director of Works Progress, a public art and design studio I co-founded, is a job I made-up and then worked into existence. I had the help of a whole group of collaborators, including my husband and creative partner, Colin Kloecker. I never studied for this, and it wasn’t a designation I attained after a proverbial climb up the ladder. I just decided that this was what I was going to do with my time and energy. I started telling other people, and after awhile of actually doing what I said I would, it started to seem real. This is an oversimplification, but it’s more or less how I see it. At the end of 2010, Colin and I quit our full-time jobs to pursue uncertain creative lives in an economy that everyone warned us was dead in the water. In retrospect, this was, and still is, a ridiculous prospect. We have no safety net or savings. When we quit our jobs, the recession was in full swing, many of our peers were unemployed, and we were leaving jobs that paid us well. Not great jobs, but creative jobs. Jobs we liked. More importantly, our jobs were secure because we were good at them, at least that’s what we were told. We were moving upward, on a trajectory, and everything seemed okay. (Continued on next page)
Cont’d... ReMaking A Living by Shanai Matteson
When I put in my notice and walked away from my good job into an occupation I’d made up, there were more than a few people who took me aside and told me that I was being irresponsible. I was committing career suicide: jumping off a bridge, hand in hand with my partner, into treacherous currents. I was lectured by at least one colleague that people my age, we were not going to have it easy in this new economy, so why imperil ourselves this way? Why choose uncertainty? There were also people standing on the edge, cheering us on and waiting to see if we sank or if we bobbed to the surface. They also talked about a different kind of path, of committing career suicide, and when we did it, the conversations we started having changed from What do you do for a living? to How does it feel? Given that I took a risk that was really unwise, but floated to the surface and am still treading water here, what difference does it make that my childhood was difficult? Does it matter that the first 22 years of my life were spent in and out of institutional waiting rooms, my name and social security number scrawled onto public assistance forms? That my parents both worked themselves into chronic exhaustion just to keep all of our heads above water? Does it matter that we were homeless at least three times? That my brother and I once vandalized the house our family had been evicted from, scrawling grafitti across the bedroom walls? That I used to be so angry that I couldn’t maintain relationships with good people? That I still have a chip on my shoulder, and from time to time, I’m reminded of this fact in jarring and unpredictable ways? That my dreams were limited to what I could imagine, and for most of my life, that was not very much?
On one hand, it makes no difference at all. Especially now, when the percentage of Americans who could tell the same or similar stories is steadily climbing. Poverty is becoming commonplace, not a mark of distinction, but another step on a steep climb downward, toward a bottom that no one is sure will hold.
our parents. What does that feel like?
On the other hand, it does matter. It matters because, although these experiences are increasingly common, they still create stories we rarely tell. For one reason or another, we just don’t talk about these things. They make us uncomfortable, or ashamed, or even angry. They confuse us with their non-linear realities, unexpected twists and turn. These realities about who we are and what we do to literally make our living, don’t always sound good on a résumé.
Maybe you had no safety net, and still don’t? Maybe you are the safety net for someone else?
When we decided to create a space at Peavey Plaza for people gather and to ask questions of one another, to talk through answers and to tell stories, our hope was that we would get beyond the usual narratives, whether that be stories we hear in the media about life and living, money and making it; or if that meant going deeper with the kinds of stories we tell one another as people who live together in this place.
And then suddenly, it is. ◊
One thing I have come to believe is be true: stories do matter, and they matter more when we tell them in public ways and places. When we tell personal stories in public, we open the possibility of communion, that someone else might find common ground with us, and through that, might feel less isolated, open to new possibilities of collective change. Your only common ground with me might be that you and I are both part of the first generation to have it worse off than
Or maybe you’ve also had the experience of putting all of your mental and physical energy into finding a way to bridge the chasm between paychecks, or the experience of elation when, for the 1000th time, you manage to figure it out?
Or maybe, you and I will find common ground in the experience of being young and brave, of engaging in the age-old occupation of making shit up as you go along, selling your dreams to others, convincing them to believe that what you envision for the world around you is really possible.
The following are short synopses of hour-long discussions that occurred on November 5th, 2011 as part of Financial Engagement: A Public Thing. Approximately 50 attendees at Peavey Plaza that afternoon helped to generate questions for discussion, then to self-organize into small groups based upon interests and knowledge. This process was facilitated using principles of Open Space Technology. Questions led to more questions.
Why don’t more people get involved with Occupy Wall Street and other movements to change the conversation in this country? Are we all too busy today? Is this busyness unique to America? Is this busyness unique to capitalism? Does activism fall by the wayside when we prioritize our jobs and our families? Do the problems being tackled by Occupy Wall Street and other movements seem so large that they can’t be overcome? Is the “I’m doing what I can?” mentality a barrier to collective action? Are we demoralized?
How can we approach questions of economic inequity and financial literacy through an intergenerational lens?
How can we have productive conversations across generations? What can we teach and learn from each other? What economic issues are specific to my generation? What can I learn from generations before or after my own? How can we think with an intergenerational perspective as well as a historical one? Do we frame this moment and the Occupy movement as a protest, or are we using the frames of a civil rights movement? Is social Do we lack stability? Does capitalism actively de- media a way to re-envision protest? What could stabilize our lives? What is it about work that adds that look like? to our sense of not having enough time? Was it always this way? Did people in the 30s or in the How do people on public assistance fit into the Occivil rights movement have more time to dedicate cupy movement? to movement building? To being involved? Are we just helpless? What is going to happen to Oc- Should those of us on public assistance have a cupy MN when it gets cold? The continuation of sense of shame? Where will we end up as a result these movements requires so many conversations, of the Occupy Wall Street movement? Should so much organizing, so many people, and where this be a time and place where we have a sense is this going to happen? What kinds of public of pride, even though we are receiving public spaces are we building for this to happen? assistance? Should taxpayers invest in children? Should we also invest in the parents that care for What can we do on a daily basis to not contribute them? Are we all part of this movement? Is part to the problem? How can we define the problem in of this movement that we get to reframe what is one paragraph or less? Why do we care? valuable? How can we change a system that has a very limited understanding of value? Are only What can we do to be informed? What can we do those who have money valuable? Can we take that that is action-oriented? How can we engage and frame and change it? Can we expand the notion not be complacent in the presence of financial in- of who is valuable? Are we already? stability? What can we do besides sleeping outside on the plaza? What can we do on a daily basis that What if economic growth and the idea of growth is sustainable and achievable? How do we acwas replaced by something different? What would a knowledge the 1% and the 99% imbalance? Is the steady state economy look like? entire structure of our financial system broken? Is it too big to fail? Is there too much that is beyond What would a society that is not based on ecothe grasp of most people? How about changing nomic growth look like? What should the econbanks, what difference will that make? Does your omy be doing, if not growing? What are the core bank invest in your community, or do the profits needs of people? Food? Shelter? Water? Comgo to wealthy shareholders somewhere else? How munity? A sense of place and belonging? Safety? can we let the banks know why we’re moving our Transportation? Communication? Energy? If we money? Can we spend our money in places that are going to have a steady state economy, one that share our values? What are those values? Where isn’t growing, won’t we need renewable energy? are those places? What about repairing things Will there be a transitional period of continued instead of spending money on new stuff ? Getgrowth while we invest in renewable energy? ting to know your neighborhood? Engaging with people around you, rather than just with things? Is it possible to limit population growth without What does it mean to be a thoughtful citizen? impinging on basic human rights? If we don’t limit population growth and people starve, is that What’s up with U.S. Bank? a breach of human rights? Do we have a moral responsibility to prevent this kind of catastrophe? In the foreclosure crisis, did some banks do more Is a steady state economy compatible with instruharm than others? Was U.S. Bank one of those mental pursuits? How do we provide for intellecbanks? Is it true that U.S. Bank was more contual growth, spiritual growth, personal growth, in servative, and did less damage than Wells Fargo a steady state economy, without consuming more and others? Should I leave U.S. Bank? What is the and more resources? Is our time up? benefit of switching to a credit union? Should I base my decision to switch banks on the personal impact I can make? Or should I switch in solidarity with a social movement I believe in? (* pg13)
What models of alternative economies might we look to? What are examples of communal living, and how can this help my family and our situation? What did I learn through living in communal situations? How did that experience shape my comfort level with talking about different types of communities? Is there a difference between communal living where you go to a place, bringing your skills, goods, and services to share with others, and through that sharing, building a community together; and a community that is separate and free-standing? What kinds of places are sprouting up? What’s happening in Occupy movements, libertarian movements, and other movement-based communities? What can we learn from these communities? Why are we dissatisfied with the communities we currently inhabit? Does it matter that we don’t know how to value one another and our contributions to our communities? Is it communal living we’re after, or just stronger communities? And if it is stronger communities, how can we come up with systems by which people can interact that may not be purely about monetary exchange? What are new ways of interacting with one another? What if, instead of building new communities, we work to create local forms of community within the system that we think is broken? Can we envision what it would be like to transform that system on a small, local level? A corporation writes our money. When are people going to reclaim the power of sovereignty? What do I mean by “a corporation writes our money?” Most of us have been to the bank to borrow money, correct? When the banker writes the check, where does the money come from? Is there a specific answer to this question? Where did the money come from to make that check good? Was that money invented out of thin air when the banker signed the check? Isn’t this what happens, more or less? If the bank borrows money into circulation, do they do it expecting that the money will be returned, plus interest? Where does the additional interest come from? Does that mean someone else had to borrow that money into existence? Is this cycle the engine that is driving us into debt? What’s the problem here? Thanks to Ryan Siebold for transcribing the day’s report back from which these questions were extracted.
Rather like marriages, banking relationships have gone on for years for many of us. Here is a letter that bank customers can use to communicate the reasons why one would “break-up” with a large financial institution. This communiqué, authored by Lisa Steinmann, came out of the group that discussed “What’s Up with U.S. Bank?”
Dear _________ Big Bank: I am transferring my money to my community credit union, and I would like to share with you the reasons why. I am being nicked every which way for fees by the same institution that was bailed out with my tax dollars, the same institution that continues to borrow money from the Feds at zero percent interest rate, the same institution that continues to pay its top executives big bonuses. I see no benefit from doing business with you. Times are tough. While big banks are trying to sustain big profits, individual citizens, like me, are simply trying to keep their heads above water. Consumer banking fees are at record high levels. Whether you’re charging me a monthly fee to spend my own money when I use a debit card or fining me if I don’t maintain a high balance in my accounts, your bank is profiting at my expense. Here are my reasons for moving my money to a community credit union: • My credit union is a not-for-profit institution. • Instead of making the bank work for stock holders, my credit union works for me. I’m a member and owner, and I have a say in decisions. • It offers a higher interest rates on savings accounts and CDs. • It offers lower interest rates on loan products and credit cards. • My credit union invests in my community without extending high interest loans to people who are ill equipped to pay them back. • [Add individual reason here.] What would it take to bring back my business? For starters, I suggest you and other big banks volunteer to pay a one percent fee on all non-consumer transactions and currency trades to do your part to pay down our federal debt. (Formerly) yours sincerely, ________________________ [Bank customer name here.]
Hi. My name’s Molly. And I have an underwater mortgage. By Molly Priesmeyer
Molly Priesmeyer is a freelance journalist living and working in Minneapolis, Minnesota. She is also a Co-Founder and Principal at Good Work Group. goodworkgroup.com
This Halloween I went out as the scariest thing I know. I went out as my underwater mortgage. I created a wave out of blue poster board and wore it as a tiara of sorts; I cut out tiny goldfish from construction paper and marked half-smiles on their little faces with a Sharpie; and I printed out a transfer of my home that I ironed on to a $2 blue T-shirt, which I plastered with CitiMortgage logos and a sign that said: You owe: $180,000. Your home’s value: $120,000 It wasn’t the most put-together piece at the party (I forgot my scuba mask!), but it drew perhaps the most mixed responses. Some people loved the conceptual costume. It was timely, after all, considering that nearly 30 percent of Americans owe more on their mortgages than their home is worth, according to a recent report from Zillow. (That’s up about 7 percent from this time last year.) But some people were visibly uncomfortable that I had festooned my underwater declaration so prominently to a T-shirt snared from a Michael’s craft-store bargain bin. “I feel so bad for you,” one woman said. “Your costume ruined my night. I feel sorry for you now,” said another. “That’s bold of you to admit that,” one guy told me. I immediately found myself recanting my own story, even though I was wearing it. “I’m not my mortgage, really. I am just an underwater mortgage! I’m your underwater mortgage, too! Don’t feel bad for me!” I don’t know why I did this. I am an outspoken person. But suddenly their concerns (or perhaps condescension and/or lack of sympathy?) made me feel like I showed up naked. I wanted to rip off the numbers I had taped to me. I wanted
to make myself generic. Strangely, a party with like-minded friends became an unsafe place for a discussion about (or even an acknowledgment of) an escalating issue affecting at least one in four Americans. One week later, at a Public Thing’s Financial Engagement event, about 50 people gathered at Peavey Plaza to open up larger discussions about our current economy, individual financial distress, and creative, alternative solutions to both. As small groups gathered for discussions, the bright sun cast long, dark shadows across the sunken plaza. It was an apropos setting for such an event. Because as Minnesotans, we tend to ignore the reality of dark shadows and chase the glow of our seemingly cloud-seeking sun. We don’t like to talk publicly (or see costumes about) things like underwater mortgages, government assistance, or personal poverty. This concept isn’t only true of Minnesota. All throughout the country there’s a pervasive sense that if you’re there, if you’re struggling or, worse yet, drowning, you must have forgone the life preserver when you jumped in the lake in favor of a cinderblock tied to your ankle. In other words, you must’ve done something to get in this deep. Despite a collective desire to better understand what got us all in this mess, most of the discussions and questions at Financial Engagement, however, never explored the concept of blame. There were no discussions centered on who/what is responsible for our current global economic crises, for example. There was little slinging of arrows at obvious targets. There
was no discussion focused on how to overturn Citizens United, the landmark 2010 Supreme Court decision that removed the ban on corporate political spending and has been a prominent issue at Occupy Wall Street. (Last year, President Obama said the ruling was “a major victory for big oil, Wall Street banks, health insurance companies and the other powerful interests that marshal their power every day in Washington to drown out the voices of everyday Americans.”) Instead, most of the conversations centered on macro questions and ideas; larger concepts and solutions about what we can do as individuals to work together to lessen the control of financial institutions and create efficient, compassionate, and sustainable communities: How can we live more thoughtfully and consciously? What is the end game of economic reform and justice? How can we better share our expertise and skills to create thriving communities? What would a self-sustaining community look like? Of course, these are large philosophical questions that don’t have immediate outcomes. But they can be starting points for larger conversations. They can be the impetus for discussions, ideas, sentiments, and goals and dreams that get carried over into our living rooms, our places of worship, our community centers, our workplaces, our neighborhoods, and our blocks. They can be sparks for ideas that change how we live and work together. Right now, some “experts” are telling me to walk away from my home—they’re telling me to pocket the $18,000 or so I’d spend on my mortgage this year. (Continued on next page)
Cont’d... My name’s Molly. And I have an underwater mortgage. By Molly Priesmeyer
They’re telling me to invest it in something more valuable, things like a money market fund that will have a faster rate of return. (The stock market! That’s the answer!) And as they’re telling me that I am currently ineligible to refinance despite the fact (or because?) I’ve never missed a payment, they’re showing me numbers that reveal that I could pay my mortgage for 10 more years and still be drowning in debt. Go ahead and run, their eyes say. But I can’t do that. Not because my house is so valuable to me. Because it’s not just the wood slats that have been scraped and painted three times over the last 10 years or the peonies that have been cut and placed in vases every Memorial Day for the last decade or the lilacs that extend their sweet perfume across the entire block every May or the hostas that poke their heads through the frozen earth every March like a promise never to be broken.
bors as they set up their holiday lights, I find myself afraid to talk with them about something that would affect us all. I feel their eyes on me sometimes, and I wonder if they’re thinking, “Can she afford that place on her own? What will happen to my home’s value if she forecloses?” I sometimes think that when they see me with a bag of groceries from the co-op, and a baguette from some French bakery poking out of it, they’re breathing a little sigh of relief: “Well, she can afford those groceries and a baguette, too!...And it looks like she’s still staying by herself...Maybe it’s a sign she won’t have to foreclose!”
Still, despite this fantastical (and totally insane) dialogue I think they have about me, I find myself afraid to reach out to talk with some of them. I find myself afraid to simply say: “Hi. My name’s Molly. And I have an underwater mortgage. I’m guessing you do, too. So what can we do together as neighbors--today, tomorrow, and the next day--to keep one It’s more than all of that. It’s about my community. My neigh- another from drowning?” ◊ bors. My block. My tiny little world I moved in to 10 years ago with the hopes of building a life. That life changed drastically over the last decade. People came and went. Money came and went. Dreams never came at all and some dreams I never knew showed up as a sweet surprise. But through it all I remained committed to the idea that I wanted to stay and be a part of something larger than me—larger than the life I built inside the warped plaster walls, larger than the crumbling, mismatched foundation that barely holds this place together. And yet as I ready my yard for winter and wave at the neigh-
Ties that Bond: The Occupy Community by John Kim
John Kim is an artist and assistant professor of New Media Theory at Macalester College.
In and around the Occupy movement I’ve been talking with people about communities, communes, communalism, commons, communion, etc. The conversation I attended the longest at Financial Engagement: A Public Thing was about the possibility of forming a commune in the Twin Cities. It got me thinking about why we might want this, and what need this might be a response to. Outside of the real economic and political demands that the Occupy movement has been making, is there something lacking in our lives at the level of our relationships to others that the movement strives to articulate? Indeed, one of the things I’m excited about in the Occupy movement is how it has resulted in the creation of ties that bond individuals together into communities outside of the ways in which relationships usually form. G.W. Hegel imagined that substantive civic communities are based on the model of families; community members are held together “by the bond of mutual need.” The movement’s bond is recognizable in the encampments that have sprung up: a nexus of sharing, singing, militating, collaborative teaching, protesting, and learning. We are surrounded by people, especially in large cities like Minneapolis and St. Paul, but why isn’t this enough? Maybe because of the habitual ways in which our relationships arise. For example, there are friends we make at work. But these form around the capitalist production of a good or service, a very thin connection between people who would otherwise be strangers. There’s play. But we gather around mass distractions like beer, booze, or sports. There’s politics. But we’re too busy apologizing for what mainstream politics is failing to do instead of organizing to make meaningful changes. The Occupy movement has inspired me to think more critically about the communities I’m regularly a part of and motivated me to strengthen my relationships to others by becoming active in movements that share my mutual needs. Crisis can be the basis for the formation of a vibrant community of individuals who share bonding moments, like protesting and organizing, and there are lots of movements out there to join. Here are some that come immediately to my mind: unions (IWW or Workers’ International); Minneapolis Autonomous Radical Space; a social justice non-profit (like MN Neighborhoods Organizing for Change or Rock Star Supply Co.); community farming organizations (like Frogtown Gardens); or the Experimental Community Education of the Twin Cities. This list could go on and on. I’ve recently been fascinated by Ourgoods. Find me there!
Fred Visits the Fed, Or What We Don’t Learn at School by Sarah Peters
Sarah Peters makes books, teaches, writes andorganizes arts-based public programming.
The only economics class I have ever taken was in high school. I was fortunate to grow up in a city with good public education, but the semester I spent learning about our financial systems left little impression on me. “Supply and demand,” that’s what it’s all about, right? Despite the simplicity of these lessons, I always tried to get out of doing the regular homework by proposing an art project. The gullible econ teacher agreed, so I made a pop-up book about the Federal Reserve Bank for kids. My Mom kept it (how sweet), so here it is*—a testament to my early interest in book arts, and proof of why many of us know nothing about how money really works. *minus pages 13-14 in which I illustrated the buying and selling of government bonds. They couldn’t be flattened for the scanner.
You’ll find more content online at apublicthing.org. Including original artwork and writing by Aaron Rosenblum, Pete Driessen, Annette Schiebout, and Ryan Seibold.
I know Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m not alone. by Amber Pierce and Kate Westlund
A PUBLIC THING Shanai Matteson Sarah Peters Colin Kloecker Molly Priesmeyer Sam Gould Molly Balcom-Raleigh Ameila Foster Erik Ostrom Kate Saturday Thanks to everyone who bravely posed a question on November 5th: Jeff, Amber, Nick, Leah, Rose, Rich, Joshua, and Molly. Thanks to Zoe Prinds-Flash, whose photographs are included throughout this publication. zoeprinds-flash.com
apublicthing.org
Thanks to Rachel Breen, who set up The Bank of Our Common Wealth on the plaza. Read more here: bit.ly/qjaZDV