india poem

This is a poem I jotted down at the end of India, amidst our processing sessions. (Officially our five classes on this program are anthropological field methods, ecology and comparative conservation practices, issues in international economic development and alternatives, environmental policy and governance, and social movements. In India social movements are large, vibrant, and confronting issues of violence an injustice on a massive scale.)


You can think of this a plug for on-the-ground activism
ironically
becaust "activism" is a word that turns. me. off.
but let me explain my schizophrenia
and try to reclaim a concept that has existed for milennia

"self-righteous, loud-mouthed, white-skinned
a-historical, i'm right, you're wrong
let me convert your apathetic mind"
pulls my trigger in the wrong direction

(so if you would please take a moment to let this
white boy open his mouth as he struggles to name what
is wrong, find what is right, and let a little righteousness
slip out, I'd be very much obliged.)

intellectual clarity, body immobility is not what i call out for
anthropology, ecology, economic and environmental policy -
these terms fill the boxes of our academic course credit disciplines
but "social movements" is a whole new beast slithering under our skins.
what does it mean to internalize justice and create our own art?
to learn to fire the trigger inside of our hearts?

What does it mean to be a movement, mobilizing,
meditating, networking, meeting needs, sacrficing, working in,
real time, real space, me and you, talk and i'll listen,
let's publish us, and artwork the new

Can we please electrify dormant emotions
rethink what is
and experience the meaning of resistance?