I’ve recently had some experiences in my professional life that validate the “bottom up” approach to change. I thought I’d share them with all of you to see if there are any threads of learning in them that can help us understand the ways we can work together to grow a movement.

Back in 2000, the non-profit I work for was asked to be part of a coalition with St. Paul Public Schools to write a federal Safe Schools/Healthy Students grant proposal. Our coalition was funded for three years. The role of our organization was to have staff on-site in three middle schools to work with students who are chronically suspended for fighting and/or bad behavior. We all know that sending these kids home for a few days relieves the school of safety concerns, but does little or nothing to address the behavior. In fact, for alot of students, getting a few days off from school is a reward. Our staff were there to work one-on-one with these students when they came back to school to provide structure and accountability – but also support and guidance.

The problem with this kind of coalition is that it dies once the three years of funding are up. That’s exactly what happened here. But the schools in which we participated were especially supportive of the service we had provided over those years and desperately wanted us to continue. After long and hard discussion (its difficult to continue work when you don’t know where the funding will come from), we scaled back to two schools and “hit the streets” to fund raise for these efforts.

For years, my co-worker Mary and I have gone to the same Chinese buffet every Thursday for our weekly lunch meeting. One day, another co-worker teased us about being in a rut. When we came back at him with the fact that he has lunch every Monday at Subway, he said, “Oh, that’s not a rut, its a tradition.”

I think traditions are important for all of us as human beings. And for me, there are certain things (like where I go for lunch) that are much more easily decided by being in a rut than they are by having to devote alot of time and attention to them on a regular basis.

On the other hand, those I work with also tend to refer to me as a “change junkie.” I’ve often thought that my addiction to change is a result of the fact that from birth to my 30’s I moved across this country 8 times and overseas twice. Its kind of hard to get in much of a rut when you’re constantly facing the challenge of “starting over.” So, being in a leadership position at work, I’ve had to learn to be more sensitive to people for whom the kind of change I’ve grown accustomed causes a tremendous amount of stress. And there are times I’m envious of those who, when they go home to visit their parents, sleep in the same room they grew up in. There is certainly a place for constancy as well as for change.

But I would guess that most of us blog and engage in activism because we feel strongly about the need for change in our politics and culture. The ruts we find ourselves in are unbearable and unsustainable. And for some of us, Gandhi’s words “be the change you want to see” are the cornerstone of how to make that happen. But the challenge of when to hold on to someone/something and when to let go is difficult and is often impacted by our discomfort with change.

Seems that some enterprising reporters have managed to find Barack Obama’s half brother in Kenya.

The Italian edition of Vanity Fair said that it had found George Hussein Onyango Obama living in a hut in a ramshackle town of Huruma on the outskirts of Nairobi.

Mr Obama, 26, the youngest of the presidential candidate’s half-brothers, spoke for the first time about his life, which could not be more different than that of the Democratic contender.

“No-one knows who I am,” he told the magazine, before claiming: “I live here on less than a dollar a month.”

I think its wonderful news from Beijing about Henry Cejudo winning the gold medal in freestyle wrestling. In case you haven’t heard his story, his mother raised he and his six siblings in the US after coming here from Mexico as an undocumented migrant at the age of 14.

By Henry Cejudo’s count, they moved at least 50 times. Sometimes they moved across state lines: California, New Mexico, Arizona. Sometimes they moved downstairs in the same apartment building.

Sometimes Henry’s mom and his six siblings didn’t even bother unpacking their bags.

Yet no matter where they were at the moment, no matter how many places they lived, Nelly Rico’s message didn’t change.

“My mom would always say, ‘Whatever you want to do, you can do. You want to be an astronaut? You can be an astronaut. You want to be a doctor? You can be a doctor.'”

With tears streaming down his face following his victory Tuesday over Japan’s Tomohiro Matsunaga in the 121-pound freestyle wrestling final, Cejudo, Olympic gold medalist and U.S. citizen, said softly, “This is what I always wanted.”

The 21-year-old son of illegal immigrants from Mexico pinched himself as he stood on the podium and the U.S. flag was raised during the national anthem. He had dreamed about this so many nights, he wanted to make sure the moment was real.

“I am living the American dream right now,” Cejudo said.

I am currently reading a book by Holly Morris titled Adventure Divas: Searching the Globe for Women Who Are Changing the World. I’m just getting started with the book, but am already enjoying it very much. Here’s a bit from the synopsis:

After years of working behind a desk, Holly Morris had finally had enough. So she quit her job and set out to prove that adventure is not just a vacation style but a philosophy of living and to find like-minded, risk-taking women around the globe. With modest backing, a small television crew, her spirited producer-mother, Jeannie, and a whole lot of chutzpah, Morris tracked down artists, activists, and politicos-women of action who are changing the rules and sometimes the world around them.

In the first chapter, Morris travels around Cuba interviewing women rap groups, filmakers, and a Santera. But the most interesting interview to me was the one with Assata Shakur.

In these days when the news is filled with young athletes competing to be the best and fulfill their dreams, my mind is grappling with what feels like a paradox. You see, I was raised with the ultimate kind of commitment to what we often call the “protestant work ethic.” My grandfather, who was an inventor and entrepreneur, lived by the following motto:

If you take on the possible and accomplish it, no big deal.

But if you take on the impossible and accomplish it…then you’ve really done something.

So since birth, I was nurtured on this.

There IS something glorious about that kind of quest. And its probably why many of us blog and engage in political activism…we see a better world and no matter the challenge, we’re committed to doing whatever is necessary to reach for that impossible dream.

But there can be a problem with always living for impossible dreams.

I don’t know about you, but part of me sometimes feels like saying…enough. I think this is a concept that especially we here in the US find hard to grasp. What does it mean to…have enough…do enough…be enough?  

This Sunday’s New York Times Magazine contains a feature titled Is Obama the End of Black Politics? Its an attempt by Matt Bai to explain the shifting ground on which both the issues and the politics of the African American community stand today. This is an issue that has been bubbling beneath the surface (and sometimes above) since Obama won the Iowa caucuses.

Within hours of Obama’s victory in Iowa, however, Clinton’s black support began to crumble. Black voters, young and old, simply hadn’t believed that a black man could win in white states; when he did, a wave of pride swept through African-American neighborhoods in the South.

That wave caught many long-time civil rights leaders and Black politicians by surprise…a shift had happened and they were caught unawares.

From left to right are Mayor Michael Nutter of Philadelphia; Representative James Clyburn of South Carolina; Representative John Lewis of Georgia; and Representative Artur Davis of Alabama.

Like everyone else, I was stunned by the events of 9/11/2001. But pretty quickly I felt very alone in my reactions (that was pre-blog days) as I continued to feel stunned and sad. It seemed like it was only days before the rest of the country moved on to anger and the need for revenge. I couldn’t go there. Perhaps alot of that was because I didn’t understand what had just happened. And I felt the need to understand.

So I did what I usually do to try and understand things that are outside of my previous experience…I read. Specifically, I read what I knew would give me the “behind the scenes story” about times and places that are different from my own…women’s stories.