Gitz Crazy Boy, Bree Davies, inspiration, collaboration and starting where you are for social action

My neighborhood is now a "hot" neighborhood where buyers can buy "pre-scrape" lots, have the existing houses torn down to make room for homes that fit many more people into those lots for $300,000-$500,000 or more per unit. This is a drastic change that means current residents must leave in order to find new housing that is hopefully affordable. Of course, this is good for the buyers and in many cases for anyone who can sell during what seems to be a big economical boom in Denver.

One of my favorite and most transformative experiences from my time at the last Arise Music Festival was meeting and talking with a man named Gitz Crazy Boy. Gitz is a Blackfoot and Dene youth worker and environmental activist who fights a fierce fight via peaceful activism against tar sands extraction in his Native lands. He's been featured in the documentary "The Yes Men Are Revolting", and travels far and wide to educate people about what is happening with the tar sands in Canada, why tar sands extraction is unethical and destructive and what can be done about it.

Gitz was a panelist during a talk at Arise about activism and doing the self work necessary to create change. The panel moved along with an aim to instill hope for those who were in attendance. I -- and I assume many of us who were in attendance that day -- see a lot of injustice and foul play in our respective worlds on a daily basis. However, feeling a bit helpless and unable to voice what is felt, it is often difficult to see whether we (can I say we?) are able to produce effective and long lasting change that is inclusive of a much larger scope than current paradigms based on consumption and capitalism allow. I know that I yearn to see changes in an unscrupulous world that seems to be ruled by an ethic of discarding, not only raw materials from the earth, but people themselves. I also know that I am not alone in this yearning.

During the workshop, Gitz made the answer to the internal dilemmas I was feeling radically clear and palpable. "You need to get the ideas of deus ex machina and tech ex machina out of your minds right now," he said during the panel. He pointed out that we all have a choice: We can sit back and watch things happen or we can do something about what is happening.

Later that day, I crossed paths with Gitz on the festival grounds. I decided to shirk my usual social awkwardness and just walk straight up to him to if nothing else, thank him for what he said at the panel. We chatted for a good while, and during that chat, he reiterated a detail from the panel that didn't quite hit me until we were talking face to face. He said that all anyone has to do is to start in their own neighborhoods. It seemed so simple but I remember feeling lost and frantic, already overwhelmed. The comment was familiar. It ran along the same lines as the common slogan from environmental movements everywhere: "Act locally; Think globally." The imperative was evident.

I wanted to do something but even in that moment, I wasn't sure I had any power. At the same time, I was thinking about one of the biggest sticks in my spine about the drastic changes that are happening in my current neighborhood. I've lived here a little more than three years and I have seen the neighborhood change from a place where I felt comfortable, a place where my neighbors would greet and talk with me, to a place where barely anyone says anything at all (I have even been run away from in this new iteration of the 'hood). I have seen this neighborhood literally scraped up, its past residents bought or pushed out. It's uncomfortable and angering.

I thought that maybe I would write letters to all of the old neighbors that are left, ask them what they think about what is happening in the neighborhood, or at least say, "Hi." I didn't do that, though.

Three weeks after that panel, I admittedly was back to my insecurities about whether or not there was anything I could do. But then, I had a coffee meeting with a local writer a few days ago from Westword and The Colorado Independent. Her name is Bree Davies.

Bree and I learned that gentrification is a subject that flips both of our emotional switches.  We learned that while I have been taking pictures of my neighborhood and posting them into an album on Facebook, she has been reporting, blogging, tweeting, talking with people and taking pictures, as well. Our talks continued after that coffee meeting and then there was that question again: What do we do and where do we start?

Bree suggested that we put together a Tumblr showing others what is happening and what the changes look like. We'll include stories, insights, news blurbs, information, talks with people who are involved with these changes, and just about anything we can think of. We also have made this project available for others so they can share their thoughts, ideas, concerns, stories and images, as well.

If you are in Denver and the changes are disconcerting to you, if you are an artist who lives here, a teacher, a resident of any kind who is affected, we want to hear from you. We want this conversation to be huge and to make waves. Starting from where we are, we can make big changes. Let's rock the boat and let's start here: http://disappearingdenver.tumblr.com/.

A Few Degrees Separated from Fame

It seems that I am often somehow just a few clicks (more or less) shy of being where the famous people are in the strangest way. Here are some examples:

I have a friend who tells a story that on the day that Kurt Cobain died, Courtney Love called his house and he happened to pick up. He heard, "He's dead." on the other end.  

My first real boyfriend and his brother went to Seattle on a trip long ago. I wasn't able to go because of work and I'm sure they wanted their own brotherly time together. During that weekend, they'd run in to Saul Williams and spent maybe a couple of hours with him, maybe exploring the city and chatting. I don't quite remember the details. I'd written an email shortly after that to Saul Williams and mentioned what a strange coincidence I thought it was, that two clicks shy thing, and that perhaps sometime we too would meet and maybe even collaborate on something. He wrote back, open to the idea but not attached to it, as good journey makers do. Since then, I've never been where he is aside from listening to or reading his work. 

Maybe a year ago, maybe more, I met a producer who offered a gig to me that I later said no to (I still sometimes kick myself) who owns Michael Jackson tracks that no one else has heard. He carried them around via Dropbox on his smartphone and I wondered why he wouldn't let me listen to the whole song. I suppose it could have been that we were talking about the blues. Also, it really was proof about the caliber of producer he is. 

 I know an art conservator who has worked on some Andy Warhol pieces and divulged that the artist didn't really care about what the art's materials were. His work was done in crummy mediums, on flimsy, cheap paper and canvasses, and maybe a bit haphazardly and just because. 

I'm not sure why I am thinking about these things today. It's not important to me per say to be where the famous people are. It's not something I aim to do let alone care to do. I'm genuinely interested in people, especially if they are passionate about something. That could be art, music, politics, travel, etc., maybe even just watching nature and breathing.

Working at a coffee shop downtown puts me eye to eye with many famous people, most of whom I rarely recognize. The ones I have recognized or have had any correspondence with really seem to be like me, people who are following their loves and passions and who happen to be passing through.

Also, there are the friends and acquaintances within my circles who are amazing people and who are doing amazing things, some of them blowing up, have, or will. Some of them maybe never will. Some of them are big fishes in small ponds, others non-descript and still unyielding in their art or work. All of them passionately, or even half-heartedly, at times, chasing their very beautiful passions and dreams. . . .

I don't know where the difference is; famous or not famous, accomplished or not accomplished. Sometimes, maybe it's just a little bit of luck and who knows how important, really.


*all selfies taken at Madame Tussaud's in Las Vegas, Nevada, 2008.