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Webitorial #14

Rumours and reality...

Oh, that Thatch, a continuing drama unfolding. Seems there was a rumour that somebody (it was Sam Gilbert, if you want to know) was selling drugs down at the Thatch. Now, if you knew Sam, you might guess that there would be a funny story behind it. The story the way he tells it is this: he got tired of being asked if he had any dope to sell, and flippantly responded, “Nope, no dope. Just coke. Want to buy some?” Nyuk, nyuk.

But the rumours spread from there, and we all know how rumours can spread and be taken seriously and not checked out, and onward and ouch! I missed the whole drama, having spent the last week in the Big Whatever-Vancouver-Is-Affectionately-Called-By-Its-Residents, but arrived home just in time to hear Sam’s story. I didn’t see Peter Elkins’ insert in the Grapevine, but I heard all about it. I can only hope that the drug dealing rumour was not the reason the Elkins’ purchase of the Thatch fell through—say it isn’t so! That would be a true comitragedy, or tragicomedy, or something.

So yeah, I went to Vancouver to hang out with my Mom, and got a guided tour of the Downtown East Side (quote: “On your left is Skid Row. Take pictures.” I did.) My tour guide was my brother Bruce, a longtime Eastsider, artist, musician and writer (He has a show coming up tomorrow at the Gallery Gachet in Gastown; check it out if you’re in the neighbourhood). Then I went out to PoCo to spend time with my Mom, sister Fern and her family (hi, Fern!). And I got to know my Chinese cousins, Florence and Carol, better. They're good people, my relations, I like 'em. My sister's girls, Julia and Robin, are great--smarter and cooler than most grownups. Darn good-looking, too (runs in the family).

The whole trip really brought home to me what a different world I live in, here on Hornby. It also gave me a wee bit of perspective on what it might be like to be a part-time resident here. What a strange gap to straddle—I’ve seen it in some folks' faces, as they mutter in late August or early September, “Omigod, I have to go back Out There…” a sort of dazed bewilderment, as they try to make the mental shift to prepare themselves for the dimensional transition. My sympathies! I found it a very bizarre transposition of realities, myself.

I got shocked back to Hornby reality by a conversation with the person who gave me a ride home from Buckley Bay. In his opinion, Hornby has crossed the point of no return, and in a few years no one will live here fulltime anymore. Everybody will be part-timers. He’s seen it happen before, he says, and he quoted many solid-sounding reasons, and cited examples of other places where it's happened. In five years (he says) there will be no volunteer fire department—there will be nobody left to volunteer. All the local societies and organizations will die out. Hornby will be a resort, plan and simple, staffed by off-islanders who commute here and back to work.

Yikes. What a dark vision. The scary thing is, it might just turn out to be right. What do you all think? Is it really too late for us? Over sixty percent of the residences on Hornby are owned by people who don’t live in them. That majority have no real reason to put the needs of this community first. Why should they? For the most part, they’re only here during the summer resort season anyway. That’s all they know of this island. Community? What community?

The grand hope and vision of the last couple of years seems dead in the water, though thankfully it's been re-opened part-time--there is some light at the end of the tunnel, perhaps. So kudos to HICEEC for that! Still, I wonder...what’s happening with the rest of the vision? Did the Thatch purchase burn everything out? Can we start again? What about the Renaissance group (aka HALE)? The marketing and arts groups? The initiatives designed to revitalize and create economic sustainability in the community? All sucked down the black hole of the Thatch purchase. All that excitement and activity in the spring--the workshops with Sandra Marks--the plans, the future...we're into October and now, not a word. Well, I had a bad feeling about it. I wanted to be excited about it, but it just seemed to be taking energy away from everything else.

To be honest, it's not all HICEEC's fault. Nobody else (including myself) has followed up either. The summer on Hornby sucks the life out of everything. Plans get put on hold and many of them get dropped. People have only so much energy for so many projects and some of them fall away when it seems there's no support or energy left. We're all left wondering what happened.

Oh man. Now I’m depressed. I welcome anybody else’s point of view on this subject. Do you see any real hope for this island, as a community? Or will we become just another resort? Is this a dying cause? I admit, what seems to be the failure of the grand vision of purchasing the Thatch for the community, and the concomitant loss of all the other visions for change, has all but done me in. My hope balloon is losing air with great farting sounds. Half my friends have moved away, and the other half has one foot off the island.

It must be that Vancouver city air, blowing an ill wind of reality across my utopian vision. I don’t like reality. It bites.

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Webitorial #13

"Don't Fence Me In..."

Life on Hornby is settling into its new shape. There are no routines on this island. Each fall, the human tide recedes, leaving different shapes behind it. Who lives here now? What new things are happening as a result of the new combinations of energies? My pattern is to settle in at home in September, spending time alone in recovery from the massive intense frantic action of the summer. So it’s usually not until October that I have a chance to get to know the new people who have moved here and discover the new projects that have begun.

Radio Waves Coming Soon

One thing doesn’t change, though. The Hornby Community Radio Society keeps slogging away at our big project, which is nearer and nearer completion (completion?? Beginning…). It's starting to remind me of the paradox in which the distance between an arrow and the target is halved and halved and halved, bringing the arrow nearer and nearer the target but never quite reaching it.

We are so close, and getting closer. As usual—though every year we swear it won’t happen, and every year it happens again—the summer really messed with our momentum. But we’re back on track and the next thing is the studio. Check out the newest update on the Hornby Radio Page to find out more.

More on Anonymity

Awhile back, I talked about anonymity on the site, and made a rule about it on the FAQ page. Since then, I’ve had some thoughts and some discussions with people that have altered my thinking. So, okay; I’ll change the rule. There are plenty of instances in which anonymity would be quite acceptable. I’ll put these changes over on the FAQ page too, but for convenience (and to make sure everybody sees it) I’ll talk about it here first.

If you want to have a regular anonymous column, a la Diogenes or Sista Flash over on the First Edition, that’s fine. It’s a fun game, trying to ‘guess who’. I have no issue with that—in fact, I encourage it.

If you are writing about something deeply personal to you, an issue about relationships, emotions, or your own dreams and visions, anonymity is fine and understandable.

If you have something potentially volatile to say about a contentious issue in the community and you fear repercussion if it becomes known that it is you speaking, well, that’s where things get iffy for me. But I understand the fear, and I want to support you in having your opinion heard. So, if it’s a choice between speaking anonymously or not speaking at all, then go ahead and be anonymous. If I seem grudging about it, I am. It’s a lesser of two evils thing for me.

I may encourage you to come forward with your name if it’s an issue in which that seems important. I believe that local politics should be open and above board.

I especially don’t like a situation in which a few people are out in the open by virtue of being ‘politicians’—that is, they have volunteered or have been elected to be in a publicly vulnerable position—and are surrounded by a group who insist on keeping their identities in the dark, but who identify themselves as a ‘group’ (which might be two people and might be fifty). That is not fair. Each voice must speak for itself. So, no anonymous groups, please.

There is no room on the site for what a friend of mine calls ‘corralled consensus’, which is saying, “Me and lots of people think…” Speak for yourselves, please. Anonymously or not, as you choose, but one person, one voice, one set of words. If you represent a group, be it a non-profit society or informal group, please identify the board members or group members whose opinions are being expressed in the article or letter, as the controversial Ad Hoc Committee has done.

About the Ad Hoc Committee

Now, about that Ad Hoc Committee. I have opinions about their stance, just as everybody seems to. Primarily, I dislike the way they have been flooding the island with their lengthy diatribes in the Grapevine flyers. And I feel snubbed by having been left off their massive email list too! I would have liked to have been included so I could ask to be removed, heh…

Personally, I don’t agree with the self-selected Ad Hoc Committee’s goals, or even their existence as an entity. They have completely ignored Tony Law’s carefully considered responses to their concerns (one of which I’ve posted on the site) and are acting as though he hadn’t said anything at all (he has sent his responses out to a very large email list, which has included, I presume, members of the Ad Hoc Committee).

Their letters in the Grapevine seem to be belaboring the same points which he has already replied to (and refuted) in detail. They have not responded to his responses in the slightest, which is what it would take to have an actual dialogue happening. They give the impression of being mulishly deaf to other opinions and points of view, which costs them credibility.

One of the names at the bottom of the yellow flyers (the list of members of their group) is costing them credibility as well, I’m sorry to say. Dean Ellis may be a lovely human being but his actions as reported in a recent series in the Island Grapevine do not make him an asset to a group which purports to be seeking sustainability. The public impression they are creating is that of a group who are putting their desire for personal profit over local ecological considerations. These things need to be discussed.

In the hopes of facilitating actual dialogue on the subject, and on the chance that none of the ad hoc committee members have actually seen Tony’s responses yet, and are therefore not being stubborn at all but have just been in the dark, I have invited Larry Pierce to respond on the site to Tony’s statements.

Who me--objective?

I suppose it’s obvious that I’m not particularly objective about this. Yes, I am personally biased. I’m trying to walk a fine line here between creating an open space for all opinions to be heard without prejudice, while still making room for my own point of view as well.

I am webmaster here, but I am also a member of the community. These webitorials are where I express my personal opinion and point of view. They are not the ‘opinion of the site as a whole’. There IS no ‘opinion of the site as a whole’. I invite responses to these webitorials and my opinions are as open to dispute as any. I do not present myself as any kind of authority.

There. Now that’s clear, I hope!

Fenced out!

The burning question of the week is, why the fence around Greg & Toglia’s land, which has been a publicly accessible space from time immemorial? Granted, it’s private property, and they have every right to put up a fence. But questions arise—like, why? Did something happen to change the way ‘it’s always been?’ Just curious… if anybody knows the story, I’d love to hear it. And I’m sure I’m not the only one.

Chained out!

Oh, yeah, the Thatch. It seems that Peter and Judith Elkins (last I heard) have backed away from their plan to purchase the Thatch. So it's back to Plan B, but I don't have details about what that's going to be yet. If anybody knows more--Peter? Judith? Anybody on the Board? Anybody who went to the Info meeting last Sunday?--please let the rest of us know... it's looking pretty sad down there with the chains on the door. The end of a dream is always painful. But perhaps a new dream will still emerge, hopefully one that doesn't include turning the Thatch over to developers.

Welcome to the site to any new readers. Please feel free to post your words, pictures & anything else you are moved to contribute. Spread the Word!

- Phoenix Wolf-Ray

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Webitor's Note: Sept 14/05

The mandate of the site has been to focus on content that’s by, for and about Hornby Islanders. However, local content has been sparse lately, and it’s a big world out there with a lot happening. What’s going on out there affects us! So I’m expanding the mandate to include quite a bit of non-local content, and inviting your feedback and comments about it all. This week I’ve got some dark and depressing tales from the Big World, with some inspiring bits too. Hurricane Katrina and its fallout comprises the bulk of it, but there’s an article about Bush and his frighteningly apocalyptic policies on the environment too. What do y’all think? Friends… Hornbonians… Islanders… lend me your words!

- phee

Webitorial #12

"Hearsay and heresy..."

It’s Webitorial time! Only two and a half months since the last one; well, that’s summer on Hornby for you. I’ll try to get back to a fairly regular schedule from now on.

First off, let’s clarify the rumour that the Thatch has been sold to private investors. Bill Smith’s recent Culture List mailout (about an event down at the Thatch) said, “Come out and celebrate the fall season with the new owners of the Thatch, Peter (AKA Big Pete) and Judith Elkins.” Wot, I wondered? I thought the Hornby Community owned the Thatch? Alarm bells went off. Curiosity wanted to know. What happened to the dream? Where are the HICEEC mailouts letting us know what’s happening?

Don’t get me wrong, I like Peter and Judith a lot. And if they buy the Thatch, I’ll be glad. Peter is, I believe, on the board of HICEEC, and I trust that he and Judith have the community's best interest at heart.

Michelle Easterly wrote today: “I went to the Info meeting last night and the truth is Peter is only looking at purchasing the Resort and nothing has been signed on the dotted line yet. The community could still retain it if the money came in to get through the winter and people with energy stepped up to the plate.” later note: HICEEC  has since submitted an article discussing what was presented at the meeting

Well, what will be will be. The whole thing was a huge project, a ton of work and money and perhaps not so very realistic, timeline-wise. And, I’ve just heard through somebody else that the biggest investors ($800K) have pulled their investment out, so it does seem likely that we’ll be congratulating Peter & Judith soon.

Short-term rentals, yes or no? Clearly there’s a lot more going on around the short term rental issue than simply whether it’s a good idea to allow short term rentals. Saltspring and other islands have prohibited these rentals for very good reasons, such as the disruption it brings into neighbourhoods with sudden population increases, and the strain on limited water supplies during the dry season.

But here, there’s an Old Guard who feel threatened—short-term rentals are an eighty-five-year tradition, apparently. Change happens, though, and it’s the community who must decide. Whether it’s the people who live here year-round and are most directly impacted or the people who own property here and only wish they could live on it who should decide seems to be the emotional thread underlying the issue. See Care Leah FitzGerald's excellent and care-ful article on this subject

Welcome to all the new folks who have moved here over the summer! It seems every summer the human tides recede, leaving new faces, taking away familiar faces which will be greatly missed (Marcia! Darlene! Devanshu! Paul! Rachel! Sabina! January! Frank! We'll miss you...). It’s a wrench to start the new season without old friends… but there are some compensations. I’ve started scanning the faces I see, wondering—late visitor, or new islander? It’s always fun meeting the new folks…and *sigh* our friends will visit. And it’s always nice to have another couch to surf on out there in tha wurld…

Congratulations to Albini & Duncan on getting free of the Gas Bar; condolences to Scott on losing his job, and congratulations to the new folks, whose names escape me, many apologies. I know that she is Cam Graham's sister, and I've met her, lovely woman. She (Ms. Graham) and partner (whose first name is Jean) will be our new Gas Bar managers: welcome!

Yes, ch-ch-changes... It’s another year, and anything can happen. Here we gooooooo….

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Webitorial #11

"Summertime, and the livin' is... uh..."

Well folks, summer is here. For those who don’t live on Hornby, summer means vacation time--rest and relaxation, and very likely here! We’re housesitting in the Whaling Station Bay area, and the number of formerly empty houses that are filling up on the weekends with tents in the yard and loud music playing out the open doors is truly astonishing. Have fun, folks. Really.

But rest is not what summer means to me. Summer is BUSY TIME. It’s not all work; summer is tons of fun, but it’s all time consuming, whether it’s band practice (for any of three bands I’m in, not to mention the Peace Choir), work for the Radio Society, or my own work (which is piling up)—not to mention at least some beach time; exposure to sun, surf and sand is essential to my mental and physical well-being! Oh, and let’s not forget the parties, performances, art openings and cultural events of various sorts that are pretty much obligatory in my world.

When I have time, I must tell the story of Veronica and Bill’s wedding; it was most impressive (massive thunderclap at critical moment; hovering bald eagle; dramatic skies; rainstorm at just the right time, when we were all safely in the Hall--you know the sort of thing I mean) as well as beautiful and elegant, Veronica being Veronica.

And Susan Crowe’s annual birthday party was a happening, though I had to timeshare with the Mo’Fire performance at the Ballpark the same night. The point of all this is to say that updates to the site will slow down a bit; though there’s more to write about, there’s less time to write, and I have less inclination to sit at the computer. I’ve missed a couple of weeks’ worth of webitorials, and I can’t remember my last pheeblog.

I will update whatever comes in at least once a week, though—so do, please, keep the submissions coming!

I went out to my web stats page for the first time and discovered that total hits to the site have recently topped a hundred thousand. That’s for over three months (since the site’s inception), and includes things like every time I go out to troubleshoot the site. Still, for a little local website, that’s not bad. The number of monthly hits is rising steadily—fifty thousand this month so far—despite the fact that summer is here and I would think most folks have better things to do than hang out at their computers.

Earlier this evening, a woman expostulated, “You kept me up way too late last night!” While I was casting about in my memory (what did I do last night?), she laughed and said, “I was up reading your website—it’s great!” Well… thank you! It’s nice to know I’m having an effect, if only to interfere with your sleep!

Speaking of the increasing popularity of the site, if you’re a local with a product or service to sell, you might consider advertising on Word of Mouth. Webvertising is much MUCH cheaper than paper ads (check out the ad info page to find out just how cheap), and you don’t have to think about it. Every time people log onto the site, your ad is here, and you don’t have to renew for a whole year. Cheap cheap, no paper involved, and best of all, you get to support yours truly! I don’t expect to make a living doing this, but every little bit helps motivate me to keep the site going.

For those who may be new to the island or are just here for the summer, allow me to introduce myself. My name’s Phoenix; I’m at the Farmer’s Market every Saturday and Wednesday over the summer between 11am and 2pm, peddling my art, photography (with my partner Peter, the chair massage guy) and card readings (hand-painted cards, my own design). If you haven’t been to the Farmer’s Market, you’re missing a unique island experience. If you’re not in the mood for what I have to offer, others will have plenty to amuse, delight and satisfy your needs—both the ones you knew about and the ones you didn’t. Just follow the signs down Sollans Road, just past the Hall, you can’t miss it.

I’ll see you there. And if not there, somewhere else. Ciao for now.

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Webitorial #10:

Make or Break Time for CHFR-FM!

Once again, my topic is the radio, and for good reason. It’s reality time now. The Radio Society needs more help and more money if we are to survive. Some of us feel that if we only had more money, everything would fall into place. Others feel that what we need most is more people to get involved. I personally believe that if we have the people, we can generate the money.

We’ve been getting by on hope and hanging by a thread on the Radio Society for a while now. Everybody in this community wants radio—our theoretical support base is enormous. But I for one am starting to feel like we’re the Little Red Hen society. “Who wants to help get the radio station going?” said the Little Red Hen. “Not I,” said the Cat. “Not I, said the Dog. “Not I,” said the Pig.

Okay, it’s not quite the same. Certainly, once the station gets up and running, everybody will share in the loaf; unlike the Little Red Hen, who held a grudge and withheld the fruits of her labours. And truthfully, we have had a lot of help, and we are very grateful for that. It's just not been enough. We need the community to rally behind us and show us the support that such groups as HICEEC and HIAA have generated in such projects as the building of the wash houses and the purchase of the Thatch.

By its nature, radio is for everyone. All the organizations, societies, groups and various endeavors on the island stand to benefit. The benefits of radio on this island are almost too numerous to list. Let’s think about it for a moment:

Talk shows, kid shows, music shows of every possible genre (including local), live broadcasts from cultural events, sports (live Eagles games, for instance!), event and other announcements, local business sponsorships, variety shows, comedy, radio plays, and much more, the possibilities are limited only by imagination. The potential outlets for the abundant creative energy on this island is enormous! And now that broadband is here, web streaming can put us out to the world. Radio can attract people to the island, too—people who can add to the island’s vital energy and human resource base. We need people here, particularly young people; we are in danger of becoming a retirement village staffed by off-islanders who commute to Hornby to work.

Radio can make Hornby a safer place for retirees, too. The station will have a solar generator, so we will not be dependent on whether or not the power is on; anyone with a battery or car radio could tune in for instantaneous emergency information. True, in the beginning not everybody will be able to receive our signal, but we will be available on cable. Our little five watts isn’t going to go too far in the beginning. Our main goal is to get up and broadcasting, and that will generate the interest and energy to move up to the next level (an A-1 license).

And there is the paradox. We need the interest and energy NOW if we are to get this thing off the ground. So, for the purpose of generating more interest and energy in the community (and also to inform the curious about what’s happening with radio on Hornby), we are holding a Public Information Meeting at Joe King Clubhouse on June 16th. That’s a Thursday evening, starting at 7:30. Please mark it on your calendar and consider attending!

We have created volunteer application forms to make the process of volunteering as easy and painless as possible. These applications should be available at the Gas Bar sometime in the next few days. Here’s how it will work: on the application form there is a list of jobs that need to be done, for example, event organizing, fund-raising, grant writing, telephoning, general work parties, providing food for work parties, sitting at information tables on the Co-op Porch and the Market, and so on. Beside each type of job will be a space to put a check mark. You can check off as many categories as you feel qualified and willing to make yourself available to do; and you will provide contact information so we can get hold of you when those jobs need doing.

The more people who sign up, the easier it will be on everybody! Many hands make light work, and there’s a great deal of work coming up to be done. It’s true that there have been a lot of delays and that’s been frustrating for us all. More hoops keep getting thrown up for us to jump through. We have been erring on the side of optimism in our estimations of when we will be broadcasting for a long time now, and there is a contingent of opinion out there that believes, as a result, that we’re not really serious.

Some have noticed that our green trailer has been moved up behind the Free Store, and assume that means that we have given up and are recycling it. Not so! HIAA has requested that we move the trailer because they are trying to clean up the look of the ballpark (they didn’t want it looking ‘like a trailer park’), so we moved it behind the Depot. It is still serving its purpose as a collecting center for our donated building materials. The trailer is still HCRS property. It is not available for recycling!

At the meeting, we will explain what the hoops are that we have been jumping through, and we’ll tell the story of how we got this far and what more needs to happen in order for us to get up and running.

We have all the pieces to start broadcasting, it’s just a matter of assembling them. Even if we do start broadcasting this summer, as we fervently hope, it’s just the beginning. Our developmental license is good only for three years; at the end of that time—by September of 2007—we will need to be ready to upgrade to the A-1 license, which will have a lot more watts and cover a lot more of the island.

Even if you can’t make it to the meeting, please do pick up a volunteer application form (if they are not available yet, come back in a day or two) at the Gas Bar to let us know what it is you are willing and able to help with. Don’t ask, “When are you guys going to be ready to broadcast?” Ask, “What can I do to help?” There will be something you can do, and every little bit will be more helpful than you might imagine. I guarantee that together, we can make it happen. Look how far we’ve come already!

I hate to think that the dream of a community radio station will die out. Please, let's not let that happen. Let's get it together and make it so!

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Webitorial #9  May 30, 2005

"We can Work it out..."

I imposed a deadline on myself to get webitorials out every week on Saturday—but this week it didn’t happen. Good thing I’m not getting paid for this… but the sun has been out! The beach has been calling and I’ve actually had a few moments to say ‘yes’ to it. I’ve got the photos to prove it, too.

Little Tribune Beach has to be my favourite place in the world. There is something so natural and nurturing about getting naked with friends and the children of friends, and in such a beautiful setting. How can this not be paradise?

Like many, I was raised in a culture of intense body-shame. My little brother once pulled his pants down in a roomful of adults to show a little friend the ‘owie’ on his butt. It still makes me wince to remember the hush that fell over the room when he did that, and the sudden shame on his face when he saw everyone staring at him. Then the room exploded in laughter, and the poor kid turned beet red and fled in tears. For years after that he was terribly shy and refused to even roll up his shirtsleeves in the summer, no matter how hot it was.

Bless Little Tribune! It’s a refuge of health and sanity in the summertime. For the most part it’s local people who spend time there, so it’s a kind of community touchstone, a place to reconnect and take a break from the madding crowd.

Last words on Work...

Well, it’s been an interesting week since my last webitorial came out--I’ve had some stimulating conversations, and hopefully stimulated other conversations as well. I thought I’d devote this week to responding to some of the comments I’ve heard, before moving on to other topics next week.

At least one person I talked to was quite offended that I am ‘publicly defending David Work.’ The problem seemed to be a belief that David Work is just waiting for some sort of encouragement in order to step up his nefarious activities. Something in this belief disturbs me deeply—it is as though in acknowledging David as a human being and defending his right to exist as a part of the community amounts to colluding with the enemy.

I’m not really defending David Work’s activities or his beliefs. Many of David’s activities and beliefs disturb me quite as much as any I’ve encountered on the ‘other side’. And therein lies the problem! It seems to be about ‘sides’. ‘Us vs them.’ Enemy consciousness. War. Battle.

There’s no question that David sees this as a war—he names certain people as his ‘enemies’ and feels he has been persecuted by them. I appreciate his honesty, while I deplore the adversarial mindset. But David Work did not create the adversarial system now in place, nor is he alone in it. Many people see him as ‘the enemy’, or at least ‘an enemy’, a ‘bad guy’, somebody who is a problem, as opposed to just having a problem.

Finger-pointing and blame is happening on all sides. People are pointing fingers at David and blaming him for finger-pointing and blaming. It gets a little silly and recursive. Who started it?

It is true that David’s problems are rooted in events from the past, which keeps moving farther and farther away, but distance from the present doesn’t weaken the importance or relevance of the past, as any abuse survivor will attest. And the fact that the past is moving farther away only shows that time is passing, it is not an indicator of healing or resolution. To say that he (or anyone) ‘should get over it’ because ‘it was all so long ago’ is just to espouse continued avoidance, justifying it with the precedent of past avoidance.

I tend to be an avoider of confrontation; on Hornby (and in the general world of social interaction, outside the worlds of politics and war), I think that’s the dominant attitude. David Work stands out from the rest of us because he seeks to confront those he has felt wronged by. But avoiding confrontation isn’t ‘better’ than aggressively seeking it. If an unresolved issue is left unresolved, swept under the rug until it has been ‘forgotten’ by most people, the issue hasn’t ceased to exist—not really. That would be convenient, wouldn’t it? But that’s not the way it works.

Enemy consciousness is so pervasive in this culture that it is seen to be the ‘norm’. It is simply a given to many that there are bad people ‘out there’. Whether it’s George Bush, Saddam Hussein, ‘the system’, ‘the politicians’, ‘the scientists’, ‘the Christians’, ‘the Zionists’, 'the Illuminati' or ‘the terrorists’, it seems like there has to be somebody to blame for what’s wrong in the world.

It’s acceptable to see the ‘enemy’ as somebody far away and untouchable, someone we can burn in effigy, yell at, accuse, draw cartoons of, without actually getting anywhere near them. To see the face of the ‘enemy’ within our own community is considered to be paranoid, wrong. How could there be bad people within our midst? No, the bad people must be ‘out there’. And if you see bad people here—if you are pointing fingers at my friends—at people I care for or at least like—then you are, by definition, yourself bad, wrong, and ‘the enemy’.

Our survival depends on our context—our community. On a very deep, visceral level, we need to trust those we most depend on in our daily lives. On Hornby, we have an intense group desire to be one big happy loving family. We want that so bad, we convince ourselves that it must be so. And it’s not hard, usually, because we are a pretty special bunch of people here—we can see that. We see how amazing, creative, and cool we all are. So where did David Work come from? What’s he so angry about? After all, he’s probably pretty amazing, creative and cool too.

What happened is, David Work had a grievance, and it was never properly addressed. Years passed, and he kept confronting and insisting, and people who avoid confrontation (like me) kept avoiding and deflecting, and attitudes became embittered, and opinions became entrenched. Over time, small grudging attempts were made to defuse the situation, none of which have worked, until by now, what started as a nasty boil has become a systemic infection.

I do wish David could come up with a different approach besides name-calling and generalized accusations. The effect has been to alienate many people who might otherwise have sympathized with his point of view if they had heard it presented in a way that was easier to hear. In many ways, he has been his own worst enemy, and that’s sad. That doesn’t explain, however, why his approach has been so enraging to some. I’ve seen more violence and rage from people reacting to David’s words and cartoons than ever from David himself, yet he is the one believed to be potentially violent and dangerous.

David Work stirs peoples’ fears because he is not nice, he confronts, he namecalls and blames: he violates our social norms. He frightens us, and frightened people are dangerous. Yes, we are the dangerous ones. He is only one person, we are many. Our own unacknowledged fear is the problem, and until we recognize that he’s just our own angry face in the mirror, David Work will continue to be shunned and avoided and the tension will continue to build.

Maybe he will go away—move off the island and we can forget the whole thing. But if we fail to resolve the underlying conflict in a truly healing and creative way, can it be long before a new David Work shows up to annoy, disturb and frighten us?

Th-th-th-that's all folks...

read David Work's Response in 'Challenging Words'

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Webitorial #8:  May 21, 2005    

"...talkin' 'bout a revolution..."

I had more of a front-row seat for this last Provincial Election than I have had in the past. I was one of the electoral officers at the Hornby School voting place on Tuesday. We, Billy Little and I, constituted the absentee voting area—meaning that the people who were on the island who lived someplace else might come vote at our station if they wished. However, most people had already voted in the advance ballots, so we saw relatively little action: a total of 17 voters in 12 hours. The other two voting stations were incredibly busy—something like six hundred and fifty people voted here. Having leisure to observe, I came away from the experience with some pondering to do.

The election and what it meant to me

Say about three quarters of our eligible voting population actually voted, in sharp contrast to most of the rest of the province. What that means to me is, Hornby Islanders care. The energy in that room was palpable. Moms came in with their children, guys dropped in on a break from work, people walked, rode their bicycles, went out of their way in many ways all day long in order to cast their votes, so that their voices might be heard in this election.

The counting process was a thrill—to be in on the moment, the actual first moment of knowing the results. I’ve always liked to be in the know! We were not allowed to ‘be partisan’ during voting hours, and we were all strict in adhering to that standard. However, when the doors were closed, there was no longer pretence of impartiality. We cared, too.

So it was exciting to watch the piles of votes grow, to count them, and to count again. Something around four hundred and fifty votes went to the NDP candidate; eighty-odd went to the Liberal, sixty-odd went to the Greens. As for the referendum, at the one voting station I helped count, there were 276 ‘yes’ votes to 26 ‘no votes. The results at the other station were comparable.

Province wide, and in our own electoral district ( Comox Valley), it was the Liberals who won, while the referendum itself failed to pass. I wasn’t surprised by that (it always seems to turn out that way), but I still felt shocked by the implications. Gordon Campground’s home riding had twenty-three percent voter turnout—excuse me?? twenty-three percent?? That’s ridiculous!!

Of course, the Comox Valley has traditionally come out in greater droves than average; seventy-eight percent of registered voters voted in 1991, and seventy-five percent voted in 2001. One might assume that this election had a similar turnout for the whole valley. Still—there are so many more of them than there are of us—and they don’t believe or vote as we do. So we are effectively disenfranchised. Our community’s voice does not get heard. Which is a big drag.

This is where democracy breaks down, as far as I can see. Small communities are not included. Sub-populations such as islands have a distinct character and voice, but there is no system which makes it possible for a small community to be uniquely represented—yet there ought to be.

Talking’ bout a revolution

Anybody remember Chatty Cathy? Years ago, she circulated a document on the island called “A Declaration of Independence For Hornby Island.” It was a very cleverly-written adaptation of the American “Declaration of Independence.” Quite thought-provoking. If anybody has a copy of that, I would love to borrow it. I will post it on the website if I can get hold of it.

Politics or personal?

Politics is all messed up. That’s a big ‘duh-h’, I know. Some people say “The personal is political.” I say, “The political is personal.” It’s all personal to somebody. And people who don’t take politics personally are the same people who can’t be bothered to show up to vote. Who knows who would now be in power if 75 percent of registered voters all over the province had come out to vote? This is democracy’s fatal flaw--it can’t truly be called democracy if only a minority of the people makes the decisions.

The same thing is true on Hornby. We do have a minority of people making decisions, and for the same reason—most people can’t be bothered, for whatever reason. Many people find meetings boring—some have small children and no childcare—some just don’t think of it, it’s not an is sue in their lives. “Ratepayers’? Oh… is that tonight?” I don’t want to lay any guilt trips on anybody. I myself have only been to one Ratepayers’ meeting this year, besides the AGM. I'm the problem as much as anybody.

It has been easy to point fingers at David Work and Billy Little as the problem. As Billy acknowledges, they have been the voices of opposition, and oppositional voices are easy to blame, since without them, the boat would simply sail along in the default direction—either the path of least resistance, or the path decided on by the ones in charge, if there are ones in charge. It’s easy to assume that would be for the best—leave well enough alone—don’t rock the boat. We’re all working hard, don’t be mean, don’t point fingers, and don’t say nasty things about nice people.

Voices on the other side

However, oppositional voices serve a crucial function in human society. They say, “Hey, there’s something wrong—something doesn’t feel good, something doesn’t sound right, look again, be careful, let’s not take this for granted, STOP.” These voices are our check and balance. Without them, we might sail off a cliff or crash onto the rocks. However peacefully that may happen, it's not going to feel good.

What has happened here is the same thing that usually happens in politics in this or any community or country--argument, rancor and tension. Except here, we have a community ‘norm’ of a certain agreed-upon style of civility, which we prefer to shouting and name-calling, even though shouting and name-calling are time-honoured political traditions (ever watch ‘Question Period’?). So the ones who speak softly with smiles are given the approval of the community, while the ones who shout and rant are viewed with censure. If only they would go away, or shut up, things would be so much easier!

Don’t get me wrong. I sympathize with that point of view. I hold it myself. We’re all sensitive people here. We’ve mostly come here because we couldn’t handle the stress and tension of ‘out there’. We want peace and quiet—a friendly, loving community where we can feel safe from the big world. We don’t want to deal with the hassle and strain of voices that disagree with our own and our friends' opinions—especially when those voices sound mean and nasty, and when we feel justified by having so many reasonable people agreeing with us. We’ve all worked so hard, and many of us continue to work hard at annoying, stressful little volunteer jobs that slowly erode our energy stores and our equanimity. We feel we deserve peace and appreciation for what we do. And we do. If only there were an easier way.

For the most part, we’ve succeeded. Hornby Island is a friendly loving community, and we are safer than we would be just about anyplace else. But there IS no escape from the big bad world. Despite what we want--what I want--we are an intimate, integral part of this culture. If we close our eyes and pretend to be otherwise than what we are—a microcosm and mirror of ‘out there’—we can get in serious trouble as a community. Our own tails will bite us in the butt, that’s what.

The naysayers, the gadflies, the whistleblowers, they are not wrong to be here, they are not wrong to exist or speak their pieces, loudly and with emphasis, for as long as they feel what they have to say has not been heard. It comes with being a human bean. People like Work and Little perform service for the community as much as anybody doing any difficult, nasty job. It’s not easy being a gadfly. It takes great courage and commitment and a kind of integrity I find admirable. Yet, by far the dominant reaction I have seen toward the Works and Littles of this island has been outrage, offense and blame.

[two sentences deleted] I realized I'd spilled the beans about a letter in the 1st Edition that hasn't been printed yet--oops!--I am the typist and forgot about the two-week time lag (too used to the instantaneousness of the web; write it, submit it, and it's published, no wait). But it's probably breaking some rule or other to do that, so I thought I'd better pull it . Sorry, you'll have to wait to find out what it said--I'll replace the sentences after the paper comes out!

I am perched in the middle, with sympathy for both sides. I admire the ideals of the community at large—I share them—it is a beautiful dream, that we should all speak civilly and respectfully to each other, sharing opinions reasonably, with shared goals and mutual agreement. We wish that past bitternesses should not have the power to taint the sweetness of the present. However, I do not see this as a realistic possibility, not in the world as it is, and which we are, willy-nilly, still an irrevocable part of.

If it were just David and Billy breaking our civility agreement… but it is not. I see eyes rolling, jaws clenching, I hear snide under-the-breath comments, and it is obvious to me that the rancor and nastiness goes both ways. They are not in this alone!

All voices have a piece of the truth.

If Work and Little were in the tiny minority, if only a handful of people felt aligned with their point of view, perhaps we could dismiss them with some right to sanguinity. However, that is not the case. They have a considerable segment of the community behind them, and I suspect that it is, at least in part, this ‘invisible support’ from people who do not show up at meetings yet who are intelligent and responsible members of the community that keeps them going.

In my opinion, this split cannot be swept under the rug successfully; if it could be, it would have vanished from sight long ago. The issue is not going away.

I am not speaking about the need to find a solution. I don’t know that there is a solution! The polarities may be too far apart to ever come to a mutually satisfying win. But dissenting voices are a part of the harmony of the whole. These voices must be allowed, listened to, taken seriously. It is incumbent on us as a community to notice them. They are a sign that something is wrong. Like pain in the body, stress and tension in the body politic is an indicator of imbalance. It’s nobody’s ‘fault’—the fact that it is happening is a simple red flag.

What the heck did I mean by that?

Last webitorial, I referred to Billy and David’s ‘communication style’ as being a problem for many people. I said, the is sue is one of personality, not politics. Of course, it isn’t so simple. There are political roots to the problem, and if there is going to be a solution, it is likely to be a political one. But the process has been personal. People go to meetings, and hear voices talking, and have personal impressions about what has been said, about who they like and don’t like. They are influenced most by the opinions of the ones they deem to be most reasonable. They walk away from the meeting with their minds made up, based on these first impressions and with little to no knowledge of the facts or history behind the situation. Over time, their opinions become entrenched, calcified, and they join the ranks of the ‘everybody’ that ‘knows.’

Yet, the facts and history must be considered. Surely that is obvious. We didn’t arrive here yesterday; it’s been a torturous road, and if we refuse to look at our history, how can we learn from it? I’m not here to speak on behalf of David Work or Billy Little, but I do appreciate the grist they add to the mill. I appreciate that they keep us real, that they insist on existing, and I applaud their perseverance. And I defend their right to speak their piece, to call us on our hypocrisy and to awaken us to things we weren’t noticing before.

One of the things people are most offended by in David Work is his tendency to name-call. He has called me a coward, too. As a past president of HIRRA, I have not escaped. My first reaction to being called a coward was hurt. David can be very blunt—it’s hard to take—it’s what I mean by communication style. He said what he said without regard for my feelings, but he felt it to be the truth.

Then I realized it was the truth. It was a revelation. Yes, of course--I am a coward. It seemed blindingly obvious, simple and even normal. Yes, I often hide what I truly think and feel in order to avoid conflict or confrontation. I often avoid saying things I fear will cause offense; not necessarily because I care so much about other peoples’ feelings, but because I fear what they will do to me if they are offended. It’s natural and human to be a coward in those ways. When I realized that, I could simply acknowledge it. Yes, I am a coward. I am growing and changing, and I’m getting better, but I’m not perfect.

Okay, I’m a coward. So?

The only reason to become offended and reactive when called names is if we fear that they might be true, while we devoutly wish that they not be. We feel guilty and ashamed and hide it like a nasty secret—and other people have enormous power to ‘get to us’ by poking at us there. Yet what happens when we accept our cowardice, our lies, the icky, slimy little ways we’re just human, flawed and messed-up? What happens when we accept mistakes we make that we regret but are later afraid to admit because we keep making them? Wow!

What a weight off! Yes! I am a coward! Yes! I am a liar! What of it? I’m a human!

Just like you, I was born into a messed-up, crazy-making, insane asylum of a culture. How could any of us avoid being twisted by that?

And then there’s the sweet satisfaction of knowing that this is actually a very brave and truthful thing to be willing to admit. Ain’t life a pair a’ ducks?? The more we admit and accept our flaws (and stop blaming ourselves for being flawed), the more we find that we may act cleanly, from our whole selves. The more we accept our baseness, the greater our nobility. Boy, if I get much more noble, I’ll be ready to run for Queen. But I can never forget the ongoing truth of the admission. I behave ignobly much of the time. I have unworthy nasty thoughts. I avoid noticing crucial things about my life and my responsibility. I procrastinate, sometimes endlessly.

What is there left to call me that can hurt, when I freely admit my own character issues? There are more I could list, but I’m sure you get the idea. The point is, our reactivity to other people's accusations and name-calling says more about ourselves than them. And when we get beyond reactivity—when we can hear what’s actually being said—well, there’s a lot to learn. You might be surprised.

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Webitorial #7 - Friday, May 13, 2005

"Ch-ch-ch-changes...."

Well, I didn't go to the Ratepayers' meeting this month, though I meant to. Something more important (an opportunity to sing and play with a great group of people) came up. Hey, a girl's got to have priorities!

But I talked to several people who did go, and I heard things. Oh yes, word travels... word of mouth is a powerful force. So, now I shall pass along the tales I've been told just as if I had been there myself--oh, wait--that's called gossip.

What the heck. So I wasn't there. If you were, and you had a different perspective that can shed some light on what I have to say, let me know. Give your point of view and I'll attach it to this article so the People needn’t be led astray.

Actually, all I heard about was the Hot Topic of the night, which was the Shared Lands report on the 10 acres between Home Support and New Horizons. This subject has been discussed ad infinitum for as many years as I've been around--and that seems like a lot of years! However, it seems that suddenly word got out that changes were going to happen that would impact on the nature of the neighbourhood.

I can understand that. I have sympathized for years with people who must have been heartbroken when Sandpiper (where I live) was originally cleared. It must have been beautiful back then--magically so--it still is, even underneath all the houses. But here and now we are, and Sandpiper is a subdivision, ruthlessly hacked from the wilderness that was and will be no more. The same is no doubt true of Galleon Beach, Whaling Station and anywhere on this island where development has happened.

Trees will be cut! That is a wrench. Two hundred trees. Yeouch. There is a part of me--the radical tree-hugger outraged environmentalist part--that strongly resists the very thought. "Not another tree shall fall!" she wants to cry. If people are concerned about the trees falling for the trees' own sakes, or if they are worried about the affect this will have on the local environment, I can empathize. I feel the same way. If there were another way, I’d want to choose it. But from what I heard, that wasn't the dominant concern.

Perception is a multi-coloured lens, such that thirty people might experience the same event thirty different ways. I don't know how I would have experienced that meeting had I been there; but one person I spoke to was distressed that nobody expressed concern for the environmental impact--such as the potential effect on the watershed--if all those trees are cut down. This person felt that what concerned most people was esthetics, especially the increased noise levels from Joe King Clubhouse that are bound to happen when the sound corridor opens up toward Roburn Road.

So, there's one point of view. I understand it. I might also be concerned, if I lived in the neighbourhood, about the increase in noise levels and such. I, too, tend to object to proposed changes that might negatively impact my quality of life. But another part of me (the part that has to live in Sandpiper, crowded land of chainsaws, lawnmowers and loud parties) wants to say, hey people, deal with it! Growth happens, change happens, sometimes it’s in your face, sucks but there ya go. Do you have a better idea, besides "NIMBY?"

The thing is, this whole island is our collective backyard. And since the already developed houses and lands are all privately owned and not accessible to the community, if we want the sort of facilities that can make this island more livable, we have to find a way to make the space for them. To create the space—to clear it—and that means cutting trees down. That hurts—it hurts me too—but it seems like it’s a reality we have to deal with. It has to be done sensitively and gently, but it does need doing, in my not so humble opinion.

And that ten acres is the only place it can happen. It's the only land the community has control over, and its location makes sense, clustered with the Hall, Joe King, New Horizons and other public gathering places. And even though there are neighbours, they are few and relatively far between. I'm sure that most of the people who live down Sollans Road and out Roburn way love the way it is now. Of course they do. They're a pretty privileged bunch, nestled in the deep woods with all that peace and quiet.  

If I sound like the Voice of Envy, well, I suppose I am. I am not of the privileged few. I belong to the majority who live in much more densely populated areas of the island. No, I don't advocate unchecked, heedless development; I have no desire to see the island to become more built-up than it is. But I do believe the Shared Lands proposal to be a good one, and I believe the people who are spearheading that project (Serena Laskin is the chair of that committee--thank you Serena!) are approaching it as sensitively and gently as they can.

Two hundred trees does sound like an awful lot. But it won't happen all at once; it’s going to take years. The only piece that is set to begin this year is the Farmer's Market area, and anybody who goes to the Market (or sells there) knows that a permanent location is a crying need right now.

Change needs to happen. Growth needs to happen. The alternative to growth is death, and frankly, I think this island has been growing moribund over the last few years. The year my youngest graduated from Hornby School—1994—there were something like a hundred and sixty students registered. I returned in 1999 and the school population had dropped by a hundred—down to sixty . I hear it’s even less now. I feared for the future of this community.

Then HICEEC Community Visioning Process emerged to inject some life back into our collective veins. Excitement is in the air—change is happening. Real change—the Thatch purchase was a big deal, a huge step forward in community self-ownership. And I for one am grateful and excited to see these changes finally look like they might be happening. I am optimistic about the future of Hornby for the first time in a lot of years.

On another topic, I hear some people worrying about the alternative housing that was (and still is, according to one of my Ratepayers informants) being proposed on that ten acres. Personally, I’m against it, and I don't believe it will happen there. For one thing, I don’t think the government will allow it. And it’s just not a good place to put a residential area. Can you imagine how loud that would be in August? As in need of housing as I am, I would never choose to live in that location. Quality of life matters! It would be too much like living in the middle of a big party, at least in the summer.

Besides, it shouldn’t be necessary. A little bird told me (I'm waiting for confirmation on this) that Bernard and Christa Weiss have donated twenty acres of their land along Central Road to ISLA, the Island Secure Land Association, whose mandate is the creation of a community land trust. Let the Shared Lands be for amenities such as the Market, an outdoor theatre, and all that other good stuff. Quality of life matters. Those of us whose value is measured in other coin than cash have the right to quality of life as well. The Weiss’ land is a wonderful start.

We definitely need more affordable housing on the island--not to grow the population, but to house the present portion of the population that is currently un- or under-housed. And this opens another can of worms, for trees must be cut in order to build these, too. It's a bullet I think we’re going to need to bite. The alternative would be to continue to watch the lifeblood of the community drain away as more and more people abandon the island for want of housing. I may be on the verge of joining them. I live in a tiny waterless hovel of a falling-down caravan because I can afford it; it’s my home and I love it anyway. The owner of this place plans to build on it sometime this year, and I will have to leave. What then? 

If there is no housing I can afford, the only alternative seems to be to leave—and that does not feel like an acceptable alternative. About that, I have heard some say, "We worked hard to get this money to buy this land, you should have to do the same."

Well, that’s an attitude that really burns my buns. Don't I work hard? Who decides what work should be paid, and how much? For example, who ordained that mothers who receive ‘welfare’ in order to be able to care for their children (as I did) should be valued less than a corporate executive or a legal secretary?

So let me answer that attitude succinctly: I worked damn hard to get here, the earlier part doing work crucial to my culture and species which, if someone else had done it for my children (ie, a paid childcare worker), would be valued (though not as highly as a CEO or a legal secretary)--and which was NOT valued only because I was their mother. What IS that? And now that I am here, I continue to work hard for no pay because I love this community. It’s an irresistible lure, that I can help, I can make a change, that through my personal effort I might help my community grow in a good way—a way that might help it to become more habitable for myself, and not incidentally, for all.

It seems like many people who have that attitude don’t want to be part of the community, just occupy space here until they die. They preach about how hard they worked to be able to afford to live here, and how I don’t have the ‘right’ to be here unless I’m willing to work hard in the same ways they did, out there in the ‘real world’ (!!! What’s so unreal about THIS world??).

They suggest that I am or should be obliged to leave and stay away (where?!) for years—that even if I return in the future, I’d have no say or influence over the community’s direction of growth in the meantime —that I might return only when I’d earned enough money to afford to buy land at prices which have been outrageously inflated by those who can ‘afford to’ (and are willing to) pay them.

Penny Griggs ought not to have had to leave this island. Her energy and influence mattered, and it’s missed. She is just one example (albeit a glaring one) of how important each and every individual working and contributing their time and energy to this community really is. Every person who leaves unwillingly—who leaves because they have been effectively forced to by the lack of an affordable place to live, especially if they have a child (the future of the community)--leaves a hole in our collective heart. And in that hole, unwholesome things can fester.

Who has more ‘right’ to exist--those who have money to buy land, or those who invest their time and energy for the betterment of the community? For doubt it not, we are talking about the right to exist. In old times, being ostracised from the community or tribe was a virtual death sentence. And we still hold those instinctive terrors—we fear what will the neighbours think mainly because we deeply fear and abhor exile.

There is, or ought to be in a healthy community, room for all sorts of people who share collective responsibility for its healthy functioning. The volunteers on the boards of the many societies who keep Hornby’s heart beating should be accountable to the community for its actions, that's true--especially the tax-disbursing bodies, HIRRA and its committees. But also, the community needs to be accountable to the work that needs doing, either by helping to do the work, or by supporting the people who do it to keep doing it.

If the workload is shared fairly among community members, with each committing a certain amount of time in the area of their personal interest, then individuals don’t need to burn out. The more people who get involved, the more gets done, and the more democratic the process becomes.

The fewer people who are involved, the more power those individuals may need to take on (as compensation, perhaps, for feeling enslaved by a thankless time-consuming un- or under-paid job) and the less power other individuals in the community have. Well, if you don’t speak, your voice can't be heard—if you don’t speak, your opinion can have no power—if you don’t speak, you have no say. Who can blame hard-working volunteers for resenting it when fingers are pointed their way? They’re already nursing wounds of feeling unappreciated and unhelped. I sympathize. I’m one of them. It’s not a fun feeling. 

Yet, there are some people who would love to be able to help—who have energy and passion and skills and who aren’t allowed to help—because they are not liked. Because of old wounds, miscommunication, misunderstanding, because of a lot of things. Because they are angry. Because so many other volunteers and observers are uncomfortable with that anger.

It’s a dilemma. We collectively lack the tools to make best use of the gifts of time and energy offered, without battles and point of view disputes breaking out that then become suppressed by ignoring and disenfranchising the ones who are judged to be 'at fault' ("Who started it?"). Power struggles are happening here, all the time, all over the place. Look what happens to that handful of people who volunteer for positions at every AGM but seldom (or never) get elected? I have seen how hard the majority works to prevent that minority from gaining a position of any power to contribute.

Personally I believe that issue is more about personality and style than politics. Others believe it is all politics. It’s a serious problem, though, however you look at it. I wish all the voices to have a place to speak. I want the gifts that are offered to be received in a way that doesn’t mean others must be denied. How best can we receive the gifts and gain access to the wealth of resources that people like David Work and Billy Little have to offer?

I believe these men are valuable. I know they have a perspective to offer that has a lot to teach, but I see also that they have a communication style that makes many people uncomfortable. What is that discomfort about? That is what we really need to look at. Is it about the person we dislike—or does it have more to say about ourselves?

“I am not an angry girl / though it seems I’ve got everyone fooled / Everytime I say something someone finds hard to hear / They chalk it up to my anger / and never to their own fear” – Ani DiFranco

It's Friday the 13th, a deeply wormy night. And the Moon is in Cancer. Perfect for can opening. Here's another one:

All three of my children are grown and in the workplace. My daughter is a brilliant up-and-coming lawyer back East; my sons are hard-working members of society. I could make an argument that I ought to be paid a pension by the government for what I did in giving birth to and raising three sober, well-behaved, respectable, responsible contributing Canadians, and doing it for so little money that I thought of the official poverty line as unattainable affluence.

Why should that seem more unreasonable than paying politicians obscenely fat lifetime pensions for contributing a few years to a well-paid prestigious job, which more often than not amounts to preening, strutting and displaying one's ego in the public eye--saying little of real substance--the major value being that they generate massive amounts of paperwork to provide well-paid jobs for bureaucrats? It's an incestuous, convoluted system in which merit and true value seem to have little to do with one's rewards.

Why not equalize the wealth just a little? For example, if you worked at a job that was disproportionately valued by society and made a truckload of money doing it, why not spread it out a little to help those who did (and do) the jobs that aren't valued, but nonetheless are vital? Why not find a worthy cause to donate to—a local cause? For example, you might pay, or supplement, a single mom’s rent, or donate to a retired mother who gave her career-building years to raising children. Or you could give money anonymously. Stuff cash into the Hope Kitchen's donation jar. Donate to struggling local nonprofit societies and to the individual volunteers who staff them.

Heck, if you want to support this website, I’m down with that. Just click here.

Or if you don't like any of these ideas, join or create a local initiative to create a community fund that can disburse money to go toward supporting the struggling poor folks who work so hard on projects here.

Okay, I'm done. It’s not that I’m out of worms, but it’s getting late. Heck, it isn’t even Friday the 13th anymore—not technically. But it really ought to stay today until I go to sleep, and oughtn't become tomorrow until I wake up again. So Friday the 13th it is.

Who noticed that May 5 th this year was 05/05/05? I didn’t—and it was my brother’s birthday. I noticed that it was his birthday (happy belated birthday, brother Bruce), but not the balanced beauty of the numbers. That’s because I write dates as ‘May 5, 05’ rather than 5/5/05… I am of that ilk who believe in meaning, signs and portents, a cosmos you can read like a book—and a date like that’s gotta mean something—especially landing on my brother’s birthday like that.  There'll be a date like that every year for the next seven years: 06/06/06, etc.

I choose to accept that as an omen. A good one. That’s the only kind I’ll accept these days. Enough hapless surrendering to doom! Let’s bring on some positive futures!

Love, y’all.

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Webitorial #6 May 7, 2005

"Radio, Radio..."

For four long years, the Hornby Community Radio Society has been struggling to jump through bureaucratic hoops, dotting i's and crossing t's, filling out forms, applying for grants, gathering equipment, struggling to bring a fully-functioning legal community radio station to Hornby Island. And at last, it seems like our long-held dream is coming true. Momentum is gathering and all signs are pointing to broadcasting by the beginning of the summer!

Yet, radio on Hornby is not really new. The founding board members of HCRS were pirate broadcasters from the old days of Radio Free Hornby. Remember that? For a full year, from March 2000 to March 2001, we had a fully-functioning community radio station here, with everything but a license. By the end, twenty-six DJs were on the air for 18 hours a day, every day. We had a rigorously-kept, posted schedule with a wide variety of programming and a devoted following of listeners.

When Radio Free Hornby died, its momentum was such that the Hornby Community Radio Society was formed from the ashes of its death. All the founding board members were ex-DJs, myself included. I've been with that project from the beginning, and now that we're on the verge of going on the air legally, I'd like to take a retrospective look at our history.

Sean Cowell started the whole thing. Sean has been a pirate since he was a kid. On Saltspring in the eighties, I shared a house for a while with Sean, and he ran a pirate station from his room. He was known on the air as Reuben Treebeard, while I (though I was far too shy to say much) called myself Misty Meanor. That's a pirate radio thing, you see; you don't call yourself by your real name. And Radio Free Hornby certainly followed that tradition.

We all had our monikers. Who now remembers DJ Hecubus? DJ Seraph? Senor P? DJ Phlipside? DJ Albino? Or me, Shadowdancer--or Delarious, as I called myself on my short-lived Friday afternoon show, "A Local Voice"? That was the original board of HCRS: Hecubus was Lawrence Nyberg; Seraph was Amber Boydell; Senor P was Peter Cloud Panjoyah; Phlipside was, of course, Phil Bailey; and Albino was none other than gasmeister Albini LaPierre. Remaining of that original board are Lawrence, Albini and I, though Amber and Peter couldn't leave after all and comprise our programming subcommittee.

We were then, and continue to be, proud of our pirate heritage. Aside from lacking a license, we were a responsible community station, and Sean did a heckuva job organizing and running the show. He's now gone on to bigger and better things--he's on the board of the Cortes Radio Society, who are currently in the process of applying for a Class A1 license with a whopping 240 watts to play with.

Makes our measly five watts seem like chicken feed. Of course, the next big push after we get on the air is going to have to be that A-1 license! As it is, we are vulnerable to being bumped by any bigger station who wants a frequency on or close to the one we've been assigned. It's already happened; Westwave has pre-empted our 91.5, and we are in the process of applying for a new frequency.

Back in the beginning, it was just Sean (who called himself Coyote), Felicity ("the woman with the famous laugh") and Phil; then Peter and I and Jason Dyer ("Groove Dr. Squid") joined, and it stayed fairly small for a while, as I recall. Once the station started to grow, it grew quickly.

I vividly remember my first show. I had a three-hour slot on Monday evenings from nine to midnight; two hours of that was devoted to women's programming (I called it "A Woman's Voice"). One hour of that was an experimental show that I called "Free Stories" (cool title, huh?). This show was cancelled after a number (Sean said 'dozens' at first, which was later amended to 'two or three') of complaints were received. The 'eff word' had been used in a poem read on the air... ah, the late lamented Free Stories...

My favourite, however, was my newest show, "A Local Voice", which is the one I intend to bring back once we're on the air. For this show, I went to local concerts and shows, recorded bits of the shows, interviewed musicians, recorded conversations with locals around certain pertinent topics, and played music by locals and bands who had played here.

I'll cut this webitorial short, since my computer is acting up. Suffice it to say, radio was once a going concern on this island... we've still got a ways to go before we have what we lost! It was amazing how that station brought this community together. 150 signatures were collected on a petition protesting the shutting down of Radio Free Hornby.

Sean reminded me in a recent phone conversation that the call letters "CHFR" used to be on a sticker on the mixing board in the old studio. I had completely forgotten that! But it seems like a good omen...from the ashes of the old, finally rises the new. Long may CHFR rock!

Webitorial #5 April 30, 2005

"If you want the best jam, you got to make your own..."

In response to Peter's letter to HICEEC, Darlene responds with 'wow, the rumour mill has been in full swing it seems. everything you mentioned is completely untrue...' only to have to wipe the egg from her blushing cheeks. (About the 'fine dining' thing, Darlene has this to say) Seems like there was truth to this rumour. This is not Darlene's fault; it's just that the left hand and the right hand need to tawk  ... a familiar problem in co-ordinating projects with groups of people.

Apparently, the Thatch management have been receiving regular complaints about the noise on Sunday afternoons. While it frankly boggles my mind that anyone would complain about music on a Sunday afternoon, a time of day when, at least in my neighbourhood, the soundwaves are normally dominated by the dulcet tones of chainsaw and lawnmower, let's leave aside that issue .

I can understand that complaints are not a good thing, and one must try to keep the neighbours happy. Happy neighbours make the best fences. Well, this dilemma meshes nicely with an issue of my own, so allow me to wax glib on the subject.

I see a way that the noise & neighbours problem can easily be solved. Go acoustic; just guitars and songs, maybe hand drums but no drum kit or screaming electrics. Keep the spirit of the thing, and keep the neighbours happy. Everybody's happy (except the kit drummers and electric guitar players, sorry, guys  )

The other reason given for questioning continuing the jams is, they don't increase business. I've personally only been down there just once; an acoustic scene would appeal to me more. But that one time, there was a decent crowd for the jam by the end, and they seemed to be eating and drinking. Most of them were there because of the music--participants & attentive audience . There were several people who might have been there anyway, but lots of people who wouldn't have.

People who go to the jams regularly assure me that they are always fairly well-attended. The only way the jams could be not making money, it seems to me, is if the music is keeping people away who would have shown up if there weren't any music. How can that be ascertained? Even if that is true, it's not necessarily a drawback. Each event draws a different group of people, and that is a good thing for developing community. We have diverse interests; what draws me might bore somebody else, and vice versa

Okay. Perhaps the jams don't increase business. But they serve an equally important purpose. They increase community.

They also have the capacity to grow. These sort of things take time to catch on. I understand that the Thatch needs to make back its investment; however, the other reason for the community's rallying around the Thatch purpose was the vision of having the space be made available for community events such as this one. I do understand that Ryan and Peter are trying to find a way to make the jams workable for everybody. That's great! 

I'll look forward to the next batch of strawberry jam...

"If you want the best jam... you got to make your own..."

"We do think there is lots of room to improve the quality of the food offered, but to us that means seasonal changes in the menu, use of local food sources (oysters, produce, pastries, etc), and more choices for different kinds of eaters (vegetarians, fresh items, use of herbs and ingredients in creative ways, etc). There may be more expensive items offered on the menu, but there will always be mid-range items and casual fare choices. We just think there are lots of ways to prepare foods that are not deep-fried or sitting on a bun. And we also think that a big reason that many people don't go down there anymore is because of the lack of food choices."

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Webitorial #4 April 23, 2005

Hornby Dollars? Yes!

I've been involved in HICEEC's series of workshops focusing on growing this island's economy. Yesterday I heard about an exciting development on Saltspring Island that we could adopt without too much difficulty, which could boost our economy considerably--apparently Saltspring is making big bucks doing this.

Saltspring has created their own money, printed beautifully with artwork by well-known local artists. These dollars are exchanged one-for-one for Federal dollars; you buy a $20 Saltspring bill for $20. And you can exchange them at a bank machine--the local Credit Union is participating! (Hear that, Union Bay?).

The idea is, you buy the Saltspring dollars and you can spend them at any local business. Then the locals can exchange the dollars back into Federal dollars, and use them to pay bills with (unlike Green Dollars and the LETS system and other local barter & exchange systems)! The kicker is this: (I love it--we've got to do this!) people buy these dollars and take them home with them as souvenirs. Many Saltspring dollars are never cashed in!

What this means is, those dollars which are taken home and put in scrapbooks, framed and put on the wall, tossed into a souvenir bin, given to the kids as play money end up in the community coffers. What a great idea!

Sandra Marks, who has been facilitating these workshops for HICEEC over the past winter, thinks we can and should be doing it too. And I agree with her. What could we possibly lose? All it takes is a beautiful, professional-looking design and full local business co-operation. As many island businesses as possible need to be willing to accept these dollars--preferably all of them. And the Credit Union, the Co-op and other places need to be willing to exchange visitors' Federal dollars for Hornby dollars.

We can look to Saltspring for inspiration: the Saltspring Dollars website has tons of great information about how this all came about.

About how this works, they have this to say:

The $$’s are printed and then transferred to a bank and placed into their vault. Bundles of $$50 (which include a variety of denominations - 7-fives, 5-ones, 5-twos) are made up using a currency counter. 

From there, upon payment of equal amounts of Canadian dollars, the $$’s are "issued" into circulation.

The Canadian dollars deposited are placed into a special account that is used as the reserve fund for the $$’s.

It could be said therefore that the Salt Spring Dollar is 100% backed by the Canadian dollar. In fact, because the Canadian dollars in the reserve fund immediately begin collecting interest, the reserve fund will always exceed the amount necessary to back the Salt Spring Dollars.

When someone wants to exchange a Salt Spring Dollar back into a Canadian dollar,  the reserve fund account is debited, and the Salt Spring Dollar is returned to the IMF.

This means that Islanders can buy food, clothes and gas with $$’s, while merchants can be assured that they will be able to exchange $$’s back into CND$’s.