Monday, September 21, 2015

Are You Alright?

"Are you alright? ... are you OK?" chorused the hikers at the old gent sprawled at their feet.  "I'm OK, alright" I responded -- scrambling embarrassedly to my feet, checking my camera which had hit the rocks with a thump, ignoring the blood running down my hand, checking my hiking pant knee for a tear -- "I'm fine, I'm OK" I lied -- since I was not alright.  I was mad, mad at me; at my hiking partner who was admonishing me for going "too fast"; at my stupid, telescoping, spring-loaded Haute Route hiking pole which had gotten me down to Hidden Lake the day before, up Tiger Mountain last week, and up 2,700 feet to top of Cape Town's Table Mountain two weeks back. "I'm fine" I lied.
Table Mountain over Cape Town -- 3500'


Glacier Trail to Hidden Lake
We were on the trail to Iceberg Lake, five miles out from Many Glacier in Glacier National Park, a extraordinarily lovely hike.  And I was not going too fast, just setting a nice, rhythmic pace.  Usually she sets the pace but I was in my stride, at her pace, so she did not pass as she often does to leave me lagging behind.  Too fast for an old gent, was her infuriating implication.  "I was not trying to go fast" I protested, as we mopped up the blood and bandaged the knuckles which had hit hard when I looked up to thank hikers that had given way, caught the pole in a crack, wrapped my foot around it and went down hard on the rock strewn trail.  "I was not showing off.  I was not rushing -- I just tripped, damnit!"  (In truth, I was enjoying setting a good pace for the two of us.  Pride goeth before a fall, indeed.)
Cape Town from atop Table Mountain

Glacier  Trail to Iceberg Lake, in the Cirque Beyond
What I was really not OK about was the nagging worry that I might be getting tippy now well into my ninth decade.  I have trouble these days standing on one foot to put on the other sock; I seem to wobble a bit from time to time; I find myself reaching for banisters which I used to eschew.  And I was conscious of age, since the Glacier trip was a birthday present to myself.

But we stood atop Table Mountain.  We rowed for an hour and a half in Steamship Slough and around Otter Island Saturday, in the delta of the Snohomish, but one doesn't get tippy crewing an eight with feet in stretchers and butt on a slide.  And the hand didn't overly bother me.  And I had walked down nineteen stories of Horizon House on Friday to stretch the calves and loosen the knees.  I'm alright... right?


"I'm alright; I'm OK" I'll keep parroting with a smile -- but inside there's that nagging doubt: am I really as alright as I'd like to be?  As I used to be?  Psychologically and happiness-wise, I've never been more alright ... but damn that treasonous hiking pole.

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

Reflections on Migration


In the Serengeti last month we watched the migration of wildebeests and zebras, hudreds of thousands of them streaming by.  At the Mara crossings the crocs and vultures waited. 
                                          
Once out of the bush, in Arusha and then in Cape Town, we could plug into the world once again -- and we watched our species in migration, perhaps a million seekers, with human vultures preying on them. No, I am not equating these victimized people with beasts.  The one is an ingrained part of the process of natural selection; the other, the result of unnatural savagery that man inflicts on man.

I don't know what zebra and wildebeest dads feel when they watch the carnage in the water, but you and I ache for these migrants -- the anguish, the horror, the desperate helplessness of the children caught up in their parents' search for peaceful sanctuary.  

Europe is  beset --under siege from migrants and asylum seekers, torn between morality and social cost, anguished by doubt about what Europe stands for. The short term view of this is catastrophe: unaffordable food, housing and healthcare burdens and social disruption.  Hungary wants no part of it -- just shunt them on to western Europe.  Oh, they might take a few -- but only Christians, please.  Poland and Serbia stand aside.  Citizens respond with charity; Pope Francis calls upon his flock to adopt families; but governments waffle, seeing only short term crisis.

But in crisis there is opportunity.  Perhaps Angela Merkel has the long view.  Western Europe needs this infusion of strong, courageous people determined to make a better life for themselves -- and in doing so, for the communities in which they settle.  Throughout Europe, birth rates have fallen to below replacement level, meaning stagnation, an aging population to be cared for by a steadily dwindling worker base.  Merkel understands the opportunity to juice up her economy.  Germany, with a population of 82mm, pledges to take 800,000 refugees this year, 1% of their population, and again next year.  (60mm Britain agrees to 20,000, over five years.  Come on....)  This isn't the first migration. Perhaps Merkel has taken a lesson from our history. 

In the first decade of the 20thC, a United States of 76mm took in 8.7 millions! 40% of New York city were immigrant families.  They were costly and disruptive.  Jane Addams' Settlement House movement forced into America's consciousness the living conditions, health service and education needs of these other-worldies who aspired to become us.  Teddy Roosevelt as NYC DA and NY Governor rooted out the political patronage and corruption that ensnared them.  Sinclair Lewis and Lincoln Steffens and the McClure team exposed the dreadful exploitation of their labor.  America reformed  -- and these new Americans provided the brains and muscle, and with old Americans' capital, together they created an industrial powerhouse.

My grandfather, Hallie Waller, pioneered the Americanization of these new comers, first in the Cambridge, Mass YMCA and later in Akron, Ohio.  Ohio was then to the US what Germany is to Europe -- its manufacturing export engine.  When WWI shut the door to Europe, the second Great Migration began, of southern blacks fleeing Jim Crow and seeking northern jobs and opportunity.  Sure, there was a backlash; Ohio had the largest Klu Klux Klan membership in the country in 1921.  My Dad remembered being a ten year old watching a cross burned on the front yard; the Klan forced Granddad out of his YMCA General Secretary post  and his Presidency of the Akron School Board.  But the migrants struggled, thrived and made the community better.  By 1925, the Klan was fading from northern Ohio. 

A few years later, a third great migration: 2.5 millions out of the Dust Bowl -- Grapes of Wrath, hardship and conflict -- to create a new California.  And in the '60s, a fourth: 1.2 million Cubans were welcomed to these shores.

Inviting the Stranger to contribute is fairly easy; assimilating with the stranger to create a new society is very hard.  But the payoff is huge, in creativity, energy, vitality.  It's time we 320mm US took a strong stand to accept a large share of this latest migration (not to mention the thousands of Iraqis who served us in that disaster and deserve sanctuary here.)  Trumpism be damned.

The world must learn to deal with migrations for this won't be the last and certainly not the largest.  Zebras and wildebeests migrate in response to water.  If the global warming forecasts are only half realized, water issues will be driving huge human migrations, both within and across borders.  Water shortages in China will drive internal migration of tens of millions.  A surfeit of water in the ocean will drive millions migrating within the US as coastal areas from Houston around the Gulf, around Florida, and up the east coast up to Long Island become unlivable. 

Elsewhere, tens of millions of Bangladeshis and Indonesians will be migrating to higher ground.  Conflicts in developed economies as well as in the third world will flare up over water, arable land, disrupted food supplies, and disaster relief after storms or forest fires.  None will be exempt; all six continents will be enmeshed in migration (and in Antarctica, even the penguins are migrating these days.)  These human migrations may not be as concentrated in time as the current crisis in Europe, but even spread out over longer periods, they will be disruptive -- and will present opportunities.   

We are entering an era of continuous migration.  We -- all of us -- had better resolve and prepare to handle these migrations with empathy and kindness, with a willingness to accept the short term costs, and with a long view of renewal, of energizing, and of opportunity.  Mankind need not be bestial; the stranger must be invited in.