Editor's Note

Dear Reader,

A great thinker of our time, Mike D of the Beastie Boys, once gave a rallying call for the people of our generation to faithfully defend our “right to party.” While his plea was mostly di rected at oppressive parents who went to the Cape for the weekend and only left 20 dollars for food, Mr. D in all his eloquence recognized a truth that is not always self-evident. The reason we call something a right, or have to fight for it, means that there are people around the world who do not have it.
Thirty thousand children die each day due to poverty. Over 1 billion people in developing countries have inadequate access to water, and 2.6 billion lack basic sanitation. Over 36 million Americans live below the poverty line. Numbers like this should sound familiar to anyone who has ever tuned in to the nightly news, or listened to George Clooney on Oscar night. Globalization is bringing us face to face with the 6 billion other people inhabiting this planet. As everyone seems to be getting a cell phone or an invitation to Gmail, these statistics are a reminder of the many people who have not shared the wealth technology is creating. On page 4, “I Came, I Saw, iPod,” examines how this technology is changing our relationships with each other against a backdrop of inequality.
In this issue of common ground, we listen to the voices around the world that are mobilizing to defend their fundamental human rights. This might be a foreign concept for Americans. We think of human rights violations as torture and genocide, happening in some other country we will never visit. In “Finding the Third World in the First World,” the article shows how injustice exists in our own back yard. These violations happen, whether we choose to watch them on CNN or unknowingly contribute to them in our daily routines, as “We’ll be Wearing T-shirts When They Come” warns.
Rights are not passive, simply waiting to be protected or violated. They require a commitment, and someone to fight for them. This publication explores the different conceptions of the rights we have in our own lives. Hopefully these pages will serve as an inspiration for readers to examine what must be defended to live dignified, meaningful lives.

Sincerely,
William Brode
Caroline Graham
Adriane Lesser

Letters to the Editor

Letters in response to common ground, Volume VII Issue 2 Fall 2006.

To the Editor:
The Fall 2006 issue of Common Ground highlights the creativity that already exists in many local efforts to find or keep a sense of dignity despite threats of prescribed versions of democracy.
Democracy does not have to indicate a “choice between Coke and Pepsi,” as Rubio says is often the case (p10); nor should it simply mean that the “benefits” go to the “majority,” as indicates Ratsuwan in support of the potential potash mining in Udon Thani (p14). Farmers did not have to stop at free trade, and I hope they will not stop at fair trade.
Humans, let us use our creative capacities and surpass monotonous, mainstream, imperfect concepts, so that globally we can experience a true, democratic development.

Vanessa Moll
Washington, D.C.

To the Editor:
Having finished the article “Learning to Think” by Arianne Peterson and Eric Jamieson, I am struck by the universal applicability of the lesson that learning is “a process synonymous with living,” not an exercise that stands apart from or serves some purpose other than to aid our existence as social beings. The most effective teachers understand that their students grasp more quickly and appreciate more deeply those principles that are demonstrated by what the students see in their own physical and social environments. Globalized lesson plans will almost certainly fall short on this score. They will seem something apart and be less likely to communicate to young people that their time and effort in exploring, learning, and growing can serve themselves, their community, and potentially the greater world.

Leonard Gerardi
St. Johnsbury, Vermont

To the Editor:
I was incredibly interested in Tabitha Sprigler’s article “Humanizing the Demonized: Sex Work and Legitimacy.” I think there is an important and fruitful discussion surrounding the nature of sex work and its place in society, and this discussion should go beyond simply addressing the stigma and the criminalization of sex work. There is for me an ongoing issue about sex work, and women’s sexuality more broadly, and that is the idea of consent versus coercion. I believe there is no clear distinction between what women consent to do sexually, and what they are coerced to do as a result of economic and social inequalities. We must look more carefully at the economic and social structures that are accountable for the sheer number of women relative to men going into sex work.
Expanding the economic and social options for women may have an effect on the number of women entering sex work. Sex work may always be a legitimate and desirable option for some women, but we must make sure it is not the only perceived option for women. In the meantime, it makes little sense to punish or villify a group of women who are merely participating with an already established economic system.

Katherine Rushfirth
New York, New York

I Came, I Saw, iPod: Personal Responsibility in an Age of Individualism

by Caroline Graham

    I have 2, 307 songs on my iPod. When I’m in the subway, I listen to Frou Frou. At the gym, I listen to Kanye West featuring Twista’. Twista’ raps fast and I use my short strides to keep up to his beat. When I study, I listen to Chopin Nocturne in G minor. I like to walk through crowded areas and watch peoples’ lips move. There is a man in a business suit. A woman in a Dunkin’ Donuts uniform hurries past me. They are singing Van Morrison or Ben Harper. I tune out the bearded man on the corner. There could be a bomb on Madison Avenue, but I only hear the vibrations from my ear buds.
    New York State Senator Carl Kruger is hoping to pose a bill that bans individuals from wearing electronic devices when crossing streets. “You can’t be fully aware of your surroundings if you’re fiddling with a BlackBerry, dialing a phone number, playing Super Mario Brothers on a Game Boy, or listening to music on an iPod,” he says. According to the New York State Department of Motor Vehicles, cell phones or other electronic devices used by drivers were the cause of 29 accidents involving pedestrians in New York State in 2005. Conveniently, BMW released the first iPod automobile interface, allowing drivers of newer BMW vehicles to control their iPod using either the built-in steering wheel controls or the radio head-unit buttons.
I drop my gym bag and watch my Nikes spill out onto the floor. I walk through the apartment fatigued with the idea of the coming day. In my beeline to the bathroom, I peer at the kitchen sink disparagingly. A tower of dishes creeps over the side of the stainless steel basin. Some have pools of water collecting with bubbles of oil colliding into each other. I look at the glass on the table and it’s empty. All the forks seem to be somewhere in the sink. I keep walking. I haven’t eaten anything at home for weeks. Take-out is so much more convenient. I used a fork once, but those plates are definitely not mine. I am not personally responsible for the pile of dishes in the sink.
    I am listening to Sufjan Stevens. I am on the 4 train from Union Square to Grand Central. It’s 7:30 at night and the rush hour is over. I am standing because the benches are full enough. Sitting can be suffocating. The awkward occasional knee grazes or elbow rubs. I quickly mumble, “Ahem, sorry...” to the receding hairline of a man trying desperately not to make eye contact with me. So I swagger from stop to stop. Around 23rd Street, I see out of the corner of my eye a homeless man fling open the steel door. He slowly strolls down the car. He bobs from one seated individual to the next. The man in the pinstriped suit buries his head further into the New Yorker. The mother discretely nudges her stroller closer to her knees. I lean back and press my shoulders into the crease of the door and steel pole. He walks past me and stops. I look down and press my index finger against the scroll button. The man is
now kneeling in front of me. I look up and anxiously scan the crowd for help.
This is uncomfortable. I don’t have any money. Well, only big bills. So I figure I will just take a lesson from my pinstriped friend. My iPod becomes the most interesting device I have ever come into contact with. Oh the scroll option! Oh it lights up! Look at all these silly names for playlists. He’s still there. I see his mouth open and close. I can’t hear what’s coming out, but it’s not words. He is missing a tooth and I concentrate on that for a bit. The pinstriped man is now looking up sheepishly. The mother is staring, and her stroller slowly scoots further from her. I feel eyes on me, pressed into the corner. I scroll my finger slowly and the volume decreases a few bars. He’s singing. Loud. His eyes are fixed on mine and he is belting out, Al Green? The benches are laughing and the pinstriped man claps and smiles. His magazine sticks out of his briefcase, stored away minutes ago. I blush. This affection from a homeless stranger is embarrassing. He continues to sing, belting out the hook.
    The train halts at 42nd Street. I momentarily look at the man on the floor. I hear the dull buzz of my ear buds. I left them in the entire time. I smile. I step out of the car and feel everyone watching. I’m not sure what they expected me to do. I am flattered but I have nothing to help this man. He could have been singing his sorrows. But then again, I couldn’t hear him. He’s just another dish in the sink. He is just one of 100,000 New Yorkers who experiences homelessness each year. In the face of injustice, I am listening to Bone Thugs-N-Harmony’s “First of the Month.”
   I consider myself socially conscious, even progressive. I volunteer at the Knox County Drug and Alcohol Clinic. I signed the petition to end world hunger. I’m even a vegetarian! But this man, missing a tooth, spoke to me in a different way. He made me turn down my iPod. I care. I really do. But giving him twenty dollars would not address his sorrows.
   Just outside of New York City in Long Island, a bustling family center, more and more individuals are choosing to live alone. From 1980 to 1990 more than 50,000 new single resident homes popped up. With an increase of people living alone outside of the city, there are fewer around to see the individuals living alone in the city. Around 740,000 people live alone in Manhattan, a number rapidly rising. And each night, over 38,000 homeless individuals sleep in the New York City shelter system. This includes more than 16,000 children and 8,000 single adults. Thousands more sleep alone on city streets and in other public places.
   Sociologists from Duke University and the University of Arizona have compiled a study that makes it clear that isolation is perpetuating itself. From 1985 to 2004, the number of individuals reporting that there is no one with whom they discuss important matters with nearly tripled. “Almost half the people around you have at most one person they feel they can speak with about what is most important to them,” the study reports. One in four Americans report they have no confidants, family or non-family. In these 20 years, the types of meaningful relationships that decreased the most were neighbors and members of voluntary associations. And that’s exactly it. I see the injustice. I feel the burden in the commuter’s frantic attempts to tone out every homeless person every day. But his problems are so isolated from mine. In handing over a twenty-dollar bill, we wouldn’t have to talk or look each other in the eye. Or share. Or talk about music. But we do share the subway. And we do share the fundamental right to dignity. And even though I didn’t use those dishes, I’m not going to let them continue to pile up. It may not be my responsibility, but it’s still my problem.
    All social movements and progressive social change are built by the consciousness of the people. An individual cannot single-handedly take on injustice. Change comes from the community. As the philosopher Tocqueville said, “Feelings are renewed,the heart enlarged, and the understanding developed only by the reciprocal action of men one upon the other.” In other words, a change cannot truly come from an individual; only a group of interacting individuals can bring life to change. Movements occur from Pinstripe confronting injustice. In his confrontation, he is creating a network for change with his fellow commuters. Voices are louder when singing together.
   “Stand clear of the closing doors please.” I swear that voice haunts my dreams. Where did the Metropolitan Transit Authority find this guy? The homeless man pulls himself up. The New Yorker is back in action– Pinstripe invests himself in the witty texts of his own world. The abrasive lights of each car spot down the track. We live in a parallel existence, boasting our rights and liberties all the while isolating ourselves from each other. I alleviate my discomfort through my prized gadget. Ryan Adams “Come Pick Me Up” seems appropriate. I walk up the stairs and
get onto the Metro North to Bronxville, alone.