Ted Meinhover

In the heart of Jakarta, the capital city of Indonesia, Monas, the Monument Nasional, rises like a huge obelisk into the smoggy air. If the aspiring structure speaks to a metaphorical national pride, the museum built under the base of the monument tells a narrative of nationalism that leaves no room for interpretation. A series of three dimensional miniature scenes depicts the story of a strong, diverse people with a long history who withstood years of exploitation to rise up to expel the unjust foreign invaders. While much of this story is undoubtably true, it is the way the presentation uses this narrative of the nation to justify the Suharto regime that presided over the construction of the museum’s contents.

Indonesia’s leaders have dutifully recognized the importance of a strong national narrative – how  else could a nation with the world’s forth largest population spread across thousands of islands and speaking a myriad languages hold together? However, it is the silences in this story that are today, for many, heard most loudly.

“40 Years of Silence: An Indonesian Tragedy,” a new documentary by film maker Robert Lemelson, is helping to break that silence. The film delves into the human costs of the 1965 mass killings under the so-called “communist eradication,” which were seen by many as a tactic for Suharto and his government to consolidate their power after taking over the country. The fact that Tempo, a well respected national publication in Indonesia, is writing about the film shows the desire of many to come to grips with history.
More than 10 years after the fall of the Suharto regime, many I speak with in Indonesia feel like they are finally regaining a voice. Recognizing this story, making a part of a public discourse, helps activists and civil society gain the confidence necessary to once again engage in national politics. Condemning the violent suppression of dissent helps create the space for citizens to organize and mobilize for change.

All the good thoughts in the world to the people of Padang, Sumatra.

Weekend of September 4th, 2009. A much needed voyage out of DC to visit friends at the University of Virginia’s Law School.

The weekend included a group hike on a Saturday morning with a diverse (read: brilliant, bizarre, multinational, angry, oblivious, exhausted, etc) group of mostly third year law students.

Observations

More than one encounter helped me to re-learn the counterproductive nature of expectations and assumptions. I assumed that third year law students at a top ten law school, poised to jump into a legal career, would be somehow immune to ideologically charged beliefs that afflict the rest of us. Great intelligence by no means means that a person does not have uncompromising beliefs about the way that people should be, the way government should be, the way the world should be. Indeed, a future corporate lawyer can be as libertarian as anyone (one new friend would like to see the government “protect our shores” and otherwise stay out of the affairs of citizens and the practice of businesses – the forces of the market, and “might makes right,” would provide the services that people need and would maintain peace).

What is also incredible is how impassioned discussions of things like this would leave no residue of ill will amongst the law students. One sentence may sound like fightin’ words, and the next is a jovial passing of pints of beer on the occasion of a UVA touchdown.

Reluctantly stepping out of the dark house into the burning August sun, after a lazy Sunday morning, I mounted my trusty red bicycle and headed south down 7th street towards the Smithsonian. There is a wonderful gallery of Spanish armour circa 1400-1600 or so in the NGA.

The instantly recognizable echo of brass and bass drums was completely out of place in the deserted sun-washed streets and row houses. As was the crowd of people dressed completely in white radiating out in small goups from the huge crowd gathered on M street. Out of place for me, because it was completely outside of my experience.

Drawn into the fray, I found myself in the middle of at least three brass bands, belting out soul-shaking music as if to topple the soul-less new buildings that have popped up along 7th street over the past few years, threatening scenes of community and faith like this one. The groups seemed spontaneous, improvised, but again only because I had no idea what was going on. It was quite the opposite – these groups were tight, and loud, and they were driven by an all-encompassing passion and faith that I can envy.

This white boy from Minnesota couldn’t have been more out of place in the crowd, but I felt completely at home.

I joined the crowd, stomping the pavement in time with the base drum that was dictating our heart beats. The event was celebrating a Baptism that had just finished inside the church.

The Secretary of State debriefs after a marathon of meetings with African leaders and citizens, the President defends health care reform at town hall meetings across the USA and takes his family to Old Faithful (what is more “American”?), and interest groups spend tens of millions of dollars battling each other for the hearts and minds of the masses.

Yet here am I, taking the Sunday off to peddle and sweat my way across our nation’s capital. A good day.

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Located on the hundred year old Miller farm, nestled between Rush Lake and Buchanan Lake outside Ottertail, Minnesota, the family run Grass Roots Greenhouses has redefined itself in a new location and with a new mission. The retail site has “come home,” now inseparable from its organic plant production, reducing waste and creating a more genuine, exciting experience for visitors. The site also includes the long-incubated Center for NonViolence. Other innovations include Wireless in the Woods for those who want to be connected to both nature and the digital world at the same time, and even pet chickens.

Kat and her mom, Lake Geneva, WI.

Happy hour with Papa, Erik and Micah at Figlio. Best happy hour in Uptown, still.

Always ready for biking in Minnesota…

The freeloader (other than Ted) Molly and Jason that stays at Molly and Jason’s place rent-free.

Mom, in Ottertail, talking to Veena, in Malaysia.

The uncertainties of our times has brought into the popular discourse an insecurity that it has not seen for generations. We look back at decades of unquestioned prosperity and realize that the safety net on which we garnered a sense of safety has become a frail economic one while our social and civil society safety nets have grown loose fallen into disrepair. Far too many people took for granted the arrival a next paycheck, the ability to make improvements on their home simply by borrowing more money against the value of that same home. Not only have we not thought to put resources aside, assuming that new money would always be available, we also failed to invest in the civil society structures that could support us in the event that that next paycheck did not come.

There is even increasing fear in countries around the world that financial instability is fostering potentially violent public dissent. What could happen to the millions of young, formerly employed Chinese laborers? What happened in the suburbs of Paris to the masses of disenfranchised, unemployed?

No wonder there has been increased interest in the cooperative model of doing business, as well as other business models that have been called “for benefit” enterprises, as opposed to simply for profit. Coops and these other businesses recognize the health and improvement of their communities and society as one of a set of bottom lines, along with making a profit. In the case of cooperatives, the customers of the business are also the owners of the business. Anything but the promotion of the well being and sustainability of the communities they serve would run counter to the business’s own interests.

Credit Unions, the cooperative model in the banking sector, is an especially timely example, as America witnesses crumbling faith in so many of its banks. The owners of these credit unions have no incentive to risk the money of the bank’s depositors/ members – indeed, these people are one and same.

A recent article in Strategy + Business magazine, published by the consulting firm Booz and Company, is but one appearance in the press about how more and more businesses are starting to recognize the need, and benefit, to address social concerns along with the pursuit of profit, whether it is environmental sustainability of the education of the community.

If the incentives to do so are obvious, the consequences of not doing so will prove catastrophic.

At the first general meeting of the Child Care Cooperative group, after a month-long effort by the elected steering committee to perform a market analysis, feasibility study, and an examination of the business model, the 15 present potential members voted unanimously to move forward with the formation of the cooperative. There are risks and challenges inherent in the starting of any new business, of course, but this enterprise offers perhaps more promise for success and more potential benefit for both the members and the community than most.

The next meeting begins the important and meticulous process of actually turning the concept into a reality – not to mention a finanial commitment by all those who wish to be a founding member. Not a huge sum, but perhaps a turning point in the mentality of those involved. They are dedicated to making this happen.