Inherent Dignity

 I was twenty.

I lived and worked in the Rheinhessen region of Germany. I busked at a bar occasionally and had fuzzy dreadlocks. My favourite skirt had been made from an old pair of jeans torn open at the inside seams and resown together with Sesame Street patches of Elmo and the Grouch.

My blue suede runners were two distinctly different shades. I’d talked the sales lady into giving me a discount. :)

And now I was wandering on foot through the town of Worms (Vvurms!) looking for a friend’s apartment to crash at. I had a guitar and a huge backpack with the obligatory Canadian flag. And I was lost.

The side roads were starting to look a little sketchy. I‘d stopped trying to find my friends’ place and decided I’d settle for an urban centre with a coffee shop (no cell phone... it was the dark ages still). But try as I might, every turn I made seemed to lead me onto an even narrower and more isolated street. The row apartment buildings were tall and tightly shuttered like those Easter Island heads with their eyes and mouths squeezed shut.

I turned a corner and walked into a group of young men hanging out on the street. They were laughing and talking loudly in a language I didn’t recognize. Dark-skinned, baggy clothes and bright bandannas.
The group fell silent. I nodded and smiled and kept walking. My bag was so heavy. My arm hurt from carrying my guitar.

One of the guys peeled away from his group and began following me. He began to shout. ‘Hey, girl! What are you doing, pretty lady? Nice ass...”

There was NO ONE on the street. His footsteps quickened behind me. “Come on, girl...” I began to weigh my options. I could drop my stuff and run. I could scream. I could turn and attack, try to take him by surprise.

And then I heard a voice inside of me: strong and clear as a bell. As the words filled me, my body grew still, and peace washed over me. The words were:

“Give him his dignity.”

I didn’t think. I set my guitar down and turned around with a smile and an outstretched hand. The man was only a pace or two behind me. He reacted without thinking, and his hand fell into mine. It was awkward, but we shook hands. As soon as our palms connected, I knew I was safe.

“Hello! My name is Charity. What’s your name?”

He responded on instinct. Despite a start of surprise, he introduced himself. I asked about his family, I shared about mine. He told me he was a refugee from North Africa looking to support his mother and sister. I shared some of my adventures travelling in Europe.

As we spoke, I couldn’t help but read the confusion on his face. But he was smiling. We both were. We’d made a connection.

The conversation wound down, he asked me if I’d like to go for coffee with him. I told him how great it had been to meet him, but I had a friend waiting for me.

He shook my hand again, and we parted. He walked back the way he’d come: easily, his head high, his hands in his pockets.

I found my friend’s apartment half a block away. I’d been going in the right direction the entire time.

:) God bless.

Come my Child (An original song by me!)

 For me, poetry flows out in verse and melody. I’m not the most amazing musician but the words matter to me. :) Enjoy!

Vancouver’s Dropping Water Table

"So, does your work involve the Fraser Watershed around here?"

I ask her because I'm interested. I know that the Fraser Valley is extremely fertile farmland, with agricultural resources shrinking because of development. I also once heard a story about Vancouver's vanished rivers: all diverted and paved over as the city grew.

I know the Fraser river is essential. I hear about the conservation efforts around this mighty water source and the dwindling salmon stocks. I also feel the effects of longer, dryer summers and tight water restrictions. I wonder if Christy has the answers.

She laughs. Her eyes peek over her cloth mask. They are steely-grey, kind, and long-suffering. Her softness, however, is built around an iron core.

"Oh no," she says, "we work outside of the Fraser Basin."

"So, what area do you work in?"

"Just one."

"One what?"

"One river."

My friend Christy Juteau is a biologist working with A Rocha Canada, an environmental stewardship organization with a spectacular conservation center here in the lower mainland. Christy spends her days studying and fighting to restore the endangered waters of the Little Campbell River.

I try to wrap my mind around her answer. There must be hundreds of rivers in BC. Christy is trying to save one.

Like most waterways near urbanization and agricultural land development, the Little Campbell River has experienced flooding, loss of wetlands and forest habitat, and the depletion of underground water resources. This watercourse winds through Langley, South Surrey, White Rock and empties into Semiahmoo bay. It services a floodplain, an estuary and several wetlands. 

The problem seems too big, and how much does the fate of a stream really matter? Despite my best intentions, a small part of my brain glazes over as Christy talks. I live in the suburbs. I care about nature and habitat loss, but it also feels like an "out there" problem. I often think of nature as something that I "go out to."

But I'm wrong. No one can exist outside of an environmental system, even a seemingly invisible one. I know this because of the long hot summers, the smoke in the sky when the forests burn, and the rocket-like increase of insurance premiums related to flooding.

Our human-made solutions for the movement of resources and waste are woefully flawed, and we are feeling the harm. With our future wellbeing in the balance, it's time we start to think of natural ecosystems as something to be built into our communities versus being built out of them.

An example of this is our stormwater infrastructure. You know, the little sewer grate on the side of the road where the water flushes away? Sometimes there's a yellow fish painted next to it to let you know that it empties into a spawning stream. When the rain comes, stormwater drains save our communities from flooding by flushing massive amounts of rainwater and contaminants into our rivers and out to sea.

We need this stormwater infrastructure, also called 'grey infrastructure,' because of the thousands of kilometres of concrete that stop the earth from naturally absorbing the water. Before extensive human development, the ground absorbed and filtered the rain we get every year and then emptied its waters into the underground streams and aquifers. Now, the rain comes smashing down upon an impervious tabletop of roads, roofs and parking lots. In a race to prevent floods, we can't flush it away fast enough. The rainwater mixes with toxic pollutants from dog waste to the chemicals in rubber tires. It is then dumped directly into groundwater-fed streams, causing them to burst their banks and depositing piles of polluted muck that kills off the fish before they have a chance to spawn.

At least… that's what happens in the rainy seasons. Because we flush our winter rain out to the ocean, there is less water to feed BC's underground water sources. Sections of streams vanish completely every summer, stranding fish and further destroying animal habitats. Even with global warming and longer, hotter summers, there shouldn't be a need for painful water restrictions. We should have more than enough stored in the natural underground aquifers beneath our feet. But we don't. We are flushing our own water resources literally down the drain.

The connection is surprisingly straightforward. As shown in the graph below, when more than 10% of our land is covered in impervious surfaces (compacted soil, roads, roofs, sidewalks, etc.) it is destructive to our local streams and wetlands.

Once the amount of impervious surface cover rises above 25%, stream banks collapse, and the water quality kills only but the hardiest of species. Sources of clean drinking water are destroyed.

This figure from the University of Maryland shows us just what stream degradation looks like, the species are different than here in BC, but the damage is the same:

Now, here again, is the map of the Little Campbell River watershed, BC, Canada.

This is the area that my friend Christy Juteau studies. Much of spreads across an area that we in the lower mainland would consider relatively low development. It is full of giant rolling parcels of land for private and agricultural use. In 2019 Christy and her team examined and measured the land using aerial imagery research on land use. They concluded that this pastoral swath of land was at about 18% impervious cover.

The impervious surface of high-density metropolitan areas like greater Vancouver is observably much higher. I couldn't find any exact numbers, but I think it's telling that Greater Vancouver recommends that a single-family lot for redevelopment should have no more than 70% impervious area. It's also only a recommendation, and it doesn't include commercial, high-density, and existing developments where impervious cover can be as high as 90-100%

Here are some pictures of Vancouver's lost streams: waterways that are buried or no longer exist at all.

James, Herbert and Hugh Matthews in a canoe on the south shore of False Creek c. 1902

Christy's job revolves around the restoration of her river. Still, she's not going to get far as long as toxic flooding in the winter and depleting underground water resources choke the river. To save the Little Campbell River, the ecosystem it supports, and our own freshwater resources, we need to change.

The good news? Change is possible and begins at a municipal level. Like Christy, look to the ground beneath your feet. Feel the earth and realize your dependence and connection to it. When we develop the land beneath us without considering the natural systems we are displacing, we borrow time from our future livelihoods.

And happily, while the problem is complex, there are many innovative solutions available. Rain gardens are one of them. 

Volunteers Oliver Xie and Carolynne Robertson get digging during a demonstration of the North Shore Rain Garden Project held at Capilano Mall Saturday. photo Ben Bengtson, North Shore News

Rain gardens are an example of "green" stormwater management. Some other ideas include increased tree cover, downspout disconnection, rainwater harvesting, grassed swales, green roofs, and bio-retention areas. This type of infrastructure allows our earth to reclaim and filter the deluge of rain that falls here in the winter. It gives BC's underground water resources a chance to replenish and feeds our waterways in a way that protects the food chain.

While it is encouraging to see this type of infrastructure beginning to gain some attention, most of it is installed by volunteers through "demonstration" projects. If we are going to build our cities for the future, this type of rainwater management needs to become the norm and not the exception. At the moment, the cost is considered prohibitive and adds thousands of dollars to any new development project. These types of systems also require a budget for regular maintenance. However, just as it is currently cheaper to produce virgin plastic products than using recycled materials, flushing our water away from cities destroys wildlife habitats and borrows directly from our future.

How can you help? Write to your city council and let them know that the use of green infrastructure matters to you! Tell your favourite voted representative that you do not want further development without consideration for responsible resource management. If you happen to live in the Township of Langley as I do, engage with the city's climate action plan by adding your voice to this survey:

https://www.tol.ca/at-your-service/sustainability/climate-action/

Let's bring nature back into the city.

A special thanks to A Rocha Canada for their conservation work and tireless commitment to environmental restoration.

References:

https://arocha.ca/where-we-work/brooksdale/little-campbell-river/

https://www.watercanada.net/feature/sustainable-stormwater-management/

http://www.metrovancouver.org/services/liquid-waste/LiquidWastePublications/StormwaterSourceControlDesignGuidelines2012StormwaterSourceControlDesignGuidelines2012.pdf

https://citeseerx.ist.psu.edu/viewdoc/download?doi=10.1.1.627.5788&rep=rep1&type=pdf

Impervious Surfaces in French Creek Rick Guthrie, M.Sc., P.Geo., Regional Geomorphologist And John Deniseger, R.P.Bio., Environmental Impact Biologist Ministry of Water, Land and Air Protection Vancouver Island British Columbia 2001 

Restoring Streams/ University of Maryland Center for Environmental Science

https://www.umces.edu/research-highlights/restoring-streams

https://dnr.maryland.gov/streams/Pages/streamhealth/How-Impervious-Surface-Impacts-Stream-Health.aspx

Region‐wide Baseline for On‐site Stormwater Management February 2017 For use on Single‐lot Residential Development in the Greater Vancouver Sewerage and Drainage District.

file:///C:/Users/chari/AppData/Local/Packages/microsoft.windowscommunicationsapps_8wekyb3d8bbwe/LocalState/Files/S0/1866/Attachments/Region-wideBaselineOnsiteStormwaterManagement-Feb2017[3641].pdf

https://www.nsnews.com/community/north-shore-rain-garden-project-demonstrates-natural-technology-1.23953643

https://fraserstreetstories.ca/lost-streams-of-vancouver/

https://vancouver.ca/home-property-development/green-infrastructure.aspx

https://www.tol.ca/at-your-service/sustainability/climate-action/

Something Has Got to Give

Five months.

Five months since my kids were pulled from school and my world as I knew it disappeared. I mourned every activity erased from the calendar. I had spent the first part of the year proudly building my career as a contract writer when suddenly my kids were home all day, and my small-business clients vanished.

Instead, housework tripled, and I was supposed to teach math in french (my kids are in an immersion program). Writing... well... I started a garden instead. It got me (and the kids) outside.

Jump ahead five months.

I'm on the couch, reviewing my journal entries:

Depression and anxiety can become debilitating for me. Because of this, I keep meticulous notes. I journal about my mood, thoughts, physical well-being and activities every day.

Every Friday, I go a bit more in-depth, reviewing my short-hand notes and recording my anxiety and depression levels on a chart... I know, I'm kind of a huge nerd. I even have different coloured pens to record the different types of symptoms. :P

I review my notes and notice that I have not had a single anxiety attack since April 17, the same week we went into lockdown. 

I dig a little deeper. I re-read my notes and journal entries. I’m surprised to realize that my contract writing, which brought me money and a sense of worth, had been making me miserable. I’m much happier now... and I’ve got the charts to prove it. 

I'm not sure what this means. It's an insight that I'm turning about in my brain, like an oyster wearing on a bit of sand.

Is it me that needs to change?

Or is it the nature of the work that needs to be adjusted?

Something has got to give.

I'm just not quite sure what.

I’ll let you know when I do

:P

Tall and Short Poppy Syndrome (Daring to Be All You Can Be)

A friend of mine was once given a rewarding job position, achieved solely on the bases of her natural talent. She is a kind-hearted and loving person, who like many of us, is absolutely crushed by the idea that someone might think poorly of her.

But it still happened, and it continues. Surprisingly, in an industry dominated by males, most of her conflict has come from other women. Vicious rumours are spread 'she must be sleeping with someone,' she's 'a liar,' she thinks 'she's better than us.' And so on...

It's called tall poppy syndrome.
It's when, in a society that values egalitarianism, anyone who achieves any type of 'higher' social status is attacked and 'cut down' so they can be at the same level as everybody else.

Now,

Thankfully, unlike my beautiful and talented friend, I've not had to struggle against this too much in life. But I do wrestle with the reverse: something I like to think as 'short poppy syndrome.' I define it as the fear of being perceived as prideful, of making others jealous, or worrying that success will damage the relationships around you. It also involves self-doubt: thinking that your talent is 'just not good enough' and others will scorn you for trying to use it.

So what did I do? I shrank. I ducked and hid. I would scrawl on an art pad hunched deep inside of a black hoodie, shooting eye daggers at anyone who might dare to look. My songs stayed in my journal, my manuscript languished unfinished on the computer. My paintings were underdeveloped.

Thankfully, this time of my life was pretty short-lived. But I have struggled in lesser degrees with 'short poppy syndrome' in different areas for years. For the longest time, I decided that I was only allowed to be good at one thing. I could say I was a decent painter, but never breathe a word about writing or vice versa. The idea of claiming a general aptitude in most things creative? (Except reupholstering furniture. Gave it a shot, was trapped in bar stool hell for three weeks. NEVER again) That was too much. Only a terrible person would claim to be good at more than one thing!

But I'm growing, and daring to shine.

So, what if, instead of shrinking (short poppy) or attacking others for daring to rise (tall poppy), we lifted each other up? What if we dared to stand tall in the talents and gifts we have, developing and enjoying them all the while praising and encouraging others along their journey?

And what are we so afraid of that we don't do this? No two painters use the same strokes. No writer can share the same story in the same voice. Yes, there are different skill levels, but that is something that can be developed. Your passion is incredible and unique and deserves to be developed and shared. My work is not lessened by your greatness; if anything, we can only both grow and learn from each other.

Yes, we are human, and our egos are oh so fragile. We have to fight against jealousy, recognizing that to be jealous of someone else is to forget the value of our own unique gifts. But I want to challenge all of us to try. We can be better. Stand tall, and declare who you are and what you can do. Act in true humility without embellishing or diminishing the value of your work. Shine brightly and make space to allow others to shine as well. Offer your gifts to those around you with an open hand, and know that rejection of your work still does not diminish your personal value or the inherent value of what you can do.

And if we do? I suspect that the world around us may grow into a place filled with music, colour, dance, laughter, surprise, and yummy homemade treats.

:D

So, what’s your gift?

How I keep my New Year’s Resolutions (Hint, I don’t)

Step one: Focus. Define what I want. Make it specific. Create long and short term goals. I outline the steps I need to get there. I kick distractions to the curb.

Step Two: Make a plan. To make it fun I use a giant calendar and lots of stickers. I write it down and schedule time to work on my goals.

Step Three: Get knocked on my a**. 😂Circumstances change, kids get sick. Creative projects I wanted to focus on get shoved aside for a job that makes money. I wear a pair of tall sexy heels and trip, wrenching my knee. I gain two pounds. :P

Step Four: Change my heels for sweats and a knee brace. Mope for a day.

Step Five: Reach out to good friends for encouragement and direction. I’m not a looser, I’m human.

Step Six: I build again: this time with better materials. I redefine my goals with new knowledge from lessons learned. Write down a plan. Schedule it.

Step Seven: Remind myself that I not a failure when it all falls apart again. (Because it will) Failure is a natural part of my cycle. No one can be “up” all the time.

:) Thank you friends for your love and support. I’d never make it without you. <3

It’s a Brand New Year!

Happy New Year!

I had a great break, and I’m ready to go back to work. Mentally, it was nice to not spend energy on thinking about the future and to just be present with my family.

But now the kids are back to school, and all my creative energy is just bubbling out. I’ve got so many hopes and plans for the future that I just know I’m going to crash and burn by the end of January.

Or will I?

I came across this lovely lady over the break, and I find her really encouraging. Her video gave me a light-hearted way to sort through what I really wanted over the next year.

After I did this, my husband I sat down together one evening with a calendar and a banking app. We discussed what we wanted in the year to come, and took a close look at our finances, choosing to save in some places and splurge in others. I really enjoyed the opportunity to connect and dream with my husband and it’s nice knowing we’re on the same page when it comes to our goals.

Using a calendar and scheduling my year/month/week/day used to be a big source of anxiety for me. Just looking at the mountain of stuff to be done was overwhelming. I grew up in a culture that valued flexibility and spontaneity. I thought of scheduled people as uptight and inflexible, unscheduled people were happy-go-lucky free-spirits.

But the practice of writing down goals (and scratching off unrealistic ones) has freed me... because I schedule rest. I make family time, space for a coffee date, time for a nap, and space to eat a healthy meal with my feet up, and journaling for mental health all priorities. Things that I never allowed myself to do before (ie. drink wine and read a good book in a bubble bath) I look forward to now as little rewards for being disciplined with errands and unpleasant chores.

I also find that I am twice as productive. It’s such a strange new thing. Who knew that relaxing every few hours, meeting with friends, taking time to exercise, and getting enough sleep would actually give you more energy? :P

Finally, I’m learning to not drown in guilt when things don’t go right. I have tons of ‘down’ days. I crash, I feel lazy, I yell at the kids and burn dinner... but well, that’s totally NORMAL. No one can be on the ball all the time. I take a breath and look at it as my body telling me that once again, I’m taking on too much, either physically, mentally, or emotionally. Something is out of balance. I’m getting sick, or maybe I’m overwhelmed by a social situation that needs some addressing. I listen to my body and my emotions, I stop and spend the time I need to understand what’s going on so I can give myself the care I’m missing.

The last five years have been a pressure cooker for me, extreme sleep deprivation and a stressful living situation lead to a mental breakdown with the lingering effects of depression, anxiety and PTSD. I also developed a tear in my small intestine that lead to sudden, severe internal bleeding and a 911 call.

I’m not writing about self-care simply because it’s the trendy thing to do right now. I’m writing because I’ve been there, down in the trenches, and it almost killed me. Putting myself before work, laundry, dishes and everything else isn’t just a luxury, it’s what keeps me alive.

:)

I don’t want to end on a downer. I’m doing really well right now. My health has recovered and my brain is happy. :) My husband, my kids, and others have all reaped the benefits. Simply because the more I’ve got, the more I can give.

Happy New Year!