The Forge Press

July 4th is a day of independence. We have so much pride that Americans are now free from being part of the British empire. People today celebrate with hotdogs and burgers, a cookout, and at night, fireworks that light up the night skies.

To some, the Fourth is held with great pride, proud to be an American, proud to feel what this country has done and is doing. But to some, the 4th is just another day. A day with extra food, and to some it is sleepless nights that are loud; mind racing, heart beating, bringing back the past and longing to be home safe in one's bed.

Are we free when history is being rewritten? Are we free when people are going hungry, when people are locked in cages, when people are being shot in our streets? Yeah, what is there to be proud about when patriotic feelings are threats? What is there to celebrate when knowing that our military is attacking other countries, knowing that we are the bullies? What is there to be proud of?

250 years of independence. 250 years of greatness and independence but for who? Because for some, there has not been 250 years of freedom and independence.

For so many of us, there has never been 250 years of freedom. There has only been 250 years of struggle, of harm, and of hurt. 250 years of broken promises and systemic violence. True independence isn't a cookout or a firework show; it is the freedom to live without fear, hunger, and oppression. Until we stop pretending this empire is a mirror of liberty, and actually do the work to forge communities that protect and uplift each other, there is no independence day for all of us. There is only the fight to finally make it a reality.

The doll people are invading our lands, compadre
They are invading with their dull flavors and
Calling borders that were not in existence into
Existence
This is getting serious now
So when they come, with their red hats and blue
Marble eyes, will you be ready for them?
Will you make them answer for the questions
That their ancestors created?
Will you make room for them in your hearts?
Let them steal your art and your hands and your eyes
For a second or gratification
For a bit of attention you didn't need to seek out
Do you seek them out, compadre?
The doll people are alive
Swarming borders that had not existed until now
Dulling our flavors and colors
Naming things that were already named
Do you seek them out?
Their tiny porcelain hands grasping for anything
And everything because they have never been
Told no
The doll people are alive, compadre
So do you seek them out?

"honor where you come from, honor where you're going"

"I painted these for a friend who missed his childhood home, but not enough to go back when doing so would mean leaving his new home forever. Borders imposed by imperialism and greed shouldn't force such choices."

Portal to Cuba

Portal to The Great North Wood

I don't think I've spent one day in the past few decades not looking these horrors in the face. I'm absolutely going to look at flowers every day too. If only to remember the berries are coming.

Showing up for people in their joy brings us more joy too, and I encourage building community, to share not only the weight of trauma but celebrations.

We need more fucking joy.

But urgency is urgent, and often there are emergencies. Celebrations will always be interrupted to prevent harm. And should be, when harm is preventable.

But that's why urgency is a tool of oppression. It steals joy. Whether there's harm or not, and there is definitely real harm. Another tool is lies and misinformation to scare us into panic, rashness, and paralysis. We are flooded with so much horror that we can't possibly pick a priority (or that's the goal).

The deluge of harm, both preventable and distant, steals our moments of rejuvenation and love. Let's say we could prevent almost all harm, not in some exclusionary "toxic positivity" way, but in real actionable and lasting ways. That will take, at the fastest, most revolutionary pace, a couple of generations. Because it took over 600 years to get this bad.

The more we succeed, the more things there are to protect. So whatever paradigm we build ourselves into now needs room for joy, for rest, and for berries.

I thought hard about "berries" as the metaphor here. Berries are a harvest celebration, a trade good, a food, a resource, a pleasure, and also they are work. It is something to protect.

People, especially those fighting and facing threats need to know it doesn't stop there. That we're growing food. That there is a tomorrow. And that we know "there's a tomorrow" isn't all only rainbows. There's still work, there's still things to protect.

Joy brings resilience. Please plant a lot of berries.

Afterward: Reading this brought to mind a book I recently finished called 'The Serviceberry'. It focuses on a gift economy, with reciprocity. If you are looking for your next read I would recommend this book to remind you that we need to help each other, and put each other first while protecting the Earth.

— Jo