Planting the Past, Present, and Future
Mom, more gardens, Leny Strobel, Our Chinatown, NYC and Seattle community gardens, Amy Denet Deal, Dmitry Shevchenko, Cory Morrison, Tony Testa, Zara McFarlane.
HERE & NOW
Lately, I’ve made some [literally] small attempts at gardening (see also my previous post on Monterey’s “secret gardens”). And I’m still musing about my mom, Trinidad. She approached everything she chose to do—whether it was cooking, gardening, sewing, or being a member of Filipino organizations—with undaunted fervor. I never quite felt that I could approach her gardening skill, so I shied away from it and decided I was not the gardening type—although I did learn a few things from her—like how to properly prune a rosebush, and how to snatch twig “cuttings” from a hedge or tree in the Safeway parking lot, which she could then propagate in her garden. She was a bit of a “guerrilla gardener” in that regard—and occasionally recruited me to be her twig thief.
If you read my last issue, you might be guessing that Mom loomed large in my life. That’s because she raised me almost like a single mother since my dad was at sea all the time. She and I were a unit in a little sea of suburban uncertainty. Living as a Filipina and her daughter in a working class, post-war, mostly white neighborhood (where every family had the prescribed mom + dad and two-or-more children), she must have felt self-conscious. But she was also determined; she became quite independent during this period, and wielded it with authority when she could.
She learned her independence from her own mother, Matea, my lola (grandmother), who also lived as a single mom, especially after she split—and not amicably—with my grandfather. To survive after that, she started a small family farm, grew her own vegetables, and sold them in the palenke in Iba, Zambales. Mom’s fondest memories are of helping her grow vegetables on the farm.
Anyway . . . where was I? Right. Gardens. Now that I live in a rental, I generally leave gardening to my partner, who has been successful in growing some of our kitchen veggies in pots. Lately, however, I’ve made some tentative steps. As always, I tend to start small. I made a tiny moss “garden” with an alien inhabitant. Since it’s almost summer, the moss is going dormant, and a few “decorative” weeds have planted themselves in the pot, so I decided to leave them in to serve as the summer/fall replacements:
Then, having attended the local horticulture fair just down the street, I picked up a free packet of wildflowers, so I decided to plant them in three small pots:
At first, my partner had to remind me to water them. And I can almost hear Mom chiding me for neglecting that. Sometimes plants need a little help! And now they are growing. I keep thinking: maybe just one more pot of something . . .?
Kapwa and Interconnectedness:
Leny Strobel’s recent post on FB about kapwa started me thinking about best practices for people in the age of the internet. While I have spent more time than necessary reading, posting [complaining] about, and resisting various aspects of corporate internet culture, including AI, I remember that, once upon a time, the internet was a great way to connect with people—not a way to spy on them and extract their time and money. But there are some things that naturally counter the worst of its current failures. Remembering and engaging with the world and beings around me, for instance, i.e., the local world, at my feet and all around. Here is Leny’s approach:
How Kapwa works:
I open FB and IG. Because I'm interested in what my friends are up to, I start scrolling through their posts. I take note of everything they do: who got published; who got tenured; who became a Lola; who is traveling; who is making tiktok reels; who keeps collecting memes; who writes about Grief; who writes about being in recovery, etc.
And then I whisper a prayer:
Please be safe. Please be happy.
Please be well.
Then I log off. I carry your memory into the garden and Release.
Because my other kapwa await my communion, too -- the flowers, soil, rocks, birds, chickens.... — Leny Strobel
As a Buddhist, I sometimes silently murmur something similar: “May you be free from suffering, may you be well and at peace,” etc., which I realize is also an expression of interconnectedness and kapwa. I, too, release that into the world.
ART
I’ve done a lot of thinking about visual art, but not any making. No apologies. I did practice the editor’s art and produced a book for Asian Cultural Experience: Our Salinas Chinatown.
The book goes beyond Steinbeck’s East of Eden perspective of Salinas Chinatown, which for decades has been home to Chinese, Japanese, Filipino, and Mexican immigrants and Black residents and business owners. Our Salinas Chinatown brings forth memoirs from 22 people who have lived and worked in that neighborhood. That also includes artists, service workers, and people unhoused and hoping to transition to housing. It will be available to purchase online, after we work out a few kinks in the online payment process. For now, contact acesalinas2014@gmail.com to purchase a copy.
LINKS
Hattie Carthan, Liz Christy, and Yonette Fleming brought trees back to Brooklyn and the Bowery:
The Danny Woo community garden in Seattle’s Chinatown, where many of the gardeners are older folks (King5 Seattle) :
An interesting point is made in the Danny Woo garden video: Working with plants requires taking care of plants, yes, but also yourself. It makes you get up, go outside, and start working. A community garden connects you with other people.
Looking around at my own neighborhood in Monterey, the only “community” garden in the area is off limits to neighbors, available solely to students and faculty of Middlebury Institute. So it’s really a “university garden” despite the tantalizing “Community Garden” sign. I wish there was a community garden within walking distance of my home. Why don’t more senior centers and organizations have community gardens?
Amy Denet Deal grew up in an adoptive family. Adopted away from her Diné community, she made her way into the global corporate fashion world and became what people call “successful.” But one day she decided to find her home in New Mexico and start over again. Juliette interviews Amy Denet Deal of 4Kinship:
Steel and Chamomile: Ukrainian blacksmith Dmitry Schevchenko forges Damascus steel from calligraphy nibs to make a beautiful blade (with a break for tea) that’s also an homage to chamomile, a widely used folk medicine in Ukraine. No narration or music. Just the sounds of forging and creating:
Cory Morrison makes art from foraged items, and makes paper from grass. The latter is not exactly unusual, for paper making, but the surprise for me was the fact that okra had a role to play as a binder, of sorts, and then there was what he did with the paper after it was made!
SOUNDINGS
Dancer/choreographer Tony Testa disintegrates/integrates into the Earth:
Zara McFarlane composed, produced, and performed the original music for Testa’s video. Here she is singing “Salt Water”:
Thanks for visiting, and thanks to those who have supported my work!
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@jeanevergreen at montereybay.social