Emergent Strategy: Shaping Change, Changing Worlds
By Adrienne Maree Brown
Our author this week, Adrienne Maree Brown, says that “the world is full of beauty, magic, miracles, and patterns that induce wonder.” Well, so is this book. She writes with the flare of a lightning bug, illuminating one thought before taking an artful swoop to the next idea. The reader is invited to engage nonlinearly--to find their way through these pages however makes most sense to them. I was struck by the amount of pleasure I experienced, reading at my own pace with my own curiosities, and the amount of artistry it takes for an author to facilitate an embodied experience through written words. If you are looking for facilitation tools for workshops about climate. If you are seeking solace before the election. This is a book for you. “This is...a book about the preciousness of time. It’s limited and it’s so sacred, friends. And everything we do, every single thought and action and relationship and institution, everything is practice ground.”
"Emergence is our inheritance as a part of this universe; it is how we change. Emergent strategy is how we intentionally change in ways that grow our capacity to embody the just and liberated worlds we long for.”
Would you like to engage with our book club further? Leave a comment here or email firstname.lastname@example.org.
Our next Book Club Recommendation comes with a special way to get involved over the next 10 weeks. See below for a chance to join our Circle with Artistic Director, Gail Tierney. Our All We Can Save Circle begins Saturday Oct 17, at 11am Eastern.
This is a book that will stay with me for life. Because it has changed me. Because it matters. Because it loved and saw my friend in a way I cannot.
I come back to these poems over and over. I read them aloud. I pour over the pages, knowing that it’s an honor to hold the carefully chosen words as a witness.
The anthology contains ten cycles, which are thematically arranged. The poems can be read in dialogue with one another--almost as though you, the reader, are sitting in a chair by a fireplace while the conversation extends deep into the night, grappling with the full complexity of history, politics, protests, and joy.
I cannot recommend this book highly enough. Buy it for yourself. Buy it for a friend. Take it in at your own pace, and know that it will stir you.
If you have read any of the books in our collection, and would like to start a conversation, please email Artistic Director, Gail Tierney at email@example.com.
The Unlikely Thru-Hiker: An Appalachian Trail Journey
By Derick Lugo
This summer, our Artistic Staff has been especially curious about the concept of trails. We observed many people turning to nature, as they’re able, to get through quarantine. Through time, there have been a multiplicity of reasons that humans have journeyed outdoors, and not all of them are enlightening or by choice. I’m so excited to share the art that emerged from our creative process with you soon!
In the meantime, Derick Lugo’s trail story is so worth a read. I laughed HARD and felt a desire to use a flashlight when reading these pages before bed. He gifted readers a glimpse into the transformation that happened for him along the Appalachian Trail. As a lifelong city-dweller, Lugo describes his evolving relationship with the thousands of miles of ground he covered during a “thru-hike” or multi-month walk from Georgia to Maine. Give this a read if you’re looking for a rewarding and lighthearted tale.
Enjoy this interview with the author, and learn more here.
American Wolf: A True Story of Survival and Obsession in the West
By Nate Blakeslee
I heard about this book while attending a webinar about historically noteworthy women in Yellowstone National Park. It tells the tale of O-Six, an alpha female wolf who lived in the region. You may have heard about her--she became pretty famous in 2012 because of the politics surrounding her death. The “sanitization” and subsequent conservation of the wolf population in our country is one of the most dramatic stories around!
While I learned volumes about the complexity of social dynamics amongst the wolf population (and there’s some crazy stuff to learn!), I also grew acquainted with the people who watch, hunt, and live as neighbors to those packs. As someone who has spent the majority of her life on the East Coast, Midwest, or living abroad, I was eager to witness the impact of the government’s pattern of “selling access to the West’s rich resources.” As Blakeslee articulates, “residents of a place like Idaho, where fully two-thirds of the land is federally owned, don’t make decisions about how the resources in their own backyards should be used. Instead...people all over the country...feel that they should have a say in how the West is managed, because it belongs to them just as much as anybody who actually lives there” (128).
As we’ve seen with other Book Club selections, our relationships with public land should necessarily be complicated. The concepts of land “ownership” and “control” are fraught with damaging implications. I benefited greatly from absorbing another perspective through this story. If you’re interested in talking about it more, send me a message at firstname.lastname@example.org.
An Indigenous Peoples' History of the United States (REVISIONING HISTORY Book 3)
By Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz
Dunbar-Ortiz doesn’t just correct the history books—she precisely constructs the template for US American settler colonialism that has echoed in refrains across oceans and over decades of political leaders. She is comprehensive in her approach—as we all should be when considering the pervasive history of violence towards Indigenous populations—sparing no person from scrutiny. She is just as convicting as late Native historian Jack Forbes, who said, “While living persons are not responsible for what their ancestors did, they are responsible for the society they live in, which is a product of that past” (235). By the end of this read, you will hold a new understanding of the relationships, betrayals, and pain that are the keystone to our country’s foundations.
This is a living, breathing history. It will make you hesitate before calling the Virginia Tech killings the “worst massacre” in US history (195). It may also encourage you to advocate for nationhood instead of genocide in your own civic actions. It is likely that you have been taught that the United States does not approve or encourage the killing of civilians. Unfortunately, that has never been true. Dunbar-Ortiz tells the bloody story of a people connected to the land “not as an economic resource but as a relationship between people and place, a profound feature of the resilience of the Indigenous peoples of the Americas” (208).
Are you reading our book club suggestions and interested in continuing the dialogue? Get in touch with email@example.com!
Clean and White follows the historical conflation of whiteness and cleanliness across every aspect of society. As a reader, we see archival evidence of advertising techniques—postcards that claim a soap will wash a Black person’s skin so clean that it becomes white. We are invited to approach the inscription on the Statue of Liberty with new eyes, correlating immigrants to refuse even in an invitation to enter the land. We hear about public health and perception—including the former belief that disease was caused solely by bad odors rather than bacteria as scientists later came to understand. We are also shown statistics about the risk and illness associated with managing industrial society’s waste and how BIPOC are disproportionately affected. We see formative examples that are distilled down to the root sources of environmental racism. In doing so, we are equipped to view living dynamics in our current society with more nuance.
With many of our books on this list, The Kaleidoscapes are asserting that all people deserve an environment where they may thrive. But if the cleanliness of our biosphere is intermingled with the ideals of white supremacy, that future cannot be possible.
Even if you don’t choose to read this book, ask yourself: Who does your “dirty work?” And do you afford them full personhood or might your underlying beliefs consider them dirtier than you?
Our very first Book Club meeting will be held on August 4th at 5pm EST! Fill out this RSVP to join. There’s no expectation that you’ve already read one of the books.
A few years ago, as the dream for this company was taking shape and I was recovering from a serious illness, I reached for this book. Florence Williams shares some of the physiological benefits of spending time outside. Her chapters travel around the world, sharing different perspectives that she witnessed firsthand. Her words became foundational to our team as we became emboldened to get audiences outside for our plays--however that may look in the different communities we engage.
Williams says it best, but if you are facing stress, get outside! It will lower your cortisol levels. It will fuel your work. It will remind you just how extraordinary this planet is that we get to call home.
Are you reading our book club suggestions and interested in continuing the dialogue? Get in touch with firstname.lastname@example.org! And stay tuned for an upcoming project about The Kaleidoscapes’ interpretation of traces during the pandemic.
Trace: Memory, History, Race and the American Landscape
By Lauret Savoy
Savoy offers her readers a glimpse of how it is to exist outside of the binary of Black or White in the United States.
She has captured the difficulty of that meaning-making on the page and suggested brilliant and revitalizing approaches to United Statesian history, as indicated in the following passage:
“A wiser measure of the ecological footprint would include people, or at least their labor. It might factor in the losses of relationships with land or home, losses of self-determination, and losses of health or life. What if the footprint measured, over time, on whom and what the nation’s foot has trod—that is, who has paid for prosperity?” (43).
Ultimately, she invites us to consider our own inner landscapes and the ways that skin color so often affects history and identity in relation to place.
Are you reading our book club suggestions and interested in continuing the dialogue? Get in touch with email@example.com! And stay tuned for an upcoming project about The Kaleidoscapes’ interpretation of traces during the pandemic as we move towards Stage 3 of re-opening in many states.
Black Faces, White Spaces
Written by Emilie Winter, Community Engagement Coordinator of The Kaleidoscapes
I first came across Carolyn Finney's book Black Faces, White Spaces in my last year of college, while I worked on my senior thesis. My thesis was about the racialization of outdoor spaces. I drew so much from Finney's work, as I attempted to better understand the relationships of race and nature as well as race and recreation in the U.S and Brazil. This particular book revealed that the nature of these very relationships is a complex one, both historical and geographically contingent.
I approached this body of work as a white Brazilian woman, who resides in and has traveled throughout the United States. The differences between these two nations could not be more distinct, a point that was driven home during a recent family visit to Telluride, Colorado. I was visiting family there one summer, and I quickly realized that this resort mountain town was overwhelmingly white. People of color were almost entirely absent in the shops, on the streets or on the ski slopes. I asked my aunt – a 45-year-old white woman who has lived there for 25 years- why that was the case. Her response to me was: “well Emilie, Black people don’t like mountains”. Black. People. Don’t. Like. Mountains…? Not only was this statement completely apolitical and ahistorical, but also I knew from my own experiences that this statement was simply not true. How did such a false perception like my aunt's become a dominant narrative that seems to be ingrained in the minds of white America?
In this book, Finney explores why and how Black communities are so underrepresented when it comes to interest in nature, outdoor recreation, and environmentalism. Finney states that the “stories of environmental experiences for many African Americans are often explicitly embedded in the larger historical context in which they took place” (p. 62). I recommend this book to those who want to persist in unfolding this larger context, those who want to challenge distorted notions of systemic racism in outdoor spaces. Finney provides the reader with a kind of knowledge that too often goes unheard -- her writing is inviting and provocative at the same time. She cleverly uses language that is accessible to non-academia folks, while also challenging and shifting paradigms so many of us hold with racial identity and its relationship with the Great Outdoors.