The Community Immune System

#209, February 14, 2007

 

Ever on the lookout for new ways to popularize eco-socially sound behavior-- how to make kindness cool, green-ness something to be envied -- here is my latest discovery.

 

It began in the far-northern Mexico village of Petaluma. A gentleman grew increasingly frustrated as the things he loved came under attack from miscreants wielding felt-tip-pens. These vandals were having their way with his town and the people seemed powerless to stop it. When he read one blogger’s call for the City to abandon one of his beloved riverside pathways to the enemy, the gentleman could take no more. He fashioned a disguise out of day-glow cycling gear, brought his weapon of choice down from storage, and took to the trail.

 

He did not travel far before he encountered one of the enemy. Its tortured shape was sprawled across the “Bicycle Path” sign on the East Washington Creek Trail. The costumed figure drew up his two-wheeled steed, unsheathed The Liquidator, and with a zigzagging “swish-swish-swish”, the tag was wiped into oblivion. Behold! The Mark of Zeero!  He proceeded downstream, wiping out graffiti tags of all sizes and shapes. He couldn’t bring the shattered pathway lights back to life, and wasn’t prepared to deal with paint on concrete, but in little less than two hours, four dozen signs had been cleared of those crappy little scrawls.

 

Zeero… where could I take this? Zero tolerance for vandalism, zero tolerance for injustice, for destruction of Mother Earth. Zero waste, a life of elegant frugality. The power of nothing-to-lose, like the freedom achieved by Evey Hammond in the final scenes of “V for Vendetta.” Aesthetic asceticism, the power gained when one has extinguished self will. In Gandhi’s words, when you reduce yourself to zero, you become invincible. The Legend of Zeero...hey, why not?

 

Cleaning up pathway signs on Washington, Lynch, Petaluma and Thompson creeks was a satisfying way to spend a few hours of a crisp autumn afternoon, and I highly recommend it.  But, to be honest, the mythical hero fantasy, fun that is was, wasn’t a big motivator, and probably won’t inspire a corps of copycats. And that’s okay. The lone hero is a very popular American myth, but it’s more harmful than good—people who would otherwise be powerful are immobilized, forever waiting to be rescued by the great leader, the alpha wolf.

 

What we need more of is what I witnessed last Saturday, when close to 100 Petalumans gathered at La Tercera Park. A fortunate break in the rain allowed park neighbors, public safety officers, and City officials to convene an outdoor conversation about how to “take back our park” from the vandals and druggies. One person, La Tercera neighbor Meloni Courtway, took the lead in getting it started, and she was enthusiastically joined by a variety of helpers, including her immediate neighbors, the Mayor and many City Council members,  and community organizing veterans from all over town. COTS and Clover, among others, contributed food and shelter. At the end of the day, Meloni sent an email to the forty households who signed up, listing the next steps. It’s a process I hope will be repeated more often throughout the City, for a wide range of community support needs (public safety, family resource sharing, entertainment, improvements to parks and natural areas, stopping or reshaping irresponsible development, and so on.)

 

What happened this stormy February morning is worthy of myth-making, because it is precisely what we need to repair our broken world. It’s about neighbors getting together, supporting each other, shifting their priorities, stepping out of their comfort zones, and putting in time and energy to protect and improve their community, from the neighborhood to the whole earth. Watching the interaction among these people, the learning, the motivation, I felt I was witnessing a community immune system in action. An infection had found a weakness and was trying to take root, but the immune system was strong. It had dispatched these white blood cells to the site of the infection, and they were busy building the defense. No doubt about who would prevail.

 

[Footnote: the last I heard of Zeero, he was headed toward Sonoma Mountain.]