Editorial 11.5, May 2009, by Deirdre Helfferich Just Twiddling My Thumbs Life is just too damn short. Here I am, almost forty-eight, and I’ve got my fingers in so many pies I can’t turn around. And the big problem is, they’re all fun! I suppose that’s not really a problem. But let me clarify: I am involved in a ton of worthwhile (to me) projects, and it’s mind-boggling to me that there are people out there who can actually claim to be bored, or who have so little to do that they spend every evening watching television. Depression, illness, those things I understand. I’ve been there, and will probably be there again. Some days you just don’t want to get out of bed. But the rest of the time? Hoo! Take my bill-paying job, for instance. It’s a part-time job, and mostly, I do what I do at the Republic: write, edit, lay out documents, do a little graphic design, blog. In the course of all that, I get to learn about interesting things like muskox husbandry, liquefaction of woody biomass, startup businesses in fields like wild herbal teas and medicinal plants, commercial peony marketing, boreal forest dieoff, and other things that the scientists and students up on campus are studying. Every once in a while, I get a task at work that really excites me—and that relates directly to my interests in my private life. For example: I recently helped organize two roundtables for community shared agriculture operations in the state of Alaska. (My husband and I are members of one local CSA, Calypso Farm & Ecology Center.) In the course of doing that, I researched CSAs in Alaska, expecting to find, oh, five or six. It turns out that there are seventeen of them, most of them in the Tanana Valley, but also in places like Bethel, Homer, Palmer, and Skagway. I learned how to make a Google map—it turns out it’s not very difficult—depicting the location of these farms. The discussions involved with these farmers have given me strong hope that Alaska really could feed itself. Related to that is the Ester Village Farmers’ and Craft Market, one of several farmers’ markets in Alaska, and like CSAs and other efforts focused on local communities, they’re popping up all over. There’s a new Alaska Farmers’ Market Association that lists twenty-six markets on their website (www.alaskafarmersmarkets.org). The Ester market will be starting up on June 4, and I’m going to be involved in that, too. In my middle age, I’ve become a librarian, although not of the ruler-wielding kind, and again, the library’s a great project. I think it’s one of the most important things I’m working on. I’m learning about library design and management, lots of things about fundraising and organizing volunteers (I even read a very helpful book on the subject), and I’ve even been—hesitantly—looking at books on proper cataloging and the Dewey Decimal System. I am actually tiptoeing into the realms of library science. I’ve taken to collecting photos of cool-looking libraries. As an example of just how far into library fandom I’ve plunged, I got myself (and the library, and my father, and my sister) a copy of I, Librarian, a graphic novel on the adventures of crime-fighting librarian Rex Libris (the term “crime” is a bit misleading—he’s battling demons and gods and aliens and people who don’t return their books on time). It’s coming to theatres (due in 2012), and believe you me I will be there when it’s released—with popcorn! And of course, there’s the Republic itself. A community newspaper! With pretensions of literary journal, with a splash or two of satire, muckraking, and oddball sports. I’m writing this at 1 am, the last thing that needs to be done before sending it to the printer. (See, I’m still a procrastinator!) Most of the time, it’s fun, and creative, and I have a good time working with the contributors and being one myself. Sometimes, though, it’s hard. I heard some bad news the other evening, and found myself immediately thinking like an editor, or a journalist maybe, wanting to get the facts of the matter right, thinking about what would be appropriate to publish, about who I should talk to next, etc. I hated it. I didn’t want to be thinking of if or how to best provide this information to others. I just wanted to hear it, and experience my reaction to it, and commiserate with my friends. Just like anybody else. Yet, there’s a duty that comes with running a community paper, or volunteering for the local library, or being a member of a CSA, or being a vendor in a village market. It’s really the same duty we all have to any community we are part of: we are called on to participate—to be an active participant in our own lives. Despite the sometimes inconvenient or even painful nature of the responsibilities I’ve taken on, there’s a big advantage in them: if there’s one thing I’m not, it’s bored. | ||
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