Forests Precede Us And Deserts

But What, Precisely, Is Hope? At A Talk I Gave Last Spring, Someone Asked Me To Define It. I Turned The Question Back On The Audience, And Here’s The Definition We All Came Up With: Hope Is A Longing For A Future Condition Over Which You Have No Agency; It Means You Are Essentially Powerless.

I Am Only So Beautiful As The Character Of My Relationships, Only So Rich As I Enrich Those Around Me, Only So Alive As I Enliven Those I Greet.

Learning Has To Come From Doing, Not Intellectualizing.

Question Four: What Book Would You Give To Every Child? Answer: I Wouldn't Give Them A Book. Books Are Part Of The Problem: This Strange Belief That A Tree Has Nothing To Say Until It Is Murdered, Its Flesh Pulped, And Then (human) People Stain This Flesh With Words. I Would Take Children Outside And Put Them Face To Face With Chipmunks, Dragonflies, Tadpoles, Hummingbirds, Stones, Rivers, Trees, Crawdads. That Said, If You're Going To Force Me To Give Them A Book, It Would Be The Wind In The Willows, Which I Hope Would Remind Them To Go Outside.

If Your Community Is Founded On An Injustice, That Injustice Cannot Be Questioned.