While I was in the middle of a vinyasa flow, a procession of white ibis, no less than 60, strolled past my window. Sweat drippin’, I walked outside. It was a magnificent sight–their silky, white wings and curled beaks moving in unison like a funeral procession. No cars in sight as they moved through an otherwise busy street.
Eventually, some went their own way, flying high or wandering into a neighbor’s yard, tiptoeing across the street, or circling each other in a kind of ritual dance–wings fluttering, sweet, breezy air between them.
Nature is always teaching us. As wars continue in Gaza and in The Congo, as we continue to debate about what books are appropriate, what stories merit a place in the American psyche, as writers and educators continue to fight for financial dignity, the processions carry on. Life and Death carry on.
I’m still amazed by the distractions that keep us dizzy and away from meaningful, long term progress. I recently read Ashtin Berry’s Instagram post where she critiques the middle school Stanley Cup trend that’s creating a culture of bullying. The Stanley Cup is the Riedel of Middle School cup culture.
Ashtin is a hospitality activist whom I deeply admire, and as I read the post, I was reminded once again that as a society, we are as far forward as we are backward. We speak freedom. We speak wings and wandering, but our actions show we are creatures of conformity, chained to mindless trends, repulsed by the wonder of critical thought, raw imagination, and intuitive connection.
This Riedel-Stanley Cup middle school drama is part of an American tradition of speaking freedom, but living free-numb. We are intrigued by the idea of choice, but in America choice is the contradiction of itself. We speak Pét-nat but live Prosecco. We talk about natural wine but still struggle with the unnatural mindset that European food, wine, and traditions of engaging food and wine are more superior than how, for example, Ghanians and Morrocans eat communally with their hands.
This isn’t new. I grew up during America’s bikinis and bibles era in The City of “Me So Horney.” Parental Advisory notices posted on CD covers and George Michael writing “Monogamy” with lipstick across an Asian woman’s leg as he mouthed “I want your sex.”
It was a time of goomie bracelets, spiked belts, fluorescent color Converse, and Madonna corsets. Pat Benatar was shouting “Love is a Battlefield,” Janet Jackson was transitioning from Penny in “Good Times” to “Miss Jackson if you're nasty,” and Prince, who was one of the greatest musical poets, was telling us what it sounds like when doves cry.
It was the time of “Thriller,” “School Daze,” and “The Last Dragon,” Bill Cosby in Jell-o pudding pop commercials. Lisa Bonet and Sade were my idols. And most men I knew posted Vanity or Paula Abdul on their bedroom walls.
Cindy Crawford and Christie Brinkley were the standards of beauty. Oral Roberts and Billy Graham were the faces of evangelical Christian morality. Porn was in the back of video stores and in isolated strip malls with no windows (churches nearby). Nancy Reagan was telling us to “Say No To Drugs” while poor, non-white folk struggled to find financial dignity in a nation that regularly featured them as criminals on the 5 and 10 o’clock news.
Frosted Flakes was marketed as food that was good for you. Chef Boyardee was a personal chef. Coke was the water of choice. And mama kept Manischewitz Concord Grape Wine in a large, straw basket on top of the fridge.
Now being gluten-free is chic, Hershey has plant-based options, and wines are available–like apples and lemons as organic and conventional.
But it’s all the same. The trend momentum that made Frosted Flakes and Fruity Pebbles and Fanta and Lunchables acceptable, and even fashionable, is part of the trend momentum that vilifies meat-eaters. People wear veganism like Coach bags, and if you don’t have one, you ain't it.
What’s happening with these middle schoolers and their Riedel-Stanley Cups is a mirror of what we are as a nation–bodies in procession, moving–numb, complacent, waiting for the next pour.
I heard about the Stanley Cup thing and at first thought it had to do with hockey. I'm really not sure what it's all about. Most people are conformists. Even in natural wine...now everyone wants to make petnat. It's like people chasing the artists; they moved to Williamsburg in the late 80s and 90s and now artists can't afford to live there. The difference is that making petnat doesn't have negative repercussions. Natural wine used to be a movement driven by farmers and wine professionals who were never on board with Parker and the conventions that ruled. Then it became cool, and then people wanted to capitalize on it. But, you can't keep people out...that's exclusionary. It’s a juggernaut but within the movement, we find our people and stay open to newcomers who share our values.