Frost On The Pumpkin

Bastard Squash Makes Good

As nights turn nippy, mornings are mysterious, cloaked in cloud as the marine layer snuggles down to the ground. The little garden plot I’ve been sharing (sort of) lies empty, with a cover crop of crimson clover and winter rye just starting to sprout. Afternoons are still warm enough to encourage the cool season vegetables ripening in another shared garden across town. Though inconvenient to have to drive to do any gardening, it’s always intriguing to observe how various plants behave in different locations.

All summer, I’ve been watching a mystery squash that appeared without being planted. We eventually decided that a squash seed must have been lurking in the compost we spread in late spring. The garden owners don’t like squash and never eat it, but the family matriarch does and though she has moved far away, her legacy squash remained. The strong stems wandered around the other crops and clambered up the garden fence, where the plump squash hung like little green lanterns. The squashes are flattened rounds, with dark green, slighted ridged skins. I had to wear gloves to cut them, as the stout stems bristled with sharp little spines. They looked a lot like the Japanese Kabocha squash, which is very sweet and flavorful, and I was eager to try this unknown offspring.

Glowing Globes

I hacked one open with some difficulty, as the rind was very hard indeed. It held a small amount of seeds in the midst of dense, yellow flesh. I roasted half the squash and skinned and diced the rest. Sadly, whether roasted or baked or steamed and mashed, the flavor was unremarkable. That result was not entirely unexpected: because squash can cross pollinate with its relatives, the results from saved seeds can be great or disappointing. Even if you aren’t growing other squash family kin, your neighbors might be, and busy bees are no respecters of fences.

Happily, the remaining squash were gradually turning bright orange. If failed as food, they made fine pumpkins and my grandkids had a lovely time carving Halloween Jack-o-lanterns with their parents (a drill made short work of the dense skin). To my delight, I was soon gifted an assortment of handsome winter squashes with excellent flavors. I’ve been playing with recipes for weeks and after much fiddling have settled on a few new favorites. All are good but the savory flan is especially good (a sweet version is pretty not bad too).

Roasted Winter Squash

1 large winter squash
1 teaspoon avocado oil

Cut your squash in half, remove the seeds and goop, and roast it, cut side down, on a lightly oiled baking sheet at 400 degrees F until it slumps and is very tender (45-60 minutes, depending on size). Chop the flesh to use in lasagna, soups, or stews or scoop it into a bowl and use a stick (immersion) bender to make a smooth puree.

Roasted Squash & Green Tomatoes

2 tablespoons avocado or olive oil
4 cups chopped, cooked squash (1-inch cubes)
4 cups firm green tomatoes, cut in wedges
4 cups cauliflower, cut into florets
1 red onion, cut in 8 wedges
1 head garlic, cloves peeled (I used Georgia Crystal)
1 teaspoon sea salt (I use homemade garlic salt)

Preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Divide oil and vegetables between two rimmed baking sheets and toss gently to coat. Sprinkle with salt and roast at 400 for 30 minutes. Turn vegetables with a spatula, return to oven and bake for 20-30 minutes more, until lightly caramelized and very tender. Serves 4-6.

A Wintery Flan

I recently enjoyed a pleasant squash flan at a very nice local restaurant and decided to recreate it at home. Try this with Buttercup or Kabocha squash or even Blue Jarrahdale; really, any winter type you have on hand will work and each will contribute its own flavor. I played around with various alternatives to come up with a non-dairy version that’s tasty and satisfying: hemp or soy milk work best in custards and baked dishes.

Some flan versions are so dressed up that you can’t even taste the squash. I prefer to use fewer ingredients and let the flavors sing more clearly, but if you want to gussy up your own version, add some crumbled blue cheese or sharp myzithra, chopped bacon
or flaked smoked salmon. To make a spicy-sweet dessert version, eliminate the onions and garlic and add some honey or maple syrup.

Savory Squash Flan With Toasted Nuts
(Dairy or Non-Dairy)

2 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon butter OR avocado oil
1 teaspoon cinnamon
3 cups cooked, pureed squash
1 teaspoon sea salt
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika OR ground pepper
5 eggs, lightly beaten
3 cups whole milk OR hemp milk
1 large yellow onion, chopped
1/2 cup chopped walnuts (or hazelnuts)
1 plump clove garlic, minced
2 green onions, very thinly sliced

With 1 teaspoon butter or oil, lightly grease a 2-quart, shallow baking dish, dust with cinnamon, set aside. In a bowl, combine squash puree, 1 tablespoon butter or oil, 1/2 teaspoon salt, coriander, ginger, and paprika or pepper and stir to blend. Beat in eggs, add milk, stir well, set aside. In a wide, shallow pan, combine remaining butter or oil, onion, and remaining salt over medium heat and cook, stirring often, until tender and lightly golden. Stir onions into squash mixture, leaving some of the oil in the pan, then spoon squash mixture into prepared baking pan and preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Add garlic and walnuts to oven-top pan, stir to coat and cook, stirring, over medium heat until nuts are crisp and garlic is golden, set aside. Bake flan at 400 for 10 minutes, then lower heat to 350 and bake until set and golden (45-50 minutes). Scatter nuts and sliced green onions over the top and serve hot or at room temperature. Serves 4-6.

 

 

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Erasing The Uncomfortable

Light In The Darkness

Sigh. Once again, I have to set aside my thoughts about winter squash (including some really lovely recipes) to address yet another national disgrace. Over the weekend, the ever-busy current regime revealed plans to redefine legal definitions of gender to make transgender identities illegal, and therefore invisible; if there are no legal definitions that include nonbinary categories, then there will be no legal protections for nonbinary people because nonbinary people won’t exist. Right?

Until recently, this issue might have seemed important yet fairly academic to me. Like most boomers, I’ve been immersed in struggles for human rights since childhood. Since my teen years, I’ve worked for equal rights for women, people of color, and the queer community, yet transgender people weren’t really on my radar one way or another. When my oldest came out as transgender a couple years ago, my world view expanded rapidly. Theoretical and rather vague concern for trans people became intense focus on learning all I could about the trans community.

Invisible And Divisible

What I discovered is that there may be no one less understood and less protected than transgender people. Even within the queer community, there are many who don’t add the T to the LGB cluster, since lesbian, gay or bisexual are all definitions of sexual preference, while transgender has to do with, hello, gender, not sexuality. Some LGB alliances formally refuse to include trans people, claiming that it’s hard enough to get acceptance for themselves and adding the even-less-acceptable trans community will tank their changes of getting public approval or keeping legislative protections.

But wait, there’s more; some lesbians (notably a subgroup called terfs, or trans exclusitory radical feminists) passionately hate trans women, claiming that they aren’t really women and sometimes arguing that it’s just one more example of men taking over. Some cis-gender women (identified as female at birth and considering themselves to be straight female adults) are also ardently transphobic and disrupt Pride events with hate slogans (if nothing worse). Most heartbreaking of all is the rampant transphobia within the trans community; if you get called a disgusting monster often enough, you come to believe that there must be some truth in it. Trans people make difficult and painful decisions about every aspect of their lives, often without the support of family or friends. On top of all that, they also have to live with the devastating effects of their own internalized transphobia. Small wonder that trans people suffer extremely high rates of depression and suicide. Nobody would ever choose to be trans. It’s not a choice, it’s a fact.

Embracing An Ever-Wider Spectrum

A recent memo from the Department of Health and Human Services reveals that they’re promoting a new legal definition of sex under Title IX, the federal law that prohibits gender-based discrimination. According to a story in the New York Times, the broader definitions and protections developed under the Obama administration would give way to a one-size-fits-all binary definition of sex; male or female, defined at birth by genitalia. “The sex listed on a person’s birth certificate, as originally issued, shall constitute definitive proof of a person’s sex unless rebutted by reliable genetic evidence.”

However, even as our conservative and regressive regime seeks to erase nonbinary people, progressive people are expanding the gender spectrum with an ever-wider variety of categories. No matter how much conservatives want to retain their rigid and narrow definition of gender, the rich, complex and decidedly nonbinary nature of humanity is emerging all around the world. Though the kids get most of the press, people of all ages are exploring what it might mean to be gender fluid, gender neutral, or asexual/ACE (hint: it’s not at all what you might suspect).

Time To Grow (Up)

Our world is changing as our world view expands to include realities about human nature that have been ignored, denied and suppressed for millennia. Though regressive, punitive actions and hateful, fearful attitudes can make life far, far worse for many people right now, they can’t stop that change. I don’t know who first came up with the saying, ‘We didn’t come this far to only come this far,’ but yes. Today, for perhaps the first time in human history, a majority of people understand that basic human rights apply to all humans. No political party has the moral right to deny those rights to anyone. No political party has the moral right to tell millions of people they don’t exist. Millions of people are standing up and saying that they will not be erased. Will you help?

Please vote.

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United We Stand

Heart To Heart

I was planning to write about winter squash but right now it feels more important to talk about making and healing community. For me, my community is the anchor that keeps me from drifting. It’s my port in the storm of crazy politics and an important source of satisfaction and contentment. One of the worst transgressions the current regime has perpetrated is the deliberate destruction of America’s communities. We are being torn apart and set at each other’s throats simply because it makes political and corporate takeover tactics easier to put in place. United we stand, divided we fall. November is coming, yes, but can we really put the brakes on?

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been feeling like my world is in freefall for the past two years. Even longer, if I’m honest; the Obama years were awesome in some respects (those coherent thoughts and complete sentences!) but many ugly policies were already in place then; Native American rights, the rights of people of color, women’s rights, queer people’s rights were all too often overlooked or denied. Too many immigrant children were separated from their parents, if not locked in cages, and some were adopted out before parents could reclaim them. Our government sanctioned the use of torture. Climate change got little attention. Gun safety regulations got little or no traction. And on and on and on…

Making The Community We Need

When our community life is threatened, it’s up to us to nurture it back to health. If our community can’t or doesn’t support us, maybe it’s time to create one that does. Few people can change a whole town or city, but any of us can weave a safety net. We may have to start small, but the sooner we start, the sooner that community can nurture us in turn. How? Well, when my oldest came out to me as transgender a few years ago, I found myself exploring a new world of ideas I’d never deeply considered and terms I’d never heard. For the most part, I was relieved to learn that instead of contemplating suicide my new daughter was feeling hopeful for the first time in decades. It was impossible not to feel that as a parent I must have missed some pretty important signals, overt or covert. It was frightening to discover that my daughter would almost certainly be faced with dangers that I had unconsciously considered side issues before. I clearly had a lot of learning to do, so I looked for a peer group; in all kinds of challenging situations, the company of people with shared experiences has been hugely helpful and comforting to me. Sadly, there wasn’t such a group nearby. Happily, I was able to invite one into being.

The immense relief of being able to speak plainly and honestly about my own worries and wonderings is huge. It’s beyond helpful to share experiences and resources with other mothers (and a few dads). True, our kids’ lives and needs and issues are all unique, yet there’s so much common ground that we can truly understand each other’s situations and decisions, even when they aren’t the ones we might make. We sometimes offer parent panels for faith groups open to learning more about transgender people. We talk a lot about what being transgender involves, and we talk a bit about our kids (with permission and respecting their privacy), but we also talk honestly about our own experiences as parents of transgender people. For some folks, that openness is a key to acceptance and understanding. Their relatives may not belong to the queer community (though a surprising number do), but as parents, they relate to a lot in our stories. Indeed, sometimes when people who fear or categorically dislike transgender people hear us, the shared filter of parenthood can change their hearts.

Longing To Belong

If we hope to resisting the deliberately polarizing influences in our culture today, we have to find common ground. Belonging is such a deep, essential human need; we all long to belong to family, to community, to our country. When differences are always presented as dangerous, it’s easy to trick fearful people into black-and-white thinking. That’s a prime goal for political and corporate interests who want us to fear and dislike people who disagree with us. We’re good, they’re bad; boom! Even in these divisive times, however, we can find tools for community building. One of the most important is using respectful language. Another is respectful listening, especially listening for ideas and beliefs we hold in common.

Since the Parkland massacre on Valentine’s Day, student activists have been changing hearts by respectfully speaking their truths. All summer, student-led March For our Lives groups toured the country, talking with advocates and opponents of gun control reforms. What I find most moving about this movement the courage and honesty of these young people, and their willingness to engage in meaningful conversations with people who disagree with them. Over and over, students meet with counter-protesters person-to-person. Each time, the students find that even angry NRA members can acknowledge that they share some common goals.

Words Of Power and Peace

Naturally, any conversation is influenced not just by our attitudes and postures but by the flavor of the words we use. This seems obvious yet the use of loaded language is so commonplace as to be almost unnoticeable. Conversations about heated issues tend to be explosive and often involve catch phrases that immediately trigger reflexive, reactive language in return. The March For Our Lives activists have learned to use clear, moderate, accurate language. They’ve also learned what many adults have forgotten; listening is as important to a conversation as speaking. That’s transforming angry counter-protests into true meetings of hearts and minds. One student, Daphne Frias, thinks these conversations are largely successful because students are seen as young and powerless. Where adult-to-adult conversations may come loaded with preconceptions and power plays, adult conversations with youth tend to be more open minded, especially when the kids listen well.

Since I’m passionate about community building, I was recently invited to help organize a dinner that partners progressive and conservative people. Dinner is prepared and enjoyed together and topics are respectfully discussed over the delicious meal. I was taken aback to find that I couldn’t immediately think of anyone to invite who I would disagree with on important topics. True, I live in a very progressive community, yet conservative people live here too. As I pondered this, I realized that of course I know people whose opinions very likely differ from mine; we just don’t talk about the disagreements. We do talk about the dozen or hundred or thousand things we both care about or have in common. Are we missing an opportunity to connect more deeply? Are we avoiding difficult conversations out of fear?

Unity In Community

I don’t know but I don’t think so. My gut/heart feeling is that not creating opportunities to disagree keeps us fully human to each other. Nobody is “othered” and we recognize how well we are connected by the community ties we both hold dear. Though we may and do disagree about some very important issues, we can meet in the great overlap of commonality. I imagine it like a giant Venn diagram, with overlapping circles that remain individual but share a lot in common. It feels more healing to focus on the overlap than to remind each other painfully of our differences.

After all, whose goal is for everyone to march in lockstep? Maintaining a healthy diversity is important in pretty much every aspect of life, from people to critters to plants to politics. As a community, our health and strength lie in our respect for each other as humans, including respect for those very important differences. Having grown up in a contentious historic period, I’ve experienced a lot of political strife and personal struggle. I’m not nostalgic for the 50’s of my childhood or the 60’s of my teen years, or really any other time; this is the time we have and it’s ours to create. Let’s summon up our inner Mr. Rogers and welcome each other to the neighborhood.

And maybe next week I’ll get around to talking about winter squash…

 

 

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Looking For Light

Hope, Anger, Courage

After yet another of the worst weeks of my life, I’m feeling battered and overwhelmed as usual yet something new is being added to the mixed-up mix. It took me a while to figure out that what’s new is a new kind of hope. I was recently reminded of a quote from Augustine of Hippo:

“Hope has two beautiful daughters; their names are Anger and Courage. Anger at the way things are, and Courage to see that they do not remain as they are.”

That is the kind of hope I can feel moving in my being right now. I may never have been quite this angry before, partly because I’ve never been as enormously, electrically aware of the way rich old mostly white guys enjoy abusing their power and privileges. Their malignant glee in harming people they scorn radiates true evil as well as short sighted stupidity. It’s becoming clear as various members of the current regime spill their revolting confessions that causing harm to innocent people and to the earth is a deliberate policy of this regime. Keeping progressives upset day after day, month after month, year after year is an effective tactic. It leaves us weary and overwhelmed, since responding to so many damaging, malicious actions dilutes our ability to act.

A New Anger

As a different kind of anger develops in me, I’m realizing that my previous angers have been immature and crippled. I hadn’t really believed that I have true agency, a real ability to affect outcomes and bring about positive change. As the Me Too movement continues to expose countless instances of sexual abuse, millions of women are coming to terms with our own experiences. Speaking truth and being heard, acknowledged, and honored begins a deep healing that can unleash our chained up power. It’s disconcerting to realize that if I wasn’t the one who put those chains in place, I’ve been the one who replaced them many, many times. As I’ve pondered my own past, I am seeing with new, clear eyes how I grew up blind to my own power. Indeed, having rarely seen power used benignly, I resented and feared all power, including my own.

I’ll be turning 67 next month, an age that has traditionally been considered well past the power point. Ironically, I’m feeling stronger, clearer, and wiser than ever before. I’m also more compassionate, even as I’m becoming angrier by the day. Perhaps it’s that balance that makes this new anger feel more potent; I no longer experience myself as a helpless victim. Uncovering seemingly endless memories is both painful and enriching. Allowing hurtful, ugly, humiliating memories to have their moment in the sun of my own loving acknowledgement and acceptance is surprisingly healing because I feel myself gaining the power I set aside so many times.

Identify The Resistance

A recent NYT Op-Ed by Michelle Alexander entitled ‘We Are Not The Resistance’ points out that members of the current regime are doing all they can to stall and stop and frustrate the revolutionary America that wants everyone to enjoy freedom, liberty and social and economic justice. Resistance movements are usually small and covert, working in stealth against unjust regimes. Today in America, an unjust regime is working in plain sight against our country and the American people, against the world and all people of conscience and goodwill. Most Americans genuinely want to participate in the America Alexander posits; “A new nation is struggling to be born, a multiracial, multiethnic, multifaith, egalitarian democracy in which every life and every voice truly matters.”

We can’t build that nation together unless we ARE together. Remember? A house divided cannot stand. A nation divided cannot stand. Part of what makes us so vulnerable to takeover is the erosion of community in small towns and cities alike. If we are ever to find reconciliation as a nation, we all have to help mend the rifts and divisions that are splintering us into ever smaller groups. Remember, that’s deliberate; tribalism is as divisive as community is unifying. Our most powerful protest may be to refuse to be polarized, choosing instead to connect and reconnect, reweaving social rents and tears with the strong cords of community.

Courage To Change

Though Courage is Anger’s sister, she is not necessarily angry herself. It’s difficult to create positive change when anger is our favorite tool, and anger is stoked by failure, not success. Most humans change most readily when they feel loved and supported. My inner Sister Courage is cheerful and helpful, friendly and positive, and implacably committed to finding constructive, inclusive ways to move forward. Yes, that’s also difficult, but Sister Courage and Sister Change are both recharged by success, not failure.

As Martin Luther King assured us, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” Sister Courage refuses to take the slippery slide into darkness and despair. Today I’m holding her hand and walking out of my own shadows into the light of truthful day. It’s painful but it’s worth it; wounds that fester in darkness can heal when exposed to light and air.

Persisterhood Prevails

All over the world, women who have experienced abuse make up a majority of every population (and always have). Right now, it’s tempting to feel that speaking out isn’t an effective tool for making change, since our anguished cries are falling on deliberately deaf ears. That’s not new, but in fact, what’s happening IS new; as women speak out, our sisterhood is uniting us. As we all speak out, decent, compassionate, kind men are uniting as well. When we join in universal community, our deepest desire is not for revenge but for reconciliation that leads us all out of the cesspool of patriarchy into a better future. Not perfect. But better.

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