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The Good Life: Creativity, Simplicity and CommunityA sermon given to the congregationat Eliot Unitarian Chapel in Kirkwood, MO By Lori Allen During the service on July 11, 2004 I would like to share a story with you. Just a year ago about this time I was sitting in Starbucks, just up the street, as I often did during graduate school, reading a scholarly article for my class in New South History. This particular article looked specifically at the social changes that occurred in the early twentieth century in southern cotton mill towns. The main thread of the story dealt with how the mill workers adapted from their rural, land-based culture and lifestyle to the new urban industrial culture and lifestyle from 1890-1940. It was quite fascinating. It was a story of whole families leaving the farm seeking employment in the new cities and towns. Men, women and children as young as six years old worked the mills 14 hours per day six days per week. Gradually villages of these former farmers developed around the mills. "Company towns" they were called, with housing and the general store owned by the company that owned the mill. Life was hard adjusting to work on a machine's schedule, but since these new industrial workers came from the same background, they quickly formed a close-knit community. Values based on subsistence, sharing and simplicity carried over from the farm to these new communities. Like life based on the land, village life remained based on kinship ties which also controlled migration. Households remained linked by obligation, responsibility and concern. Villagers helped one another, not for immediate return, but with the understanding that community support would help meet their individual needs in the future. Despite the attempts by the company to control every aspect of their worker's lives, mill villagers were able to create the life they desired: simple and community-based. It seems that unlike the emerging urban middle class of the period, these farm people had no desire to acquire goods. And therein was the problem for the mill owners. By the 1920s, there was a labor shortage. Several tactics were tried including stealing each other's workers by offering higher wages as well as in-house wage increases to spur production. The laborers reaped the benefits of increased wages: they could work only four days and earn what they had been earning in six. Given their simple, community-based, subsistence lifestyle, they chose to work the four days and spend the remaining three with family and friends. This was not the response the urban, middle-class acquisition-oriented mill owners had anticipated. But the mill owners were not to be thwarted. In the spirit of social uplift prevalent at the time, the mill owners instituted social welfare programs for the company towns and their residents. Sidewalks were paved; streetlights installed and social workers were hired. New items were offered in the company store priced within reach of the workers, provided they worked 5 or 6 days per week instead of four. Social workers offered cooking and home-tending classes to teen girls, skills once learned from older women in the family and community. Company-sponsored programs replaced informal childcare networks developed by the community women. Doctors replaced midwives and the members of the community who practiced home remedies. Women were taught how to keep a "proper" house which included upholstered furnishings, how to cook gourmet meals and sew the latest fashions from Paris. But these programs were not as altruistic as they might appear. In fact, these programs served double duty. First they obliterated communal ties by replacing informal networks of obligation, concern and responsibility with corporate-controlled services and standards. Secondly, they stimulated desires for consumer goods so that mill workers would work increased hours to earn sufficient pay to purchase those goods. I can't say how well I was beginning to get the picture when I got to the bottom of the page and read this quote in which one mill owner of the day explained the rational behind the plan, "Their needs must be increased to equal the rise in wages to get them to work steadily. The people are not sufficiently ambitious enough to care to work all the time, but as we are throwing about them elevating influences their needs are growing greater and the next generation will be all right." I had to pause and read that quote several times. Let me paraphrase it for you: Don't worry about this generation; we'll get the next. We can simultaneously rob them of their community ties and then convince them they will be better people and have a better life if they just buy the right stuff and live according to the standards of "experts" whom we have invented. It hit me like a fully loaded semi tractor-trailer rig doing 85 without lights in the dark. I thought of my grandparents who were the generation who would be all right. I thought of my parents, the generation after that. I thought about their need "to give me something better that what they had", that something better being material goods. And, suddenly it all became crystal clear. I understood about the loss of community I read about in the papers so much. I knew why people felt their lives were beyond their control. I knew why there was a certain sense of hopelessness that pervades our society. I knew how we'd been had. I thought of the jokes about "retail therapy". Our whole self worth is wrapped up in material goods. Everything is a product we can buy if we just work that extra day: happiness, self-worth, and community. A friend once called it "delusions of grandeur". By focusing on the product rather than the process of living, we have lost touch with both our humanity and with the divine. We have also lost touch with each other; we have little real community. We think if all wear the same brand of clothes or can talk about the same TV sitcom, we have community. But it is all illusion. And then I did something radical. I stopped shopping. In fact, I stopped wanting. It was like getting sick after eating and not being able to even think of that item again without getting squeamish. Every time I had to buy something, it became a question of how many hours must my husband or I work? How many hours away from family and friends or spent in an activity that failed to build community? Who really benefited from that purchase? How did that purchase affect others - even people I didn't know or would never meet? Buying truly became a spiritual experience. I began to question how consumption was preventing me from creating the life I wanted. How was it robbing me of my creativity and humanity? I also got mad and more than a little. No one likes being "had" and that is exactly how I felt. It wasn't pleasant and I wanted to know how I, reasonably intelligent, decently spiritual person that I am, get sold such a load of goods, literally. I began with the book The Artist's Way and began reclaiming the creativity and sense of identity I had lost. I began to find my true self, not the one sold to me daily by corporate America. Cameron teaches that creativity is our divine right. Further creativity is a process and the natural order of life. Creativity is what links us all together as spiritual beings. It is what feeds the universe, the life force, God or whatever you call it. When we repress our creativity, we repress our humanity. But creativity only flourishes when we have a sense of safety and self worth. We need true community in order to create the life we want. I was back to community again. So what was it about consumption that destroys community? It was clear, at least to me, that community, creativity and simplicity were the keys and further, were inextricably linked. Shortly after, I joined a simplicity circle and it was in the readings for that group that I discovered why we consume and how it affects society. There were seven clearly identifiable reasons or causes and their effects that exactly explained the phenomena I could now see so clearly via historical study. Seven. The same number as our UU principles. Seven. So why do we consume? What does it do to society to be consumer oriented? How is community linked to consumption? And creativity? And how, as UU's can we respond? Lets look at the seven reasons, their affects, and the corresponding UU principle.
The end of the story that began that fateful morning in Starbuck's a year ago is that I am no longer fooled by the slick ads and the social constructions. I see the mill owner's social welfare program for what it is. I am practicing a life of voluntary simplicity. Charan Sing defines simplicity thus: "Simplicity doesn't mean to live in misery and poverty. You have what you need, and you don't want what you don't need." Voluntary simplicity means living a life that is "outwardly simple and inwardly rich". It is about giving up the obsession with consumption and with image, living authentically, and resisting external pressures. It is to reclaim my creativity, my freedom, my democracy, my purpose, my identity and my community. I hope you will join me. |
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