[Carter]: 不，不是弹性，是吗？
[SPEAKER_02]: 气候参与助理。
[Carter]: 客户参与助理，是的，美丽。 香农（Shannon）与上游迷雾社区中的社区成员和组织保持联系，以确保气候弹性解决方案反映出他们的利益和需求。 她致力于建立围绕雨水洪水的影响以及由于气候变化而面临的其他问题。 在加入Mira之前，她通过AmeriCorps完成了由Everett社区种植者主持的公共卫生服务任期。 在此期间，她对社区参与和粮食正义充满热情。 香农（Shannon）毕业于康涅狄格大学（University of Connecticut），Go Huskies，拥有环境研究和人权艺术学士学位。 在她的空闲时间，这很有趣，她喜欢散步，钩编， 剪发。 我试图弄清楚那个。 好的。 并尝试新食物。 请允许我向计划介绍一个新朋友Myra Shannon Collins。 好吧。 好吧。 因此，我在举办这些夜晚的习惯也是如此，那些去过其中许多人的人当然知道这一点，尤其是当我们观察到国家诗歌月时，我想分享一些经文来帮助塑造当晚。 我处于正义阶段，原因很多。 好的，嗯，而且由于我们要谈论成为一条新英格兰河的基础，而且由于我的思想总是在公平，嗯，嗯，嗯，所以让我们听听神秘河的忧郁。 新鲜的波西米亚风格男孩制作了房地产视频，以赞扬西梅德福的美好美德和神秘河沿岸的生活。 也许他们是新的钱孩子或不知道村庄悠久历史的艰难毕业生。 他们确实有一种感觉，这是前城市居民的次要麦加，与IPO现金，NFT意外收获或比特币早期收养一样。 一个新的绅士，希望为他们的狗，山脉流浪者，品酒佳肴以及下一代信托基金婴儿而降落。 潜在的财产王子有目标市场。 YouTube的吸引力是光滑而闪亮的。 经典的美国人，带有寿司的一面或venti摩卡拿铁。 他们不知道过去是什么。 他们知道下一波想要看到什么。 他们想看到骑自行车，徒步旅行和孩子们。 他们想发布会得到很多喜欢的照片。 他们想看到开花的树木，鸟类和蜜蜂。 他们的高层避风港没有这些。 他们想看看他们是否可以在绿色的绿色之外的后院花园中种植绿色的东西，这些绿色在膨胀的银行帐户中生长。 设计师工作服和Doc Martens并不是农民的制造。 不用担心，Whole Foods已获得100％有机食品，并提供了精心策划的草药和香料。 我知道这听起来像是怨恨。 辞职经常。 但是，当私人船俱乐部预订公共海滩和基础不希望大声的，不守规矩的多米尼加人降落在他们的山坡上进行海滨停车场时，好吧，维尔的兄弟是什么？ 我爸爸教我如何在这里钓鱼。 那时，水中不只是鳗鱼和翻车鱼，但我们觉得这是遗产。 我们很高兴拥有它。 他们也真的不想让我们在海滩上。 但是我们在少数派中很重要。 伙计们，我们不想打架。 但是湖不是原始的，所以为什么对任何人表示敬意呢？ 我们可以步行半英里，或者骑着我们的黄貂鱼自行车沿着连接到小波浪和轻柔唤醒的内场。 我们想知道皮划艇和独木舟桨手。 五颜六色的人民，偶尔的学者和无处不在的摩托船。 我们可以梦想一个梦想，梦想着拥有橡皮艇和拖网发动机，并挥舞着自己的几波。 不要误会我的意思。 我喜欢新的鱼梯子和勇敢的鲱鱼柜台，鳟鱼输液和秃头的鹰，以及对环境可持续性的关注。 事实是，他们也喜欢它，他们有能力为此付费。 1.4万人多萝西伊丽莎白·塔克（Elizabeth Tucker）的旧宅基地。 它应该是历史地标。 相反，这是即将到来的景点的另一个预览。 同时，昏昏欲睡的小努比亚小村庄（Nubian Hamlet）将其黑色和棕色的古铜色释放到了不可阻碍的不动产价值的拖船上，并死于老警卫队。 我的是最后三条街道的最后一代，即阿灵顿，林肯和杰罗姆。 这知道小商店，旧的Shiloh浸信会和消防局的图书馆。 我的是了解查理·布克（Charlie Booker）和布鲁因（Bruins）的最后一代，五个战斗菲利普斯兄弟（Phillips Brothers），好友叔叔的邮政命令，Doc Count的蓝皮书，Faucina和Evelyn的Beauty Salon，以及为什么它被称为Duggar Park。 如此多的第一，如此之多的历史，很少的时间来品尝和节省，保存和传递。 如此之多的离开，黑色和棕色和棕褐色的到来很少。 同时，开发人员大多有自己的方式。 西班牙的日间工人将其拆除，将其备份。 像Lee Majors和600万美元的男人一样，他们也有技术。 他们可以使它们比以前更好。 更好，更强壮，更快。 公寓和联排别墅，托尼（Tony and Thristy）与新旧人一起出现，并带有新的。 洗涤，冲洗并重复。 同时，新鲜的Boho男孩制作了房地产视频，赞扬了西梅德福的美好美德和神秘河沿岸的生活。 好的。 好的。 非常好。 非常好。 因此，现在让我们看看Myra，看看有什么新的和令人兴奋的事情。 是时候与我们的朋友香农·柯林斯（Shannon Collins）友好地聊天了。 所以香农，您会谈论您的教育背景，以及什么吸引您进入环境研究和人权的主要人物？
[SPEAKER_02]: 绝对地。 因此，我在UConn学习了环境研究，我开始做环境科学，因为我真的很喜欢在外面，然后参加了我的第一堂课，并意识到我无法进行数学，就像显微镜类型的科学一样。 但是我仍然真的很喜欢环境，而且我知道我爱人们，所以我当时想找到一份可以整天与人合作的工作，但这是为了改善环境和解决气候变化，我认为这可能是我们这一代人的问题。 放学后，我立即在埃弗里特社区种植者社区农场组织的埃弗里特（Everett）工作，这就像是与人和当地社区合作并完成一些非常重要的事情的完美结合，就像对地球和社区而言，这是我最喜欢的事情，所以在神秘河水中，我必须做一个非常相似的工作，所以我喜欢它。
[Carter]: 极好的。 现在您最初是从这里开始的吗？
[SPEAKER_02]: 因此，我在梅尔罗斯（Melrose）长大，父亲在阿灵顿（Arlington）长大，我父母的第一间公寓实际上在高街上。
[Carter]: 好吧，所以你有点本地。 非常本地。 好吧，很好，很好。 对于可能不熟悉Mira的人们，您能谈谈组织的任务和工作吗？
[SPEAKER_02]: 是的，因此，对于那些不认识的人来说，分水岭是思考神秘河的联系的大型区域方式。 因此，从波士顿到伯灵顿和雷丁，这是21个社区，全部介于两者之间，所有这些都流入了神秘河。 这就是我们工作的领域。 而且由于水不在乎城镇，我们在所有这些城镇和社区中工作。 迈拉（Myra）致力于保持河流健康，社区健康，并开始是一个水质组织，然后越来越多地研究了如今我们在谈论的公园和道路，看着气候，看河鲱鱼。 是的，我们做了很多很酷的事情。
[Carter]: 好吧，很好，很好。 因此，我在迈拉（Myra）的经历向我展示了您是一个志愿者驱动的组织。 社区成员可以参与哪种方式？
[SPEAKER_02]: 是的，所以这是诗歌月，也是地球月，这是一个非常酷的组合。 因此，随着它的变暖，有很多方法可以进入流域，并与我们和其他很棒的团体一起做一些志愿服务。 因此，我们确实有很多事件。 我写了一些，因为这是一个非常激动人心的时刻。 我们有很多植树，在地球月真的很有趣。 我们也做垃圾拾音器。 因此，请戴上手套，然后在您喜欢的公园里拿起一些垃圾。 我们正在Mystic Dam上刷新壁画。 因此，我们也做很多艺术项目，例如教育计划，这很酷。 您可以提供任何帮助。 我们进行入侵物种去除。 因此，像本地植物一样令人窒息的植物，我们将其撕掉。 我们带着一堆剪裁和手套的人带出来。 我们进行水质监测，以便您可以自愿进行，您可以了解我们如何测量水质并在水中降落并查看那里的样品。 我们数数河鲱鱼并跟踪他们的迁移。 是的，今年夏天我们将举行非常酷的活动。 因此，如果您订阅我们的新闻通讯，您可以每月听到一些事情并参与其中。
[Carter]: 是的，我喜欢这样一个事实，您几乎没有做任何事情，您不会寻求听到您正在谈论的任何内容，无论您在计划和谈论的内容所影响的社区的声音。 因此，我知道现在对组织的大事，就我们知道的计划项目和制定新策略是我们自己的神秘海岸线计划。 那么，您想对我们有所了解吗？
[SPEAKER_02]: 绝对，因此，神秘的海岸线计划是我们绿道计划的一部分，因此也谈论河流或公园的道路。 在这个项目中，它已经进行了几年，我们谈论的是神秘的湖泊，东海岸线和神秘山谷公园大道，经过高街上的扶轮回，一直到我们美丽的西梅德福海岸线到波士顿大街。 这就是我们的项目区域。 通过这个项目，我们还研究了道路安全。 去年更多。 今年，我们在海岸线本身的西梅德福（West Medford）大块上花了很多时间。 因此，这是一个非常酷的过程。 我可以进一步深入研究项目的细节。
[Carter]: 是的，绝对。 但是我想先发出免责声明。 实际上，我很高兴在指导委员会的启蒙运动中为这项海岸线倡议的一半，现在在另一半的指导委员会任职，这是 西梅德福发生了什么事？ 所以我只想让你知道我是一个忠实的粉丝。 我非常喜欢正在讨论的事情，所以把它带走。
[SPEAKER_02]: 是的。 是的，就像您说的那样，这都是社区驱动的。 因此，我们很高兴聊天，因此基本上，我们知道这是一个令人惊叹的文化丰富地区，环境不可思议 对于许多人来说，历史上具有重要意义，我们也从社区和州的许多人那里听到了，那里有一些挑战。 因此，我们正在研究可访问性，以便人们能够满足所有人的需求，并且正在研究生态的改进，因此，在侵蚀道路或雨水在河流和河流中影响的方式时 我们也在研究娱乐。 那么我们需要更多的长凳吗？ 这样的东西。 这就是我们现在的项目，这真的很棒。 就像您说的那样，我们有一个指导委员会，这是令人难以置信的，这是附近14人。 他们都有与邻里和河流有关的令人惊叹的背景和故事。 我们在一起，我们谈论，我们想在这里看到什么？ 我们还借助地图深入研究，并真正进入了细节。 我们还将其带到了整个社区。 如果有人在街上看到他们，我一直在抬起传单。
[Carter]: 我今天确实看到了。
[SPEAKER_02]: 好，很好。 昨晚，我们举行了第二次会议，在Zoom上公开。 因此，我们将其带给每个人，我们说，这是我们的计划，你们怎么看？ 我们让人们将意见放在Zoom中，如果您无法放大，则可以在调查之后填写调查。 因此，我们正在努力获得尽可能多的评论，并且我们已经对这个想法的观点发表了数千条评论，所以很棒。
[Carter]: 是的，它可能需要很长时间才能发生，但是在每种情况下，从高街到神秘的湖泊，略微超出了此案，以及从高街的这一侧到波士顿大街的案件， 这两种发展都将大大改变并增强人们使用资源的方式。 我真的相信这是真的。 因此，这是非常非凡的东西，但这也是非常非常雄心勃勃的，尤其是鉴于，您知道我们现在在社会上。 因此，您谈到存在一些挑战。 您能谈谈其中一些挑战吗？
[SPEAKER_02]: 是的，因此，我们沿着人们带给我们的道路所看到的目前的挑战是很多，关于这是有很多根源的泥土路径，而对于轮椅来说，对于婴儿车来说，这是无法访问的。 如此，我们该怎么做才能使这条实际的道路更加连接和访问每个人？ 这是我们的巨大目标之一。 我们还经常研究交通安全，今年冬天旋转的悲惨经历绝对使这在这方面的重要性，因此我们对仅仅制作速度等人行横道的评论有很多评论，但是无论我们能做什么，这也是一件很大的事情。 我们正在看 然后侵蚀，因此看着实际的海岸线环境，我们是否有侵入性的植物，我们是否有沿河的建造良好的地方，所以它对河流或土地不利，所以，是的，很多很大的机会。
[Carter]: 是的，我的意思是，就指导委员会而言，我们的讨论中出现了很多事情，显然是停车的问题，然后在那里， 您知道，您知道的噪音有点噪音，并且知道，您知道的，有一些问题，您知道，您知道，在夏季正在进行的某些事情，您知道。 这是您不能让每个人都开心的人之一，但是您试图找到可以为每个人提供一些改进的解决方案，并希望有些人，并希望每个人都可以。 所以我想另一件事是现在正在实施昂贵的基础设施改进，而无需完全控制资金流 以及所需的州和联邦支持，这使我们在预测这些事情可能发生的时间方面具有真正的约束力。
[SPEAKER_02]: 绝对，这是最难的问题，因为在这项工作中，您确实必须意识到要花费数年才能获得计划，然后才能获得批准的计划，然后才能构建东西。 花了这么长时间，但是我组织的角色几乎只是领导这些角色 社区过程，会议和调查，我们只是在收集所有信息，因此最终我们不知道任何事情都无法承诺，您从来没有真正知道，但是重要的是，重要的是，我们可以将所有信息放在一起，以便我们可以将其删除并希望通过它来看
[Carter]: 我的意思是，我们在社区中心真正了解了这第一手，因为我们一直在努力激发与梅德福市和DCR合作的权力，以便在这里进行一些改进，以便我们有两件事。 一条路过DCR土地到街道的一条路，因此人们从这一侧进入中心的人不必穿过糊状，泥和雪，因此我们至少可以有一条可动的道路。 然后，另一件事是在神秘河路上的安全问题和停车问题。 我们终于有了所有的坚果和螺栓，就可以实现这一目标。 幸运的是， 实际上，这超出了我们希望的东西，并将基本上从哈佛大学一直到费尔菲尔德街的计划变成了计划。 因此，这将在人们如何体验您在路径项目的神秘河边谈论的地理位置上如何体验这一部分地理位置的整体改进。 因此，更具体地说，您的公众参与过程是什么样的。
[SPEAKER_02]: 是的，所以这是一个非常非常令人难以置信的过程，而且我对此非常有趣，因为我的工作基本上已经挂在传单上，而且我发现了美好而美好的日子。 我上下走动，我走过社区，我们要做的就是指导委员会组成一个，令人难以置信的人们，带有如此惊人的故事以及如此出色的对话。 好吧，您知道有一些关于我们对您所知道的自然感觉的评论，有时候人们真的很喜欢越远的远足感觉，这很重要，所以我们如何尊重这一点，以及我们如何添加可访问性，这是一次很棒的对话，我们非常感谢让像您这样的社区领导者在我们的指导委员会中。
[Carter]: 直到我们开始谈论某些情况下的自然路径比真正设计的任何事物都更可取的自然路径之前，我从未听说过漫步。 但也可以反对，您之前提到过 有时可能会影响有残疾的人可以使用那条漂亮的自然路径的所有根源，尤其是需要轮椅或拐杖，拐杖，等等。 等等。 是的，这很有趣。 这很棒。
[SPEAKER_02]: 人们对像我有一次将皮划艇放到这里的故事，或者有一次我在温彻斯特，我看到了这个新的长凳。 我们可以得到这样的东西吗？ 就像听到人们的特定意见一样，真是太神奇了。 这对我来说也很有趣，因为我可以听那些对话，然后我们将其打开Zoom，我们邀请所有邻居来与我们聊天，并在那里收到更多评论。 然后，我们回到办公室，阅读所有这些内容并将它们整理出来，我们说，好吧，我们收到了100条有关道路的评论，我们收到了60条有关长凳，标志的评论，这真的很令人兴奋。 如果您有兴趣，我有一些细节。 因此，我们将其分为三类，因此可访问性，例如路径等环境，因此海岸线，环境健康和娱乐活动。 因此，我们收到了162条评论，谈论安全的道路过境点，这并不令人惊讶，所以这是一个巨大的可访问性。 还有很多关于进入海岸线，教育解释标牌的评论，这真的很有趣， 好的，那是我的照明，也许有一些寻路的标牌，所以喜欢向人们展示他们在某些更像历史的东西，所以我们收到的一些特定评论真的很酷，我们收到的一些特定的评论对桥梁和旋转rot，只是连接小径，是的，是的，就像我有一辆杂货店一样。 我有轮椅。 这对我来说是不可能的，这对我们来说是无价的，并带回了项目团队。 绝对地 然后，当我们查看环境时，我们收到了70种对美丽树木的评论，确保我们要保护沿着路径的树木，也许还有更多树木或更好地维护新树木。 我们对一些本地种植有很多评论。 因此，剥夺了那些拥挤和像传粉媒介草地的入侵物种，或者像在那里维持和自然的植物一样。 因此，有很多评论。 我们收到了很多垃圾插座评论。 那是一个巨大的东西，是的，真的很酷。 我喜欢这样的想法，例如在娱乐中加入公共艺术纪念馆，然后为了娱乐，我们有很多关于拥有更多忽视的评论 改进的非运动划船访问是很大的。 因此，在我们的会议中，这是一个问题，您如何让人们放下皮划艇，但这不是摩托艇。 那太多了。 是的，关于开放草坪区域的一些很酷的评论。 因此，就像人们分享的人一样，他们带狗，对此有多重要。 野餐桌，都非常酷，非常酷的东西。 是的，我们仍然愿意发表评论。 这是一个持续的过程。
[Carter]: 绝对，绝对。 因此，就这样的人而言，也许人们可以了解一些被嘲笑的事情，尤其是在从高街到几乎到温彻斯特的计划中，或者实际上是到温彻斯特的， 您知道，哪些事情是在实施方面被范围划定的？
[SPEAKER_02]: 是的，再次，我在这里有笔记，因为有很多很棒的东西。 因此，我们再次将其分解为安全性，可访问性，环境，我们有很多建议的更安全的过境点，这是巨大的，我们的设计团队制作了非常酷的地图，它们可以显示所有这些，您可以在我们的网站上找到它，最终我会插入。 但是，更安全的过境点是一个巨大的道路，因此他们绘制了许多区域，他们认为在路上进行安全性改进会很好，我们也有了改进的路径，而不是铺路的路，但是像石头尘埃一样，对轮椅使用者或其他东西来说是更好的，也许是为什么他们会更扩大路径，使之更加宽敞，并且可以更加像距离，并且更加正常地连接了一点点延伸，并且会更加正常地连接。 然后是寻路的标志，我认为这很棒，我认为这是巨大的，是的，也许是一个风景秀丽的概述，所以像选择性清除灌木丛一样有意去享用，以便享受一些有意的地方 信息我们拥有的是，野餐桌自然剧，我认为这很可爱，就像一套天然的木材，供孩子们跳上那些非机动船舶发射之类的东西。 因此，只是正式化人们已经放在皮划艇的地方可能会使一些陡峭的部分更多，您知道 从波士顿大街（Boston Ave）到达的常规步骤，直到没有步骤的路径，就像那种怪异的街区一样，您觉得自己像在某人的后院正式化了那个入口，所以有很多很酷的东西，完全可以在我们的网站上浏览并查看图片并查看图片，因为这是一种绝对可以放置输入的好方法。
[Carter]: 是的，很棒，我 好的，再次，如果人们想参与其中，无论是观众还是家里的人们，那对他们来说最好是最好的？
[SPEAKER_02]: 是的，因此，在这个过程中，我们开始去年，并让我们的顾问和景观建筑师对该地区进行了调查。 因此，他们看着一切，拍照，检查了侵蚀，道路，一切。 然后我们进入了远见过程，我说我们有成千上万的评论，这只是您喜欢什么？ 你不喜欢什么？ 您认为我们应该做什么？ 您认为我们不应该触摸什么？ 因此，这个过程真的很大。 这很酷，这是我们第一次参加我们的第一次公开会议和指导委员会会议的会议 通常，人们对这一领域有什么看法？ 然后昨晚，我们举行了一次会议，在那里我们进行了这些最初的设计。 因此，这些是我们的团队整理的地图，它表明，这是我们在这里提议新的长凳的地方，这是我们在这里提议新的人行横道（类似的东西）的地方。 我们在昨晚的指导委员会会议上以及公开会议上向人们提出了这一点。 而且，如果人们支持一个想法，不支持一个想法，有不同的想法，也可以选择输入。 因此，我们的下一步正在浏览所有这些评论。
[Carter]: 是的。
[SPEAKER_02]: 是的，很多调查了很多民意调查，但是很有趣，因为我喜欢阅读所有评论，因为它就像我在计算机上一样，但是我觉得他们告诉我他们沿着这条路行走的信息，但我就像昨晚的会议之后，我们现在有一个调查，可以打开所有这些图片，并随时随地走动您的短线，并展示每个桌子的想法，您可以看待每个奇数，您可以看着每个奇异的想法，所以您可以看待所有奇数 我认为这个，这个。 我不喜欢这个，这个。 您可以将其放在调查中。 因此，这是我们的下一个阶段，这真的很棒，而且每个人都参与其中真的很重要。 然后，我们将举行第三组会议。 因此，我们已经从最初的计划中获得了您的反馈。 我们根据人们的输入进行了一些更改。 这就是我们要完成的内容，并希望能够进行建设。 这是一个非常酷的过程，但是六月将是我们的最后一系列会议，您应该访问我们的网站并了解所有有关此信息，然后我们可以注册您的电子邮件以获取有关此信息的信息。
[Carter]: 绝对，绝对。 这确实是一个很好的机会，可以让您的声音听到所有正在讨论的内容。
[SPEAKER_02]: 是的，我不会忘记，下周我们实际上也有一个面对面的选择，因此，如果在线调查或会议不是最好的，我们将在4月24日（星期四），我们将在迪格加公园（Duggar Park），或者如果下雨，我们将在这里，3.30至5.30，我们将在所有这些东西上贴上所有这些东西，因此您可以对我们的所有内容进行交谈，您只能对我们进行交谈。 然后是4月25日（星期五），因此从今天开始的一周，我们将在温彻斯特的香农海滩（Shannon Beach）和同样的事情。 如果那是下雨天，我们将在4至515年在温彻斯特公共图书馆。 因此，写下来或访问我们的网站。
[Carter]: 很好，很好。 因此，这是64,000美元的问题。 现在可能更多了，但是从健康的对话，关于多样性，公平和包容性的健康对话中，当前的种族估算状况和撤退是什么意思，这意味着我们社区中环境正义的支持是什么？
[SPEAKER_02]: 这是一个巨大的问题，但是很高兴您问，因为我认为现在所有人都在考虑这一点对我们很重要。 我的观点基本上是我们必须保持卡车运转并尽我们所能，只是像这样，如果我们让绝望陷入困境，那么您就像，哦，我不会去参加这次会议。 我不会去 去海岸线，因为我就像会有什么区别，所以你知道，这种态度就像我一样。 这不是我们的经历。 不，所以我认为这是一个很好的例子，例如我在当地河的后院可以做什么 这对我来说具有一定的重要性和意义，我无法控制这个国家，我无法控制某些人的决定，但是我可以控制自己在这样的过程中的投入，我认为参与很重要，因为它有助于激发您的灵感并与您与您建立联系，这就是我们现在所有人都需要的东西
[Carter]: 绝对同意。 我认为，在任何曾经曾经算过鲱鱼或帮助处理日本旋律和所有这些不同侵入性植物的人，我认为这就是他们采取的态度。 他们决定他们不会让 您知道，当天的事务以及Newsreel的不断叮当声使他们无法做任何自己能做的事情。 作为一个组织，您给他们有机会做这些事情确实是一种滋补精神的补品，因为在很多情况下，如果没有实体，您可以正式地依靠自己，说，好吧，我和这些家伙在一起， 我们正在做X，Y和Z，我们正在做出改变。 我认为迈拉（Myra）表现出色是一件事，这是给每个人都可以来的基地，说，好吧，我们可以出去，我们可以这样做，因为迈拉会在这里。 我们可以出去，我们可以这样做，因为迈拉会在那儿。
[SPEAKER_02]: 当然，我也会说，与中心和像你这样的人们都合作，这就是激发我们并保持我们前进的原因，就是与其他当地团体建立伙伴关系，并思考他们所说的像在当地的全球行为。
[Carter]: 在当地行动。 那就是我们要做的。 你知道蒂维尔·奥尼尔说得最好。 他说，所有政治在一天结束时都是本地的，所有政治都是本地的，所以 即使是从政治角度看它，我们也必须尽我们所能。 哦，说到这一点，我知道您现在正在从现在潜入的平台之一就是洪水弹性。 你会谈谈吗？
[SPEAKER_02]: 绝对是的，谢谢。 因此，我的工作是帮助许多这些项目提供社区的投入和内容，以及我一直在努力的角色，正在寻找神秘的雨水洪水。 因此，这是一个非常早的阶段项目，我们将与中心和其他十个不同社区的其他人合作 基本上，我们今年夏天的目标是与此过程类似，伸出援手找到一群人，举办大型社区聚会或其他事物，并让人们谈论他们在洪水中的经历。 就像我之前说过的那样，显然这是一个漫长的过程。 当涉及以不同的方式构建内容时，您必须对此对此有所耐心。 但是关于我的工作的一些事情是我们正处于信息收集阶段。 因此，今年夏天，我将去等不同的地方和不同社区周围，并与人们谈论他们在哪里看到洪水，我认为这确实是一件好事 动员和启发，所以我将把这些信息带给我的组织，然后再次将其推向，好吧，现在我们收集了所有这些洪水正在发生的地方，我们该怎么办？ 我认为这也很重要，即使您不知道自己在做什么，也要继续收集信息。
[Carter]: 因此，我有一个后续问题，因为我知道，我，也许这只是我的无知，但是我是 不知道该地区对河流的上升潮流有问题，并让水进入附近。 现在，您过去是否看到过这个证据？
[SPEAKER_02]: 是的，我应该澄清。 因此，专门针对这个项目，我们正在研究雨水洪水。 因此，当它像疯了一样下雨，而您的排水口无法握住所有的东西，或者即将到来，或者您的街道没有正确的排水。
[Carter]: 因此，可以这么说，因此我们实际上并不是在谈论河流溢出的河岸。
[SPEAKER_02]: 我们现在不是在谈论这一点。
[Carter]: 我们应该谈论它。 但是，是的，这也与众不同。 这对我来说很有意义。
[SPEAKER_02]: 但是，如果人们有关于这个故事的故事，我们也需要听到这一点，因为这一切都是相关的。
[Carter]: 确实是。 好的。 因此，这是第一个问题的推论。 许多人似乎对许多基岩气候科学都有否认。 在撤退环境保护和联邦政府更好地处理这些事情的愿望中。 这种事情如何影响您的组织？
[SPEAKER_02]: 是的，因此，我认为对我来说确实很有帮助的是，当我们谈论气候变化时，有时候，有时候，对我来说，这对我来说确实很有帮助。 我只是说我们正在谈论洪水或极端热量。 因为即使您正在与更像的人交谈， 哦，我不知道我是否相信。 就像，您相信今年夏天您真的很热，而且以前没有那么热吗？ 但是，仅仅因为人们不想这样做，我们就不必把它吸引到科学上，您可以说，好吧，河流正在侵蚀，或者您看不到那么多鸟。 您不必说的是气候，但人们可以与之联系，有点让齿轮转动。 至少这对我有帮助。
[Carter]: 因此，它最终以许多术语为例，以及您如何与人们交谈，以使那些人，无论是围栏上还是完全否认者还是其他任何东西，他们都可以在不需要他们的情况下与之相关地与之相关，您知道，在那里，有一个工程师试图让他们做一些事情，他们不想做任何事情。
[SPEAKER_02]: 绝对，是的。
[Carter]: 很好，很好。 好的，所以我喜欢和客人一起做这件事，希望我们可以玩。 所以我想玩一些单词关联游戏。 好的。 好的，我想做的是我想给你一个字词短语，请你给我一些关于这个单词字对你意味着什么的句子。 好的。 好的。 因此，您知道，在今晚的谈话过程中，我们实际上已经听到了几句话。 但是，当您听到入侵物种一词时，您会如何看待？
[SPEAKER_02]: 好的，我认为像一个邪恶的怪物，就像爬行，攀登，蒸腾和缠住。 因为它在本地植物上包裹着，所以它可以从字面上扼杀。 就像我去年在农场工作时一样，美丽的玉米被这只藤蔓窒息而来，就像一个怪物一样。
[Carter]: 葡萄藤是什么？
[SPEAKER_02]: 我很糟糕。 这可能很苦，但我不是科学家。
[Carter]: 令人恐惧，很可怕。 好的，但是身体上窒息了玉米。 是的，这很可怕，就像触手一样。 哇，听起来像是摔跤或类似的东西。 好吧，摩托艇。
[SPEAKER_02]: 我认为摩托艇对坎昆（Cancun）之类的东西真的很有趣，但我知道也许他们不是很多人都想在附近的河上看到的东西。
[Carter]: 是的，有点像神秘的湖泊。
[SPEAKER_02]: 可能是，实际上我的朋友有一只名为Jetski的猫，因为他快速危险，所以我也必须插入他。
[Carter]: 好吧，好吧。 您的同名，香农海滩。
[SPEAKER_02]: 哦，所以我父亲在阿灵顿长大，他总是向我们讲述他在他的晚餐之后如何，他的大叔叔或任何会让他在整个神秘湖泊中行走的故事。 因此，我有很多关于香农海滩的有趣故事，我记得它曾经被称为Sandy Beach。
[Carter]: 绝对地。
[SPEAKER_02]: 我记得当他们改变它时，我的另一个叔叔就像，嘿，你知道，他们称其为香农海滩。 我当时想，什么？ 但是其他所有人都对此有点生气。
[Carter]: 是的，好吧，每个人都对此感到生气，因为那是我们一直在桑迪海滩上长大，我们并不总是有很棒的故事，因为，您知道，就像我年轻的时候一样，我们知道，我们有时会被骚扰和麻烦，您知道，您知道，去海滩，因为，我们知道，我们看起来像其他人一样。 但是我们克服了它。 您知道，我们处理了它。 好的。 鲱鱼奔跑。
[SPEAKER_02]: 哦，鲱鱼奔跑。 我承认，我没去过鲱鱼。 所以我刚刚从11月开始。 但是我认为这是我组织所做的最酷的事情之一。 我认为这真是太不可思议了，因为我认为我们已经成为新英格兰最大的数量。 因此，我认为这是一个令人难以置信的故事，例如，有很多关于它的美丽的土著故事，就像鲱鱼的历史，令人难以置信。
[Carter]: 但是我实际上还没有看过它，所以这是我这个月的清单上的。 好吧，这是如此，另一件事是，它是如此的结缔组织，与该地区的美洲原住民的历史相连，因为这显然是一个很棒的食物来源和食品资源。 但这也是，您知道，只需带回所有人最初真正希望分享土地和成为好邻居的所有故事。 他们已经是好管家了，他们已经知道如何种植和钓鱼以及所有这些。 您知道，事情并没有很好地对他们有利。
[SPEAKER_02]: 尽管如此
[Carter]: 鲱鱼运转，您会发出呼吁人们出来算了鱼的呼吁，实际上有数百人想出来算了鱼真是太酷了。
[SPEAKER_02]: 是的，三天内填补了志愿老虎机。
[Carter]: 是的，这就是我的意思，这很疯狂。 太疯狂了。 好的，那么我们的听众和流域中的人们应该对Myra了解什么？
[SPEAKER_02]: 好吧，我想说您应该知道您总是欢迎您。 因此，如果您对他们的项目感兴趣，或者像我们的办公室在阿灵顿中心（Arlington Center），请在线上找到一封电子邮件，然后通过电子邮件发送电子邮件。 出现在那里，给我们写一封信，无论您想做什么。 只是来与我们交谈，我们总是愿意听到您与河流，环境有关的故事，听到您的担忧。 它确实是一个由社区驱动的组织。 由于社区的所有力量以及我们建立的新合作伙伴关系，我们之所以成长。 因此，只需找到一种方法或找到您感兴趣的一件事即可。 如果是鱼，垃圾，气候，任何东西，那就找到自己的路，有人会喜欢与您交谈并让您参与其中。
[Carter]: 因此，他们，我不确定它是如何拥有的，但是该组织在阿灵顿的宜人街上得到了这座大型的维多利亚时代的大房子，这真的非常非常酷，因为它就像您在工作和同时在家一样。 我去过那里几次会议等，甚至去洗手间或其他任何东西， 这很像在自己的家中。 它根本不像商务大楼，但真的很好。 而且它们非常非常开放和热情。 因此，就像您走过前门说，这是什么一样，他们会花时间与您一起闲逛，并向您展示您想谈论的话。 所以真的很好。 绝对地。 是的。 好的，所以我想给你最后一个词。 您的分开想法是什么？
[SPEAKER_02]: 好的，分开的想法是，我已经从这次谈话中感到启发了，我希望你们都对春天和一切发生的一切都感到有些唤醒，我认为对我来说，大自然是像重新定居自己一样与我们现在所处理的其他一切一样的最佳方式之一 无论您想做什么，就像现在像现在一样与邻居聚在一起。 我们比以往任何时候都需要更多，所以就到外面与某人交谈，您会感觉更好，非常好，所以我
[Carter]: 香农（Shannon）非常感谢您在大梅德福（Greater Medford）的这个社区中带来了广阔的观点和非常出色的组织和生态洞察力。 显然，迈拉（Myra）所做的重要工作，我希望梅德福（Medford）的人们 将越来越意识到流域的重要性，其作为资源的公平性以及其健康和安全保管。 显然，对于在房间里一直在观看的每个人，也是他们过去在电视领域所说的，非常感谢您的专心和对我们的讨论的兴趣。 感谢您与我们同时，因为我们继续刷新灵活性，并带来最佳故事和娱乐活动。 因此，在我们休息一下以重置舞台后，请准备好在硬币的音乐方面做一些特别的事情，然后再回来分享一些WMCC公告，然后我们将从单词和音乐的音乐部分开始。 谢谢，香农。
[SPEAKER_02]: 谢谢。
[Carter]: Thank you. All right. Okay, very good. Check, check. Okay. All right. Here we go. Here we go. All right. Boom, boom, boom. All righty. We're about ready. We're about ready. OK. We're good? OK. I wait to get my high sign from my man back there. Okay, so more often than not, and I'm going to hold off to the end with all the promotional stuff and so forth, because I want to get into this. More often than not, when we do Words in Music, we go out there and we beat the bushes and we find wonderful singers and we find, you know, outstanding musicians. We, you know, we've got, you know, we're looped into the Berkeley community and the New England Conservatory community, and we get some amazing folks to come in, you know, and do stuff for us. But it's Poetry Month. And my bishop, my pastor, would say to us all the time, he would say, it's a sorry frog that won't praise his own pond. So I'm calling my own number tonight. But, and I'm fortunate in this, I'm not doing it by myself. Several years ago, I had the outrageous fortune to link up with this guy. His name is Jonathan Fagan. Okay. And, you know, John kind of heard it through the grapevine that, you know, there was this poet guy out there doing some stuff that, you know, he kind of liked. And we talked, and one thing led to another, and we started talking about a collaboration. And the collaboration became what's known as the Ally Project. And the ally part is obviously a throw to the fact that we were both seeking a way to make poetry and music address some of the social justice issues that we both really feel very strongly about. And that's what it became. And it became that to the effect that we developed this quartet And that's Greg Toro on the bass back there. And our first drummer, John Dalton, real busy guy, doing a bunch of different stuff, and not always available to us. But because Jonathan knows like a million musicians, he was able to find a great drummer that could step into John's shoes. And we literally never missed a beat. So back here is Gordon Angleguy. Okay, and it was cool because we, you know, Jonathan is also the founder of the Medford Jazz Festival, which has been going on for several years now, in which we've had for the past three or four years, here at the community center right out in our backyard. And this summer it's gonna be in August, I think it's the 16th and the 17th, and it's a don't miss thing, because this kind of stuff just doesn't happen in West Medford very often. You want to be able to, you know, we set about 60 or 70 chairs back in the back, and the sun is shining, and oh man, it's a great atmosphere, and it's August, so it's still nice and warm and sunny. So it's a Saturday and a Sunday afternoon, and it's free. And you got access to Duggar Park, and there's refreshments, and we have a big time. So hopefully, you'll do that. But anyways. we've been playing together for several years now, and we actually, we cut a record. So over there on the table is a CD, if anybody still has a CD player, it's crazy. And it's called the Ally Project. So a lot of what we do tonight, and there's some new stuff too, because I'm working on my seventh book, but a lot of it is actually on that CD. So, Greg Toro, Gordon Engelgau, Jonathan Fagan, I'm Terry Cotter, and we are the Allied Project. All right? Can we play for you? All right, let's do it. Okay, John. Okay. This first piece we're going to do is called Hired by the Mystic. And for me, as a poet in West Medford, this is kind of where it all started. So, hopefully you'll enjoy it. They gave my people the lowlands, and not much of it, just a few streets hard by the river. Banks turned a blind eye behind the red lines, and it wasn't about the money. Class was an irresistible force. Race was an immovable object. Perhaps it wasn't the written rule, but white folks knew the legal tool to keep us in our place in this mystic valley space, where slaves and rum and ships had built some mansions, made some millionaires, and hid some old money. So it was hard by the mystic we went, muddy and a bit turned down, the only place where one could be brown in this ancient Middlesex County town. But we named it, we claimed it, we made it our own. Even in the heat of summer when the shores were parched and the soil was rank with the decay of aquatic alchemy, we were one with the river. We followed its flow to the lakes and the sandy beachfront. On our own Jordan shore, we baptized and blessed our brothers and sisters in Christ. We caught the little fishes to go with our loaves of bread and became the teeming multitude who our Lord Jesus fed, hired by the mystic. We became community. We commanded unity. We embraced the village and raised up our children in the way they should go. As the river ebbs and flows, the tides will turn and our fortune grows. A few more streets become our home. Houses on Sharon join Kin on Jerome. From Duggar Park to the railroad tracks, the white folks make more room for blacks. The color line recedes a bit. Church and school and center fit. The Ville becomes the heart of it, hard by the mystic shore. Now the worm has surely learned and folks who left have surely learned things couldn't stay the same. That muddy mystic most days is clean. The banks are freshly cut and green. Faces once distinctly brown are not the only ones in town. These streets that once were our confines must now embrace what gentry defines, condominium culture, bedroom convenience, university sprawl, access, egress, invest, and dispossess. Now those lowlands have become the highlights of a trending city. And sometimes that success isn't pretty when it's at the expense of your black and brown and tan friends. And yet, the river still turns and bends from where it begins to where it ends. the only place where one could be brown in this ancient Middlesex County town. But we named it, we claimed it, and made it our own. Very good. Very good. So when I'm feeling nostalgic, I always go back to living in West Medford. I live in Randolph now. When my wife and I first got married, and we've been married almost 38 years now, The first five years that we were married, we lived on Arlington Street in a rental apartment that some friends of my family had. And loved it here in West Medford. But she was working for, actually for Boston Water and Sewer at the time, and they pressed the residency requirement. And she was six months from getting grandfathered. So we had to move into Boston in order for her to keep her job. She liked her job. I liked her liking her job. So, you know, so we moved. And we moved to Dorchester. And we lived in two different apartments in Dorchester for about 17 years. And then it was, you know, when we thought that we had all of our ducks in a row to be able to buy a house, we came back to Medford first to look. Couldn't touch it. Couldn't touch it. So we started looking. We looked in Boston for like that long. But you could touch, if you couldn't touch Medford, you definitely couldn't touch Boston, especially in the areas where we, that we were interested in. And we started looking south and we had some friends in Randolph. We started looking in Randolph and we finally found a nice place. We have a nice little split level ranch with a big yard in Randolph and that's home. But Home is where the heart is, obviously. So again, whenever I want to reminisce and think back to the good old days, I come back to my West Medford home. And I work here during the week, and it keeps me connected. And the beauty of it is that my mother, my father, and my baby brother all had cancer, and they passed away. And I had it, but I beat it. You know, God is good. And they're looking down on me and I hope they're proud of me. But anyways. It gave me an opportunity, coming back to work at the community center, to be in West Medford, to be with my family, to go through some of what they were going through, and to be there as a resource for them while they were going through it. So, you know, they say, never curse the bridge that brought you safely over. So I never, never curse West Medford. But I do care some of the things that have happened to West Medford that have made it less West Medford for a lot of folks. So this is a little bit of that. I'm not mad. I'm just truthful. This is called Corner Lot. Okay. Getting a little bit of fuzzy fuzzy. Okay. We good? We better? Okay. Okay. Thank you. standing at the apex of Arlington and Jerome, trying to remember the black and the brown and the tan. Ronnie and Otis used to live in the big house on the corner lot. It's probably changed hands half a dozen times since then. Current owner's been there for a minute. He's good with his hands and knows his way around wood and tools. Place has been gussied up quite a bit. Picket fence is off-white, but if you know, you know. Asian kid in a Tufts hoodie just whipped by in a helmet and rollerblades. Didn't see much of that back in the day. The university sort of hit on a hillside trying its best to be a baby Ivy. But the cohorts come here all the time now. Basketballs, tennis rackets, and pickleball paddles in tow on bikes, benzos, and rollerblades. We used to bust ourselves up pretty good on rickety metal skates with clunky keys and leather straps. Nothing a little Vaseline and Mercura comb couldn't handle. How did Henley put it in Invictus? Oh yeah, bloodied but unbowed. Not too many white and off-white kids hanging out down here back then. It was as if the invisible lines once drawn to keep us in sometimes kept other folks out too. Now they've pretty much taken over. Duggar Park, the Rhone Tennis Courts, the Hervey Schoolyard, and a hundred addresses on Arlington, Lincoln, and Jerome. A host of our remembered places, so few of our original faces. Meanwhile, back at Ronnie and Otis's old place, I'm still standing like that centurion, knowing that Jesus doesn't have to go in to heal his servant. He just has to speak a word. I keep hoping that he'll speak a word to the Cornelot, too, and bring back the black and the brown and the tan. Across the street is the river. It's low tide, but the smell is gone and the grass is greener than I recall. That was our little park, away from Duggar and a lot less hectic. We had makeshift bases or discarded cones for football and softball. We lost a few in the river, but nobody was going in that muck to retrieve anything. We'd probably wade in that water today. They planted some trees there many years ago. They're all pretty big now. Maple and ash, I think. Nobody plays baseball or football there anymore. But there are lots of dogs frolicking off leash and gaggles of fat geese daring pitties, pugs, and poodles to chase them off. I can't imagine my childhood without losing a few softballs there. I can't imagine not hearing Mrs. Allen calling James Michael to come eat, or little Charlie watching us play from his folding chair, because his spindly legs were too weak to let him run. I can't imagine that I'm still here. But Ronnie and Otis, Darryl King, Frankie French, Aaron McDaniel, and Marky Davis are all gone. Everyone had a nickname back then. Darryl was super fast, so we called him Road Runner and Jack Rabbit. Mark was thick as a big tree trunk, so we came up with oak for him. Aaron was bud, Frankie was fruit man, and I was top cat. Too cool, ran the school. Everyone wants the corner lot. Little more land, and perhaps the new perspectives that angles create. I wonder if that meant anything to Ronnie and Otis, or Jed and Miles and Gib, Barry, Coco, Keith Wing, and Kenny Byfield. It certainly meant something to the white folks looking to displace, transplant, and uproot the local color. Black folks built homes here, only place where we were allowed to be, where they could color inside the lines Medford once drew against the perceived discomforts of darker skin. We were here first. First firefighters, police officers, war heroes, shop owners, tradesmen, postal chiefs, teachers, artists, and preachers. We were the human bedrock of the only neighborhood they'd let us build. The old church is gone. Nelson even changed the street number as if to erase the fact that the original Shiloh Baptist ever existed. But if you know, you know. That corner lot still has a cornerstone. And Nelson couldn't do nothing about it without a more draconian demolition. two more condos in the house of the Lord, two more houses that us first folk can't afford, two more dismissals of the blessing of his word, one more holy stone rejected and ignored. Okay, nostalgia is hard sometimes, whew. Okay, so, but it's also happy sometimes, so that's what this next piece is about. And you may have heard it before, but you're getting ready to hear it once again more. Okay. Okay. Thank you. The Little Store, you're right there. All right. Good, good. Okay. It was a tiny red hovel on Upper Jerome. A bit run down and rough around the edges. And Mr. Henry seemed so old to us, even then, with a lot of whiskers, impatient and a little scary. One would suspect that he didn't even like kids. But he really must have loved us. Or else, where did all that penny candy come from? He had all of it, no seriously. We'd bust in there with a few nickels or a handful of pennies, all loud and unruly. He'd hush us up while he finished up with grown folks' business. Then he'd be back, like a black Willy Wonka up in that old shack. He'd peer over those old horn-rimmed glasses and tell us he didn't have all day. Then he'd blow open one of those small brown craft paper bags and get to stuffing while we were oohing and aahing and huffing and puffing. See, Mr. Henry had all the treats, all of our favorites, a hundred great sweets. root beer barrels and pixie stip, squirrel nut zippers and banana splits, green mint juleps and button strips, red licorice ropes and bottle nips. He had bazooka Joe bubblegum and a tiny sucker called a dum-dum, jawbreakers and tootsie rolls, sugary love for little kids' souls. Candy necklaces to wear and bite, and waxy red lips was such a sight. Fat gum cigars and kids cigarettes, right beside the crunchy six-lets. Mary Jane chewies and BB bats, hot fireballs and Mexican hats. Just the genuine Hershey's kisses, all the hits and none of the misses. Like kits, taffy squares, and Necco wafers, liquor made in Boston baked beans, gold rocks, nuggets of gum in a bag, a kid's idea, sweet to swag. Before the days of Laffy Taffys, we would gobble up peppermint patties. Before we knew about gummy bears, Twizzlers always came in pairs. Chewy cow tails had a creamy filling, but sugar babies had top billing. Reese's peanut butter cups had us squealing like newborn pups. Mike and Ikes and orange slices, saltwater taffy and tiny prices. Lifesavers and charms and fruity flavors, we grabbed those bags like potty favors. Chuckles were a favorite choice, and Milk Duds made us all rejoice. Jolly Ranchers and Bitter Honey, we always got a lot for our money. Talk about kids getting excited. You can't imagine the flame he ignited. Our greedy fingers could barely wait to take that candy like fish take bait. From cold January to chilly December, more kinds of candy than I can remember. At the Ville storefront on Upper Jerome, I knew I had to write this poem. See, Mr. Henry had all the treats, all of our favorites, 100 great sweets. Yeah, a little nicer, a little nicer. OK, very good. Where we going, Jenny? Yes, yes, absolutely. Okay. So in many ways, we as a country are in a bit of a crisis. And unless you were Massachusetts, Pawtucket, Nipmuck, Wampanoag, in this area, you came from someplace else. So this piece is called Beloved Country, and you'll get it. Ah, pat it now, kid. I love it. I can love this country, too. I didn't have to be born on these barney shores. I didn't have to be a son of the Pentacook, Quinnipiac, or Mohican. I didn't have to have a pilgrim pedigree or be a Connecticut Yankee from King Arthur's Corps. I can be the Dahomey, the Pole, or the child of Caribbean suns in Amazon shade. I can love this country too. My green card was a welcome ticket to a new life in a new land. My passport was stamped with new hopes and new dreams. My suitcases were packed full with new aspirations and some apprehensions too. Perhaps I didn't see the harbor sign that said, give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. The wretched refuse of your teeming shore, send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door. Perhaps I didn't see the lady in the lamp, but I did see the gleaming city on a hill that couldn't be hid, and my soul responded. I can love this country too. I can love its rolling meadows and its gospel songs. I can love its asphalt highways and its born-to-run boss. I can love its teeming ghetto and its urban sprawl. I can love its old spires, new minarets, and golden menorahs. But can America love me too? Can she love my curry spices, roti, and oxtails? Can she love my hijab and henna tattoos? Can she love my Hajj, my Mecca, and my Medina? Can she love my Cinco de Mayo and Dia de los Muertos? Can she love my kente cloth, dredge, twist, and locks? Can she love the skin I'm in? Be it ebony, ivory, dulce de leche, or cafe au lait. Can she love me by name? Chicana Glory, Muhammad bin Said, Anastasia Kozov, Cleophis Dorsey, or Claudia Gonzalez. Can she love me by name? And what if I am among those huddled masses in that wretched refuge or that homeless, tempest-tossed? Will she continue to lift her lamp? Or do war and rumors of war, IEDs, sleeper cells, and faith distortions make me a pariah to be eliminated, a scourge to be annihilated, and a plague to be exterminated? I come in peace. And I love this country too. I love its boundless opportunity. I love its generosity of spirit. I love the audacity of its hope. I love its rolling meadows and its joyful songs. I love its asphalt highways and its little red Corvette. I love its teeming ghetto and its urban sprawl. I love its old spires, new minarets, and golden menorahs. And I love America too. I come in peace. And I love America too. All right. All right. All right. Greg Toro on the big sexy bass. Gordon Angle Gow on the drums. Jonathan Fagan on the keys. All right. All right. Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. All right, so here's the corollary. All right, because there's always got to be some connective tissue to this stuff. All right, so we're going to do a piece called Alienation. And it's really, really on my mind right now. So maybe on a lot of y'all's as well. So here we go. Is this great? What does this mean? Okay, all right. Here is a fence without a gate. You can't get in, you have to wait. You can't be foreign or somehow strange. This isn't your home, home on the range. You can't arrive in a rickety boat. Our castle has a treacherous moat. We won't host refugees at our door. You're not the sort we're looking for. Take good note. We stay on guard. We don't want you in our backyard. Despite the dangers you seek to avoid, our best deterrents have been deployed. You say your country's full of peril. But like stray cats, we think you're feral. We think you're prone to filth and crime. We don't want either at this time. We don't care what the nations say. They won't do more than hope and pray. Our stance is clear on human rights. Lock the door. Turn off the lights. You saw that statue in the bay. It stood for liberty until today. It welcomed tired and huddled masses, not criminals from your underclasses. We've got militias on the border. They own big guns to keep the order. Law enforcement lets them stay to help them keep your kind at bay. Why do we feel that this is good? Why can't we share the neighborhood? Is it because you're black and brown? No, we just choose to stand our ground. stay in your place, deal with your issues. We'll send lots of coal and tissues. Don't form caravans and run. You'll find yourself in the sight of a gun. There are no streets here lined with gold. Our eyes are closed, our hearts are cold. There is no flowing milk and honey. American skies are not that sunny. The fences we build keep aliens out. They serve to keep our faith devout. This land we scheme to make our own, it's ours, you see, and ours alone. As long as you stay on the other side, we can maintain our national pride. Please don't show us your anguished faces. We're cutting back on other races. We've had enough of this global inclusion. We're ridding this country of race confusion. We know how to win these fights and limit all these civil rights. Safety nets in the welfare state will have to stop for the lost and late. A rising tide that favors the rich. That's our favorite campaign pitch. Me Too movements and Black Lives Matter? In all due time, your ranks will scatter. You think that you shall overcome? Just cross this line. We'll give you some. We'll give you a taste of burning churches and black boys hung from oaks and birches. We'll give you a taste of incarceration in prisons.com, the corporate plantation. We're taking this country back to a time when a brown life wasn't worth a dime, except for the way it worked in the field, except for a bushel of crops to yield. We're taking this country back to the day when white meant right in every way, when men of privilege could rape and beat and kill for spite, then lie and cheat. We're taking this homeland back to the season when hooded marauders needed no reason to hunt folks down with rifles and dogs through the lonely woods, the swamps, and bogs. When Confederate flags were boldly raised and crosses in the darkness blazed and the land was full of racial hate served with grits on a breakfast plate. You thought this worm had surely turned and young black bodies no longer burned. Yet here you are again today with the specter of prejudice winning the day. The MAGA caps we wear with pride, they let us know who's on our side. That pointed hood and long white robe, fine clothes for the xenophobe. Perhaps this place that immigrants covet can somehow heal and rise above it. Until that day, our best advice to call this home, you'll pay a price. You'll pay a price as many misguided embrace the hate their voice provided. His Twitter rants and sound bites full of ethnocentric cock and bull. You'll pay a price as higher walls lead great climbers to greater falls. Where fences are the new condition announcing the refugees abolition. This isn't our nation's greatest hour, this flexing of white supremacist power. And yet, the season is fully revealing the stain of hatred we've been concealing. So take good note and be on guard of deadly traps around the yard. Our agents are on high alert to keep you foreigners off this dirt. Tolerance is in short supply. We won't let your kind occupy this sacred land our forebears built. We don't subscribe to Anglo guilt. This fence was built without a gate to keep out all who come here late. To all you aliens, we don't like strange. No room at the inn in our home on the range. Yeah, okay. All right, so you've had a lot of the social justice, but not as much as the outright jazz. So we're going to do the outright jazz right now. This is called Okay, so backstory on this is Herbie Hancock wrote a beautiful composition many years ago called Tell Me a Bedtime Story, and Quincy Jones re-recorded it beautifully. So this is a reimagining of Tell Me a Bedtime Story, and it's called Tell Me Another Bedtime Story. Is this where the Sandman picks up each grain, restoring the beauty, reducing the pain? Is this where we fly to never, never land like a troop of lost boys with Peter Pan? All of the mystery of hidden dreams, nothing now is as it seems. Tell a sweet tale that sugars and creams with flashes of stardust and shining moonbeams. As I lay down to my slumber, paint a landscape of ochre and umber. Let there be a hint of romance. Turn up the quiet. Love wants to dance. tell me a bedtime story please of secret gardens and pecan trees of babbling brooks and waterfalls of gentle breezes that summer calls of hidden havens and wondrous spaces of astral planes and mystical places Let there be a melody that sings in four-part harmony. Let it resound in symphony, then fold into dreamland's reverie. Tell me a fable of Arabian nights spread on a table of earthly delights, free from the label of anger and fights, willing and able to scale higher heights. Tell me a bedtime story now, as the baby rocks in the maple bough, as the blue ox puts his nose to the plow, and the sweaty farmer wipes his brow, as each green seedling happily vows to yield each fruit the ground allows, and seven dwarves whistle a happy tune, and sleeping beauty awakens soon. Let there be a melody that sings in four-part harmony. Let it resound in symphony, then fold into dreamland's reverie. This is a time when the sandman whispers, and seven grooms meet seven sisters, and the prairie sings an ode to love as angels release the turtle dove. For now, I lay me down to sleep and pray to God my soul to keep. Gordon Angle got on the drums. Yeah, buddy. Real nice, real nice, real nice. Okay, so let's do another jazz piece. Is this just me and you? Okay, so if you know the jazz canon at all, you know like the big names and you know, Miles Davis and you know, John Coltrane and you know, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, you know, you just, you know the big names. Sometimes the folks that could go by a first name only. This was one of those people. And you could use either his first name or his last name. You could call him Monk or you could call him Thelonious. And everybody knew who you were talking about. I call him Thelonious. All right, anyways. This piece is called Thelonious Assault. Kind of play on words. Okay. You were the mystic and the mage with every scribble on each lined page. So deadly serious at that bench with eyes ablaze and teeth in clench. Tones that spin, discordant perfection, harmonic twists in every direction. What is the meaning of all this scatter as you summon rhythmic anti-matter? Why must you rage and violently pound each key to achieve such a potent sound, reveling in a cerulean funk? You were the least obedient monk. Sometimes you'd wax melodic and quiet. Then you'd revert to the din of a riot. Every chord with a stranglehold on conventional music's centerfold. A bit of the Duke's panache in style with James P. Johnson's strident guile. Yours was the most ambitious spirit in every bar the night can hear it. The grand piano majestically sits. It has no sense of the crimes it commits. It tolerates explosive bits of cosmic slop as the maestro sits. In a soft felt fez or a pork pie hat? You are a different kind of cat. Fingers like Harlem stickball bats, scurrying quick like tenement rats. Over those keys while the saxophone scats. Over those keys while the drummer pats. Over those keys with sharps and flats while the bass man thumbs out welcome mats. In front of the door of Handy and Fats. Real conversation, not idle chats. Wed to the notes like a pretty young wife, you brought jazz piano back to life. And made the music cut like a knife, skipping chords and dissonant strife. Never to march like a drum and fife, with crackling sparks your soul was rife. Yet waves of sickness embraced your spirit. The music allowed you to hardly hear it. Oceans of darkness and you didn't fear it. A constant hurdle, we watched you clear it. Oh, rather we listened in special awe As camels buckled with every straw You piled on top of harmonic law As bop and stride made doubters thaw You'd ever succumb to a tragic flaw And be undone by depression's claw So still, the vinyl adorns the platter as we revel in musical anti-matter. Madame Panonica's lilting splatter round midnight with a truly mad hatter. Solitude embraces a tortured soul that scales the peaks of an opposite pole through a Thorazine haze that takes its toll. And still the maestro maintains control. The Steinway bursts in dynamic tone, and yet the madness won't leave him alone. The abbot cowers and runs to pray as the musical friar prepares to slay. The Steinway engages in mystical work while legions of demons quietly lurk, ready to take the altar away to assault the monk as we hear him play. Jonathan Fagan on the keys, channeling his inner Thelonious. Very good. Okay, let's do Legacy and if Bobby had a choice. Okay, all right. So, we're gonna do a piece called Legacy that we really, really love. I hope I can find it. Okay, here we go. All right. This is for the storytellers in all of us. Okay, here we go. It's not for you to tell your own story. That is the burden of your children. They must shoulder this yoke with love and loyalty. And yet, you have not gathered them and bid them sit before the campfires of their elders. You have not seasoned their meals with the spice of their identity and the savor of their names. How will they learn to walk the walk and talk the talk? How will they learn to tell your stories even as they live out their own? Sons and daughters and heirs, if you didn't smell the burning ash or feel the warmth of the flame on your neck, you don't know. If you didn't revel in the growl of the griot's earthy reply or the trill of the mockingbird's cry, you don't know. If mama was too tired and daddy too long gone to carry the wood, light the spark, and stoke the flames, you don't know. And until the lion cub knows how to tell the pride stories, the hunters will always tell them first. The good book says, train up the child in the way they should go. Will we let them depart from the community of faith and the city on a hill without the master's touch, without the oil of his anointing and his full measure of grace? Will we not show them Anansi's clever ways, Popo and Fufina's journey, Mufaro's beautiful daughters, the people who could fly, the wonders of Wakanda, and Songololo's new tackies? The prophet says he will encourage fathers and their children to return. But how will they know the way home if no map charts the seas, measures the roads, sites, the peaks and valleys, and names each forest despite the thickening trees? Will the burden of the elder stories be too heavy for the children? Will they care to carry? Will they dare to tarry? Will they linger at the foot of the griot? Will they hunger for the wisdom of the sage? We must put them on the page, where hard work earns the man his wage, where power is measured by God's own gauge, where miracles scoff at the wand of a mage. We must share with them the truth that is loyal and fierce, like Naomi and Ruth, that doesn't wait for the confessional booth, that has the bite of the panther's tooth. This is a gift of legacy, where a glorious past sets the captives free, and a candle's light beckons liberty. Sons and daughters and heirs, I bid you sit before the campfires of your elders, hear their stories, gather up their stones, and build up your strength. They will show you Anansi's clever ways, Popo and Fafina's journey, Mufaro's beautiful daughters, the people who could fly, the wonders of Wakanda and Songololo's new tackies. Soon, you will be the herald. Write these things down on the tablets of your spirit. Let them put a running in your feet. With each quickening step, you repel the arrows of the hunter with the shield of abiding faith. You capture the flags of your enemies and gather up their spoils. You remain the lions of the pride and your tails will always be your children's brand. You will never abandon the community of faith, though you build a thousand cities on a hill, drawing wonderous strength from the master's touch as the oil of his anointing fills your clay jars with his grace. Cool. All right. A long while ago, I wrote this piece, and Ruth Youngblood, God Rest Her Gentle Soul, it was her favorite, favorite poem. And whenever she would hear me, you know, or be somewhere where I was going to read poetry, she would always say, Are you gonna do the Barbie poem? Are you gonna do the Barbie poem? And the poem was called Barbie Doesn't Live Here. I hope that Ruth is in eternity smiling down on us right now, because I wrote a corollary to that poem that I think that she would like as well, and it's called If Barbie Had a Choice. If Barbie had a choice, I believe that from day one, she would have made it a black thing. She would have ditched the creamsicle skin and gone with the lustrous ebony you. She would have spoken with an evil dialect with a true queen's attitude and said, to hell with you colonizers. package me up in a pink box with white lettering and a bunch of beachy palms and sand in the background? I think not. You can't get these ample breasts and these curvaceous hips into that Goldie Hawn psychedelic mini. I'ma need a little something more substantial. I'ma need copious yards of single-leaf cotton with shiny batik totems and all the colors of the motherland. I'ma need a Wakanda seamstress straight out of the Ruth Powder School to hook the thing right and show the world what I'm working with. I'ma need Maiden Dahomey, not by Mattel and Disney. If Barbie had a choice, Ken would have looked more like Ali or Denzel or that fine ass dark chocolate British cat Idris Elba. He would have been melanated, not barely suntanned. And by no means would he have seen more holiday tissue wrap than 150 grit sandpaper. He would have been swashbuckling like Marvel's T'Challa, woke like Tupac, and standing on business like Brother Malcolm. She would have kissed that man with unretouched, un-botoxed, black girl lips, lush and full as a tropical rainforest. She would have engulfed her man in every quaking inch of the last poet's black thighs. If you don't know, YouTube it. She would have no need for a Brazilian butt lift or a Beverly Hills boob job or an Adobe Photoshop session. Mother Africa and a generous genome took care of all of that. You feel me? If Barbie had a choice, you would never have been able to buy her at Toys R Us, F.A.O. Schwartz, or Mary Arnold's. She wouldn't have been a fake trophy bride, a chick on the side, or a Bonnie for Clyde. She wouldn't have been an American Girl Addie, a hot Lana Batty, or Dance Moms Maddie. She wouldn't have been It Girl Margot Robbie, or Cherry Pie's Barbie, or P. Diddy Harvey. I'ma close the flow with a few more rhymes, just a few bronze bars to end this on time. A new newbie and Bobby wouldn't stand for nonsense. A brother's pursuit couldn't sit on the fence. Her womanly wiles would be truly immense. A player would just find her game too intense. With never a true shot at love's recompense. Though he might pull up in a Bentley or Rolls, he'd lose by a landslide at a real queen's pose. A new newbie in Bobby would demand mad respect. She wouldn't suffer abuse or neglect. She'd fight for her own like a goji elite. She wouldn't be tame, demure, or petite. No, things would be different on this I make bet. A pimp or a hustler would not be a threat. As fine as the print on the national debt, her beauty and wisdom would not break a sweat. That glitzy white Barbie might have a toy jet, but she hasn't landed a soul plane yet. My African queen makes the real kings forget. though she might wanna keep that fly pink Corvette. All right, all right. Greg Toro on the bass. Gordon Angle, guy on the drums. My man, Jonathan Fagan on the piano. I'm Terry E. Carter. You've been a very gracious and lovely audience. That's pretty much it for the music portion of this evening. I just want to make a few announcements, a few pauses for the cause. So give me just a second. All right, so again, thanks to everyone who's joined us for the more recent Fresh Fridays program. We've had a lot, we have lots more great conversations to explore and more great music to discover and connect you with. Elders, join us each week, Tuesday through Thursday, for a nutritious lunch and a vibrant fellowship. Lunch is served at 12 noon. Call 781-483-3042 to make a reservation. Please join us in WMCC membership and make sure that we have your contact information for future outreach and noise. Check our indoor and outdoor bulletin boards regularly for all kinds of valuable information and community updates. WMCC is planning a few special events for the celebration of our 90th anniversary as a legacy neighborhood organization in Medford. Stay tuned for more news about these events that will take place over Memorial Day weekend. How you can help us? Your tax-deductible donations help to support the mission of WMCC. We're dealing with the probability of less money from CDBG grant because of them potentially getting less or potentially no money from the federal government who we are in deep doo-doo with apparently because we live here in Massachusetts. But that's another story for another day. Partner with us in carrying the mission forward. Please consider making a tax deductible donation to this vital community organization. You make your donation, by phone, online, or by check, please contact Lisa Crossman at 781-483-3042 for more information or to become a member. Okay, so Wednesday, May 7th, 2025, from 6 to 8 p.m., commemorate the significant roles that black people played in the battles of Lexington and Concord on April 19th, 1775. Military Patriot Silas Burdue had a key role in that battle. He was an active combatant, and there's been a documentary made about that called the Black Patriots of Lexington. And there's some screenings that will be taking place. okay and and one of them actually will be here at the community center on wednesday may seventh uh... twenty twenty five from six to eight p m west method community center offers community resource drop-in hours with community liaison stacy more and will be She'll be talking to folks as they feel led to talk about MassHealth, the Massachusetts Health Connector, heat assistance, SNAP and WIC, and MBTA reduced fares. So, you know, she's available and she definitely wants to talk with folks here in West Medford. uh... how can you protect yourself from fraud the a a r p is having a spotting scams and staying safe workshop it's free here at the west medford community center five sixteen twenty five or may sixteen uh... two thousand twenty five at eleven a m and you can register online and this will be back on the bulletin board i think it already is and there's an online address where you can register to join in. I want to say thank you to Shannon Collins for joining us tonight and really, really explaining a lot of the good stuff that Myra is doing here in Medford, Massachusetts. I want to say thank you to the great sponsors of WMCC First Fridays program, Medford Arts Council, Medford Community Media, soon to be, if not already, Myra missed river watershed association make sure that we have the email address if you want to be included in our regular constant contact outreach you can also call us anytime at seven eight one forty three zero Thanks again to the Starwarts back there at Medford Community Media, Kevin Harrington, a super volunteer, Mark Davidson. Thanks for lending us your expertise and as usual keeping us on time and in good shape to do what we do. I'm Terry E. Carter. I'm happy to have shared this time with you tonight. That's the Ally Project. And we've loved presenting for you here this evening. Take good care. Have a wonderful night. And we'll hopefully see you back here again soon. Thank you. Oh yeah, if you're interested.