Who We Are
Change-Makers, Bridge-Builders & Edge-DwellersWe are a community that organizes around transformative social justice, ecological solidarity, collapse awareness, and land-based community living. We’re dedicated to creating a culture of creativity, ritual, and belonging. We envision a world where our human systems support deeply democratic, equitable, and environmentally regenerative communities. We identify the descending paradigm as a combination of interlocking systems that includes but is not limited to colonialism, cis-hetero-patriarchy, white supremacy, oligarchy, and fascism. These systems sustain a world where people meet their needs at the expense of others. We believe these oppressive systems are at the root of global instability and collapse, and we recognize our responsibility in ushering in a new paradigm rooted in interdependence and nourishing shared-power relationships with all of life. We experience community as essential to gaining and maintaining the courage and resilience that is needed in these times, as we face ongoing ecocide and genocide playing out before our eyes. We seek to hold ourselves, and the wider community, responsible for and accountable to creating a world that fosters health, happiness, and care for all beings.
I’ve had my fair share of experiences that left me cracked open, shattered, groundless. Experiences I would never choose to do again, yet I wouldn’t change if I could. They have left me fuller, deeper, more empathic, more alive, more connected to all that is. When I was 10 years old my older brother, Brett, died of a heroin overdose. He had long, beautiful hair, wore a snakeskin belt, and played the guitar with magic fingers. He’s someone I looked up to and loved my entire life, and then one day he was gone. Everything changed in an instant. That’s when I began my walk with grief. Though for a long time it felt less like a walk and more like a battle — a lonely battle in which I was much too small of a warrior. When I was 21, I experienced another life-shattering event. Something that left me forever scarred, and completely blown open. Six weeks before graduating from college, I was run over by a drunk driver. I had a traumatic brain injury which left me with over 200 stitches in my head, a broken pelvis, and crushed knee. That night the doctors couldn’t tell me if I would live. Later they told me I would never finish my college degree and never go on to get a Masters or Doctorate (proved them wrong on all counts — told you my soul is rebellious). And, of course, I’ve been through other losses and transitions including devastating breakups, an abortion, divorce, a chronically and terminally ill sister, witnessing the ongoing destruction of nature and animals, and living in an unjust and domesticated civilization. All of these have pained me and changed me. None of these are mine alone; everyone has stories of loss and sorrow, some similar, some completely different. Now, as I find sustainable relationships with grief and gratitude, I feel more fulfilled than ever before. I feel a deep connection with my soul, the Earth, and all that’s unfolding. So, I cry often and laugh a lot. I try to speak the fuck up when needed and step back to listen when appropriate. I'm in love with nature, land, animals, and community. I'm the guardian of two dachshunds, a miniature mule, miniature donkey, and goat who are some of my primary teachers. On any given day you can find me painting rocks, reading, connecting with my friends and animals, or writing about grief, the Earth, justice, and love.