Newsletters
So grateful for beloved friend Robin Bean Crane who made this digital art this morning for this newsletter! They are co-coordinating an “Embodied Divestment” mini series in February with art.coop, Resource Generation and Rad Planners, offering somatic, creative and financial tools to move money out of militarism and into the solidarity economy. Reach out to them if you’re interested.
Divest from War, Invest in Life - 12.15.23
In this time of unimaginable heartbreak, with ongoing genocide in Palestine and elsewhere, I’m often struggling to find words that feel right or actions that feel meaningful. Then I remember I don’t have to figure it out alone. I share here ways to move money (and redistribute decision-making power to those who know where it’s needed), as well as ways to divest from and defund the war.
Decolonial Dames of America on an ancestral “ger/guest/kuuy” altar in Tovaangar
Announcing Decolonial Dames of America - 3.31.23
I am excited to share with you that Decolonial Dames of America has just been published! This pocket-sized book is my personal exploration of the repair work required of white descendants of colonial settlers and enslavers in North America. Write to me for a copy. Also, what a joy last month to have a deep and potent conversation with my friend Ayana Young on her podcast For The Wild.
Poem by Winona Luv. Photo by me, on the path of Reparations Procession, July 2020
We have to clear our ancestors’ bullshit - 5.25.22
I’ve been thinking a lot about shadow projection in the wake of the tragedy in Buffalo. Whiteness has a tendency to externalize its own violence by assigning it to others. Our ancestors raped the people they enslaved, but deemed Black men sexual predators. Our ancestors brutally murdered Indigenous people, but labeled them savages. And now, huge numbers of our fellow white people are afraid of a “Great Replacement”, which is, of course, what we did. We are afraid that what we did will be done back to us. The answer is not repeating ourselves with yet more violence, but turning towards truth-telling, healing and repair.
Click the image to listen to the podcast.
Intergenerational conversations - 10.31.21
“It’s the beginning of the story of our family no longer standing with the status quo around wealth hoarding. It’s the beginning of the story of our family saying “We want to be part of building a more just world.”” This is a quote from me from a three hour interview I did with my dad a few weeks ago for NPR Marketplace’s podcast This is Uncomfortable, which features "stories about the unanticipated ways money affects relationships, shapes identities and often defines what it means to be an adult." In this newsletter, I also share the practice of writing a letter to your descendants, including this one that I wrote: Post-pandemic, post-revolution.
When Niria & I went to her homelands of Chihuahua in 2019, she took me to the Historical Museum of the Mexican Revolution. When we were in the gift shop she gave me a postcard: “Atención, gringo, you are needed in the revolución.”
Giving thanks for my friends - 9.18.21
One of the strangest things so far about being at Harvard Divinity School is being in a culture of individuals again. After five years living in beloved community at Canticle Farm (which is still home, I’ll be back soon!), it’s an adjustment to just say “Hi, I’m Morgan” without all the people that have formed and shaped me visible at my back. So this newsletter is coming to you in that spirit, giving thanks for four of the friendships that have made me who I am, by way of invitations to join us at upcoming offerings.
With brontë velez: The Climate of Relationships and Intersectionality, October 4, 7pm ET
With Niria Alicia: Transforming Ancestral Legacies toward A More Just World, December 3, 10am PT
Rematriate the Land! One of the first two houses to soon be under Ohlone stewardship. Graphic by Sogorea Te’ Land Trust, from Rematriating a House in Huchiun.
Rematriate the Land (& I’m going to Harvard Divinity) - 8.14.21
"To do Indigenous led work in one the most expensive “real estate markets” in the world, Indigenous people have to be able to live here. While our work opens urban Indigenous access to land in many important ways, we still don’t actually “own” any land. Our local tribe doesn’t “own” any land. None of the Indigenous people on our staff “own” land. We cannot build housing on the land we currently have access to. So we’re going to start buying it back. A rare opportunity has come to us and we want to take it. Help us buy our first house. Help us return this land to Indigenous Hands.”
Sitting at the grave of my nine-greats-grandfather who “settled” Cupheag in Paugussett territory (Stratford, CT) in 1638, one year after a devastating massacre ended the Pequot War nearby. Photo by Kailea Frederick, spring 2017.
Ancestors & Money: A 4 month cohort program - 2.23.21
Amongst all the feelings at an ancestor’s graveside, I practice gratitude for their life that allowed mine to be, whisper my grief and grievances for their choices, and invite their partnership in the healing, justice and reparations work we all need. The work of wealth redistribution isn't about disowning our ancestors, but becoming closer to them by telling the truth of their times, committing to transform and transmute the trauma they caused, and not letting wealth inequality, racial violence and climate chaos be the final chapter of their legacy.
Quote by me, meme by Blue Heart Action
#REPARATIONSMONDAY - 11.30.20
“The secret of great fortunes is a forgotten crime.” - Honoré de Balzac. While #GivingTuesday may inspire generous giving, it doesn’t question the harm caused in accruing wealth to begin with. Cue: #ReparationsMonday. I invite you to reflect on where your family’s money story intersects with harm. Where does this reflection point you towards in terms of moving $$ towards healing?
Art by @jessxsnow
This is what democracy looks like - 10.23.20
As we face the possibility of a coup in the so-called “United” States, it’s pivotal that those of us with wealth & class privilege show up with our votes, time and money in support of the leadership of those most impacted by the current administration.
Art by @micahbazant
Moving money like black lives matter - 5.29.20
As yet another Black person dies at the hands of the police in the United States, it is important to honor and feel grief and rage at the violence of white supremacy. For white folks, we must allow it to transform us and flow into action, and for those of us with wealth and class privilege, now is the time to move money in recognition that our wealth is, and has always been, built at the expense of Black lives, wellness and freedom.
Art by @EcowithEm_
Economic Solidarity in the Time of Coronavirus - 3.16.20
For those of us for whom money is not another source of worry in these times, let's send some the way of those who are facing loss of work / healthcare / hunger / eviction. I’m supporting POOR Magazine and their crucial and ongoing work supporting unhoused folks in the San Francisco Bay Area.
Logo courtesy of Ekvn Yefolecv Maskoke Ecovillage
How to move your money for social justice - 11.4.19
What’s inspiring me this month: The Ekvn-Yefolecv Maskoke Ecovillage is an intentional community of indigenous people returning to their homelands in Alabama, reviving their language with a full immersion school, living in tiny houses with off-grid renewables, income sharing, raising buffalo, restoring sturgeon and growing regenerative foods from traditional seed.
Photo by Norm Sands, February 2019, Berkeley, CA — that’s me on the far left.
A Newsletter on Money + Movements - 9.9.19
As I write, the Hawaiian people are standing to protect their sacred mountain Mauna Kea from desecration through construction of a thirty-meter telescope, funded by philanthropic dollars from the United States. You can stand with them by donating to the Mauna Kea Defense Fund.