The revolution will be Eastie-vized

The Globe has a piece today on Gene Sharp, the writer and director of the Albert Einstein Institution -- the small clearinghouse of non-violent revolutionary ideas and publications that is located in Sharp's house here in East Boston.

The story focuses on the role that Sharp's ideas, and those of other American scholars, have played in the popular uprisings that have taken place in Iran in the wake of that country's stolen presidential election. Sharp, 81, has a PhD from Oxford and is a professor emeritus at UMass/Dartmouth. He also played a key role in some of the Eastern European revolutions in the early 2000s.

I've made reference to Sharp on this blog a couple of times, most notably with a small entry back in 2007.

"We are stardust..."

Woodstock wasn't the first music festival and it wasn't the last, but it is the event that we constantly reference to sum up an era, an ethos and a generation. Forty years ago this weekend some half-million people gathered on Max Yasgur's farm in Bethel, NY, and the world took notice.

It's easy to dismiss the concert as a logistical failure or a wasteful indulgence by a bunch of foolish middle-class kids -- and while elements of those interpretations cannot be completely ignored, the "3 Days of Peace & Music" that Woodstock promised succeeded on several levels. The world expanded musically, culturally and politically in the 1960s and -- though I was too young and completely unaware at the time -- I've had my world view shaped by that turbulent and iconic decade.

I'd like to think that, had I been older (I was 6), I would have found a way to go to Woodstock, but regardless, the idea that the status quo does not have to be accepted, that people can change the world and that art is at the essence of life have always resonated with me, and though these sentiments didn't originate in the fields, tents and mud of Bethel, they were lifted up that weekend in 1969.

Knowing "the other"

During Sunday afternoon's torrential thunderstorms I sought shelter at several points in my journey from the Government Center T stop to a cafe in the North End. Crazy as it seems, it took me 90 minutes or so to cover that distance, as it was pouring most of that time and I had my laptop with me, which I couldn't allow to get wet.

At one point I was next to a young man with funky eyeglasses who is visiting Boston for a few days and attends college in Oregon. He is a Saudi, and we had a nice conversation for 15 minutes about the perceptions that each of our peoples has about the other. Having been in the US now for nearly two years, the young man -- whose name I never got -- said that he has had a couple of negative comments directed toward him, but the overwhelming majority of Americans have been friendly and he has a positive view of the US.

It was good to hear his thoughts, but what, I think, is important to note as well is that he didn't have those opinions before he got here. The picture in his head growing up in Saudi Arabia was based on what he'd heard from people and seen in the media, and it wasn't all positive. Knowledge, truth and real-world experience have made all the difference. Whether one grows up in the Muslim world or China or El Salvador or Peoria -- ignorance, lies and xenophobia breed hatred.

I read a story years ago about the Troubles in Northern Ireland where a reporter walked into a grammar school -- I can't remember if it was Catholic or Protestant -- and inside the building it said: "If you were born where they were born and you were taught what they were taught you would believe what they believe." Think about it. If, in the long years and decades of history, one of your forefathers or foremothers had taken a turn in one of their travels, you could be a Muslim living in, perhaps, the Middle East. What would you think of America then?