My mole, shared with three
generations of women,
I hope to pass on.
Showing posts with label grad school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grad school. Show all posts
Sunday, 15 July 2012
A Love [Haiku] to My Body
If you regularly visit my blog you know that body is something I often write about, thanks to a course I took in grad school: 'Feminist Theory - Writing the Body.' Yesterday Rachel Held Evans shared 'A Love Letter to my Body [in Haiku]', her contribution to the SheLoves synchroblog, A Love Letter to My Body. For my contribution I've written a haiku about the mole above my upper left lip that I share with my maternal great-grandmother, grandmother, and mother. I've written a poem about it before, but I composed this haiku just for this occasion. I hope you'll join in the love!
Tuesday, 5 June 2012
Christ as Feminist Leader
It's 'One in Christ: Mutuality Week' on Rachel Held Evans' blog and she's challenging other bloggers to discuss similar issues. A friend and fellow blogger contributed beautifully on her blog, and many others have taken the challenge. I'm also enjoying Julie Clawson's series on Discovering Christian Feminism. Though I'm still stumbling around with my own Christian feminism, trying to find the words for my convictions, I thought I'd share excerpts from a paper I wrote while taking a Christianity and Feminism course this past winter. This course only served to get my feet wet in the teachings and interpretations of Christian feminism, but I hope this will contribute in some (small) way to this fabulous discussion going on in the blogosphere.
‘Following Christ’ requires concrete, specific action, not merely adherence to the tenets of a given religious organization. Rosemary Radford Ruether declares that we must see Christ as a “liberator, not in the spiritual sense but in real terms in the political and social realm” (“Introductions” 33). His own ministry could be interpreted as a socio-political movement that Christians must continue in our own time. Leondard Swidler asserts that Jesus is a feminist, “a person who is in favor of, and promotes, the equality of women with men, who advocates and practices treating women primarily as human persons (as men are so treated) and willingly contravenes social customs in so acting” (17). I would like to take Swidler’s definition even further to assert that Jesus was a feminist, not only in his advocacy of women, but in his advocacy of the equality of all peoples. In this way, I argue that Christ embodies “Womanism” in his teachings and actions on earth.
Womanist theology, as defined by Linda Moody, emphasizes the “interconnectedness of the human race,” and “does not allow the categories of sexism, classism, and racism to become separated” (qtd. in Johnson 198). Christ came to earth as a model to God’s children of “full humanity,” and more specifically what it means to be a follower of God (Swidler 42). For much of his life on earth he spent his time not with the lawmakers and rulers, but with the oppressed, sick, and poor, praising the “lowly and outcast for responding to his message while the reigning authorities stay encapsulated in their systems of power” (Isherwood 34). Much of his time with the poor and oppressed he lifted them up, healed them, and assured them that all are seen as equals in the eyes of God. When Jesus teaches the Beatitudes his first blessing is to the “poor, for yours is the kingdom of God [...those who] hunger now [...] will be satisfied” (Luke 6:20-21). He preaches, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me” (Matt 19:21). These examples from Scripture make a call for Christians to become humbled and follow Christ, a calling for all peoples to be viewed and treated equally in the eyes of God.
Image of God
Unfortunately, certain Christian interpretations have equated the ‘image of God’ with men; Christ came bearing the outward physical appearance of a man, so many have argued that men are the superior sex. Mary Daly explains, “the underlying assumption in the minds of theologians down through the centuries has been that the divinity could not have deigned to become incarnate in the ‘inferior’ sex, and the ‘fact’ that ‘he’ did not do so reinforces the belief in a masculine superiority” (59). However, I argue that perhaps man needed a more explicit example of what a follower of God should be, perhaps needing more guidance in the area of humility, grace, and mercy, traits that have been traditionally associated with women and the feminine.
The Faithfulness of Women in Jesus' Time
When we look at the teachings of Christ, many times he praises women for their faithfulness, and reprimands men for their selfish actions. This is exemplified when Jesus visits a doubtful Pharisee in his home. When a woman who had lived a sinful life in that town learns that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, she brought an alabaster jar of perfume, and as she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them. (Luke 7:36-38). This sinful woman shows unbelievable faith in Christ, humbling herself at his feet, while Simon questions him and says, “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is – that she is a sinner” (7:39). Jesus tells him that this woman’s faith is what saves her, and that she is forgiven all her sins, “go in peace” (7:50).
In stark contrast to the faith shown by this woman, the disciples doubt Christ when they are at sea, waking him to tell of the raging storm. Calmly, Jesus asks them, “Where is your faith?” (8:25). Another example of a woman’s strong faith is when the sick woman touches Christ in the crowd and is healed. She shares Christ’s instant miracle, to which He replies, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace” (8:48). In each of these examples, women are faithful followers of Christ, while men constantly question Him. Perhaps Christ’s male appearance is for the sake of these unfaithful, unbelieving men; he is a more obvious model for them to follow since women already have much faith.
Another critique of the patriarchal emphasis on Jesus’ ‘male-ness’ focuses on Christ’s androgyny. According to this argument, despite his physical appearance, Christ took on both “so-called” feminine and masculine qualities, providing Christians with an androgynous model for living as “authentic humans, [rejecting] the false division of traits by sex” (Swidler 42). Christ depicted both “feminine” and “masculine” traits so that “we [as followers] will come to know, and love, our true, integrated self and will thereby be able to see our oneness with all our fellow humans (and most especially the oppressed), with all nature, and ultimately with the Source of all” (Swidler 42). Not only did he challenge the sexual norms, he rejected the societal norms of his time by teaching the “Good News” to all people – women (Luke 38-42), men (Matt 14:22-33), tax collectors (Luke 19:1-10), adulterers (John 8), prostitutes (Luke 8:1-3), criminals (Luke 23:32-43), and Gentiles (Matt 15: 21-25). Each group of people fills different roles in the social hierarchy created by man, and in each of these Biblical examples Christ does not adhere to cultural or societal rules. Instead, “[He] was committed to social and political action, the undoing of social evil and aspirations that are expressed in the Lord’s Prayer, where the kingdom is imaged on earth and signaled by the meeting of basis needs for all” (Isherwood 36). He challenged the social norms of his day, specifically, in the way that he treated women.
Breaking Down the Hierarchical Barriers
During his time, men were not permitted to speak to women, or touch them, because their sex was seen as “easily seduced, weak, and without much understanding” (qtd. in Swidler 21). But Christ explicitly defies these rules in his attitude toward and interaction with women. Christ spoke to women and “taught them the Gospel, the meaning of the Scriptures, and religious truths in general;” he appeared to women after healing the sick and rising from the dead, allowing them to bear witness and evangelize in his name (Swidler 23). He defied violations of the law in speaking directly to the Samaritan woman at the well, and touching the “unclean” woman, allowing them both to share with others the “Good News” that he was the Messiah (Swidler 26-7).
There are no instances when he treats women, the poor, or the oppressed as less than equal in God’s eyes. Instead, his most aggressive judgments are given to the merchants in the Tabernacle where he overturns the tables (Matt 21:12-14) and the Scribes and Pharisees who held themselves above others, rather than humbling themselves before God (Matt 23:13-33). Christianity, as a social movement, should see Christ’s actions as examples for the treatment of women, the oppressed, and the poor. As Christ reprimands the hypocritical Pharisees who view themselves as superior, he is explicitly teaching against man-made social hierarchy that was religiously sanctioned.
In his rejection of social hierarchy for the sake of welcoming a coming kingdom, Jesus’ teachings are directly compatible with the ideas of Womanism and feminism. As Isherwood points out, “The kingdom is not here even though there are moments when the transcendent becomes present in an anticipatory way through justice, liberation, and reconciliation” (36). Christ hopes he and his followers – all Christians – will transform the world, allowing glimpses of the kingdom to come through justice and liberation – not only in our practices and actions, but equally so in our understanding of the biblical texts. If Jesus serves as exemplary figure for the equal treatment of all, preaching the inclusivity of the kingdom of God, then perhaps we can consider a more egalitarian view of the Genesis story, specifically the interpretation of Eve in the Christian tradition.
Genesis - Someone to Blame: Eve and all women
Historically, Eve is depicted as the sole cause of humanity’s Fall. However, I argue, along with many feminist theologians, that the figure Eve represents, in certain ways, a positive image of woman. Phyllis Trible, suggests that “we reread [Genesis 2-3] to understand and to appropriate” the circumstances and particulars surrounding the Fall (74). Trible asserts that there was no distinction between the sexes until the split of the androgynous first human. The word “‘adham is a generic term for humankind,” and so ‘adham is basically androgynous: one creature incorporating two sexes” (74). Still, some argue that once the split was made between the sexes, the woman was the second creature created, making women subordinate. However, Trible points out that when considering order, “the last shall be first and the first shall be last” (Matt 20:16). If making this argument, woman is a more complex creature, “the last and truly the crown of all creatures,” created after animals and man (75). Though oftentimes misinterpreted Eve can be seen as the stronger of the two, because she “is both theologian and translator. She contemplates the tree, taking into account all the possibilities [...] By contrast, the man is a silent, passive, and bland recipient [...] His one act is belly oriented, and it is an act of quiescence, not of initiative” (79).
Eve’s strength need not be see as a superiority over Adam; I maintain that both man and woman rejected God and are therefore culpable. However, it does mean that Eve’s actions are much more complex than have been traditionally understood. Rather than embodying the wicked temptress who willfully listened to the serpent and therefore caused the downfall of all humanity, Eve displays an emotional complexity that should be valued. Similarly, it should be understood that man and woman were equally present and aware of their consequences in taking the fruit, for God spoke to both in the Garden of Eden saying, “You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, for when you eat of it you will surely die” (Genesis 2:16-7). Readers must not continue to misinterpret and find false evidence for the inferiority of women; rather, an understanding must emerge wherein Genesis reinforces the equality of men and women.
Genesis’ teaching of gender equality can be taken a step further to enforce the equality of all peoples with no room for hierarchy or inferiority. André LaCocque takes Trible’s defense of Genesis further than gender equality, and asserts that all humans are part of a “common universal spirit” and “one familial cell.” The socio-political movement of Christianity, therefore, should not work under any kind of hierarchy or “subsequent divisions” since these are perversions of God’s Creation. James H. Cone asserts that certain Christian movements - particularly Black Theology - is already living out the socio-political activism of Jesus. Black Theology was born from the civil rights movement, and became a movement within the Christian faith to right the wrongs of racial discrimination.
While Black Theology primarily focuses on equality of race, it provides a valuable example of a social and politically active Christian community that works for the equality of all. Similarly, the Christian faith movement should right the wrongs of all injustices, striving to “not only pray for justice but also become actively involved in establishing it” (46). Christians cannot actively establish justice within the stuffy, confined walls of church sanctuaries that close their doors to people who might not believe the same way; instead these ideas must be taken out into the world, becoming an “expression of hope and a tool of struggle for liberation” of all people who are treated unjustly (Cone 37).
Call to Action
The socio-political Christian movement must fight the “injustices” of viewing certain people as inferior and treating them as less than others as defined by the perverse social hierarchy of our culture. Christians need to create a dialogue among Christian family and friends on how best to create this socio-political movement seeking to eradicate injustices against people, critically asking whether the current organized religious system is even conducive to justice for all people, since the church, itself, is based on hierarchy. Furthermore, the Christian socio-political movement must break down the present social hierarchies – especially in the churches – and instead view and treat all peoples as equal children of God, all equal parts of humanity created in God’s image.
Christianity and Feminism: Christ as Feminist Leader, the Church as Socio-Political Movement
‘Following Christ’ requires concrete, specific action, not merely adherence to the tenets of a given religious organization. Rosemary Radford Ruether declares that we must see Christ as a “liberator, not in the spiritual sense but in real terms in the political and social realm” (“Introductions” 33). His own ministry could be interpreted as a socio-political movement that Christians must continue in our own time. Leondard Swidler asserts that Jesus is a feminist, “a person who is in favor of, and promotes, the equality of women with men, who advocates and practices treating women primarily as human persons (as men are so treated) and willingly contravenes social customs in so acting” (17). I would like to take Swidler’s definition even further to assert that Jesus was a feminist, not only in his advocacy of women, but in his advocacy of the equality of all peoples. In this way, I argue that Christ embodies “Womanism” in his teachings and actions on earth.
Womanist theology, as defined by Linda Moody, emphasizes the “interconnectedness of the human race,” and “does not allow the categories of sexism, classism, and racism to become separated” (qtd. in Johnson 198). Christ came to earth as a model to God’s children of “full humanity,” and more specifically what it means to be a follower of God (Swidler 42). For much of his life on earth he spent his time not with the lawmakers and rulers, but with the oppressed, sick, and poor, praising the “lowly and outcast for responding to his message while the reigning authorities stay encapsulated in their systems of power” (Isherwood 34). Much of his time with the poor and oppressed he lifted them up, healed them, and assured them that all are seen as equals in the eyes of God. When Jesus teaches the Beatitudes his first blessing is to the “poor, for yours is the kingdom of God [...those who] hunger now [...] will be satisfied” (Luke 6:20-21). He preaches, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me” (Matt 19:21). These examples from Scripture make a call for Christians to become humbled and follow Christ, a calling for all peoples to be viewed and treated equally in the eyes of God.
Image of God
Unfortunately, certain Christian interpretations have equated the ‘image of God’ with men; Christ came bearing the outward physical appearance of a man, so many have argued that men are the superior sex. Mary Daly explains, “the underlying assumption in the minds of theologians down through the centuries has been that the divinity could not have deigned to become incarnate in the ‘inferior’ sex, and the ‘fact’ that ‘he’ did not do so reinforces the belief in a masculine superiority” (59). However, I argue that perhaps man needed a more explicit example of what a follower of God should be, perhaps needing more guidance in the area of humility, grace, and mercy, traits that have been traditionally associated with women and the feminine.
The Faithfulness of Women in Jesus' Time
When we look at the teachings of Christ, many times he praises women for their faithfulness, and reprimands men for their selfish actions. This is exemplified when Jesus visits a doubtful Pharisee in his home. When a woman who had lived a sinful life in that town learns that Jesus was eating at the Pharisee’s house, she brought an alabaster jar of perfume, and as she stood behind him at his feet weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she wiped them with her hair, kissed them and poured perfume on them. (Luke 7:36-38). This sinful woman shows unbelievable faith in Christ, humbling herself at his feet, while Simon questions him and says, “If this man were a prophet, he would know who is touching him and what kind of woman she is – that she is a sinner” (7:39). Jesus tells him that this woman’s faith is what saves her, and that she is forgiven all her sins, “go in peace” (7:50).
In stark contrast to the faith shown by this woman, the disciples doubt Christ when they are at sea, waking him to tell of the raging storm. Calmly, Jesus asks them, “Where is your faith?” (8:25). Another example of a woman’s strong faith is when the sick woman touches Christ in the crowd and is healed. She shares Christ’s instant miracle, to which He replies, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace” (8:48). In each of these examples, women are faithful followers of Christ, while men constantly question Him. Perhaps Christ’s male appearance is for the sake of these unfaithful, unbelieving men; he is a more obvious model for them to follow since women already have much faith.
Another critique of the patriarchal emphasis on Jesus’ ‘male-ness’ focuses on Christ’s androgyny. According to this argument, despite his physical appearance, Christ took on both “so-called” feminine and masculine qualities, providing Christians with an androgynous model for living as “authentic humans, [rejecting] the false division of traits by sex” (Swidler 42). Christ depicted both “feminine” and “masculine” traits so that “we [as followers] will come to know, and love, our true, integrated self and will thereby be able to see our oneness with all our fellow humans (and most especially the oppressed), with all nature, and ultimately with the Source of all” (Swidler 42). Not only did he challenge the sexual norms, he rejected the societal norms of his time by teaching the “Good News” to all people – women (Luke 38-42), men (Matt 14:22-33), tax collectors (Luke 19:1-10), adulterers (John 8), prostitutes (Luke 8:1-3), criminals (Luke 23:32-43), and Gentiles (Matt 15: 21-25). Each group of people fills different roles in the social hierarchy created by man, and in each of these Biblical examples Christ does not adhere to cultural or societal rules. Instead, “[He] was committed to social and political action, the undoing of social evil and aspirations that are expressed in the Lord’s Prayer, where the kingdom is imaged on earth and signaled by the meeting of basis needs for all” (Isherwood 36). He challenged the social norms of his day, specifically, in the way that he treated women.
Breaking Down the Hierarchical Barriers
During his time, men were not permitted to speak to women, or touch them, because their sex was seen as “easily seduced, weak, and without much understanding” (qtd. in Swidler 21). But Christ explicitly defies these rules in his attitude toward and interaction with women. Christ spoke to women and “taught them the Gospel, the meaning of the Scriptures, and religious truths in general;” he appeared to women after healing the sick and rising from the dead, allowing them to bear witness and evangelize in his name (Swidler 23). He defied violations of the law in speaking directly to the Samaritan woman at the well, and touching the “unclean” woman, allowing them both to share with others the “Good News” that he was the Messiah (Swidler 26-7).
There are no instances when he treats women, the poor, or the oppressed as less than equal in God’s eyes. Instead, his most aggressive judgments are given to the merchants in the Tabernacle where he overturns the tables (Matt 21:12-14) and the Scribes and Pharisees who held themselves above others, rather than humbling themselves before God (Matt 23:13-33). Christianity, as a social movement, should see Christ’s actions as examples for the treatment of women, the oppressed, and the poor. As Christ reprimands the hypocritical Pharisees who view themselves as superior, he is explicitly teaching against man-made social hierarchy that was religiously sanctioned.
In his rejection of social hierarchy for the sake of welcoming a coming kingdom, Jesus’ teachings are directly compatible with the ideas of Womanism and feminism. As Isherwood points out, “The kingdom is not here even though there are moments when the transcendent becomes present in an anticipatory way through justice, liberation, and reconciliation” (36). Christ hopes he and his followers – all Christians – will transform the world, allowing glimpses of the kingdom to come through justice and liberation – not only in our practices and actions, but equally so in our understanding of the biblical texts. If Jesus serves as exemplary figure for the equal treatment of all, preaching the inclusivity of the kingdom of God, then perhaps we can consider a more egalitarian view of the Genesis story, specifically the interpretation of Eve in the Christian tradition.
Genesis - Someone to Blame: Eve and all women
Historically, Eve is depicted as the sole cause of humanity’s Fall. However, I argue, along with many feminist theologians, that the figure Eve represents, in certain ways, a positive image of woman. Phyllis Trible, suggests that “we reread [Genesis 2-3] to understand and to appropriate” the circumstances and particulars surrounding the Fall (74). Trible asserts that there was no distinction between the sexes until the split of the androgynous first human. The word “‘adham is a generic term for humankind,” and so ‘adham is basically androgynous: one creature incorporating two sexes” (74). Still, some argue that once the split was made between the sexes, the woman was the second creature created, making women subordinate. However, Trible points out that when considering order, “the last shall be first and the first shall be last” (Matt 20:16). If making this argument, woman is a more complex creature, “the last and truly the crown of all creatures,” created after animals and man (75). Though oftentimes misinterpreted Eve can be seen as the stronger of the two, because she “is both theologian and translator. She contemplates the tree, taking into account all the possibilities [...] By contrast, the man is a silent, passive, and bland recipient [...] His one act is belly oriented, and it is an act of quiescence, not of initiative” (79).
Eve’s strength need not be see as a superiority over Adam; I maintain that both man and woman rejected God and are therefore culpable. However, it does mean that Eve’s actions are much more complex than have been traditionally understood. Rather than embodying the wicked temptress who willfully listened to the serpent and therefore caused the downfall of all humanity, Eve displays an emotional complexity that should be valued. Similarly, it should be understood that man and woman were equally present and aware of their consequences in taking the fruit, for God spoke to both in the Garden of Eden saying, “You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, for when you eat of it you will surely die” (Genesis 2:16-7). Readers must not continue to misinterpret and find false evidence for the inferiority of women; rather, an understanding must emerge wherein Genesis reinforces the equality of men and women.
Genesis’ teaching of gender equality can be taken a step further to enforce the equality of all peoples with no room for hierarchy or inferiority. André LaCocque takes Trible’s defense of Genesis further than gender equality, and asserts that all humans are part of a “common universal spirit” and “one familial cell.” The socio-political movement of Christianity, therefore, should not work under any kind of hierarchy or “subsequent divisions” since these are perversions of God’s Creation. James H. Cone asserts that certain Christian movements - particularly Black Theology - is already living out the socio-political activism of Jesus. Black Theology was born from the civil rights movement, and became a movement within the Christian faith to right the wrongs of racial discrimination.
While Black Theology primarily focuses on equality of race, it provides a valuable example of a social and politically active Christian community that works for the equality of all. Similarly, the Christian faith movement should right the wrongs of all injustices, striving to “not only pray for justice but also become actively involved in establishing it” (46). Christians cannot actively establish justice within the stuffy, confined walls of church sanctuaries that close their doors to people who might not believe the same way; instead these ideas must be taken out into the world, becoming an “expression of hope and a tool of struggle for liberation” of all people who are treated unjustly (Cone 37).
Call to Action
The socio-political Christian movement must fight the “injustices” of viewing certain people as inferior and treating them as less than others as defined by the perverse social hierarchy of our culture. Christians need to create a dialogue among Christian family and friends on how best to create this socio-political movement seeking to eradicate injustices against people, critically asking whether the current organized religious system is even conducive to justice for all people, since the church, itself, is based on hierarchy. Furthermore, the Christian socio-political movement must break down the present social hierarchies – especially in the churches – and instead view and treat all peoples as equal children of God, all equal parts of humanity created in God’s image.
Wednesday, 30 May 2012
A Different Kind of Memorial Day: Honoring Survivors of the 'Invisible War'
Before I begin this post, (which was adapted from a reading response for one of my classes) I want to preface it by saying that I'm not against American nationalism; rather, I'm against unquestioning, unwavering nationalism. The post that follows is meant to honor a minority of soldiers who are forgotten and not honored, particularly on Memorial Day...
This week, in our final class of Feminist Theory, we read Cynthia Enloe’s “When Soldiers Rape*.” It was certainly an interesting read, especially considering Memorial Day weekend, when no matter where you go you’ll see signs displaying red, white, and blue, the gloriously bold emblem of the eagle, the reminders to “Thank a Soldier” or “Remember Those Who’ve Fallen.” You see little girls dressed in bandana dresses of red, white, and blue, and hair bows with shining white stars – I had a similar outfit when I was a little girl. People in my family and my husband's family have served in the military and I grew up celebrating Memorial Day, thinking of my family members and their service to this country.
However, in recent years I’ve grown uncomfortable with the growing unwavering nationalism in this country, a nationalism without critical questioning of this nation’s actions. Particularly in the Christian community, and the nationalism in the Church: the American flag flown higher than the Christian flag, the pledge to the American flag in Bible School (weirdly enough done before the pledge to the Christian flag and the Bible). I've attended numerous church services and heard people include a grateful tribute to those who’ve fallen for our country in their prayers, comparing it to the blood shed by our Savior for our sins. For me, there’s no greater blasphemy than to compare the two – they are not at all comparable in my mind. Yes, we should honor those who've gone before us, but they did not die for our salvation. I see danger in this kind of language, and in these extremely militaristic practices related so closely to the teachings of the Bible. I believe there is a great danger in the kind of attitude of “serving God and country,” when as Christians we should only serve one master (Matthew 6:24).
What I think is so dangerous about this emboldened nationalism, whether considering the Church or not, is its lack of critical questioning and obedient support. If one decides s/he is against war, people automatically believe him/her to be against soldiers and America. However, people display proud banners and support for their troops, not stopping to consider the negatives of war, soldiers, and the teachings/methods of the military itself. Oftentimes as people enjoy their Memorial Day weekends grilling out, wearing their Old Navy flag t-shirts (I had several of these growing up too) thanking soldiers for their dutiful service, they don’t stop to remember what Enloe discusses: MILITARIZED RAPE, which is becoming more and more prevalent each year.
We need to make another holiday, another Memorial Day if you will, to remember all those victims and survivors of militarized rape, “rape perpetrated by men as soldiers . . . experienced by women in a variety of forms” (508). Particularly, the kinds of “rapes of women in wartime by civilian men of their same ethnic or national community” (509). But currently, there is no special day set aside to consider the negative, ugly side of the military, war, and soldiers, what Enloe calls “misogyny nurtured by and licensed by the militarized climate” (509).
Some might argue this is but a small issue, (in fact I think many would say that) but according to NPR, “a 2003 survey of women using the Veterans Administration health care system [revealed] that 28 percent [of female soldiers] experienced at least one sexual assault during military service**” (Hillard). Indeed, a new documentary is being released soon called The Invisible War, which serves to detail the growing occurrence of female soldiers raped by their fellow “brothers-in-arms.” Even though these small steps might be taken toward publicizing these atrocities, for the most part, as Enloe points out “the women who suffer rape in wartime usually remain faceless...and they are put on the list of war damage...an indistinguishable part of poisonous wartime stew called ‘lootpillageandrape’ [loot pillage and rape]” (508). For the most part these rapes are forgotten.
I would argue that this different kind of Memorial Day would need to have a much different meaning than the one we have named to celebrate and remember those who ‘serve our country and those who have fallen to defend us.’ As Enloe notes, “Shana Swiss and Joan Giller...warn activists who are genuinely concerned about wartime rape not to let their own concern turn into objectification of women as victims” (510). Instead, it might be better to call it “A Day of Empowerment,” a day to remember those women who have “come to feel empowered enough to report when they have been raped,” a day to hope for more empowerment for those who haven’t yet reported it (510).
This country needs to stand up against militarized rape, taking more actions to prevent and punish these atrocities, and develop more critical questioning rather than unwavering nationalism. We need a different kind of Memorial Day for these soldiers who've experienced Military Sexual Trauma (MST) - A Day of Empowerment.
*Enloe, Cynthia. "When Soldiers Rape." Feminist Theory: A Reader. Ed. Wendy K. Kolmar and Francis Bartkowski, 2010. Print. 508-16.
**Hillard, Gloria. “Scars of War Run Deep for Many Female Vets.” NPR. 4 Oct 2007. Web. 28 May 2012.
This week, in our final class of Feminist Theory, we read Cynthia Enloe’s “When Soldiers Rape*.” It was certainly an interesting read, especially considering Memorial Day weekend, when no matter where you go you’ll see signs displaying red, white, and blue, the gloriously bold emblem of the eagle, the reminders to “Thank a Soldier” or “Remember Those Who’ve Fallen.” You see little girls dressed in bandana dresses of red, white, and blue, and hair bows with shining white stars – I had a similar outfit when I was a little girl. People in my family and my husband's family have served in the military and I grew up celebrating Memorial Day, thinking of my family members and their service to this country.
However, in recent years I’ve grown uncomfortable with the growing unwavering nationalism in this country, a nationalism without critical questioning of this nation’s actions. Particularly in the Christian community, and the nationalism in the Church: the American flag flown higher than the Christian flag, the pledge to the American flag in Bible School (weirdly enough done before the pledge to the Christian flag and the Bible). I've attended numerous church services and heard people include a grateful tribute to those who’ve fallen for our country in their prayers, comparing it to the blood shed by our Savior for our sins. For me, there’s no greater blasphemy than to compare the two – they are not at all comparable in my mind. Yes, we should honor those who've gone before us, but they did not die for our salvation. I see danger in this kind of language, and in these extremely militaristic practices related so closely to the teachings of the Bible. I believe there is a great danger in the kind of attitude of “serving God and country,” when as Christians we should only serve one master (Matthew 6:24).
What I think is so dangerous about this emboldened nationalism, whether considering the Church or not, is its lack of critical questioning and obedient support. If one decides s/he is against war, people automatically believe him/her to be against soldiers and America. However, people display proud banners and support for their troops, not stopping to consider the negatives of war, soldiers, and the teachings/methods of the military itself. Oftentimes as people enjoy their Memorial Day weekends grilling out, wearing their Old Navy flag t-shirts (I had several of these growing up too) thanking soldiers for their dutiful service, they don’t stop to remember what Enloe discusses: MILITARIZED RAPE, which is becoming more and more prevalent each year.
We need to make another holiday, another Memorial Day if you will, to remember all those victims and survivors of militarized rape, “rape perpetrated by men as soldiers . . . experienced by women in a variety of forms” (508). Particularly, the kinds of “rapes of women in wartime by civilian men of their same ethnic or national community” (509). But currently, there is no special day set aside to consider the negative, ugly side of the military, war, and soldiers, what Enloe calls “misogyny nurtured by and licensed by the militarized climate” (509).
Some might argue this is but a small issue, (in fact I think many would say that) but according to NPR, “a 2003 survey of women using the Veterans Administration health care system [revealed] that 28 percent [of female soldiers] experienced at least one sexual assault during military service**” (Hillard). Indeed, a new documentary is being released soon called The Invisible War, which serves to detail the growing occurrence of female soldiers raped by their fellow “brothers-in-arms.” Even though these small steps might be taken toward publicizing these atrocities, for the most part, as Enloe points out “the women who suffer rape in wartime usually remain faceless...and they are put on the list of war damage...an indistinguishable part of poisonous wartime stew called ‘lootpillageandrape’ [loot pillage and rape]” (508). For the most part these rapes are forgotten.
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| Source |
This country needs to stand up against militarized rape, taking more actions to prevent and punish these atrocities, and develop more critical questioning rather than unwavering nationalism. We need a different kind of Memorial Day for these soldiers who've experienced Military Sexual Trauma (MST) - A Day of Empowerment.
*Enloe, Cynthia. "When Soldiers Rape." Feminist Theory: A Reader. Ed. Wendy K. Kolmar and Francis Bartkowski, 2010. Print. 508-16.
**Hillard, Gloria. “Scars of War Run Deep for Many Female Vets.” NPR. 4 Oct 2007. Web. 28 May 2012.
Wednesday, 16 May 2012
Super Tuesday
Yesterday was pretty amazing. . .
First, I got up early and headed to Kroger to purchase a small veggie tray and some honey buns (I realize now what an odd pairing this is). Then I met up with one of my classmates (K) from my Feminist Theory course. Together we drove to a local women's shelter/family violence prevention center to participate in a small service-project we put together for our Women's Studies class.
Although we were both very excited (because we would be conducting a creative exploration session, which included writing, creating art, listening/reading poetry) neither of us was very nervous. I told K that I was afraid we wouldn't be able to do the project after all, thinking we were both intuitively suspecting an unexpected cancellation (I've learned things can fall through last minute with non-profits). When we found the center I finally felt a wave of nervousness because there were gates and a call box for us to "state our names and reason for visiting." Inside the gates, we found a parking spot and walked to the visitors' entrance. Inside, it resembled a dentist's office: chairs and small end tables with magazines and plastic toys and games for children. We were met with yet another call button, and a friendly-looking woman emerged from behind the window.
She led us to the small room where we would do our activities with the women. It was perhaps the first time either of us had really thought the women would already be there; they weren't in the room, but they were waking up in the rooms around us, rooms where they were staying temporarily.
We spread out the art supplies (crayons, markers, glitter pens, drawing paper) and small notebooks and pens, putting the snacks on a side table. In a few minutes the first young woman (appeared to be in her early 20s) entered the room wearing lounge pants, a sweatshirt, and carrying her purse. Her eyes lit up when she saw the supplies on the table. She asked if we were going to be doing art; K and I shared a smile and told her we were indeed going to be doing some art - we were hoping to have a great time with them! She seemed excited and told us most of the visitors just sat and talked to them and they answered questions and such. We told her we hoped to have some fun with them today, and that K and I would both be participating in all the activities too, drawing and writing along with them.
More women entered the room and we introduced ourselves to one another (most of the women appeared to be in their 20s and 30s, one woman was pregnant, and we later learned that all of them had children - they lovingly shared photos of their children with us!). In all we had six women in our little class, a perfectly intimate gathering.
We started by tossing a ball of yarn around and sharing our names and our favorite things to do. In the end, we each held a piece of the yarn, connected by the web it made around the table. Then, K led us in a creative visualization, taking us through "the house of our senses," traveling through the rooms of sight, smell, taste, touch, and smell.
Next, I read a poem called "The Invitation" aloud and then we passed it around so the women could choose a stanza that spoke to them. They spent the next half hour creating a piece of art from the poem, using the words or images that spoke to them. What was so neat about this activity was that one of the workers at the center said they could have a smoke/bathroom break and only one woman got up to use the restroom. They said they'd rather stay there coloring and drawing!
After the break, we all wrote a letter about a day five years into the future, addressing it to either (1) our future selves or (2) someone else who would be proud of our accomplishments We wrote about our ideal day, what we would be doing, who we would be with, why it would be "ideal," and what we would have to overcome to be there. The women really seemed to enjoy this activity and a couple shared their writing with us. They all said they would like to continue writing because they thought it was comforting and made them feel hopeful. They each left with their notebooks and some art supplies.
After the session was over, K and I stuck around talking to some of the women; one woman let me hold her baby! They said we should come back and visit them, and I know we're both interested in returning sometime soon, even if just to visit. This experience was so unbelievable to me, and I can't believe how at ease I felt there. Normally I think I would have felt anxious or nervous, but I felt so comfortable spending time with the women there.
When K and I returned to the car, we tried to process the experience together, considering how we felt and how it affected us. We both had other things to go to that day so we were forced to move on quickly, but that experience will stay with me forever. I hope we can go back again sometime soon!
Less than two hours after our session was over I had my creative nonfiction class to attend at school. It wasn't an ordinary class, however - Joyce Dyer, a writer who resides in Akron, OH was visiting our class. We read some of her stories for homework so I was excited to hear her talk to us about the reflective voice. What I didn't know was that she identifies as an Appalachian because her parents moved to northern Appalachia when she was little and she grew up in a mining family. When I got to class, one of my classmates handed me a book called, Bloodroot: Reflections on Place By Appalachian Women Writers, edited by Joyce Dyer. I was so excited!! My professor had gotten it for me!
I sat and listened with the rest of the class as Dyer talked to us about reflective voice, showing us examples from other CNF writers, anxiously anticipating when I could go up and talk to her after class. When class was over, I walked up to the front and told her I enjoyed her talk and that I was wondering if she could sign my book. My classmate and professor had already told her about me (!) and so she asked me questions about what part of Appalachia I was from (pronouncing the same way we do in southern Appalachia) and signing my book. She also told me about an Appalachian Writers Workshop in Kentucky. If I had thought of it and known ahead of time I would've mentioned that I've studied with Rita Quillen, an Appalachian poet included in Bloodroot. We said our goodbyes and I carried my signed book, admiring it in the hall.
I knew when I woke up Tuesday that my planner was packed full of stuff to do. But I didn't know what a great day it would be. Enough of that. . . here are some pictures!
First, I got up early and headed to Kroger to purchase a small veggie tray and some honey buns (I realize now what an odd pairing this is). Then I met up with one of my classmates (K) from my Feminist Theory course. Together we drove to a local women's shelter/family violence prevention center to participate in a small service-project we put together for our Women's Studies class.
Although we were both very excited (because we would be conducting a creative exploration session, which included writing, creating art, listening/reading poetry) neither of us was very nervous. I told K that I was afraid we wouldn't be able to do the project after all, thinking we were both intuitively suspecting an unexpected cancellation (I've learned things can fall through last minute with non-profits). When we found the center I finally felt a wave of nervousness because there were gates and a call box for us to "state our names and reason for visiting." Inside the gates, we found a parking spot and walked to the visitors' entrance. Inside, it resembled a dentist's office: chairs and small end tables with magazines and plastic toys and games for children. We were met with yet another call button, and a friendly-looking woman emerged from behind the window.
She led us to the small room where we would do our activities with the women. It was perhaps the first time either of us had really thought the women would already be there; they weren't in the room, but they were waking up in the rooms around us, rooms where they were staying temporarily.
We spread out the art supplies (crayons, markers, glitter pens, drawing paper) and small notebooks and pens, putting the snacks on a side table. In a few minutes the first young woman (appeared to be in her early 20s) entered the room wearing lounge pants, a sweatshirt, and carrying her purse. Her eyes lit up when she saw the supplies on the table. She asked if we were going to be doing art; K and I shared a smile and told her we were indeed going to be doing some art - we were hoping to have a great time with them! She seemed excited and told us most of the visitors just sat and talked to them and they answered questions and such. We told her we hoped to have some fun with them today, and that K and I would both be participating in all the activities too, drawing and writing along with them.
More women entered the room and we introduced ourselves to one another (most of the women appeared to be in their 20s and 30s, one woman was pregnant, and we later learned that all of them had children - they lovingly shared photos of their children with us!). In all we had six women in our little class, a perfectly intimate gathering.
We started by tossing a ball of yarn around and sharing our names and our favorite things to do. In the end, we each held a piece of the yarn, connected by the web it made around the table. Then, K led us in a creative visualization, taking us through "the house of our senses," traveling through the rooms of sight, smell, taste, touch, and smell.
Next, I read a poem called "The Invitation" aloud and then we passed it around so the women could choose a stanza that spoke to them. They spent the next half hour creating a piece of art from the poem, using the words or images that spoke to them. What was so neat about this activity was that one of the workers at the center said they could have a smoke/bathroom break and only one woman got up to use the restroom. They said they'd rather stay there coloring and drawing!
After the break, we all wrote a letter about a day five years into the future, addressing it to either (1) our future selves or (2) someone else who would be proud of our accomplishments We wrote about our ideal day, what we would be doing, who we would be with, why it would be "ideal," and what we would have to overcome to be there. The women really seemed to enjoy this activity and a couple shared their writing with us. They all said they would like to continue writing because they thought it was comforting and made them feel hopeful. They each left with their notebooks and some art supplies.
After the session was over, K and I stuck around talking to some of the women; one woman let me hold her baby! They said we should come back and visit them, and I know we're both interested in returning sometime soon, even if just to visit. This experience was so unbelievable to me, and I can't believe how at ease I felt there. Normally I think I would have felt anxious or nervous, but I felt so comfortable spending time with the women there.
When K and I returned to the car, we tried to process the experience together, considering how we felt and how it affected us. We both had other things to go to that day so we were forced to move on quickly, but that experience will stay with me forever. I hope we can go back again sometime soon!
Less than two hours after our session was over I had my creative nonfiction class to attend at school. It wasn't an ordinary class, however - Joyce Dyer, a writer who resides in Akron, OH was visiting our class. We read some of her stories for homework so I was excited to hear her talk to us about the reflective voice. What I didn't know was that she identifies as an Appalachian because her parents moved to northern Appalachia when she was little and she grew up in a mining family. When I got to class, one of my classmates handed me a book called, Bloodroot: Reflections on Place By Appalachian Women Writers, edited by Joyce Dyer. I was so excited!! My professor had gotten it for me!
I sat and listened with the rest of the class as Dyer talked to us about reflective voice, showing us examples from other CNF writers, anxiously anticipating when I could go up and talk to her after class. When class was over, I walked up to the front and told her I enjoyed her talk and that I was wondering if she could sign my book. My classmate and professor had already told her about me (!) and so she asked me questions about what part of Appalachia I was from (pronouncing the same way we do in southern Appalachia) and signing my book. She also told me about an Appalachian Writers Workshop in Kentucky. If I had thought of it and known ahead of time I would've mentioned that I've studied with Rita Quillen, an Appalachian poet included in Bloodroot. We said our goodbyes and I carried my signed book, admiring it in the hall.
I knew when I woke up Tuesday that my planner was packed full of stuff to do. But I didn't know what a great day it would be. Enough of that. . . here are some pictures!
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| Our art supplies! |
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| Showing off their drawings :) |
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| My "drawing" of words that spoke to me in the poem |
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| All their beautiful artwork |
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| Bloodroot. . . I just love the cover! |
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| She signed, "I'm so glad I met a fellow Appalachian. I hope to see you again." |
Saturday, 12 May 2012
"Confronted by Someone Else's Story"
I'm pulling from the archive today, republishing an old post from last year because of its relevancy. Yesterday's post, "Thoughts on Amendment One and Christians," referenced Rachel Held Evans' blog post about the culture war being waged by groups of Christians against gay marriage and LGBT concerns. Today, her post was equally powerful (if not more so), contemplating what it means that so many of us as Christians agree that we're ready to move from "waging war to washing feet," to praying for guidance and healing. And even though others close to us may disapprove of us taking part in this conversation (at all), we need to understand that we're not alone in our individual journeys (wherever that may be on the spectrum). Indeed, I think it's important that we meet each other on these journeys and learn to have loving conversations, rather than hateful confrontations.
We need to listen to one another’s stories. Time and time again, I talk to Christians whose experiences, like mine, go something like this:
“I used to think that homosexuality was a sinful, promiscuous lifestyle that people chose in rebellion to God, and that Christians need to rally against the ‘gay agenda’ through legislative action. Then, my best friend (or brother or sister or son or daughter or high school buddy or neighbor or mentor) came out, and everything changed. Their story didn’t fit the stereotype. It didn’t fit into my previous categories. Their story made me see that things aren’t that simple, and that the ‘war’ between Christianity and homosexuality represents a false dichotomy that is incredibly painful and destructive to Christians with same-sex attractions. After that, I could no longer support the sort of rhetoric and actions that only serve to make this world a more hostile and hopeless place to the ones I loved. I kept thinking about all the depression, all the suicides, all the secrets. I just can’t support a culture that, perhaps inadvertently, fosters that.”
Everything changes when you are confronted with someone else’s story (Source).
As I commented on Evans' blog, "I like that you've emphasized the importance of listening to others' stories. I am a 23-year-old Christian who grew up southern Baptist, raised to think homosexuality is a sin. Then I went to college and met gay and lesbian individuals whom I grew to love, listening to their stories and becoming 'torn' on the issue [she references a book called Torn: Rescuing the Gospel from Gay- vs. Christians Debate]. Then I went to grad school and met (and read) even more gay and lesbian individuals, who were also Christians. I began reading Sara Miles' Take This Bread with my husband, reading Jennifer Finney Boylan's She's Not There, (perhaps what changed my mind more than anything), going to a talk by Jennifer Knapp (a lesbian Christian singer/songwriter), having conversations with other Christians about the 'issue,' and I've now evolved to call myself a Christian ally, supporting the LGBT community and fighting against the kind of prejudice and hatred you discussed in your last post. I'm very much looking forward to following what unfolds here, listening to more stories, and learning better ways to deal with situations like you faced with your husband (I deal with this. . . and I oftentimes have to 'hide' my own opinions just to keep the peace). I know there are so many of us who still do this, sadly - faced with situations where the LGBT community is being attacked without any hope for defense. Thank you for sharing and letting us all know we're not alone!"
Again, I agree with Evans that the stories are what need to be shared, because, as she says, "Everything changes when you are confronted with someone else’s story." What follows is a post I wrote a year ago while taking Feminist Memoir. I haven't changed anything because I think it's interesting (for myself at least) to see my growth and change even in a year's time, but also how this experience still shapes my worldview as a Christian. . .*would love to hear more from readers - what stories do you have to share?
She married and had two boys before, at the age of 40, beginning the process of transitioning into a female body...and her heterosexual wife is still with her today. Her wife (named "Grace" in her book) is with her through every step of the process, and although there are times of utter frustration and heartache, they share a life together, raising two boys who equally love their "Maddie" (a term they coined as young boys, combining "mommy" and "daddy"). If their family is not a prime example of love, I'm not sure what is. And what touched me the most about her lecture was when she pointed out that many people may feel that their relationship is "weird," but how many other relationships/marriages are filled with abuse and neglect, etc.? Yet Jennifer and Grace's love is unconditional, which is more than a lot of people can say for their own relationships (I wish I could remember exactly how she said it, because it was much more eloquent than that).
Today's post emphasized the importance of stories. Evans writes,
We need to listen to one another’s stories. Time and time again, I talk to Christians whose experiences, like mine, go something like this:
“I used to think that homosexuality was a sinful, promiscuous lifestyle that people chose in rebellion to God, and that Christians need to rally against the ‘gay agenda’ through legislative action. Then, my best friend (or brother or sister or son or daughter or high school buddy or neighbor or mentor) came out, and everything changed. Their story didn’t fit the stereotype. It didn’t fit into my previous categories. Their story made me see that things aren’t that simple, and that the ‘war’ between Christianity and homosexuality represents a false dichotomy that is incredibly painful and destructive to Christians with same-sex attractions. After that, I could no longer support the sort of rhetoric and actions that only serve to make this world a more hostile and hopeless place to the ones I loved. I kept thinking about all the depression, all the suicides, all the secrets. I just can’t support a culture that, perhaps inadvertently, fosters that.”
Everything changes when you are confronted with someone else’s story (Source).
As I commented on Evans' blog, "I like that you've emphasized the importance of listening to others' stories. I am a 23-year-old Christian who grew up southern Baptist, raised to think homosexuality is a sin. Then I went to college and met gay and lesbian individuals whom I grew to love, listening to their stories and becoming 'torn' on the issue [she references a book called Torn: Rescuing the Gospel from Gay- vs. Christians Debate]. Then I went to grad school and met (and read) even more gay and lesbian individuals, who were also Christians. I began reading Sara Miles' Take This Bread with my husband, reading Jennifer Finney Boylan's She's Not There, (perhaps what changed my mind more than anything), going to a talk by Jennifer Knapp (a lesbian Christian singer/songwriter), having conversations with other Christians about the 'issue,' and I've now evolved to call myself a Christian ally, supporting the LGBT community and fighting against the kind of prejudice and hatred you discussed in your last post. I'm very much looking forward to following what unfolds here, listening to more stories, and learning better ways to deal with situations like you faced with your husband (I deal with this. . . and I oftentimes have to 'hide' my own opinions just to keep the peace). I know there are so many of us who still do this, sadly - faced with situations where the LGBT community is being attacked without any hope for defense. Thank you for sharing and letting us all know we're not alone!"
Again, I agree with Evans that the stories are what need to be shared, because, as she says, "Everything changes when you are confronted with someone else’s story." What follows is a post I wrote a year ago while taking Feminist Memoir. I haven't changed anything because I think it's interesting (for myself at least) to see my growth and change even in a year's time, but also how this experience still shapes my worldview as a Christian. . .*would love to hear more from readers - what stories do you have to share?
This past week was both challenging and eye-opening. Challenging, because it had come time to begin the final book for our Feminist Memoir class, and it dealt with transgender issues. I'll admit I was close-minded about beginning my reading, and most of this can be blamed on my ignorance of the issue. I read Jennifer (formerly James) Finney Boylan's She's Not There: A Life in Two Genders and quite literally, couldn't put it down. I slowly learned what it means to be transgender, and for her specifically, it meant not ever truly feeling like she belonged in her own skin. She would watch her mother iron her father's shirts, becoming frustrated when her mother would point out that she would wear shirts like these one day. She was a young girl, trapped in a male body for much of her life, and remembers feeling this way at the early age of three.
This week was eye-opening because I learned so much about transgender issues through the story of one person. I got to meet her in person on Thursday, sharing pizza and discussion, and then listening to her lecture later that day. What amazes me the most about her story is that she lived most her life as a man haunted by the wish to be a woman.
She married and had two boys before, at the age of 40, beginning the process of transitioning into a female body...and her heterosexual wife is still with her today. Her wife (named "Grace" in her book) is with her through every step of the process, and although there are times of utter frustration and heartache, they share a life together, raising two boys who equally love their "Maddie" (a term they coined as young boys, combining "mommy" and "daddy"). If their family is not a prime example of love, I'm not sure what is. And what touched me the most about her lecture was when she pointed out that many people may feel that their relationship is "weird," but how many other relationships/marriages are filled with abuse and neglect, etc.? Yet Jennifer and Grace's love is unconditional, which is more than a lot of people can say for their own relationships (I wish I could remember exactly how she said it, because it was much more eloquent than that).
So, I wanted to share this experience with you - my own "transition," if you will - and suggest that when you go into something close-minded, you may very well come out on the other side changed, with wide eyes open, as I have this week. It's extremely easy to judge because of ignorance and misunderstanding, but as Jennifer's Christian mother (who she says is her #1 fan) pointed out,
"You can't hate someone when you've heard their story."
"You can't hate someone when you've heard their story."
Thursday, 10 May 2012
Thoughts on Amendment One and Christians
Yesterday two major political steps were taken with regards to same-sex marriage: North Carolina approved Amendment One and President Obama gave his support of same-sex marriage. I watched as my Facebook feed filled with the following images (which were somewhat expected):
"My generation is tired of the culture wars.
We are tired of fighting, tired of vain efforts to advance the Kingdom through politics and power, tired of drawing lines in the sand, tired of being known for what we are against, not what we are for.
And when it comes to homosexuality, we no longer think in the black-[and]-white categories of the generations before ours. We know too many wonderful people from the LGBT community to consider homosexuality a mere 'issue.' These are people, and they are our friends. When they tell us that something hurts them, we listen. And Amendment One hurts like hell...
So my question for those evangelicals leading the charge in the culture wars is this: Is it worth it?
Is a political 'victory' really worth losing millions more young people to cynicism regarding the Church?
Is a political 'victory' worth further alienating people who identify as LGBT?
Is a political 'victory' worth perpetuating the idea that evangelical Christians are at war with gays and lesbians?
And is a political 'victory' worth drowning out that quiet but persistent internal voice that asks—what if we get this wrong?" (Source).
And then several times I saw the following images, paired with people's commentary on Christian's hatred and 'idiocy' about gay marriage and homosexuality.
The Devon Park Church sign (above) was circulating, along with the commentary: "that's some kind of threesome." In these moments, I was appalled and became very frustrated! People are no longer making this political war one of left-wing vs. right-wing or conservative vs. liberal, but of Christians vs. gay marriage equality. I wanted to stand up for those of us who don't at all share or support (and indeed fight) this hatred toward the LGBT community, and say, "We're not ALL like this!"
While I'm aware that there's definitely reason to have these feelings toward the Christian community, what people need to understand is that many of us don't even see eye-to-eye on this "issue" (I put this in quotes because it's not merely just an 'issue' really - see more below) and there's a great dissent about how this is handled within the Church.
Because I'm not as eloquent, and because perhaps what I feel has already been said perfectly, I want to direct you to a blog post by Rachel Held Evans, a Christian writer and blogger, whose newest book is called A Year of Biblical Womanhood.
Her post is titled "How to Win a Culture War and Lose a Generation," and it really resonated with me. It provides an overview of what Christians and others are saying in regards to Amendment One. But my favorite section of her post is as follows:
And when it comes to homosexuality, we no longer think in the black-[and]-white categories of the generations before ours. We know too many wonderful people from the LGBT community to consider homosexuality a mere 'issue.' These are people, and they are our friends. When they tell us that something hurts them, we listen. And Amendment One hurts like hell...
So my question for those evangelicals leading the charge in the culture wars is this: Is it worth it?
Is a political 'victory' really worth losing millions more young people to cynicism regarding the Church?
Is a political 'victory' worth further alienating people who identify as LGBT?
Is a political 'victory' worth perpetuating the idea that evangelical Christians are at war with gays and lesbians?
And is a political 'victory' worth drowning out that quiet but persistent internal voice that asks—what if we get this wrong?" (Source).
Monday, 7 May 2012
Studying = Attention = Better Prayer
Academic work is one of those fields containing a pearl so precious that it is worthwhile to sell all our possessions, keeping nothing for ourselves, in order to be able to acquire it. - - Simone Weil
I first read about Simone Weil's concept in this blog post called "Simone Weil on Study and Prayer." I have since read the essay this blogger refers to, which comes from Weil's work Waiting for God. To provide some biographical and historical context, "Weil was born in Paris and died in Ashford, England. [She was a] religious philosopher, essayist, dramatist, and poet, as well as social critic and political activist."*
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What I found most interesting about this short essay, was her assertion that we should "contemplate attentively and slowly each school task in which we have failed, seeing how unpleasing and second rate it is, without seeking any excuse or overlooking any mistake. . . trying to get down to the origin of each fault" (60). In this way, she adds, it is "perhaps even more useful to contemplate our stupidity than our sin" (60). Furthermore, "when we force ourselves to fix the gaze, not only of our eyes but of our souls, upon a school exercise in which we have failed through sheer stupidity, a sense of our mediocrity is borne in upon us with irresistible evidence" (60).
It's interesting to read her commentary on the difference between those who have chosen academia as their field of interest and those who have not (but we must consider her historical context here):
"Happy are those who pass their adolescence and youth in developing this power of attention. No doubt they are no nearer the goodness than their brothers [and sisters] working in fields and factories. They are near in a different way. . . [W]orkmen [and women] possess a nearness to God of incomparable savor which is found in the depths of poverty, in the absence of social consideration and in the endurance of long drawn-out sufferings" (64).
Lastly, I appreciated her connection of academic studies to loving thy neighbor: "paradoxical as it may seem, a Latin prose or a geometry problem, even though they are done wrong, may be of great service one day, provided we devote the right kind of effort [and attention] to them. Should the occasion arise, they can one day make us better able to give someone in affliction the help required to save him, at the supreme moment of need" (65). This might seem an unlikely connection, but she argues that loving thy neighbor "means being able to say to him [or her]: 'What are you going through?'. . . this way of looking is first of all attentive. The soul empties itself of all its own contents in order to receive into itself the being it is looking at, just as he is, in all his truth. Only he who is capable of attention can do this" (64-5).
Right now, for some of us, our school work and academic year is drawing to a close. We've given our attention to school work and study, some of which we might not have understood or seen as helpful. But if we remember Weil's analysis in these moments of struggle in academic work, we can learn to be more attentive, prayerful, and loving to those around us.
*Back cover of Waiting for God
Sunday, 6 May 2012
Black Feminist Thought and The Help
Not too long ago I wrote a post called "Wrestling with The Help," realizing and contemplating the ways the film and book have been critiqued by the black community. I have since continued thinking and 'wrestling' with it, and talking with others about their opinions. What follows is a response for my feminist theory class, one that I wrote after reading Patricia Hill Collins' "The Politics of Black Feminist Thought" and several other articles concerning Black Feminist Theory. Since there was such a great discussion that followed my last post on The Help, I thought I'd share this response for further conversation. . .
While reading Patricia Hill Collins’ piece “The Politics of Black Feminist Thought,” I was reminded of the recent controversy over Katherine Stockett’s book The Help and the movie released last August. The book and film depict, through a particular perspective, racism of Jackson, Mississippi during the early 1960s. Skeeter, a young white woman has just returned home from college and begins writing the stories of “the help,” hoping to become a ‘serious’ writer. Aibileen and Minnie are two of the black domestics who share their stories of raising white children and experiencing the oppressive roles as hired domestics, working for small wages and little respect.
As a young white woman myself, I read the book and watched the film, touched at the depiction of the black women caring for the white children like they are their own; for me, Aibileen is the real protagonist. I thought, naively, that the film and book had both portrayed the story of these women in a historically accurate way. However, I started reading articles and blog posts arguing that The Help depicted unrealistic and nostalgic images of the real race issues in the 1960s south, and I began to see that the black community was not nearly as receptive as the white community.
It soon became eerily reminiscent of what Collins asserts as “[s]uppressing the knowledge produced by any oppressed group mak[ing] it easier for dominant groups to rule because the seeming absence of an independent consciousness in the oppressed can be taken to mean that subordinate groups willingly collaborate in their own victimization” (52). I began to worry that the book and film did not fully articulate the complex intersectionality; instead as Trina Grillo writes, “sometimes the governing paradigms which have structured all or our lives are so powerful that we can think we are doing progressive work, dismantling the structures of racism and other oppressions, when in fact we are reinforcing the paradigms” (30). In other words, I started wondering whether The Help was dismantling or reinforcing racism and the oppression of domestic workers.
I watched a segment about The Help on Melissa Harris-Perry’s show on MSNBC, called “The Help doesn’t ‘help’ domestic workers.” Harris-Perry and guests’ criticisms of the film connect to Collins’ discussion of the “suppression of black feminist thought,” which “has been structured along three interdependent dimensions” (53). These dimensions include women’s labor, political mistreatment, and “the controlling images of Black women” (53). The controversy over The Help touches on two of these three dimensions specifically – women’s labor and the stereotypical images of Black women.
First, Collins writes, “the exploitation of Black women’s labor – the ‘iron pots and kettles’ symbolizing Black women’s longstanding ghettoization in service occupations – represents the economic dimension of oppression” (53). One of the arguments against the film and book is that it only depicts Black women as domestics, unable to do anything else other than clean, cook, and take care of white babies. While this might be a historically accurate depiction of the south in the 1960s, it is perhaps one reason why the black community was so angry with the book and film; it is a contemporary depiction of women in exploitative roles that are represented in a somewhat nostalgic way.
Another dimension the controversy touched on – as well as Melissa Harris-Perry’s segment – is the “nexus of negative stereotypical images applied to African-American women” (53). Collins writes, “From the mammies, Jezebels, and breeder women of slavery to the smiling Aunt Jemimas on pancake mix boxes, ubiquitous Black prostitutes and ever-present welfare mothers of contemporary popular culture [these] negative [...] images [...] have been fundamental to Black women’s oppression” (53). Harris-Perry specifically mentions the danger of the depiction of black women in The Help, similar to what Collins asserts, as a way “to keep African-American women in an assigned, subordinate place” (53).
To articulate this connection of the women’s roles in The Help and the dangerous stereotypical images connected to slavery, Harris-Perry suggested that viewers not only read the book and watch the film to form their own opinions, but also read Clinging to Mammy: The Faithful Slave in 20th Century America, by University of Connecticut professor Micki McElya, who argues, “Assertions of black people's contentment with servitude alleviated white fears while reinforcing racial hierarchy” (Google Books). Collins also mentions this reinforcement of hierarchy in her article: “Black women’s exclusion from positions of power within mainstream institutions has led to the elevation of elite white male ideas and interests and the corresponding suppression of Black women’s ideas and interests...” (53).
What I’ve learned as a young white woman after reading The Help, criticisms of the book and film, and Collins’ piece is that we must be receptive of these issues and how they might differ based on our own identities and experiences. Because members of the black community feel that The Help is a contemporary example of “economic exploitation” for Black women and a continuation of “negative stereotypes,” we must openly try to understand these arguments and why they are important in shaping and affecting our current culture and society.
Still, I see where the film and book can point out – even in small ways – the very injustices the black community wishes to bring to light. For example, in the film Skeeter tells her editor, “These colored women raise white children and in twenty years those children become the boss. We love them and they love us, but they can’t even use the toilets in our houses...” (The Help). Even though the film does have its many flaws and historical inaccuracies, I find moments like this, pointing to Maria Stewart’s own “object[ion] to the injustice of this situation: ‘We have pursued in shadow, they have obtained the substance; we have performed the labor, they have received the profits; we have planted the vines, they have eaten the fruits of them’” (qtd. in Collins 51). The lines from the film also point to what Collins calls Black women’s roles as “outsiders-within,” which “allowed African-American women to see the white elites [...from] a special Black women’s perspective” (56). Though The Help has its many flaws, and as a white woman I cannot fully understand, I can see how it can become a useful place for conversation about important race, class, and gender issues.
While reading Patricia Hill Collins’ piece “The Politics of Black Feminist Thought,” I was reminded of the recent controversy over Katherine Stockett’s book The Help and the movie released last August. The book and film depict, through a particular perspective, racism of Jackson, Mississippi during the early 1960s. Skeeter, a young white woman has just returned home from college and begins writing the stories of “the help,” hoping to become a ‘serious’ writer. Aibileen and Minnie are two of the black domestics who share their stories of raising white children and experiencing the oppressive roles as hired domestics, working for small wages and little respect.
As a young white woman myself, I read the book and watched the film, touched at the depiction of the black women caring for the white children like they are their own; for me, Aibileen is the real protagonist. I thought, naively, that the film and book had both portrayed the story of these women in a historically accurate way. However, I started reading articles and blog posts arguing that The Help depicted unrealistic and nostalgic images of the real race issues in the 1960s south, and I began to see that the black community was not nearly as receptive as the white community.
It soon became eerily reminiscent of what Collins asserts as “[s]uppressing the knowledge produced by any oppressed group mak[ing] it easier for dominant groups to rule because the seeming absence of an independent consciousness in the oppressed can be taken to mean that subordinate groups willingly collaborate in their own victimization” (52). I began to worry that the book and film did not fully articulate the complex intersectionality; instead as Trina Grillo writes, “sometimes the governing paradigms which have structured all or our lives are so powerful that we can think we are doing progressive work, dismantling the structures of racism and other oppressions, when in fact we are reinforcing the paradigms” (30). In other words, I started wondering whether The Help was dismantling or reinforcing racism and the oppression of domestic workers.
I watched a segment about The Help on Melissa Harris-Perry’s show on MSNBC, called “The Help doesn’t ‘help’ domestic workers.” Harris-Perry and guests’ criticisms of the film connect to Collins’ discussion of the “suppression of black feminist thought,” which “has been structured along three interdependent dimensions” (53). These dimensions include women’s labor, political mistreatment, and “the controlling images of Black women” (53). The controversy over The Help touches on two of these three dimensions specifically – women’s labor and the stereotypical images of Black women.
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| Source |
Another dimension the controversy touched on – as well as Melissa Harris-Perry’s segment – is the “nexus of negative stereotypical images applied to African-American women” (53). Collins writes, “From the mammies, Jezebels, and breeder women of slavery to the smiling Aunt Jemimas on pancake mix boxes, ubiquitous Black prostitutes and ever-present welfare mothers of contemporary popular culture [these] negative [...] images [...] have been fundamental to Black women’s oppression” (53). Harris-Perry specifically mentions the danger of the depiction of black women in The Help, similar to what Collins asserts, as a way “to keep African-American women in an assigned, subordinate place” (53).
 |
| Source |
What I’ve learned as a young white woman after reading The Help, criticisms of the book and film, and Collins’ piece is that we must be receptive of these issues and how they might differ based on our own identities and experiences. Because members of the black community feel that The Help is a contemporary example of “economic exploitation” for Black women and a continuation of “negative stereotypes,” we must openly try to understand these arguments and why they are important in shaping and affecting our current culture and society.
Still, I see where the film and book can point out – even in small ways – the very injustices the black community wishes to bring to light. For example, in the film Skeeter tells her editor, “These colored women raise white children and in twenty years those children become the boss. We love them and they love us, but they can’t even use the toilets in our houses...” (The Help). Even though the film does have its many flaws and historical inaccuracies, I find moments like this, pointing to Maria Stewart’s own “object[ion] to the injustice of this situation: ‘We have pursued in shadow, they have obtained the substance; we have performed the labor, they have received the profits; we have planted the vines, they have eaten the fruits of them’” (qtd. in Collins 51). The lines from the film also point to what Collins calls Black women’s roles as “outsiders-within,” which “allowed African-American women to see the white elites [...from] a special Black women’s perspective” (56). Though The Help has its many flaws, and as a white woman I cannot fully understand, I can see how it can become a useful place for conversation about important race, class, and gender issues.
Thursday, 19 April 2012
Obsessions
ob-ses-sion (noun): 1: a persistent disturbing preoccupation with an often unreasonable idea or feeling; broadly : compelling motivation
2
: something that causes an obsession*
Our first day of the CNF writing class our professor had us go around and introduce ourselves, and 'confess' two of our obsessions. I thought this was brilliant for a creative writing class, but it could also be a great way to break the ice in any class! As we went around sharing our current obsessions, we learned a lot about each other's interests, backgrounds, and personalities.
One girl shared that she was obsessed with buying movies and owns more than 1,000 of them; another girl said she's been obsessed with Titanic since it came out when she was in middle-school (I could definitely relate); several of us admitted that we were currently obsessed with The Hunger Games , and we jokingly remarked that we need to have a small group discussion one day - it's yet to happen but I don't doubt that it might one day.
Sharing our obsessions got me thinking about my own strange obsessions I've had over the years. I think it would be an interesting thing to explore in writing some time. I've tried to think of some of the things I've gotten hung-up on for a period of time growing up, and I found that most of these obsessions came about because of a movie:
Storm Chasers - - I loved Twister and went around 'chasing' them in the backyard with my own 'Dorothy' I'd made from a plastic play grocery store cart, balls of paper, and the little whirligigs that blow in the wind. One year for Christmas Santa Claus brought me Tornados, Hurricanes, and Thunderstorms videos from The Weather Channel. I've watched almost all the movies made about tornados (that seemed to be my favorite storm to chase).
The Home Alone movies - - I was Kevin. I wanted a brown backpack like him to carry the TalkBoy I got for a birthday (or Christmas, can't remember). I had Mom record things he said into my TalkBoy ("...and I want one of those little refrigerators you have to open with a key. Credit card, you got it!"). This is perhaps the weirdest obsession in my mind, and I can't really figure out why I was so interested.
Titanic - - I already talked about this in a recent post; I loved the 1997 film and started exploring the real Titanic, checking out books at the library, watching the old films of the tragedy, typing up facts about the people and the things onboard on our little computer and printing them out.
I'm sure there were many more in between if I really sit and think about it, but when I was older I was obsessed with more literature-related stuff:
Transcendentalists and the American Bloomsbury - - Writers who lived in Concord, Massachusetts - Louisa May Alcott, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Margaret Fuller, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Henry David Thoreau. I thought it was so interesting that they all lived close to one another and had relationships, such brilliance living in one area. When I was a sophomore in college my parents took our vacation in Concord and my mom and I got to tour the Alcott house; we visited Walden Pond where Thoreau lived for a while and wrote Walden; we saw Hawthorne's and Emerson's houses. I am so thankful that my family took the time to do this, because goodness knows they weren't that interested in it except that it was part of American history and it's quite beautiful up there.
Holocaust Literature - - Another tragedy to add to Titanic and Tornadoes, I've been interested in Holocaust literature since college and can probably call this an ongoing obsession. I think it first started around the time I was in a play about children in the Holocaust called I Never Saw Another Butterfly. I never got to take a Holocaust Lit class (though they offered one...bummer), but I've researched it a lot on my own and written papers since then. I have a growing list of related books and I'd eventually love to build a class centered around Holocaust Lit. I find it fascinating that what these people - who were days and months from their death, threatened with being exterminated, or those who lived and survived - wanted to do was write and create art. The children in Terezin wrote and drew on the back of Nazi paper; they could turn it over and find the list of people who were dying around them. If that isn't powerful and if those words don't tell us something, then I don't know if there is really power in anything. "A Wall of Two" is a collection of poetry written by two sisters in a concentration camp; they sewed the words into their clothes and they live on today. Anne Frank's words live on. These victims of humanity survived through the words they left. Those words are read today. They live through those words. Their words will last forever (or as long as someone finds the need to pass them on). I just find that amazing.
The Hunger Games - - Again, a very recent and current obsession. Anytime I hear someone talking about it I join the conversation. I know many people think it's a bit morbid (and it is) but it's a powerful story and metaphor for our world, providing a place to begin discussion about oppression, subversive living, and class structures.
It's interesting to think about our obsessions; they tell a lot about our personalities and experiences, and they help us explore the stages we've gone through. Our obsessions shape us and stay with us for the rest of our lives. What obsessions did you have growing up or do you have now?
*from Merriam-Webster dictionary online
One girl shared that she was obsessed with buying movies and owns more than 1,000 of them; another girl said she's been obsessed with Titanic since it came out when she was in middle-school (I could definitely relate); several of us admitted that we were currently obsessed with The Hunger Games
Titanic - - I already talked about this in a recent post; I loved the 1997 film and started exploring the real Titanic, checking out books at the library, watching the old films of the tragedy, typing up facts about the people and the things onboard on our little computer and printing them out.
I'm sure there were many more in between if I really sit and think about it, but when I was older I was obsessed with more literature-related stuff:
 |
Holocaust Literature - - Another tragedy to add to Titanic and Tornadoes, I've been interested in Holocaust literature since college and can probably call this an ongoing obsession. I think it first started around the time I was in a play about children in the Holocaust called I Never Saw Another Butterfly. I never got to take a Holocaust Lit class (though they offered one...bummer), but I've researched it a lot on my own and written papers since then. I have a growing list of related books and I'd eventually love to build a class centered around Holocaust Lit. I find it fascinating that what these people - who were days and months from their death, threatened with being exterminated, or those who lived and survived - wanted to do was write and create art. The children in Terezin wrote and drew on the back of Nazi paper; they could turn it over and find the list of people who were dying around them. If that isn't powerful and if those words don't tell us something, then I don't know if there is really power in anything. "A Wall of Two" is a collection of poetry written by two sisters in a concentration camp; they sewed the words into their clothes and they live on today. Anne Frank's words live on. These victims of humanity survived through the words they left. Those words are read today. They live through those words. Their words will last forever (or as long as someone finds the need to pass them on). I just find that amazing.
The Hunger Games - - Again, a very recent and current obsession. Anytime I hear someone talking about it I join the conversation. I know many people think it's a bit morbid (and it is) but it's a powerful story and metaphor for our world, providing a place to begin discussion about oppression, subversive living, and class structures.
It's interesting to think about our obsessions; they tell a lot about our personalities and experiences, and they help us explore the stages we've gone through. Our obsessions shape us and stay with us for the rest of our lives. What obsessions did you have growing up or do you have now?
*from Merriam-Webster dictionary online
Tuesday, 3 April 2012
.wrestling with 'Christianity'.
Last month I presented a paper I wrote in my Feminism and Christianity class called "Feminism and Christianity: Christ as Feminist Leader, the Church as Socio-political Movement." During our panel, it was great being back in this conversation again with fellow Christians and non-believers alike. In a couple more weeks I will present the same paper at Cornerstone University's philosophy conference ("Thinking Christianity in the Present Tense: The Politics of Discipleship") in Grand Rapids, Michigan, thanks to my friend, Lindsey, who shared with me the 'call for papers.' Once again, I'll be back in conversation with others about what it means to be a Christian in today's society.
I've had the following blog post drafted for a while, but I've not felt comfortable about posting it (I'm not sure why, it's merely my frustrations and reflections on Christianity. They're ongoing and ever-changing, so I suppose that's why I hesitate to share). Again, Lindsey helped give me the courage to share my thoughts after posting a similar discussion on her blog. So here goes...
I've had the following blog post drafted for a while, but I've not felt comfortable about posting it (I'm not sure why, it's merely my frustrations and reflections on Christianity. They're ongoing and ever-changing, so I suppose that's why I hesitate to share). Again, Lindsey helped give me the courage to share my thoughts after posting a similar discussion on her blog. So here goes...
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| 'The Church' by Diane E. Fairfield Source: civa-artists.ning.com |
I have to admit, I grow more and more frustrated with 'modern American Christianity,' the one that's used as a political weapon to oppress people, control bodies, and win votes. A friend and fellow grad student has even considered the idea of no longer calling herself a 'Christian' because of the negative connotations that come along with it. 'Follower of Christ' might be a more apt 'label.'
I begin this post by saying that I do not study theology like my husband or the many people he goes to school with, so what follows might feel more like an awkward dance than a graceful ballet. Nevertheless, I've been wanting to write about this topic for a while, so I've got to start somewhere, right?
I grew up Southern Baptist which meant I was raised to fear going to hell; descriptions of it were preached from the wooden pulpit many Sundays, selected readings from the book of Revelations. I was urged that 'if you'll just repeat this simple prayer after me, your name will be written in The Book of Life and you'll receive the Kingdom of Heaven when you die.' Pretty simple and individualistic, right? Repeat these words, believe them, and you'll be granted everlasting life.
I'm reminded of the childhood fears of hell when I see bumper stickers like the one we saw yesterday: "If you drop dead today will you go to heaven or hell?" I'm always left wondering whether that's the first question this Christian would ask when 'ministering' or 'witnessing' to non-believers; I shudder at the prospective answer and wonder whether the simple smiley-face "Jesus Loves You" might have been a better sticker choice...to each his own, I suppose.
Having since moved away from the Southern Baptist tradition and attended Presbyterian and Episcopal churches in both the southwest Virginia area and our present home, southern Ohio, I've learned an equally 'scary' concept of being a Christian. It's written in Matthew 25 (an excerpt rarely discussed in my childhood Southern Baptist church community); you can read the full excerpt here, but I'll give you the summary from Matt 25:40: "Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." Gone away is the comforting 'simple prayer' of the individualist Christian making his straight path to heaven, and introduced is this communal notion that our path is paved by believing in the salvation of Christ and 'doing for the least of these brother and sisters.'
Christian establishments (churches) that emphasize the 'hell, fire, brimstone' rather than the 'daily walk' - might think they have others beat when it comes to making the congregation shake in their boots, but I'm afraid to say this one keeps me on my toes in a much more physical sense than the former. But I have to say that I'm much more eager to be working toward this goal than the other. As a child I was fearful of being 'Left Behind' even after having prayed the 'simple prayer' and being baptized in the small pool above the alter (possibly because the preacher asserted that sometimes "the first time didn't take"). I believed in Jesus, tried to obey my parents, and continued living my childlike understanding of Christianity the best I could. Now I understand these small fears might have been a reminder that Christianity is not like a passport we get stamped and 'we're good to go.' We need to continually remind ourselves that we are called, by Jesus himself, to do for the 'least of these,' sharing the love of Christ with others.
I realize I'm not saying anything new or revelatory here. In fact, it reminds me of a friend's sermon I had the pleasure of listening to the other day (you can read it here). She started her sermon with the story of a preacher who preached the same lesson on the Gospel every Sunday. Sunday after Sunday he gave that same sermon on the Gospel, until one day someone in the congregation asked him why he gave the same sermon week after week? Why didn't he try teaching something else? The preacher replied, "Because week after week you leave and go out in the world and forget it. I'm hoping if I preach it long enough, it'll stick."
I am challenged by Matt 25 on a daily basis, perhaps one reason why I've been wanting to write about it. Belief in Jesus is only the first step in becoming and living life as a Christian. As Christians we should be encouragers of our faith, standing up for one another when we/others are oppressed or bullied for our/their beliefs. Otherwise, we become the negative examples people point to when they can't understand why Christians are any different than anyone else.
I was reminded of this tonight as I was driving home listening to a song by Brooke Frasier called "Hosea's Wife." They're powerful lyrics, especially the chorus: We are Hosea's Wife/ we are squandering this life/ Using people like ladders and words like knives/ If we've eyes to see/ If we've ears to hear/ To find it in our hearts and mouths/ The word that saves is near/ Shed that shallow skin/ Come and live again/ Leave all you were before/ To believe is to begin. To believe is to begin, and believing is just the beginning...
I begin this post by saying that I do not study theology like my husband or the many people he goes to school with, so what follows might feel more like an awkward dance than a graceful ballet. Nevertheless, I've been wanting to write about this topic for a while, so I've got to start somewhere, right?
I grew up Southern Baptist which meant I was raised to fear going to hell; descriptions of it were preached from the wooden pulpit many Sundays, selected readings from the book of Revelations. I was urged that 'if you'll just repeat this simple prayer after me, your name will be written in The Book of Life and you'll receive the Kingdom of Heaven when you die.' Pretty simple and individualistic, right? Repeat these words, believe them, and you'll be granted everlasting life.
I'm reminded of the childhood fears of hell when I see bumper stickers like the one we saw yesterday: "If you drop dead today will you go to heaven or hell?" I'm always left wondering whether that's the first question this Christian would ask when 'ministering' or 'witnessing' to non-believers; I shudder at the prospective answer and wonder whether the simple smiley-face "Jesus Loves You" might have been a better sticker choice...to each his own, I suppose.
Having since moved away from the Southern Baptist tradition and attended Presbyterian and Episcopal churches in both the southwest Virginia area and our present home, southern Ohio, I've learned an equally 'scary' concept of being a Christian. It's written in Matthew 25 (an excerpt rarely discussed in my childhood Southern Baptist church community); you can read the full excerpt here, but I'll give you the summary from Matt 25:40: "Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me." Gone away is the comforting 'simple prayer' of the individualist Christian making his straight path to heaven, and introduced is this communal notion that our path is paved by believing in the salvation of Christ and 'doing for the least of these brother and sisters.'
Christian establishments (churches) that emphasize the 'hell, fire, brimstone' rather than the 'daily walk' - might think they have others beat when it comes to making the congregation shake in their boots, but I'm afraid to say this one keeps me on my toes in a much more physical sense than the former. But I have to say that I'm much more eager to be working toward this goal than the other. As a child I was fearful of being 'Left Behind' even after having prayed the 'simple prayer' and being baptized in the small pool above the alter (possibly because the preacher asserted that sometimes "the first time didn't take"). I believed in Jesus, tried to obey my parents, and continued living my childlike understanding of Christianity the best I could. Now I understand these small fears might have been a reminder that Christianity is not like a passport we get stamped and 'we're good to go.' We need to continually remind ourselves that we are called, by Jesus himself, to do for the 'least of these,' sharing the love of Christ with others.
I realize I'm not saying anything new or revelatory here. In fact, it reminds me of a friend's sermon I had the pleasure of listening to the other day (you can read it here). She started her sermon with the story of a preacher who preached the same lesson on the Gospel every Sunday. Sunday after Sunday he gave that same sermon on the Gospel, until one day someone in the congregation asked him why he gave the same sermon week after week? Why didn't he try teaching something else? The preacher replied, "Because week after week you leave and go out in the world and forget it. I'm hoping if I preach it long enough, it'll stick."
I am challenged by Matt 25 on a daily basis, perhaps one reason why I've been wanting to write about it. Belief in Jesus is only the first step in becoming and living life as a Christian. As Christians we should be encouragers of our faith, standing up for one another when we/others are oppressed or bullied for our/their beliefs. Otherwise, we become the negative examples people point to when they can't understand why Christians are any different than anyone else.
I was reminded of this tonight as I was driving home listening to a song by Brooke Frasier called "Hosea's Wife." They're powerful lyrics, especially the chorus: We are Hosea's Wife/ we are squandering this life/ Using people like ladders and words like knives/ If we've eyes to see/ If we've ears to hear/ To find it in our hearts and mouths/ The word that saves is near/ Shed that shallow skin/ Come and live again/ Leave all you were before/ To believe is to begin. To believe is to begin, and believing is just the beginning...
Monday, 19 March 2012
.truth, beauty, and sharing with strangers.
It's spring break (!!!), which for me means catching up on some fun-reads, working on my independent paper due next quarter (ha, we'll see), and laying out on our balcony doing absolutely nothing but listening to the birds and the children in the playground next to our apartment. I started Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close at the beginning of last quarter, but it's been so long since picking it up that I'm kind of lost (I'm going to get back to it soon, Lindsey!).
In the meantime I've picked up Ann Patchett's Truth and Beauty: A Friendship, a memoir about her friendship with fellow poet and writer Lucy Grealy. We read Grealy's memoir Autobiography of a Face in our Writing the Body course so I feel like I already know Ann and Lucy, like I'm on a first-name basis with them. We also watched an interview with Lucy on the Charlie Rose Show in class (rather strange, actually...we were all pretty appalled at the way he dominated the conversation and asked irrelevant questions) and I've since watched Ann on The Colbert Report (thanks to a friend sharing it on Facebook). I've also started following her blog, which details the progress of her independent bookstore in Nashville, Tennessee, Parnassus Books and gives her very own book recommendations. It's funny how after you've seen or heard an author you feel like you know them personally, and even more so when you read their memoirs, although Lucy was known for recreating the truths in her autobiography, taking hold of the 'real' events and making them her own.
Anytime you read something you tend to connect in ways that relate to your own life and in reading Truth and Beauty I've been reminded of my relationship with my best friend/husband. It's strange how these two women's relationship has reminded me of my marriage. But in the ways that she describes their close, encouraging relationship with one another I couldn't help but think of my husband and our relationship as best friends before and as wife and husband. For instance, Ann writes, "As two reasonably intelligent and very serious writers in a reasonably serious writing program, we didn't so much discuss our work as volley ideas back and forth until neither of us was sure who belonged to what. Not that it mattered. Since we didn't share a genre, we could both find plenty of space inside the same idea" (22). Now, my husband and I would not call ourselves 'serious writers,' but we are both writing in our programs, working on our separate projects, he in theology, I in Literature and Women's Studies, 'volleying' our ideas over dinner or over the sink while brushing our teeth. Their relationship of sharing ideas is a form of intimacy, just as I feel ours is.
Another way our marriage relates to their relationship is in their differences of comfort in 'squalor:' "Unlike Lucy, I could never give myself so completely over to my art that I would not notice the half-eaten plate of spaghetti in the middle of the living room floor. After a few early discussions it was agreed that my standard of acceptable cleanliness was something she would never be able to comprehend and I was unable to live at the level of squalor in which she seemed comfortable...The compromise was that I would do all the cleaning and cooking and that neither of us would complain about it..." (23-4). Now I will say that I don't do all the cleaning and cooking (quite the contrary since my husband actually cooks most of the time due to my weird schedule) but we can definitely relate to their differences in 'levels of squalor.' The level of trash might have reached my comfortability days before my husband, so I laughed out loud at Ann's commentary of this aspect of their relationship. I'm sure many couples, roommates, and friends can relate to this!
Finally, I was able to relate on a personal level to Ann's assertion that "The process of putting the thing you value most in the world [writing] out for the assessment of strangers is a confidence-shaking business even in the best of times" (63). I feel this every time I turn in a paper, read poetry or essays aloud in class, or even post on my blog. Even though I know I have a limited number of readers, there's a drop in my stomach every time I click the "Publish Post" button, sending my thoughts out to be judged and critiqued by others. Fellow bloggers and writers might either agree or find this silly, but I think it's the 'curse' of sharing the private and personal with the public. But then again, I'm grateful that Ann and Lucy shared their valued personal work with total strangers, like myself.
In the meantime I've picked up Ann Patchett's Truth and Beauty: A Friendship, a memoir about her friendship with fellow poet and writer Lucy Grealy. We read Grealy's memoir Autobiography of a Face in our Writing the Body course so I feel like I already know Ann and Lucy, like I'm on a first-name basis with them. We also watched an interview with Lucy on the Charlie Rose Show in class (rather strange, actually...we were all pretty appalled at the way he dominated the conversation and asked irrelevant questions) and I've since watched Ann on The Colbert Report (thanks to a friend sharing it on Facebook). I've also started following her blog, which details the progress of her independent bookstore in Nashville, Tennessee, Parnassus Books and gives her very own book recommendations. It's funny how after you've seen or heard an author you feel like you know them personally, and even more so when you read their memoirs, although Lucy was known for recreating the truths in her autobiography, taking hold of the 'real' events and making them her own.
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| Here's a priceless picture I found of Lucy and Ann - courtesy of Books on the Brain |
Another way our marriage relates to their relationship is in their differences of comfort in 'squalor:' "Unlike Lucy, I could never give myself so completely over to my art that I would not notice the half-eaten plate of spaghetti in the middle of the living room floor. After a few early discussions it was agreed that my standard of acceptable cleanliness was something she would never be able to comprehend and I was unable to live at the level of squalor in which she seemed comfortable...The compromise was that I would do all the cleaning and cooking and that neither of us would complain about it..." (23-4). Now I will say that I don't do all the cleaning and cooking (quite the contrary since my husband actually cooks most of the time due to my weird schedule) but we can definitely relate to their differences in 'levels of squalor.' The level of trash might have reached my comfortability days before my husband, so I laughed out loud at Ann's commentary of this aspect of their relationship. I'm sure many couples, roommates, and friends can relate to this!
Finally, I was able to relate on a personal level to Ann's assertion that "The process of putting the thing you value most in the world [writing] out for the assessment of strangers is a confidence-shaking business even in the best of times" (63). I feel this every time I turn in a paper, read poetry or essays aloud in class, or even post on my blog. Even though I know I have a limited number of readers, there's a drop in my stomach every time I click the "Publish Post" button, sending my thoughts out to be judged and critiqued by others. Fellow bloggers and writers might either agree or find this silly, but I think it's the 'curse' of sharing the private and personal with the public. But then again, I'm grateful that Ann and Lucy shared their valued personal work with total strangers, like myself.
Friday, 16 March 2012
.Appalachian Studies Conference #2
Last year Scott and I attended the Appalachian Studies Conference at Eastern Kentucky University (EKU) in Richmond, KY. This year the conference is being held at Indiana University of Pennsylvania (IUP) and we're both presenting in panels! The conference is next weekend so today I've been reviewing the conference booklet we got in the mail several weeks ago (just now getting around to finding the panels I'm interested in attending).
The panel I'm in is titled Literature about Coal Mining and my presentation is called "An Appalachian Pilgrimage Toward National Identity: Cinematic Narrative in Muriel Rukeyser's 'The Book of the Dead.'" There are three other presenters from Penn State, Goucher College, and IUP. Scott's in a panel titled Ann Pancake, Mountaintop Removal, and Environmental Justice Critiques of the Crisis; his presentation is called "The Bio-Power of Mountaintop Removal and the Globalized Reach of Appalachia."
Some of the other panels I'm interested in checking out during the conference (and hoping we have the time) include:
Women's Experiences (very excited about this one!) - - "Boarding Houses, Hotels and Mansions: Appalachian Women as Property Owners in Turn-of-the-Century Bramwell, WV" - "'A Big Smack in the Face:' College Experiences of Girls from Rural West Virginia" - "Oral Histories of Older Women in Appalachian Heritage: Stories of Urban versus Rural Life" - "Single Mothers Staring Down Stereotypes"
Razing Appalachia film viewing (about mountaintop-removal mining)
Women's Literature - - "'The Days of Man:' Depictions of Community in Denise Giardina's Storming Heaven and Menna Gallie's Strike for a Kingdom" - "'You have even been to lady school:' Pierre Bourdieu, Lee Smith, and an Appalachian Education" - "Wilma Dykeman's Wide Reach and Imperative Vision"
Digital Appalachia - - "'Mappalachia:' The Region's Digital Reach" - "Teaching Appalachian Studies in the Digital Age" - "Reconstructing the Inaccessible Past through Virtual World Platforms" - "Helping Eastern Kentucky Art Teachers Build an Online Community"
Developmental Education in High Schools and Community Colleges - - "Appalachian Girls' College Preparedness: A Comparison of Intervention Programs" - "Perceptions of Teaching by At-Risk Students at a Rural, First-Year-Experience College" - "West Virginia Northern Community College's Attempts at Workforce Development in the 1970s and 1980s" - "A Narrative after Tutoring in Humanities at a Community College in Eastern Kentucky"
Writing into the Forbidden: Women from Appalachia on Cultivating the Courage to Speak panel
There are so many more great panels throughout the three-day conference, and lots of interesting things to explore: books are sold and signed, lots of organizations hand out information (last year we found out about the Bee Hive Collective and bought one of their posters to hang on our wall) so I'm excited to see what new stuff we learn this year.
- - Exciting side-note: we're also planning to see The Hunger Games while we're gone since it comes out in theaters that weekend (for all who've read the book(s) this is another connection to Appalachia since District 12 is considered the Appalachian region of the fictional dystopian society). Here are some neat pics I found of District 12 in the film. Enjoy!
The panel I'm in is titled Literature about Coal Mining and my presentation is called "An Appalachian Pilgrimage Toward National Identity: Cinematic Narrative in Muriel Rukeyser's 'The Book of the Dead.'" There are three other presenters from Penn State, Goucher College, and IUP. Scott's in a panel titled Ann Pancake, Mountaintop Removal, and Environmental Justice Critiques of the Crisis; his presentation is called "The Bio-Power of Mountaintop Removal and the Globalized Reach of Appalachia."
Some of the other panels I'm interested in checking out during the conference (and hoping we have the time) include:
Women's Experiences (very excited about this one!) - - "Boarding Houses, Hotels and Mansions: Appalachian Women as Property Owners in Turn-of-the-Century Bramwell, WV" - "'A Big Smack in the Face:' College Experiences of Girls from Rural West Virginia" - "Oral Histories of Older Women in Appalachian Heritage: Stories of Urban versus Rural Life" - "Single Mothers Staring Down Stereotypes"
Razing Appalachia film viewing (about mountaintop-removal mining)
Women's Literature - - "'The Days of Man:' Depictions of Community in Denise Giardina's Storming Heaven and Menna Gallie's Strike for a Kingdom" - "'You have even been to lady school:' Pierre Bourdieu, Lee Smith, and an Appalachian Education" - "Wilma Dykeman's Wide Reach and Imperative Vision"
Digital Appalachia - - "'Mappalachia:' The Region's Digital Reach" - "Teaching Appalachian Studies in the Digital Age" - "Reconstructing the Inaccessible Past through Virtual World Platforms" - "Helping Eastern Kentucky Art Teachers Build an Online Community"
Developmental Education in High Schools and Community Colleges - - "Appalachian Girls' College Preparedness: A Comparison of Intervention Programs" - "Perceptions of Teaching by At-Risk Students at a Rural, First-Year-Experience College" - "West Virginia Northern Community College's Attempts at Workforce Development in the 1970s and 1980s" - "A Narrative after Tutoring in Humanities at a Community College in Eastern Kentucky"
Writing into the Forbidden: Women from Appalachia on Cultivating the Courage to Speak panel
There are so many more great panels throughout the three-day conference, and lots of interesting things to explore: books are sold and signed, lots of organizations hand out information (last year we found out about the Bee Hive Collective and bought one of their posters to hang on our wall) so I'm excited to see what new stuff we learn this year.
- - Exciting side-note: we're also planning to see The Hunger Games while we're gone since it comes out in theaters that weekend (for all who've read the book(s) this is another connection to Appalachia since District 12 is considered the Appalachian region of the fictional dystopian society). Here are some neat pics I found of District 12 in the film. Enjoy!
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