My friend Laura Engelken posted this in MySpace, and I wanted to quote her on this. There's a lot of talk around my school about the role of dialogue and resistance : How much do I have to talk with someone else in order to "get" them to "tolerate" my sexuality and relationship? How much should I just live my life and surround myself with people who embrace and accept me as long as I'm honest, ethical, and consensual with my sexuality? How much do I need to be around people who "disapprove" of what is life-giving for me?
Anyway, here's Laura's response to an article in the New York Times:
Mr. Blow,
Thank you for your op-ed piece in the Times, "Gay Marriage and a Moral Minority." http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/29/opinion/29blow.html I appreciate that before you address how to connect with one portion of the electorate (i.e., black women), you name the fallacy that blacks "tipped the balance" on Prop 8. This racist blame game is but another way we effectively "divide and conquer" the oppressed to maintain the status quo.
However, I disagree with the assumed strategy behind your statement:
"Second, don’t debate the Bible. You can’t win. Religious faith is not defined by logic, it defies it. Instead, decouple the legal right from the religious rite, and emphasize the idea of acceptance without endorsement."
I believe the queer movement continues to avoid addressing religious faith at its peril. I say this as a lesbian Christian who spent my faith formative years in fundamentalist communities but now identify as a progressive Christian. As such, I know first hand the futility of debating the Bible with those who view their understanding of Christianity and scripture as infallable and universal. However, it is essential for those of us who understand the Bible as communicating a message of God's love, liberating power and justice -- a message both amplified and muted by the cultural contexts of its writing, development, interpretation and application -- to reclaim Christianity in the public sphere. We must shatter the ethnocentrism masquerading as divinely-ordained truth.
When individuals cast their ballot, they vote their values. I heartily agree with you that we must continue to articulate the difference between religious and civil marriage; I believe it is one key way we ensure our constitutional democracy does not become a theocracy. But if Christians, and other progressive people of faith, allow public discourse to equate "faithfulness" with heterosexism and an obligation to enforce this preferential world view -- we fail to question or challenge those who believe their values are superordinate and prescriptive to all. By not proclaiming our religious values in the public sphere - which are but one voice shaping those of the wider community - progressive people of faith allow false dualisms to claim sole authority and threaten the civil rights of any dissenting minority.
We each have our particular communities of accountability and influence. One of yours is the black community and one of mine is the Christian. Neither of these communities is monolithic - nor are we as individuals. My prayer is that as each of us continues writing, speaking and acting - we participate in our nation's progression toward more fully embracing this vast diversity rather than fearing it.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Quantum of Solace
Yesterday was the 2nd anniversary and my first date with my partner. We celebrated by going out to the Golden Lotus (where we had our first date) and catching Quantum of Solace at the Grand Lake Theater. Here's my review.
This film was a triumph of style and mood, to the point that I didn't really notice that I wasn't following the storyline. The opening titles were some of the best I've seen since The Inside Man. In fact, maybe the best opening titles I've seen - except for the rather annoying silhouettes of women that spun around in circles. With Judi Dench as M (a great casting decision), I want to move a little further away from such sexist objectification of women, please. Speaking of which, wasn't it amazing how Camille's high heels never came off during the whole airfight and parachute jump? Anyway, the visual style - a sort of mix between classic 60's hip Bond and future tech - made me want to buy white pants again. The choice of Jack White and Alicia Keys for the theme was also brilliant, fitting the style mix of hip classic and funky contemporary. Best song since Tina Turner's Goldeneye. I liked the wash of color in the settings - the whites and blacks, the tans and desert tones. The fight scenes were ballet - beautiful and funny at the same time. I picked up on some of the wry commentary on international politics - eg the British Foreign Secretary telling M "that's innuendo and supposition, and the British government doesn't make foreign policy on innuendo and indecision" (subtext: that's why Tony Blair joined Bush in invading Iraq- those supposed weapons of mass destruction). The subtle commentary about the US's involvement in Bolivia, Haiti, and other economically depressed areas. I liked the angle on 'the world's most precious commodity.' I also appreciated the portrayal of the two US CIA agents.
That's what I thought. It was great.
Now back to homework.
This film was a triumph of style and mood, to the point that I didn't really notice that I wasn't following the storyline. The opening titles were some of the best I've seen since The Inside Man. In fact, maybe the best opening titles I've seen - except for the rather annoying silhouettes of women that spun around in circles. With Judi Dench as M (a great casting decision), I want to move a little further away from such sexist objectification of women, please. Speaking of which, wasn't it amazing how Camille's high heels never came off during the whole airfight and parachute jump? Anyway, the visual style - a sort of mix between classic 60's hip Bond and future tech - made me want to buy white pants again. The choice of Jack White and Alicia Keys for the theme was also brilliant, fitting the style mix of hip classic and funky contemporary. Best song since Tina Turner's Goldeneye. I liked the wash of color in the settings - the whites and blacks, the tans and desert tones. The fight scenes were ballet - beautiful and funny at the same time. I picked up on some of the wry commentary on international politics - eg the British Foreign Secretary telling M "that's innuendo and supposition, and the British government doesn't make foreign policy on innuendo and indecision" (subtext: that's why Tony Blair joined Bush in invading Iraq- those supposed weapons of mass destruction). The subtle commentary about the US's involvement in Bolivia, Haiti, and other economically depressed areas. I liked the angle on 'the world's most precious commodity.' I also appreciated the portrayal of the two US CIA agents.
That's what I thought. It was great.
Now back to homework.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
religion and fear
Tonight I participated in a group project that dealt with sexuality in congregational leadership. We tried to emphasize both personal reflection and leadership skills in approaching the topic with groups and communities. We tried to encompass a broad range of topics, from violence and repression to morality to education. Jay Johnson, the program coordinator at the Center for Lesbian and Gay Studies in Religion and Ministry, provided a response and his own perspective.
One of my concerns throughout this topic, and in my life, is how to talk about sex without invoking fear - fear of violence, fear from past experience, fear of God's wrath, fear of vulnerability, fear of physical risk (pregnancy, STDs, etc). Jay responded by pointing out that religion itself addresses fear: with hope and faith. Part of Christianity itself is about the impossibly hopeful, the extraordinarily faithful, and the boundlessly loving. Through that, we have courage to face our own vulnerability and model what it means to face death and fear - and maybe more than that, to face life itself. Sex is never safe, and neither is life. Maybe that's a way to start a deep theological reflection about God and sex.
One of my concerns throughout this topic, and in my life, is how to talk about sex without invoking fear - fear of violence, fear from past experience, fear of God's wrath, fear of vulnerability, fear of physical risk (pregnancy, STDs, etc). Jay responded by pointing out that religion itself addresses fear: with hope and faith. Part of Christianity itself is about the impossibly hopeful, the extraordinarily faithful, and the boundlessly loving. Through that, we have courage to face our own vulnerability and model what it means to face death and fear - and maybe more than that, to face life itself. Sex is never safe, and neither is life. Maybe that's a way to start a deep theological reflection about God and sex.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
here's my question of the day
I'm obviously preoccupied by a few things lately. Our church service at East Bay Church of Religious Science was packed and celebratory about the Obama presidency. The sermon reminded us about the power of hope that the duty we all have to live out our potential as human beings. At the end, Rev E compared the Prop 8 vote to childbirth: if you push too hard, you can hurt yourself and the baby. It's time will come, and you will push, and the birth will be easier, she said. It was the right proportion of celebration (and we sang God Bless America, which made a lot of eyes tear up), hope, and exhortation to continue moving.
But here's the new question I have:
What message did Prop 8 send to single-parent families? The implication is that they, too, are illegitimate, not good enough. That makes me sad, too. As my friend Emily wrote on her blog, to the children of gay & lesbian parents in the church in Riverside, CA where she was a youth pastor: "Family is not created by a man and a woman. Family is created by love, period."
But here's the new question I have:
What message did Prop 8 send to single-parent families? The implication is that they, too, are illegitimate, not good enough. That makes me sad, too. As my friend Emily wrote on her blog, to the children of gay & lesbian parents in the church in Riverside, CA where she was a youth pastor: "Family is not created by a man and a woman. Family is created by love, period."
About the NAACP
I forgot to say why I posted that excerpt from the NAACP. I think Alice Huffman made a succinct and incisive distinction between church and state, between morality and legality. I want to keep this in mind as I continue to ponder the intersection between religions (which are political systems) and politics (which are values-based moral systems founded on often-unspoken tenets of faith).
Friday, November 7, 2008
from the California NAACP
Here is an excerpt from the California NAACP's statement in support of same-sex marriage. The statement was about a resolution where the California chapter supported the national organization to mobilize in favor of same-sex marriage. I think this statement also deals very well with the issue of religious/moral view vs. legal concerns.
"According to the 2000 Census, there are over 600,000 same sex couples in the United States of which, 85,000 include at least one African American partner. Of that number more than 3,000 Black couples in the Los Angeles area and another 2,100 in the San Francisco, Oakland, and San Jose area self-identified as same-sex unmarried partners. These people are working, buying homes, paying taxes and, yes, raising families. Many have served their country in the military, and work in their communities as volunteers. I do know that many of the gay people I’ve spoken to are also loving parents and law abiding citizens.
The question of religion beliefs is also raised frequently. There is a separation between civil law and religious doctrine. Religious doctrine is sacred and cannot be legislated. AB 19 makes that point because no clergy is required to perform same sex marriages. Justices of the Peace, judges, legislators, ship captains and others in the secular world will perform civil marriages for gay couples.
While our freedom from slavery was a moral issue we did not win it on moral grounds but on legal interpretation of the US Constitution. The VII Amendment of the Constitution clearly states “To enforce the constitutional right to vote, to confer jurisdiction upon the district courts of the United States to provide injunctive relief against discrimination in public accommodations ….” It was not about the immorality of institutionalized discrimination and the denial of basic civil rights, but because these acts violated the United States Constitution, thus the term “Civil Rights."
by Alice Huffman, from "Why We Support AB 19, The Religious Freedom and Civil Marriage Protection Act
"According to the 2000 Census, there are over 600,000 same sex couples in the United States of which, 85,000 include at least one African American partner. Of that number more than 3,000 Black couples in the Los Angeles area and another 2,100 in the San Francisco, Oakland, and San Jose area self-identified as same-sex unmarried partners. These people are working, buying homes, paying taxes and, yes, raising families. Many have served their country in the military, and work in their communities as volunteers. I do know that many of the gay people I’ve spoken to are also loving parents and law abiding citizens.
The question of religion beliefs is also raised frequently. There is a separation between civil law and religious doctrine. Religious doctrine is sacred and cannot be legislated. AB 19 makes that point because no clergy is required to perform same sex marriages. Justices of the Peace, judges, legislators, ship captains and others in the secular world will perform civil marriages for gay couples.
While our freedom from slavery was a moral issue we did not win it on moral grounds but on legal interpretation of the US Constitution. The VII Amendment of the Constitution clearly states “To enforce the constitutional right to vote, to confer jurisdiction upon the district courts of the United States to provide injunctive relief against discrimination in public accommodations ….” It was not about the immorality of institutionalized discrimination and the denial of basic civil rights, but because these acts violated the United States Constitution, thus the term “Civil Rights."
by Alice Huffman, from "Why We Support AB 19, The Religious Freedom and Civil Marriage Protection Act
Thursday, November 6, 2008
quick note about amendments
Proposition 8 has also illuminated a pretty messed up California Constitution process. I know that in the national Constitution, it takes a 2/3 majority of states to approve a Constitutional Amendment (remember the Equal Rights Amendment battle for women's constitutional equality, anyone?). While I'm sad that amendment never passed (though it seems that quite a few laws have been put in place to ensure a lot of those rights), this seems like a rather healthy way of amending a founding document of the nation.
California's amendment process, however, seems a little crazy. To get something on the ballot, one must collect signatures of 8% of the total number of voters in the last governor's election. And to put an amendment to the Constitution, the amendment must be approved by a simple majority of voters. Which means, as in the case of Prop 8, that an amendment - an addition to the founding document of the state of California - needs approval by slightly more than half of the population (represented by those who vote, which is not necessarily representative in the true sense). So in other words, the California Constitution has at least one amendment that nearly half of the voters of California disagree with. Don't we need a higher standard than that? This is not just a law, but the founding framework of what can be made into law.
California's amendment process, however, seems a little crazy. To get something on the ballot, one must collect signatures of 8% of the total number of voters in the last governor's election. And to put an amendment to the Constitution, the amendment must be approved by a simple majority of voters. Which means, as in the case of Prop 8, that an amendment - an addition to the founding document of the state of California - needs approval by slightly more than half of the population (represented by those who vote, which is not necessarily representative in the true sense). So in other words, the California Constitution has at least one amendment that nearly half of the voters of California disagree with. Don't we need a higher standard than that? This is not just a law, but the founding framework of what can be made into law.
Andrew Sullivan / blaming people of color
My partner got a forward from a friend, which started a war on email. It was an essay by Andrew Sullivan (a libertarian conservative, Roman Catholic gay political columnist who is thoughtful and sharp, but I find him to be way off on many social issues) in which he partly blames the "turnout of Obama voters" for throwing off the Prop 8 election.
Very quickly, part of the aftermath of the Proposition 8 is being framed as Blacks (and people of color) against gays. As I've said before, this is a distraction from the true culprits. I don't deny that some people of color are conservative, and many are religious. Sometimes those things intersect with being gay. But also, many many white people are conservative and religious. Why is it that they are not blame, but only those darn Black people who came out to vote for Obama. In the Bay Area, I've seen a number of prominent Black religious leaders speak against Prop 8. The NAACP came out against it (along with Samuel L. Jackson and Magic Johnson, for those of you who vest your authority in actors and sports figures). Last of all, many of the photos of "Yes on 8" celebrants look like white people to me. The Latter-Day Saints Church, a prominent supporter of the amendment, is largely a white church. I just want to say again that we need to get over this tired cliche of race vs. sexuality - and eventually get over sexuality vs. religion, too. Though that's more complicated.
Anyway, I'm basically just angry that already it's falling out like that. White privilege regularly turns white gay people against people of color, which is maddening.
Very quickly, part of the aftermath of the Proposition 8 is being framed as Blacks (and people of color) against gays. As I've said before, this is a distraction from the true culprits. I don't deny that some people of color are conservative, and many are religious. Sometimes those things intersect with being gay. But also, many many white people are conservative and religious. Why is it that they are not blame, but only those darn Black people who came out to vote for Obama. In the Bay Area, I've seen a number of prominent Black religious leaders speak against Prop 8. The NAACP came out against it (along with Samuel L. Jackson and Magic Johnson, for those of you who vest your authority in actors and sports figures). Last of all, many of the photos of "Yes on 8" celebrants look like white people to me. The Latter-Day Saints Church, a prominent supporter of the amendment, is largely a white church. I just want to say again that we need to get over this tired cliche of race vs. sexuality - and eventually get over sexuality vs. religion, too. Though that's more complicated.
Anyway, I'm basically just angry that already it's falling out like that. White privilege regularly turns white gay people against people of color, which is maddening.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
election reactions / daring to hope
Here are a few reactions to the election:
1. I realized I didn't dare to pin my hopes on Obama becoming president. I didn't trust white people in particular to follow through with voting - the Bradley effect. Bigger than that, I didn't want to pin my hopes that the Bush continuity would be halted by an Obama win. So when it happened - early - and by suprise after Virginia's delegates were in, I was in a sort of elated shock. Was it really happening? And McCain's gracious but a little rambling speech was good to see (compare the crowd of his supporters to the Obama crowd, for example, and the way he seemed to be implying 'this one's for the African-Americans' as if it's not the nation itself who wins by Obama's politics). And yes, I cried during Obama's acceptance speech.
3. I realized that I have four years of prayer and worry ahead, in my concern for Obama's life. I don't trust white supremacists to react nonviolently to something like this - though I do expect the rest of us to point out how wrong they would be, and to protect everyone we love from hatred.
4. I also realized, watching the Obama family on stage, that I'm very excited about Michelle Obama as First Lady. Smart, strong, articulate, tough, independent, stylish...I'm excited to see what her agenda will be, too.
5. I also didn't quite dare to hope, given my familiarity with anti-gay sentiments, that same-sex marriage would really be allowed. Though this morning I felt a little like someone had come into my house and taken our couch, saying "you don't deserve this."
6. I felt reality this morning, after dancing in the streets of Oakland last night. The reality of anti-gay sentiment among many people, especially when it's whipped up by the Yes on 8 campaign's tactics. I feel a little chastened by the reminder, like I was too audacious to think that people wouldn't buy the rhetoric - that prop 8 would mean teachers had to teach about gay marriage (as if the amendment was about an educational curriculum) or that same-sex marriage has a negative impact on heterosexual marriage. Explain to me how my love and commitment to my partner does anything to mess up the love and commitment of my sister and her husband. I don't get it. Their marriage doesn't impact mine, except as I look to their example of 2 people who are in happy and successful married partnership. I feel like I've been put in my place for "daring" to assume that my relationship was not a subject for voter approval. I'm left where I was before the Supreme Court decision - still engaged and planning to marry my partner - but also thinking more carefully about where we can take vacations in California. Where will we face hatred for holding hands in public?
7. I am already tired of the trope that "people of color are specifically motivated to vote for Obama, and are also mostly homophobic, so of course Prop 8 won." I don't have time now, but I want to compare maps of the Prop 8 vote and demographics. It appears to me that the middle counties of California voted in Prop 8, and as far as I know, those are counties with larger white populations. "People of color hate gays" is a cynical manipulation - because some people of color are gay, first of all. I think on deeper analysis, something could be said about the tendency of white Europeans (as colonists) to project characteristics on "natives" that they feel too "civilised" to admit they have. Sexuality being one way it's been done.
Okay, enough for now.
1. I realized I didn't dare to pin my hopes on Obama becoming president. I didn't trust white people in particular to follow through with voting - the Bradley effect. Bigger than that, I didn't want to pin my hopes that the Bush continuity would be halted by an Obama win. So when it happened - early - and by suprise after Virginia's delegates were in, I was in a sort of elated shock. Was it really happening? And McCain's gracious but a little rambling speech was good to see (compare the crowd of his supporters to the Obama crowd, for example, and the way he seemed to be implying 'this one's for the African-Americans' as if it's not the nation itself who wins by Obama's politics). And yes, I cried during Obama's acceptance speech.
3. I realized that I have four years of prayer and worry ahead, in my concern for Obama's life. I don't trust white supremacists to react nonviolently to something like this - though I do expect the rest of us to point out how wrong they would be, and to protect everyone we love from hatred.
4. I also realized, watching the Obama family on stage, that I'm very excited about Michelle Obama as First Lady. Smart, strong, articulate, tough, independent, stylish...I'm excited to see what her agenda will be, too.
5. I also didn't quite dare to hope, given my familiarity with anti-gay sentiments, that same-sex marriage would really be allowed. Though this morning I felt a little like someone had come into my house and taken our couch, saying "you don't deserve this."
6. I felt reality this morning, after dancing in the streets of Oakland last night. The reality of anti-gay sentiment among many people, especially when it's whipped up by the Yes on 8 campaign's tactics. I feel a little chastened by the reminder, like I was too audacious to think that people wouldn't buy the rhetoric - that prop 8 would mean teachers had to teach about gay marriage (as if the amendment was about an educational curriculum) or that same-sex marriage has a negative impact on heterosexual marriage. Explain to me how my love and commitment to my partner does anything to mess up the love and commitment of my sister and her husband. I don't get it. Their marriage doesn't impact mine, except as I look to their example of 2 people who are in happy and successful married partnership. I feel like I've been put in my place for "daring" to assume that my relationship was not a subject for voter approval. I'm left where I was before the Supreme Court decision - still engaged and planning to marry my partner - but also thinking more carefully about where we can take vacations in California. Where will we face hatred for holding hands in public?
7. I am already tired of the trope that "people of color are specifically motivated to vote for Obama, and are also mostly homophobic, so of course Prop 8 won." I don't have time now, but I want to compare maps of the Prop 8 vote and demographics. It appears to me that the middle counties of California voted in Prop 8, and as far as I know, those are counties with larger white populations. "People of color hate gays" is a cynical manipulation - because some people of color are gay, first of all. I think on deeper analysis, something could be said about the tendency of white Europeans (as colonists) to project characteristics on "natives" that they feel too "civilised" to admit they have. Sexuality being one way it's been done.
Okay, enough for now.
Monday, November 3, 2008
referendum on who is my friend
I can't help but feel that Prop 8 has become a sort of referendum on who is my friend.
Obviously, on the surface, that's not what it's about at all, but the implicit message is right there. At the interfaith service against Prop 8, one of the families who gave testimonies said, "When I see a 'No on 8' sign, I know a friend has been here." And in reverse, when I see a "Yes on 8" sign, I feel a little scared. I think "here is someone who doesn't see me." I start wondering about the cars with "Yes on 8" bumperstickers while I'm riding my bike, i wonder if they'd hit me if they knew I was getting married to a man - if they would see me as the same kind of human as they are. It's all there all the time, the people who hate my sexuality and the people who don't care, but this election is bringing it out. It feels like not a referendum about a constitutional amendment but an exercise in subtle homophobia. People who may not have such a strong opinion in favor of heterosexual marriage can find - in the cause against same-sex marriage - a way to vote in their fear/hatred of homosexuality. I guess it's not so different from racism: the subtle racism and cultural conditioning are always there, but when something like an election between a white and a multiracial candidate can come across as a vote for or against the ability of people of color to be President (and aside from people with real disagreements with Obama's politics, I think there is a subsection of voters who are just vaguely uncomfortable with a President of color, or with their perceptions of his suitability). So my feelings are probably not entirely different from a person of color who walks in the world and wonders who is friendly and who believes they are stupid or lazy or whatever stereotype.
It's also a reality check. This is the Bay Area after all, a place where same-sex marriage is conceivable, compared with may places where it is not. It's a reality check that there are many who dislike my sexuality and will go to lengths to make that dislike concrete in the legal system (and some who will go so far as to commit violence - physical, verbal, and otherwise - to make their point clear). I do know that if Prop 8 passes, I will feel more unsafe doing my everyday things - more unsafe walking around, getting groceries, going to a movie with my partner, holding his hand. It's funny how it's not "just" an election on so many levels. It's gut-personal, and the anxiety levels are skyrocketing.
Obviously, on the surface, that's not what it's about at all, but the implicit message is right there. At the interfaith service against Prop 8, one of the families who gave testimonies said, "When I see a 'No on 8' sign, I know a friend has been here." And in reverse, when I see a "Yes on 8" sign, I feel a little scared. I think "here is someone who doesn't see me." I start wondering about the cars with "Yes on 8" bumperstickers while I'm riding my bike, i wonder if they'd hit me if they knew I was getting married to a man - if they would see me as the same kind of human as they are. It's all there all the time, the people who hate my sexuality and the people who don't care, but this election is bringing it out. It feels like not a referendum about a constitutional amendment but an exercise in subtle homophobia. People who may not have such a strong opinion in favor of heterosexual marriage can find - in the cause against same-sex marriage - a way to vote in their fear/hatred of homosexuality. I guess it's not so different from racism: the subtle racism and cultural conditioning are always there, but when something like an election between a white and a multiracial candidate can come across as a vote for or against the ability of people of color to be President (and aside from people with real disagreements with Obama's politics, I think there is a subsection of voters who are just vaguely uncomfortable with a President of color, or with their perceptions of his suitability). So my feelings are probably not entirely different from a person of color who walks in the world and wonders who is friendly and who believes they are stupid or lazy or whatever stereotype.
It's also a reality check. This is the Bay Area after all, a place where same-sex marriage is conceivable, compared with may places where it is not. It's a reality check that there are many who dislike my sexuality and will go to lengths to make that dislike concrete in the legal system (and some who will go so far as to commit violence - physical, verbal, and otherwise - to make their point clear). I do know that if Prop 8 passes, I will feel more unsafe doing my everyday things - more unsafe walking around, getting groceries, going to a movie with my partner, holding his hand. It's funny how it's not "just" an election on so many levels. It's gut-personal, and the anxiety levels are skyrocketing.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Muslim is the new gay
Yesterday I attended a "No on 8" church service. (Prop 8, as I'm sure you've heard, is a California constitutional amendment saying "marriage is only between a man and a woman" - and whether or not someone believes homosexuality is acceptable, I think it should be unacceptable in a democracy to write something like that into the constitution. Not only is it a removal of rights (instead of constitutional amendments to expand rights, which is more democractic), but it puts a moral code - one that does not represent the diversity of moral codes that exist among the citizens of California - into law. It's the opposite of what democracy is about).
At any rate, just after the service, I worked on some readings for my "Remembering" class. The topic was 9/11 and cultural and social (theological, liturgical, ritual) acts of memorializing, remembering, and telling the story of what happened. It occurred to me, relating my memory of the ways we talked about it in 2001 and continue to refer to it in some national narratives today, that "Muslim" is the new "gay." By that I mean that Muslim is the new epithet to say that someone or something is bad, even though the literal meaning of the word is untrue -- Barack Obama being the most famous example of this. Just like when people used to (and still do) say "that's so gay" when they mean something is unfair, uncool, or stupid. And what about the people who are gay and Muslim?
Okay, so it's not a perfect analogy, but I think it still applies. Why is it that Islam somehow has come to connote untrustworthiness? Part of it is the mistaken notion of "clash of civilizations," that somehow Islam in the Middle East is completely different from Western Christianity (when in fact they originate in the same place). And part of it is the perceived difference between white and brown (though Arab and Euro are both considered Caucasian in the outdated racial classification systems used by the US Census - and in fact Caucasian comes form the Caucasus mountains which are in western Asia, making the whole thing a bit more laughable). And I don't know this for sure, but probably some of it is retained from black-white racial struggle, which involved Black American Muslims and Afro-centric Black Power movements that rejected Christianity as the religion of slave-owners and oppressors.
But here's a reality check: Muslims are part of America. As Colin Powell pointed out so well, Muslims (along with Christians, atheists, Jews, pagans, gays, and more) enlist in the Army. We also built this country together, as citizens and immigrants and laborers and store owners. I'm tired of the division. My challenge is now to do something about it.
I remember the first time I really sat down and talked with a Muslim person (I think I blogged about it - a Black American Muslim veteran at a homeless shelter). I learned that the interweaving of his spirituality and life were not so different from mine. It's overdue time to get real and stop writing off categories of people negatively (including, for me, evangelicals and conservatives). Yesterday at the interfaith "no on 8" service, Jana Drakka (a Buddhist monk whom I greatly admire) quoted Thich Nhat Hanh's "Call Me By My True Names." He points out that "I" am all of us. It is an illusion, a mistake, an act of violence, to separate completely into "us" and "them."
At any rate, just after the service, I worked on some readings for my "Remembering" class. The topic was 9/11 and cultural and social (theological, liturgical, ritual) acts of memorializing, remembering, and telling the story of what happened. It occurred to me, relating my memory of the ways we talked about it in 2001 and continue to refer to it in some national narratives today, that "Muslim" is the new "gay." By that I mean that Muslim is the new epithet to say that someone or something is bad, even though the literal meaning of the word is untrue -- Barack Obama being the most famous example of this. Just like when people used to (and still do) say "that's so gay" when they mean something is unfair, uncool, or stupid. And what about the people who are gay and Muslim?
Okay, so it's not a perfect analogy, but I think it still applies. Why is it that Islam somehow has come to connote untrustworthiness? Part of it is the mistaken notion of "clash of civilizations," that somehow Islam in the Middle East is completely different from Western Christianity (when in fact they originate in the same place). And part of it is the perceived difference between white and brown (though Arab and Euro are both considered Caucasian in the outdated racial classification systems used by the US Census - and in fact Caucasian comes form the Caucasus mountains which are in western Asia, making the whole thing a bit more laughable). And I don't know this for sure, but probably some of it is retained from black-white racial struggle, which involved Black American Muslims and Afro-centric Black Power movements that rejected Christianity as the religion of slave-owners and oppressors.
But here's a reality check: Muslims are part of America. As Colin Powell pointed out so well, Muslims (along with Christians, atheists, Jews, pagans, gays, and more) enlist in the Army. We also built this country together, as citizens and immigrants and laborers and store owners. I'm tired of the division. My challenge is now to do something about it.
I remember the first time I really sat down and talked with a Muslim person (I think I blogged about it - a Black American Muslim veteran at a homeless shelter). I learned that the interweaving of his spirituality and life were not so different from mine. It's overdue time to get real and stop writing off categories of people negatively (including, for me, evangelicals and conservatives). Yesterday at the interfaith "no on 8" service, Jana Drakka (a Buddhist monk whom I greatly admire) quoted Thich Nhat Hanh's "Call Me By My True Names." He points out that "I" am all of us. It is an illusion, a mistake, an act of violence, to separate completely into "us" and "them."
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