This evening in my white anti-racist covenant group, we watched a documentary called "White Shamans and Plastic Medicine Men." I was a film by Native Voices Public Television, a Montana-based project. It was an examination of white people who practice versions of Native American spiritual practices - like vision quests, drum circles, medicine wheels, etc. It was a mix of interviews of these white people and of Native Americans. The Native Americans basically said that their religions are historical/cultural/lifestyles and cannot be borrowed or broken and sold into pieces (at least not if they will maintain their spiritual integrity and power). One must life in it, inherit ancestral memory, be raised in it, if one can practice it truly. One must be chosen by the religion to be a shaman.
It brought up a few interesting questions: who "owns" a religion or spiritual practice? what is cultural appropriation as compared to shifting culture? what can be said of the real, felt spiritual experiences these white people have when they take Native American practices out of context? Why do these people feel "hurt" when confronted with questions about cultural appropriation - as opposed to be grateful for a new perspective on a spiritual tradition they claim to respect? Where is the "line" about what's acceptable use of cultural stuff that isn't my own, and what's cultural appropriation? Why do some people feed their spiritual need by taking from other traditions instead of exploring their own?
I don't know...
Actually, that's not what I want to write about at all. What I want to write about is why someone insists on yelling "faggots" in downtown Berkeley while we walk down the street and hold hands. This person yelled it twice when we passed him, again when we went back to the car because my partner forgot something. And a third time when we passed him again, yelled "what the fuck?" and yelled "faggots" again at us. From his seat on a bench on the sidewalk - this was not a crazy person. It was a strange experience. We didn't feel threatened, and we didn't feel like it was worth responding. But there was still that twinge, that urge to duck and hide, as if it's shameful. We are lucky we live in a place where we didn't feel a particular threat, and we mostly felt sorry for this high schooler who obviously had some anger or some kind of issue that needed to be worked out.
It's funny to accumulate experiences of hateful words being thrown at us. Strange to be reminded that we're "supposed" to be ashamed. Lucky that we feel mostly safe together.
Hm...what was it my mom used to say when I got teased in school? "They're just jealous."
Maybe that's what I should think - he's jealous he doesn't get to love and be loved like we do.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
i would tend to agree on the jealousy thing, actually. i hadn't looked at it that way before you mentioned it, but that does make sense. i also tend to think that people who are threatened by queer love are just not comfortable in their own sexuality. and sometimes, i know that people behave this way AGAINST what they truly believe (or would believe if they just stayed true to themselves), but put on a front or peers. probably not the whole issue, but just some thoughts...
i also wanted to comment on your first subject. i just wanted to share that the only times i have ever felt a spiritual connection or felt "moved" spiritually by a ritual or tradition, have been when involved in Native American Pow Wows or African drum circles. and, as you know, i am white, and was raised in traditional white Lutheran culture. fortunately, my experiences have been that the friends i have met who practice these faiths have been happy to share with me. then again, i have never tried to be more than a "guest" or claim it as my own.
Post a Comment