GTU Black Seminarians is circulating a statement, and PSR has finally started a forum to begin to address the role of religious leaders in relation to the Oscar Grant murder. Here it is:
http://www.psr.edu/questions/what-role-seminary-or-local-church-when-incident-such-oscar-grant-slaying-occurs#comment-221
[PS - read EJoye's comments in reply to my previous post as well.]
Friday, January 30, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Starting to muse about the Oscar Grant murder
Today I was involved in multiple conversations about how my school, PSR will respond to the Oscar Grand shooting. I hope they will -- as religious leaders, we must engage in events that happen in our communities (especially after the wonderful precedent they set by publishing a statement officially against Prop 8!).
Here's the state of my thoughts today.
Stuff like this continues to happen. No matter what happened in the actual event - whether it was racially motivated or not - it falls into a long-standing trend of white officers shooting unarmed Black men. It matters that the officer was white and the murdered man was black, unarmed, and vulnerable. While I don't condone violence, and find it sad that protests that turn violent unfairly impact poor communities, I get why people are angry and upset in Oakland.
Stuff like this will continue to happen as long as we live in a society where racism is ignored by those of us in power & privilege. I was at a reception the other day, and I did something that was thoughtless and a little bit rude to a Black man. Reflecting on it later, I realize that if he doesn't know me (or even if he does), he probably wonders what kind of racist stereotypes I have of him. Just like Officer Mehserle, I was the racist of that moment, no matter what my intentions were. This is the same as the way I am a potential rapist in the eyes of women who don't know me, especially when I walk to school on deserted streets or at dusk. Because some men rape, and because some white people are violently racist, I am potentially a violent, racist rapist. If the justice & fairness issue alone doesn't motivate me, this should. It feels a little like luck of the draw. The impact of Officer Mehserle's actions make him the bearer not only of the responsibility of what he did, but the bearer of responsibility for all those officers who shot unarmed Black men and were acquitted or slapped on the wrist. Who knows but that something I do unintentionally has a racist or sexist impact? Until we change the system, this kind of stuff will happen. As white people, we are at risk until we educate ourselves, talk with each other, and change the way our world runs.
I see a lot of parallels in what I used to teach about sexism: if I don't stand up as a man among men who make sexist jokes, I contribute to a culture that implies permission to sexually assault a woman. if I don't stand up as a white guy among white folks who enact, benefit from, and ignore racism, I contribute to a culture that implies permission to assault, murder, exploit, etc people of color.
Let's see, what's the theological angle on this? I certainly believe God's desire is for justice. According to the tradition, God became human -- and what did Jesus do? Did he go out hang out with all the governors and religious leaders? Did he ask servants to feed him grapes while he wrote the sermon on the mount? Did he go find sinners, handcuff them, and shoot them? Actually, I think he served others. He spoke about kindness and brought people back from alienation. Anyone else want to weigh in on this?
Here's the state of my thoughts today.
Stuff like this continues to happen. No matter what happened in the actual event - whether it was racially motivated or not - it falls into a long-standing trend of white officers shooting unarmed Black men. It matters that the officer was white and the murdered man was black, unarmed, and vulnerable. While I don't condone violence, and find it sad that protests that turn violent unfairly impact poor communities, I get why people are angry and upset in Oakland.
Stuff like this will continue to happen as long as we live in a society where racism is ignored by those of us in power & privilege. I was at a reception the other day, and I did something that was thoughtless and a little bit rude to a Black man. Reflecting on it later, I realize that if he doesn't know me (or even if he does), he probably wonders what kind of racist stereotypes I have of him. Just like Officer Mehserle, I was the racist of that moment, no matter what my intentions were. This is the same as the way I am a potential rapist in the eyes of women who don't know me, especially when I walk to school on deserted streets or at dusk. Because some men rape, and because some white people are violently racist, I am potentially a violent, racist rapist. If the justice & fairness issue alone doesn't motivate me, this should. It feels a little like luck of the draw. The impact of Officer Mehserle's actions make him the bearer not only of the responsibility of what he did, but the bearer of responsibility for all those officers who shot unarmed Black men and were acquitted or slapped on the wrist. Who knows but that something I do unintentionally has a racist or sexist impact? Until we change the system, this kind of stuff will happen. As white people, we are at risk until we educate ourselves, talk with each other, and change the way our world runs.
I see a lot of parallels in what I used to teach about sexism: if I don't stand up as a man among men who make sexist jokes, I contribute to a culture that implies permission to sexually assault a woman. if I don't stand up as a white guy among white folks who enact, benefit from, and ignore racism, I contribute to a culture that implies permission to assault, murder, exploit, etc people of color.
Let's see, what's the theological angle on this? I certainly believe God's desire is for justice. According to the tradition, God became human -- and what did Jesus do? Did he go out hang out with all the governors and religious leaders? Did he ask servants to feed him grapes while he wrote the sermon on the mount? Did he go find sinners, handcuff them, and shoot them? Actually, I think he served others. He spoke about kindness and brought people back from alienation. Anyone else want to weigh in on this?
Don't Go Hating the Vagina Monologues
The Clare Boothe Luce Project is spreading lies about the Vagina Monologues. I saw my first production in 1999, and it transformed the way I understood the impacts of violence against women and girls. I was moved to tears and to laughter, and sometimes made uncomfortable by women speaking in their own voices about their own bodies and their place in the world. It opened my eyes and transformed how I understood my mom's and my sister's and my friends' lives - and even my own. My friend Anna, a Methodist pastor in Iowa, wrote a response because some of her parishioners brought it to her attention. Read about it here:
http://akbsviapositiva.blogspot.com/
http://akbsviapositiva.blogspot.com/
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
research assistantship / voices
Yesterday I got asked to help do some research for a faculty member this semester. So you might be reading more about the following topics:
- The role of ritual in pastoral care and healing (for a pastoral care class in the fall)
- The role of religion and spirituality in theories of violence and nonviolence (for a long-term research project)
This stuff falls pretty well into my areas of interest (the spiritual care and healing aspects, and the roles of religion in violence and in social movements).
In the meantime, I'm also looking forward to a getaway to LA soon, to see my college friend Erica Brookhyser sing with the LA Opera. I know nothing about the world of opera, but it holds some kind of glamorous appeal in my head, and I'm proud to be connected to someone with such a rich, warm, and stunning voice. Come to think of it, I have lots of friends with rich, stunning voices - whether in sound, poetry, prose, or opinion. That's kinda cool.
- The role of ritual in pastoral care and healing (for a pastoral care class in the fall)
- The role of religion and spirituality in theories of violence and nonviolence (for a long-term research project)
This stuff falls pretty well into my areas of interest (the spiritual care and healing aspects, and the roles of religion in violence and in social movements).
In the meantime, I'm also looking forward to a getaway to LA soon, to see my college friend Erica Brookhyser sing with the LA Opera. I know nothing about the world of opera, but it holds some kind of glamorous appeal in my head, and I'm proud to be connected to someone with such a rich, warm, and stunning voice. Come to think of it, I have lots of friends with rich, stunning voices - whether in sound, poetry, prose, or opinion. That's kinda cool.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
back from Kentucky and a few thoughts
I got back from Kentucky late on Tuesday night. It was a great trip with a lot to work through on issues of healthcare, economics, and religion. It was also hard for my partner and me to be away from each other for so long. I find that I function better when I have our relationship to connect me.
Here are a few other thoughts that come to mind as I work through what I learned:
- Surprisingly, the situation was not far from what I grew up with. I recognized how people understood community and family, and I related to the economics of the rural areas (despite the difference between agricultural/small industrial Kansas and coal-mining/tobacco-farming Kentucky). I also recognized the stereotypes from outside (and of outside). Last of all, I was reminded that I myself am part of the brain drain. I left Kansas to get away, got educated, and never returned. Some variation on a theme of exile, but not exactly. I recognize the need, and somewhere inside me, the desire, to return to where I came from - if nothing else, to represent a different point of view. It motivates me to find something more solid in my commitment to a community here in the Bay Area.
- I was struck by the fact that most healthcare access and poverty alleviation programs were run by women. The theory is that there is a strong matriarchy of grannies - older women who know a lot, organize, and get things done. We met some amazing women doing amazing work.
- Not only were these women organized and sharp, but often ventured on their own to address poverty - dragging their reluctant churches with them only later. It reminded me of my own convictions about the purpose of religion: to care for each other. Religion, in the end, is nothing if it doesn't connect people together. Sure personal spirituality is a component, but nurturing the person is a component of a bigger sense of caring for each other.
I guess that's it for the moment. I got reconnected with a friend from college who is studying rural sociology, who gave me a lot to think about in relation to stereotyping and "metrocentricity," the idea that perspectives, analysis, and values presume that the city is the standard by which everything is judged. Reminds me of feminist criticism of medical studies that hold men as the standard against which women are measured. Hm.
Here are a few other thoughts that come to mind as I work through what I learned:
- Surprisingly, the situation was not far from what I grew up with. I recognized how people understood community and family, and I related to the economics of the rural areas (despite the difference between agricultural/small industrial Kansas and coal-mining/tobacco-farming Kentucky). I also recognized the stereotypes from outside (and of outside). Last of all, I was reminded that I myself am part of the brain drain. I left Kansas to get away, got educated, and never returned. Some variation on a theme of exile, but not exactly. I recognize the need, and somewhere inside me, the desire, to return to where I came from - if nothing else, to represent a different point of view. It motivates me to find something more solid in my commitment to a community here in the Bay Area.
- I was struck by the fact that most healthcare access and poverty alleviation programs were run by women. The theory is that there is a strong matriarchy of grannies - older women who know a lot, organize, and get things done. We met some amazing women doing amazing work.
- Not only were these women organized and sharp, but often ventured on their own to address poverty - dragging their reluctant churches with them only later. It reminded me of my own convictions about the purpose of religion: to care for each other. Religion, in the end, is nothing if it doesn't connect people together. Sure personal spirituality is a component, but nurturing the person is a component of a bigger sense of caring for each other.
I guess that's it for the moment. I got reconnected with a friend from college who is studying rural sociology, who gave me a lot to think about in relation to stereotyping and "metrocentricity," the idea that perspectives, analysis, and values presume that the city is the standard by which everything is judged. Reminds me of feminist criticism of medical studies that hold men as the standard against which women are measured. Hm.
Monday, January 5, 2009
crash / kentucky
I'm finishing up some loose ends and packing before I head to a class on Faith Health and Economics in Appalachia - so my blog will probably be silent for a few days. But before I get too busy, I wanted to try to keep my weekly commitment to writing.
Last night we watched the movie Crash. Aside from the drama of so much happening to so few people in two days' time, much of what the film depicted seemed to highlight the attitudes and experiences of ordinary people living in the US. While the action may have been heightened, the attitudes were recognizable to me. I was particularly struck by the illusions that the characters operated under - or maybe I'd call them delusions about themselves and prejudiced stereotypes they had about others. The police officer played by Ryan Phillipe for example, saw himself as a 'good guy' savior type, and he reacted angrily when he wasn't given the accolades he believed he deserved. Or the auto thief played by Chris Bridges/Ludacris, who gets oppression on a theoretical level but doesn't necessarily see his own place in the mix - and who 'liberates' refugees without really grasping how to do so effectively. I was also deeply struck by the way pain was passed around - I wanted to draw a diagram of how bad treatment by one gets translated into badly treating someone else - a classic cycle of violence where victimhood and perpetration feed each other. Of course I particularly noticed the attitudes, language, and reasoning of the white characters - who seemed to acknowledge racism and injustice with one side of their mouths but twisting the logic and reality of oppression into token opportunities for advancement without restructuring the social frameworks and attitudes that lead to it. Like my friend Emily said yesterday - a particular brand of amnesia that white people use to forget about our history of racism. Last of all, I was thinking about salvation and redemption: it was a hard question, and I think the larger message is that the universe randomly assigns opportunities and dead ends. But individually, there were moments (of high drama, yes) that seemed to catalyze new realizations - but I wondered how much the were realizations rather than new illusions. Sandra Bullock's character, for example, realizes "I am angry all the time," and then sees her housekeeper as "my only real friend," re-caricature-ing but not liberating her relationship with her employee. In relation to this, I consider the theme: maybe we just crash into each other seeking human touch and human interaction. The message I took was that even when we crash into each other - unless it is violent enough to knock us into a new sense of the world - we fail to touch because our illusions (about ourselves and each other) bounce off each other like beach balls. Even religion and ideology (as tokens and words) cannot fully disrupt the cycle. It leaves me wondering what can.
Last night we watched the movie Crash. Aside from the drama of so much happening to so few people in two days' time, much of what the film depicted seemed to highlight the attitudes and experiences of ordinary people living in the US. While the action may have been heightened, the attitudes were recognizable to me. I was particularly struck by the illusions that the characters operated under - or maybe I'd call them delusions about themselves and prejudiced stereotypes they had about others. The police officer played by Ryan Phillipe for example, saw himself as a 'good guy' savior type, and he reacted angrily when he wasn't given the accolades he believed he deserved. Or the auto thief played by Chris Bridges/Ludacris, who gets oppression on a theoretical level but doesn't necessarily see his own place in the mix - and who 'liberates' refugees without really grasping how to do so effectively. I was also deeply struck by the way pain was passed around - I wanted to draw a diagram of how bad treatment by one gets translated into badly treating someone else - a classic cycle of violence where victimhood and perpetration feed each other. Of course I particularly noticed the attitudes, language, and reasoning of the white characters - who seemed to acknowledge racism and injustice with one side of their mouths but twisting the logic and reality of oppression into token opportunities for advancement without restructuring the social frameworks and attitudes that lead to it. Like my friend Emily said yesterday - a particular brand of amnesia that white people use to forget about our history of racism. Last of all, I was thinking about salvation and redemption: it was a hard question, and I think the larger message is that the universe randomly assigns opportunities and dead ends. But individually, there were moments (of high drama, yes) that seemed to catalyze new realizations - but I wondered how much the were realizations rather than new illusions. Sandra Bullock's character, for example, realizes "I am angry all the time," and then sees her housekeeper as "my only real friend," re-caricature-ing but not liberating her relationship with her employee. In relation to this, I consider the theme: maybe we just crash into each other seeking human touch and human interaction. The message I took was that even when we crash into each other - unless it is violent enough to knock us into a new sense of the world - we fail to touch because our illusions (about ourselves and each other) bounce off each other like beach balls. Even religion and ideology (as tokens and words) cannot fully disrupt the cycle. It leaves me wondering what can.
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