Monday, August 11, 2014

Reflections, 11 August 2014



I found it interesting (from a position of social analysis) and disheartening that the death of a celebrity secondary to mental illness temporarily overshadowed news coverage of the murder of an unarmed teenage boy by a representative of the local government.
Many systems of oppression and power are at play on each situation: on the one, celebrity, addiction, and the stigmatization of mental illness. On the other, privilege, racism, profiling, the inherent discrimination of stop-and-frisk, and the undeniable escalation of violence in areas of lower socioeconomic status. These two tragedies--for this is what they rightly are--display different levels of oppression and ostracization within the same nation.
They should not be compared, or one used to edge the other out of headlines, but both considered and given their time. People are hurting, and to diminish the hurt of a fellow human being because it is not the hurt you are feeling is disrespectful and inappropriate. I find it intolerable to insult the memory of the community around the victim of one tragedy simply because awareness is being raised about a community surrounding the victim of another.
I find it troubling that the murder of an unknown unarmed black male teenager was ignored in the news media to cover, in a sensationalist fashion, the death due to mental illness of a white male celebrity.  I find it equally troubling that the memory of the white male celebrity is disrespected as a result of the news media's failure to follow up on the story of the black male teenager.
Overt action is not required to impugn the memory of the black male teenager. It has already been disrespected by being covered up by sensationalist celebrity news coverage. This is unacceptable in a society founded on the belief that all are created equal, and daily it is more apparent to me that that is not true in this nation. This is not a new realization; however, it has been demonstrated to me in the last week in a blatant fashion across social media outlets and selected news coverage sources.
I am committed to work for the system to change. But it takes all of us to change a system that unfairly impugns a tragedy to highlight another. This is why I am in graduate school, this is why I participate and activist work, and this is why I believe it in a radical love for all people. I ask you to recognize the spark of the divine, God, or whatever beliefs system you subscribe to, that is inherent in each human being by virtue of their very being.
We are equal (if not in the eyes of the government, at least in the eyes of the Divine).
We are worthy of notice.
We are deserving of love: we have been loved it since before we understood what love was.
For me, all of these things begin and end it at the principle of radical love. I have love for you, my neighbor; I have love for you, person who does not agree with me; I have love for those I have not ever met; for these are all my neighbor.
It is as important to combat the stigma against mental illness in this country as it is to combat police discrimination and racial profiling that is the direct cause of the death of unarmed and innocent black men. Both of these systems perpetuate death.
The farcical great American melting pot is threatening to boil over. Instead of making us all one, the melting pot erases what makes us different in favor of a narrative that eliminates diversity from being a value, and it stigmatizes anything that does not look white, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant, heterosexual, and middle-class.
Deep wounds have been reopened, scabs picked until they seep, new gashes ripped over fresh scars.
I ask you to treat one another gently, with compassion and grace.  Please do not forget that we each carry our own burdens, emotional and physical; as well as the emotional and physical repercussions of past and current events on the local, national, and international stages (why aren't we hearing more about ISIS, re-militarization of Iraq, folks evacuating Syria, debt crises in South America, how many innocent civilians died today across the world?).  We cannot guess the sum total of what each person carries within him/her/theirself by scanning their clothing, posture, skin color, and gender expression. 
I commit myself to seeing you as a person first, loved and loving.  I commit myself to expanding my love to work against systems that perpetuate oppression of and discrimination against my neighbors who don’t look or behave like me.  Would you do the same?


Sunday, May 18, 2014

The kin-dom of God, as experienced in North Carolina



On a trip to Asheville in early May, we stopped and experienced the drum circle that is a standing tradition on Friday nights. Visitors and residents alike sit, stand, dance, play, and embody what it means to be alive and truly free.  This is the Kin-dom of God: open and embracing all who come regardless of their appearance, beliefs, or who they love.  The little children also came: they moved to the beat, or against the beat, or in syncopated half-steps that matched only the rhythm of their hearts.  This is what it means to be a participant in the Kin-dom: smile, dance, wave, welcome new arrivals with open hearts and open arms.  After a couple moments of watching, I couldn't help but move in tandem with the drums and let my own heart's rhythm let me fold myself into the music.  
I wanted to stay in that spot, swaying back and forth, forever.  To watch the men, women, non-gender-conforming/non-label-claiming folks, and children dance, skitter, embrace, and throw their heads back in divinely joyful laughter.  Genuine expression, warm hospitality, a welcome into the rhythm of shared life in the drum circle: this is the life I strive to live, the way I want to dance, the welcome I seek to extend to all I meet.
The drum circle reminded me that God is truly all around, everywhere, inside of each of us.  How else could we respond to the beat of a drum, the beats of a hundred drums, with a sparkle in our eyes and a willing movement in our steps, smiling at each and every manifestation of the God Who Dances With Us?  The drum circle reminded me to look at every person as if she/he/they are God, for they truly are: they are made in God's image, out of the love of God, intended to live out that love in all that they do.  So now, when I'm feeling sad or downtrodden, I simply look at people--that stunning array that shows us only a fraction of who God is, was, and can be for us.  The God who is texting everyone the photos of the drum circle in progress, right next to the God dancing with Her child while wearing a pink fuzzy top hat, immediately in front of the God who embraces His dancing partner as they together move to their unique rhythms, to the left of the God embodied in the movement of God's children who smile and laugh as if they know no pain.
But we all know pain: the drum circle's magic is that everyone brings who they are into the circle.  Their abilities, their different capacities for love and relationship and physical engagement, their needs and desires and wants, their joy and their aching hearts.  No baggage is unwelcome and no baggage is left behind.  God is big enough to hold all of it, God welcomes us and embraces us just as we are--whether you've got a matched set of leather valises or a dusty, world-worn duffel bag full to bursting.  God is big enough to stretch out God's (anthropomorphized) hand past where we are told that God ends, past our hurts and joys and pains, past the horizons of our imaginations.  
This is why, for me, God can only be (more) fully experienced in community (I would argue that we cannot experience the true fullness of God and live).  Without the presence of others, others made in the image of God, how can we truly know what it means to have faith in ourselves, faith in each other, faith in the future?
Today I am thankful for those shared moments in the drum circle, the moments in which I saw God, praised God, and danced with God in community.