From time to time, I think about being a woman. For better or for worse, I grew up in a pretty egalitarian house. Growing up, I never got the sense from my parents that anything was off limits to me as a woman. In fact, in terms of balancing power, my parents offered my sister and I a pretty equal voice in everything. This had its good and bad sides. The good side: my sister and I were taught that we had a voice and it was valuable. Our voices were meant to be used. The bad side? We were essentially treated like mini-adults and it was difficult to differentiate roles at times.

It wasn’t until I got to high school and later in college that I started to get concrete gender messages about roles, relationships and expectations that increasingly were framed in “biblical terms.” As someone who has strong spiritual and intellectual gifts – and not yet a desire to enter into motherhood – this prompted quite a bit of confusion. Ironically, I feel a lot less of this pressure living in Texas than in Seattle. I’m not exactly sure why. I have a few theories. 1) It is so assumed that it’s not really contested. 2) I don’t feel bound by the rules of the culture so I don’t feel pressure to conform 3) I’m really grounded in my own sense of calling and self as a child of God. I also think that the environment of Seattle lends itself to theological extremes.

I used to feel very threatened by different perspectives on gender and roles, but these days it hardly comes up anymore. I know where I am at, and even better, Than and I have both come to a similar place on the issue through dialogue and independently. I’ve also learned to accept and appreciate if other women and couples have chosen a different model for their own selves and relationships. Instead of starting from a place of fear and suspicion, I choose to give them the benefit of the doubt and trust that they are equally seeking to live out their vocations and God’s calling in their lives.

Some people really like and need to have definite categories and roles – I’m much more open ended and tend to have a shared perspective on roles and power. In fact, I tend to view most relationships as egalitarian; I automatically view myself as a colleague, partner, co-collaborator with those in positions of power above me and I expect that I and others will be treated as such. This probably goes back to my family structure. I know this has its weaknesses and downsides, but it has also informed my strong ethic of making sure all voices are heard and working to create dialogical space for silenced and marginalized voices within institutions.

Every now and then I realize not everyone operates under the same set of assumptions as me, especially when structures are automatically imposed on me or my voice is inherently denied. All of a sudden I realize, oh yeah, I am a woman. When a work meeting starts and I know I won’t be asked to pray -- I am a woman. When I research graduate schools and realize that 95% of the scholars I want to study under are men, I know I am a woman. When I’m asked to bring snacks to an office meeting and none of my male colleagues are asked… yep, I’m a woman.

Most of the time, I operate under the assumption of gender equality, but then I start thinking about it and these little things really add up. Why are there so fewer prominent female writers, thinkers, scholars, activists, and theologians? I can’t deny that most of my models are men. I know there are women out there doing all of these things, but they just are not given the same level of visibility. And yet I feel called to be a writer, thinker, scholar, activist, theologian.

I’m not an "ambitious career woman", I’m just trying to use the gifts God has given me and steward the passions God has placed in my heart. I’m not opposed to families and motherhood, yet I’m highly self-conscious that I will be perceived as such. I wonder how often men worry that they will be perceived this way as a result of their vocational pursuits?

a tale of two mothers

I have been following the story of Rebecca and Alice Walker for a few months now after I first heard about Rebecca’s new book Baby Love: Choosing Motherhood After a Lifetime of Ambivalence. Rebecca Walker is the daughter of celebrated author and feminist Alice Walker.

Rebecca has published often about their conflicted mother/daughter relationship and the role feminism played in this relationship. I find her reflections fascinating:

My mum taught me that children enslave women. I grew up believing that children are millstones around your neck, and the idea that motherhood can make you blissfully happy is a complete fairytale.

In fact, having a child has been the most rewarding experience of my life. Far from 'enslaving' me, three-and-a-half-year-old Tenzin has opened my world. My only regret is that I discovered the joys of motherhood so late - I have been trying for a second child for two years, but so far with no luck.

I was raised to believe that women need men like a fish needs a bicycle. But I strongly feel children need two parents and the thought of raising Tenzin without my partner, Glen, 52, would be terrifying.

As the child of divorced parents, I know only too well the painful consequences of being brought up in those circumstances. Feminism has much to answer for denigrating men and encouraging women to seek independence whatever the cost to their families.

My mother's feminist principles coloured every aspect of my life. As a little girl, I wasn't even allowed to play with dolls or stuffed toys in case they brought out a maternal instinct. It was drummed into me that being a mother, raising children and running a home were a form of slavery. Having a career, traveling the world and being independent were what really mattered according to her.

I love my mother very much, but I haven't seen her or spoken to her since I became pregnant. She has never seen my son - her only grandchild. My crime? Daring to question her ideology.

Read the full article here.

While I don’t identify yet with Rebecca’s longings to be a mother, I respect her journey. Her story brings to mind the painful reality that sometimes the people who champion civil rights and emerge as social heroes are failures in the private sphere.

I am moved by how Rebecca has dared to venture into territory that would be considered taboo to some: motherhood and family building. She has done it with grace and grit. Rebecca identifies as a “third-wave” feminist who is responding to the radical feminism of the 1960s. Now, 40 years later, I think she is right in her call to assess what second wave feminism has and has not accomplished.

I know this will step on the toes of many feminists. It’s a delicate balance. Alice Walker should rightly be recognized for her many accomplishments. At the same time, Rebecca Walker should be able to tell her story and own her experience as a daughter, a mother, a woman, and a feminist in her own right. However, I recognize that her story is not the whole story. Her journey is no less the “right way” as the way of radical feminism is, but to the extent that it has brought her peace, joy, and healing, I applaud this. This is exactly what the women and feminists before her were seeking in their own unique ways as they fought for the right to make a choice about their own bodies and lives. Radical feminists should be willing to let go of their monopoly on choice and respect the fact that motherhood and loving committed relationship can also be an empowered choice.

I feel privileged to have seen so many models of this as couples navigate the tricky waters of family and vocation. The variety of journeys and models are endless. Because of this, a huge debt is owed to the feminists before us who liberated us from the ideology that there is only one way: the traditional family. The fact they that these same feminists now resent how younger women are putting this into practice saddens me. The evil has always been abuse of power and essentializing models that don’t take into account unique personhood and partnership. The evil is not children, is not men, is not marriage, etc. To the extent that these are regarded as evil or diminished, we deny ourselves the true joy of relationship, mutuality, life, regeneration, and creation.

So, I wish the best to Rebecca Walker and her family. I also pray for reconciliation and healing between Rebecca and Alice. I hope that some day another chapter will be added to this story.

a purity ball

Dancing the Night Away, With a Higher Purpose - New York Times

The article itself is enough to make my stomach turn. Anyone familiar with the Christian sex cult will probably be familiar with the terminology and premise of the "purity ball." To be fair, there are some valid points, and I trust that the intentions are good, though perhaps a bit disconnected from the more complex realities of sex and the soul. Because of my own history and background, the rhetoric will always strike a raw never with me: I pledge "before God to cover my daughter as her authority and protection in the area of purity.” Psychoanalysis aside, I realize that there are many different opinions on this issue depending on which perspective you come from. Some will read this article and find comfort in it. They will see it as an affirmation of a system of truth and God's design for humanity. Some will read this article and feel outrage because it seems a cultural perversion and colonization of the gospel. Others with no religious background or a complicated background will read archaic systems of patriarchy and sexism at the core of the "purity" campaign, and feel anger or sorrow at the messages it transmits to both women and men. Others will nostalgically long for things to be so simple.

I could talk about this article for hours, but the picture slide show is what really caught my attention. Pictures speak louder than words. What "system" or "culture" is the purity ball trying to transmit? It seems to me based on the pictures that it is transmitting a fairy tale vision hearkening back to a bygone era that was based on chivalry, where princesses where rescued, guarded, and protected by princes, knights, and kings: men who would fight for them. Now, the question is --- did such a time really ever exist --- and even so, wouldn't it be bizarre to hold such a culture up as a biblical model when it is clearly based on the western modern tradition?

Then of course, we have all the purity symbols: laying a "white" rose at the cross, "white" ballerinas dancing around a cross, and I guess "princess" attire now qualifies as one too. Probably at some point, this all would have made sense to me, but now looking in as an outsider, this just feels extremely creepy! I guess I just wish that those on the inside could understand a bit what it looks like from the outside.

More than a purity ball, I just wish parents and children could have open, real, honest discussion about sex and God in an integrated way that connects to the here and now --- not some fantasy realm. It seems like this is what is really needed because when it comes to sex most teenagers and young adults (religious or not) are really confused. When you actually look at the data, this generation longs to bring together sex and the soul, but they often struggle in reconciling these two spheres. What is clear is that while things like the purity ball can offer some forms of integration, it comes at a high price that often results in extreme feelings of shame and inadequacy when people feel like they somehow violated their "purity." Even more alarming is that this burden disproportionally falls on women who are taught to view themselves as guardians or gatekeepers in the purity battle. Unfortunately, the real causality of this battle most often is meaningful participation in a faith community and relationship with God. This is something that should cause all people of faith to pause and assess the real impact of purity ideology.

women are cool too

It always bothered me that when I stopped to think about my greatest heroes they were mostly men. It’s not that I didn’t admire or respect women because some of the most influential people in my life are women. It is just that I had a hard time finding a recognizable female equivalent to Nelson Mandela or Desmond Tutu, for example. Yet, my experience tells me that it was countless “ordinary” and extraordinary women who propelled all of the great movements in history. As a feminist, I feel really embarrassed about this confession and my own contradictions.

However, recently, women have been on my mind. I have been following this election closely and I have been stunned by the poise, sheer gustiness, and brilliant acumen of several women. First, I have come to admire and respect Hillary Clinton. The woman knows her stuff --- and I, like the rest of the public, found myself grudgingly respecting her tenacity and resolve. Second, I think my new hero is Michelle Obama.

When I see Michelle Obama, by herself or with Barack, I see a woman who is strong, confident, and shrewd. She is a woman who speaks directly out of the core of who she is. Hillary is commendable, Michelle is down right stunning. You can see it reflected in her relationship with Barack as well. Their relationship clearly is forged out of deep mutual respect for one another and balance. They negotiate. They take responsibility for their own selves and advocate for each other. They strengthen one another out of their individual strength. Michelle is not afraid of embracing her femininity, her strength, her intelligence, her role as a wife and mother, her passion, and her sense of calling and vocation. In fact, when I listen to Barack and Michelle together, I’m increasingly more captivated by Michelle.

There are other women worth noting as well --- commentators and pundits. I watch CNN, and I have to say that I am very impressed with Gloria Borger, Donna Brazil, and Campbell Brown. Melissa Harris-Lacewell – political science prof/activist from Princeton – pretty much rocks. She is a woman who is not ashamed to love herself, love her community, use her mind, and act. And then there’s my favorite blogger: anxious black woman.

Just a little taste of Michelle, in time for mother’s day!