days of lament

This weekend, as Than and I browsed the galleries of Santa Fe, we stumbled on a photographic exhibit of the 1960s. I saw black and white prints taken directly after MLK Jr. was shot and the charred remains of the original print after Bobby Kennedy was shot. I could hardly hold back the tears. Standing a foot away from the prints, I felt closer to history than ever before.

All I could think was --- what happened?

I felt retroactively a bit of the anguish and despair that so many described in the wake of these deaths, especially as I realized how little has changed. One of the most depressing things about this presidential campaign is seeing the racial rhetoric and fears of the 1960s resurface in more subtle forms.

I’m reading Charles Marsh’s memoir right now titled The Last Days: A Son’s Story of Sin and Segregation at the Dawn of the New South. What perhaps shocked me the most was his description of the Jesus People movement in its initial beginnings.

Check out these lyrics by Larry Norman:

i was born and raised an orphan
in a land that once was free in
a land that poured its love out on the moon
and i grew up in the shadows of your silos
filled with grain
but you never helped to fill my empty spoon

and when i was ten you murdered law
with courtroom politics
and you learned to make a lie sound just like truth
but i know you better now
and i don’t fall for all your tricks
and you’ve lost the one advantage of my youth

you kill a black man at midnight
just for talking to your daughter
then you make his wife your mistress
and you leave her without water
and the sheet you wear upon your face
is the sheet your children sleep on
at every meal you say a prayer
you don’t believe but still you keep on

and your money says in God we trust
but it’s against the law to pray in school
you say we beat the Russians to the moon
and i say you starved your children to do it

you are far across the ocean
but the war is not your own
and while you’re winning theirs
you’re gonna lose the one at home
do you really think the only way to bring about the peace
is to sacrifice your children
and kill all your enemies

the politicians all make speeches
while the news men all take note
and they exaggerate the issues
as they shove them down our throats
is it really up to them
whether this country sinks or floats
well i wonder who would lead us
if none of us would vote

well my phone is tapped and my lips are chapped
from whispering through the fence
you know every move i make
or is that just coincidence
well you try to make my way of life
a little less like jail
if i promise to make tapes and slides
and send them through the mail

and your money says in God we trust
but it’s against the law to pray in school
you say we beat the Russians to the moon
and i say you starved your children to do it
you say all men are equal all men are brothers
then why are the rich more equal than others
don’t ask me for the answer i’ve only got one
that a man leaves his darkness when he follows the Son


Later, this movement would morph into the Religious Right.

What happened?

What shocks and saddens me is that though this song was written 40 years ago, it could have been written today if you substitute cold war references for the “war on terror." Nothing much has changed. Even issues of wire tapping are still around. The line that really caught me was "you say we beat the Russians to the moon, and i say you starved your children to do it. "

I can’t help but feel a little angry and dissapointed with my parent’s generation. While some of them were on the front lines of civil rights, social justice, the feminist movement (my dad was in Vietnam), many more sold out to consumerism, piousness, and acquiescence: a soft life. Meanwhile, they nostalgically pine for the good ol’ days. Yet, today they are the ones who quietly or not so quietly speak about Obama being a closet Muslim or a black nationalist. Not to be too judgmental, but didn’t they learn anything? I’m tired of such self-centeredness, and I have to wonder if my generation is headed the same way. For all our coolness, I don't see us as being particularly relevant either.

We didn’t heed the prophets 40 years ago. It’s doubtful that we will heed them today. But I wonder, how much longer are we going to sing these songs?

popcorn craziness

If you want to see some pictures of us having fun with our texas friends, click here.

It involves a LOT of popcorn.

what's going on?

U.S. Blacks, if a Nation, Would Rank High on AIDS - NYTimes.com:

"If black America were a country, it would rank 16th in the world in the number of people living with the AIDS virus, the Black AIDS Institute, an advocacy group, reported Tuesday."

Given this report, I am certain that if we look at world statistics, HIV/AIDS sufferers would be disproportionally black. What does this mean?

power and hope

After taking a long break from politics --- I’m back. I needed time to reassess my relationship to politics and the candidates, especially in light of my faith commitments. So, I stopped watching CNN (mostly), I stopped reading editorials and political commentaries, and I stopped giving money to Obama.

It’s been healthy. On my office wall hangs the quote by Dr. King, “"The church must be reminded that it is not the master or the servant of the state, but rather the conscience of the state. It must be the guide and the critic of the state, and never its tool. If the church does not recapture its prophetic zeal, it will become an irrelevant social club without moral or spiritual authority."

Over the last month, I have wrestled with what this quote means. My dad sends me weekly letters linking Obama with Hitler. While I was initially offended with this allusion, I understand what my dad is getting at. Charisma has power. And how will this power be used? Do I align myself with this power --- or is my relationship a bit more complex than this?

Several things in the last few weeks have reminded me why I support Obama (especially in comparison the alternatives). I don’t think Obama is a savior. However, I think he sees the world a bit more the way God sees it --- as a global, interconnected community. Critics are upset by what they see as a “transnational” president, and I don’t even want to know what the fundamentalists are saying. This plays perfectly into their fears of Obama is the anti-Christ. But if we choose to look through the lens of hope, instead of fear, I think that Obama’s perspective paints the possibility of a fundamentally different reality. I, for one, am tired of living under the tyranny of fear and terror, which has justified untold abuse and violence.

I can’t help but think we are so afraid of the unknown that we would rather cling to the logic of fear and it’s stepchildren of violence, abuse, terror, torture, and war. I’ll be honest. I’m afraid of the unknown too. At least with George Bush/John McCain we know what we will get – a world of black and white. A picture more comforting (at times) than a complex world of grays: shadows mingled with bursts of light.

Why is hope more frightening to us than fear itself? Perhaps because it forces us to walk in acknowledgment of our vulnerability and finitude realizing that we don’t have all the answers or the impenetrable ability to protect ourselves. Yet, despite all this, hope committees us to remain open to one another and to the world.

I don’t think it is my role as a follower of Christ is to unequivocally endorse Obama, but I will vote for him as I continue to listen to my own conscience. And I will continue to be challenged to shift my perspective from fear to hope --- hope not in the power of Obama, but in the power of God’s redemptive and reconciling work in the world. Seeing the people of the world as my neighbors is not a liberal position but rather the call of Christ. Therefore, how our nation treats our global neighbors is of paramount importance to me. What I see in Obama – in contrast to what I have seen for the last 8 years – excites me. It opens us new possibilities. But they are still unknown possibilities, possibilities so easily corrupted by power.

So in the words of Obama’s own prayer --- may we, as citizens of the world, be protected from pride and despair as we step forward in hope.

white privilege in america

I finally watched CNN’s Black in America. Though I was looking forward to the installments, on the night it premiered, I couldn’t bring myself to watch it. Like many, I feel conflicted about the series. I’m sensitive to the fact that it may reinforce stereotypes and representations, which is why I held off on watching it. I wish that there had been more time to unpack structural inequalities and the whole notion of white privilege. At the same time, there were a lot of realities portrayed in the documentaries that so much of white America is ignorant to.

I watched the segment on black men --- and honestly, I was left feeling depressed. Not so much with the circumstances people found themselves in, but rather, I was reminded of how pervasive privilege is. My husband and I can get in our car without worrying about being pulled over. We can drive into virtually any neighborhood without worrying that the cops will be called. I was shocked a few years ago when some of the students I worked with talked about being stopped by campus security (at their campus) and asked to show ID. No reason was given. I realize now that this is a pretty common scenario and replicated in various forms throughout society.

I worry that what white viewers will take from the film is pathology, instead of looking between the lines and acknowledging our relationship to and complicity in the conditions many African Americans and other minorities find themselves in. I applaud CNN in their ambitious attempts, but I can’t help but worry that for some, this will simply be a voyeuristic exercise that only confirms white prejudices and reifies our stereotypes.

I wish that there had been a whole segment on communities working together, creative solutions, and most of all, reconciliation. Also, maybe CNN should do a follow up documentary called “white privilege in America” where they track white people’s personal and communal stories of coming to terms with racism and privilege and their response to this realization – guilt, anger, denial, reconciliation, healing, etc. Now, that would truly be radical! Actually, come to think of it "white privilege in America" could just as well be the title of Black in America because it essentially is the wider narrative and framing backdrop at work in the documentary, even if not fully acknowledged.

Did you see Black in America? What did you think?

growing

I am rereading Parker Palmer’s Let Your Life Speak. Right now, I feel a strong pull in me to pause and just let things ferment for a while. As much as my impulse is to try to figure everything out, to start lining up the ducks, to write feroicoulsy, read consistently, and list and relist, what I hear is “wait.” I know enough from my past experiences that I need to honor this, even if I don’t understand it.

This is the strangest process. I’m still learning how to honor my intuitions and pay attention to what brings me life and what drains life. The last few weeks have been an invitation to move deeper as I have confronted how much of my self is wrapped up in the projections and refractions of others. I have been trying so burdened by the need to get ahead and the need to acomplish a goal.

Palmer reminds me that “if the self seeks not pathology but wholeness […]then the willful pursuit of vocation is an act of violence towards ourselves – violence in the name of vision, that, however lofty, is forced on the self from without rather than grown from within .”

Growing anything takes time, patience, space. This is so counter to our society’s focus on setting goals, achieving them, and getting ahead. Our culture tells us that we cannot stop striving, working, planning. I don’t want to be passive – quite the opposite – but I’m convinced that if I am going to get anywhere that is worthwhile, I must learn to let go, be still, and listen.