As we remember the 7th anniversary of the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001, I am reminded of my 9/11 story. The Sunday following the attacks we had a guest preacher at the small church we were attending. She was a seminarian and a pastor’s wife, and I wondered “Wow, what a tough position to be put in. I wonder what she will say.” Well, she told the story of a conversation she had had that week with a fellow seminarian from Nigeria. In that conversation he said to her, “Now you in the United States have joined the rest of the world. You have now experienced the insecurity and vulnerability that we in Africa feel all the time.” Truer words could not have been spoken by that Nigerian brother, and it’s a message I’ve taken with me every since.
For a while we in the United States were humbled by the 9/11 attacks. We realized we were vulnerable, and we came together in amazing ways to support and honor one another. Not only did thousands volunteer to help in the clean up, but also hundreds of thousands contributed money to help the families, the victims and the rescuers. Every public event I attended in that first year had some ceremony to remember the 9/11 victims and their families, and also took time to honor police and firefighters for their dedicated service. We acted like people who knew that our strength was not in some false bravado, but in our connection and community with each other.
But somehow that sense of humility was turned into a war cry for revenge and retribution. 9/11 became the reason for discriminating against people of Middle Eastern descent and those who looked like them. People were stopped and harassed and detained simply because of their dress and appearance. Laws were passed that allowed the government to tap anyone’s phone at any time simply for being suspicious, and to violate all sorts of civil liberties. Then we entered into wars in Iraq and Afghanistan bent on revenge and a determination to “get bin Laden.” While the war in Afghanistan made some sense in that the Taliban were supporters of al-Quada, Iraq was a sham from the start. We now know that there was an elaborate attempt to mislead the Congress and the American people about “weapons of mass destruction” and the threat that Saddam posed to our country. We know that before the tanks got rolling and the bombs dropped, the US government was negotiating with Halliburton and other major corporations to divvy up the expected oil revenues. President Bush alienated many of our allies, such as France, Russia and Germany, who refused to join us in our invasion. We have treated the POWs from that war as inhumanely as any thing that is done by our so-called “enemies.” In many ways we have become the very thing we say we oppose. Five years and 4000 dead and thousands more maimed and wounded later, we are still in Iraq, and the president and John McCain talk about achieving “victory.” Victory over what and for what? A Lie?
As I listened to the two political conventions these past couple weeks, I was struck by the fact that we are not only being presented two distinctly different candidates, but we are also being presented with two different views of the United States’ place in the world. McCain talks about “victory in Iraq” and being a Commander in Chief. He plays heavily on his 5 years in a North Vietnam prison during (I might add) another immoral, illegal war. He thumps his chest at Russia’s invasion of Georgia and invokes the memory of Ronald Reagan and the Cold War. His followers wave signs that say “Country first” and “America first”, as they chant “USA, USA” like they are at an Olympic event. In St. Paul the Republicans put forth a pre-9/11 worldview that says we choose to try and rule the world and dictate to the world, rather than join the world.
Obama presents a much different picture. (Now, I will admit that some of this picture is not one that Obama plays up much, if at all. It is the picture that is in my mind. So if you want to blame someone, blame me.) The future I see that Obama paints is a picture where the United States has joined the world, where US leaders actually talk to leaders of countries like Iran and Russia. It’s a world of coalitions rather than cowboy-style going it alone. It’s a world where the leader of the U.S. actually looks like people in the 2/3 worlds, and actually has roots in that world thru his father from Kenya and his childhood in Indonesia. It is a world where people are respected rather than run over in an attempt to expand Western corporate and political interest. In fact it is a world that the U.S. is a full participant, sharing the concerns, the vulnerabilities and the suffering. It is not a world that we in the U.S. like to think about, but in my view it is the world we live in.
These visions of the world are embodied in the messages and images of the two candidates, McCain and Obama, while at the same time being visions that transcend either man. These visions speak deeply of how we see ourselves as a people. No doubt the pre-9/11 vision is comforting and assuring to some, while the post-9/11 vision is uncharted territory and thus frightening. Yet, I believe that if we as a nation don’t choose the multi-national, multi-cultural, one-nation-among-many future, we will be dragged there soon enough through a painful collapse of our society and way of life.
When my daughters were in middle school, I told them they had to learn Spanish because by the time they were adults 25-30% of the US population would use Spanish as their first language. I wish I had had the foresight to tell them to learn Chinese, Swahili and Arabic as well. The world my girls inhabit today as young adults is a much more diverse world than I could have imagined. It is a world where they must know how to communicate and cooperate across racial, cultural, national, religious, and ideological lines. It is a world that doesn’t abide an “America first” way of thinking.
One of my students put it clearly and succinctly. She wrote:
“I feel we are now at a newfound precipice looking into the future. We can choose to be proactive and decide what we want to become as a people--a global community within and without our borders--or we can continue to react and develop our social policies ad hoc. “
Like this young woman, I believe we are at precipice; we can either move backward to a time that exists only in our minds, or move forward to embrace the fact that we are part of a global community and need to do our part to help it become a healthy community. That doesn’t mean there won’t be conflict, failure, disappointment and the like. But in my mind it is better than denying what 9/11 clearly showed us: that we must embrace being part of the world as it is, or suffer the consequences of living in a Pollyanna past.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Thursday, September 04, 2008
In Defense of Community Organizers and the People They Work With
“I guess a small-town mayor is sort like a community organizer except that you have actual responsibilities.” That line got a big laugh and cheer from the delegates at the Republican National Convention in St. Paul this week. At the same time it betrayed an attitude of neglect that has characterized this presidential election campaign on both sides of the aisle.
For Gov. Palin’s information, community organizers are people who take on the responsibility of helping people who have no power or voice in this society, not only to get heard, but also to secure rights and opportunities that are denied them because they are poor. This summer I had the opportunity to attend the annual gathering of the National Organizers Alliance, a network of community organizers. These folks were working in a variety fields: immigration reform, voter registration, environmental protection, civil rights, labor, and anti-racism. Like social workers, childcare workers, inner city school teachers, youth workers, and millions of community and church volunteers, community organizers are committed to securing dignity and rights to the people who are often neglected, forgotten, and, even worse, abused by the U.S. economic and political system. As my wife, a social worker who serves people with HIV/AIDS, says: “We work with the folks that the rest of the society would rather not deal with.”
However, in addition to insulting a whole group of dedicated folks whose contributions are already devalued by this society, Gov. Palin’s statement raises a deeper concern about this election; and in this regard Sen. Obama is equally at fault. While there has been a lot of talk about the “middle class” and the “working class” by the candidates, no one has talked seriously about the growing extent of poverty in this nation. The only candidate to focus on the needs of the poor was John Edwards in the Democratic primary race. Other than that the poor have largely been ignored.
In his acceptance speech at the Democratic National Convention, Barack Obama talked about the mortgage crisis, rising oil prices, jobs being shipped overseas, lowering taxes and the like – issues that impact the middle class. As a person with a “middle class” income, I resonate with those issues. I have not been able to do all I wanted to do, because costs have gone up. I am fortunate to have a secure mortgage, decent health coverage and a good credit rating, but I wouldn’t mind a little more. But the discomfort I experience is nothing compared to those who were suffering before the mortgage crisis hit, because they either didn’t have a permanent home, or because they struggled to pay the monthly rent. The discomfort I experience is nothing to the family that has no health care, and limited transportation, and whose schools are overcrowded, undersupplied, and physically decrepit. Senator Obama has talked about growing up with a single mom on a limited income, but has not fully addressed the complex burdens faced by the poor in this society today. He knows about it not only from his childhood, but also from his days as a community organizer. He tells the stories of people he knew in Southside Chicago in his memoir Dreams of My Father.
So, Obama knows about poverty, but for political reasons he has chosen not to talk about it; poverty, like racism, is not an issue Americans want to be reminded of. Gov. Palin, and the Republicans take the neglect even further, and ridicule those who make it their business to work side by side with those who are marginalized, dispossessed and abused by our system.
However, let me be clear: the issue is not about charity. Republicans are as generous and concerned about the “downtrodden” as anyone else. The issue is not about charity, but rather about social justice. John Rawls, Harvard philosopher who wrote A Theory of Justice, said that a society is judged on how it responds to the needs of the most vulnerable in that society. Justice is about making sure that people have their basic needs met, and that the doors of opportunity are equally open to all. Justice isn’t about giveaways; rather it’s about creating an economic, educational, and political system that gives every person a voice regardless of their station in life. In short social justice suggests that one’s ideas, rather than one’s access to power thru lobbyists and financial contributions, guide the decisions leaders make. In short, social justice is actually practicing the democracy we profess to have in this society
Almost all political speakers end their speeches with some variant of “God Bless America.” Jesus said that the way one responds to the needs of the poor, naked, imprisoned and weak is equivalent to the way one responds to him, and by extension to God (Matthew 25). If this nation truly wants any sense of God’s blessing, we had better open our eyes and our minds to those through whom God speaks and listens: the poor.
For Gov. Palin’s information, community organizers are people who take on the responsibility of helping people who have no power or voice in this society, not only to get heard, but also to secure rights and opportunities that are denied them because they are poor. This summer I had the opportunity to attend the annual gathering of the National Organizers Alliance, a network of community organizers. These folks were working in a variety fields: immigration reform, voter registration, environmental protection, civil rights, labor, and anti-racism. Like social workers, childcare workers, inner city school teachers, youth workers, and millions of community and church volunteers, community organizers are committed to securing dignity and rights to the people who are often neglected, forgotten, and, even worse, abused by the U.S. economic and political system. As my wife, a social worker who serves people with HIV/AIDS, says: “We work with the folks that the rest of the society would rather not deal with.”
However, in addition to insulting a whole group of dedicated folks whose contributions are already devalued by this society, Gov. Palin’s statement raises a deeper concern about this election; and in this regard Sen. Obama is equally at fault. While there has been a lot of talk about the “middle class” and the “working class” by the candidates, no one has talked seriously about the growing extent of poverty in this nation. The only candidate to focus on the needs of the poor was John Edwards in the Democratic primary race. Other than that the poor have largely been ignored.
In his acceptance speech at the Democratic National Convention, Barack Obama talked about the mortgage crisis, rising oil prices, jobs being shipped overseas, lowering taxes and the like – issues that impact the middle class. As a person with a “middle class” income, I resonate with those issues. I have not been able to do all I wanted to do, because costs have gone up. I am fortunate to have a secure mortgage, decent health coverage and a good credit rating, but I wouldn’t mind a little more. But the discomfort I experience is nothing compared to those who were suffering before the mortgage crisis hit, because they either didn’t have a permanent home, or because they struggled to pay the monthly rent. The discomfort I experience is nothing to the family that has no health care, and limited transportation, and whose schools are overcrowded, undersupplied, and physically decrepit. Senator Obama has talked about growing up with a single mom on a limited income, but has not fully addressed the complex burdens faced by the poor in this society today. He knows about it not only from his childhood, but also from his days as a community organizer. He tells the stories of people he knew in Southside Chicago in his memoir Dreams of My Father.
So, Obama knows about poverty, but for political reasons he has chosen not to talk about it; poverty, like racism, is not an issue Americans want to be reminded of. Gov. Palin, and the Republicans take the neglect even further, and ridicule those who make it their business to work side by side with those who are marginalized, dispossessed and abused by our system.
However, let me be clear: the issue is not about charity. Republicans are as generous and concerned about the “downtrodden” as anyone else. The issue is not about charity, but rather about social justice. John Rawls, Harvard philosopher who wrote A Theory of Justice, said that a society is judged on how it responds to the needs of the most vulnerable in that society. Justice is about making sure that people have their basic needs met, and that the doors of opportunity are equally open to all. Justice isn’t about giveaways; rather it’s about creating an economic, educational, and political system that gives every person a voice regardless of their station in life. In short social justice suggests that one’s ideas, rather than one’s access to power thru lobbyists and financial contributions, guide the decisions leaders make. In short, social justice is actually practicing the democracy we profess to have in this society
Almost all political speakers end their speeches with some variant of “God Bless America.” Jesus said that the way one responds to the needs of the poor, naked, imprisoned and weak is equivalent to the way one responds to him, and by extension to God (Matthew 25). If this nation truly wants any sense of God’s blessing, we had better open our eyes and our minds to those through whom God speaks and listens: the poor.
Monday, August 18, 2008
How Does the Peace Movement Respond to the Russian Invasion?
This is one of those entries where I wish I had something profound and insightful to say. Unfortunately, all I have are questions.
Last week, while we were all watching the opening ceremonies the Olympics (or for those who despise the sports mania, you were doing something to distract yourselves from said event), the Russians were invading the Republic of Georgia. To many, especially people in the Baltic States and Eastern Europe who were once part of the “Soviet bloc,” this event seemed hauntingly reminiscent of Russia’s 1953 invasion of Czechoslovakia. Poland and Ukraine have made it clear that they fear they may be next on Russia’s list of projected targets. The world stood shocked at Russia’s bold move caught flat footed by their act of aggression.
To hear the Russians talk, it sounds like they are only seeking to “liberate” the oppressed people of South Ossetia. To hear the Georgian leaders speak, it sounds like a brazen move of aggression. Where does the truth lie? Of course it depends on who you listen to.
As a person committed to peaceful, non-violent means of conflict resolution, I was speechless and felt inadequate when I read about these events. The U.S. government’s response was to make strong statements of support for Georgia and to deploy “humanitarian aid” delivered by members of the U.S. Navy and Air Force. NATO seemed paralyzed. President Sarkozy of France brokered a peace agreement, which the Russians seem to be saying they would agree to while continuing to advance deeper into Georgia. However, the peace community was silent.
At times like this, I wish we peaceniks of the world were better organized. I wish we had a contingent of people whose mission it was to enter such situations to stand between the warring factions and advocate for reconciliation. During the 1980’s when the U.S. carried on its covert war in El Salvador and Nicaragua, Witness for Peace made such forays. At the beginning of the current Iraq war, Christians Peacemaker teams drove to Baghdad even as the bombs were falling. Numerous groups have sought to serve as “human shields” between the Israelis and Palestinians. However, usually such groups are small and take months to organize because they are not “at the ready” when such conflicts arise. In fact the Christian Peacemaker website asks the question: "What would happen if Christians devoted the same discipline and self-sacrifice to nonviolent peacemaking that armies devote to war?"
Part of the problem lies with the kind of people peace folks tend to be. We peace folks tend to be a bit anti-authoritarian and don’t like too many rules. We balk at too much organization (that’s why there are so many anti-Iraq war groups all bickering with each other). This divisive attitude hampers us when we need to act quickly and the people in need are halfway around the globe. We become strangely silent when there an act of naked aggression by an perpetrator who could care less about Gandhi’s concept of satygraha (truth-force) or Martin Luther King’s notion of redemptive suffering or the South African concept of ubuntu.
I have to believe that in Russia and in Georgia there are people who are committed to the ways of peaceful conflict resolution and non-violent direct action. I have to believe that there are people whatever their spiritual heritage who have found a deeper truth and personal inspiration in teachings such as Jesus’ directives on non-violence and redemptive suffering in the Sermon on the Mount. Somehow we must find ways to connect with such folks, support them and if need be stand up with them to counter the impulse to military violence that snags our leaders anytime actions like this occur. If we believe, as I do, that the way of non-violence is the way human beings are created and wired to live, then we have to find ways to creatively respond.
In the buildup to World War II the great Christian leader and theologian Reinhold Niebuhr renounced his youthful pacifism as being impractical in a world threatened by Nazism. When events such as the Russian invasion of Georgia occur many would-be pacifists silently thank their lucky stars we’ve got some big guns trained on the “enemy.” The hawks in our country, such as John McCain, feel emboldened to threaten military force on our supposed adversaries. But we peace folks, where are we?
I, for one, don’t want to go down the military road, but at this point, I have far more questions than constructive responses. Any ideas out there?
Last week, while we were all watching the opening ceremonies the Olympics (or for those who despise the sports mania, you were doing something to distract yourselves from said event), the Russians were invading the Republic of Georgia. To many, especially people in the Baltic States and Eastern Europe who were once part of the “Soviet bloc,” this event seemed hauntingly reminiscent of Russia’s 1953 invasion of Czechoslovakia. Poland and Ukraine have made it clear that they fear they may be next on Russia’s list of projected targets. The world stood shocked at Russia’s bold move caught flat footed by their act of aggression.
To hear the Russians talk, it sounds like they are only seeking to “liberate” the oppressed people of South Ossetia. To hear the Georgian leaders speak, it sounds like a brazen move of aggression. Where does the truth lie? Of course it depends on who you listen to.
As a person committed to peaceful, non-violent means of conflict resolution, I was speechless and felt inadequate when I read about these events. The U.S. government’s response was to make strong statements of support for Georgia and to deploy “humanitarian aid” delivered by members of the U.S. Navy and Air Force. NATO seemed paralyzed. President Sarkozy of France brokered a peace agreement, which the Russians seem to be saying they would agree to while continuing to advance deeper into Georgia. However, the peace community was silent.
At times like this, I wish we peaceniks of the world were better organized. I wish we had a contingent of people whose mission it was to enter such situations to stand between the warring factions and advocate for reconciliation. During the 1980’s when the U.S. carried on its covert war in El Salvador and Nicaragua, Witness for Peace made such forays. At the beginning of the current Iraq war, Christians Peacemaker teams drove to Baghdad even as the bombs were falling. Numerous groups have sought to serve as “human shields” between the Israelis and Palestinians. However, usually such groups are small and take months to organize because they are not “at the ready” when such conflicts arise. In fact the Christian Peacemaker website asks the question: "What would happen if Christians devoted the same discipline and self-sacrifice to nonviolent peacemaking that armies devote to war?"
Part of the problem lies with the kind of people peace folks tend to be. We peace folks tend to be a bit anti-authoritarian and don’t like too many rules. We balk at too much organization (that’s why there are so many anti-Iraq war groups all bickering with each other). This divisive attitude hampers us when we need to act quickly and the people in need are halfway around the globe. We become strangely silent when there an act of naked aggression by an perpetrator who could care less about Gandhi’s concept of satygraha (truth-force) or Martin Luther King’s notion of redemptive suffering or the South African concept of ubuntu.
I have to believe that in Russia and in Georgia there are people who are committed to the ways of peaceful conflict resolution and non-violent direct action. I have to believe that there are people whatever their spiritual heritage who have found a deeper truth and personal inspiration in teachings such as Jesus’ directives on non-violence and redemptive suffering in the Sermon on the Mount. Somehow we must find ways to connect with such folks, support them and if need be stand up with them to counter the impulse to military violence that snags our leaders anytime actions like this occur. If we believe, as I do, that the way of non-violence is the way human beings are created and wired to live, then we have to find ways to creatively respond.
In the buildup to World War II the great Christian leader and theologian Reinhold Niebuhr renounced his youthful pacifism as being impractical in a world threatened by Nazism. When events such as the Russian invasion of Georgia occur many would-be pacifists silently thank their lucky stars we’ve got some big guns trained on the “enemy.” The hawks in our country, such as John McCain, feel emboldened to threaten military force on our supposed adversaries. But we peace folks, where are we?
I, for one, don’t want to go down the military road, but at this point, I have far more questions than constructive responses. Any ideas out there?
Saturday, August 02, 2008
Tigger With A Cause
For the past several months the media has been highlighting “The Last Lecture, ” an actual lecture delivered by Dr. Randy Pausch on September 18, 2007 at Carnegie Mellon University. Dr. Pausch was a computer science professor at CMU who was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer. At the time he delivered the lecture he was only expected to live for another 2-3 months, which is normal for pancreatic cancer. However, he beat the odds, and just recently passed away on July 25, 2008.
If you have 75 minutes to spare, “The Last Lecture” is worth listening to. Dr. Pausch shares a number stories about how he had been able to fulfill his personal dreams, how as a professor he encouraged the dreams of others, and then the life lessons he learned along the way. What makes the lecture so compelling is the context of his impending death and the sincere gratitude he has for the people in his life: mentors, colleagues, students, friends and family. The lessons and insights themselves are not particularly profound; what makes them so compelling is that the man sharing them lived them and did not just speak them. So now there are Last Lecture CD’s, podcasts, and books, and as American consumer culture is prone to do, we have made "The Last Lecture" into a commodity to be purchased on the self-help shelf at you local bookstore. Even so, cynicism aside, "The Last Lecture" is worth your time.
I finally took the time a few nights ago to view/listen to "The Last Lecture", and was particularly struck by one of his life lessons. He said all of us can choose in life to either be a Tigger or an Eeyore. For those not familiar with the Winnie the Pooh stories, Tigger is a bouncy, fun-loving tiger who never stops moving and finds joy in everything. Eeyore, on the other hand, is a morose, self-pitying donkey for whom life is a constant struggle and disappointment. Pausch’s point was this: we have a choice as to how we will engage the world, either as an exciting fun-filled adventurer or as a self-pitying pessimist. Randy Pausch chose to be a Tigger, and demonstrated that by causing an auditorium of people to laugh to the point of tears while talking about his impending death.
Depression is a terrible disability, and I realize that often there are chemical imbalances involved, but nonetheless I think Pausch has an excellent point. While not all of us have the “luxury” of knowing when and how our lives will end, all of us have the choice as to how we will live until our lives do end. When I was a pastor ministering to dying people, I came to realize that the so-called “deathbed conversion” was a false myth. People died in the same way they lived. If they were cynical or morose or self-centered in life, they were the same way in death; likewise if they were compassionate, positive and other-centered in life, they died that way too.
While I can have my “pity party” moments, I choose to embrace life with a Tigger mentality. However, Tigger is probably not the image I would have chosen because the issues confronting us today are too severe to just “bounce” through life. Nearly every day I interact with people who face issues of poverty, illness, family breakdown, racism and the like. On a national and global scale we are at dangerous place in history in large part due to the misplaced policies of our own government. So the Tigger image alone does not do it for me; Tigger often did not really interact with people and the world in a meaningful way. Yet, I like Tigger’s attitude, his spunk, his endless energy and his desire to see an adventure in every event.
Recently, I came across a line written by Reinhold Niebuhr in The Irony of American History:
“Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in a lifetime, therefore we must be saved by hope.”
I couple that with the saying attributed to Gandhi:
“Be the change you wish to see in the world.”
These words capture what drives me these days. They capture who at my best I hope to be. I want to work for positive changes in the world that will outlive me. So I couple Niebuhr's and Gandhi's words with Pausch’s image of Tigger, and say I want to be a Tigger with a cause. I want to be engaged in lifting up the lives of others as I am compelled and inspired by hope.
I don’t think Randy Pausch was a particularly religious man; he makes no mention of faith in his last lecture. Nonetheless, there is clear spiritual import in what he says: we have a choice as to how we will live life. Moses (Deuteronomy 30.15, 19b) put it this way: “I set before you today life and prosperity, death and destruction … Now choose life so that you and your children may live.” Randy Pausch’s “The Last Lecture” (which he reveals at the end is really a message for his three young children) is a call to choose life, to be a Tigger with a Cause for as many days as we have left in this life... and beyond.
If you have 75 minutes to spare, “The Last Lecture” is worth listening to. Dr. Pausch shares a number stories about how he had been able to fulfill his personal dreams, how as a professor he encouraged the dreams of others, and then the life lessons he learned along the way. What makes the lecture so compelling is the context of his impending death and the sincere gratitude he has for the people in his life: mentors, colleagues, students, friends and family. The lessons and insights themselves are not particularly profound; what makes them so compelling is that the man sharing them lived them and did not just speak them. So now there are Last Lecture CD’s, podcasts, and books, and as American consumer culture is prone to do, we have made "The Last Lecture" into a commodity to be purchased on the self-help shelf at you local bookstore. Even so, cynicism aside, "The Last Lecture" is worth your time.
I finally took the time a few nights ago to view/listen to "The Last Lecture", and was particularly struck by one of his life lessons. He said all of us can choose in life to either be a Tigger or an Eeyore. For those not familiar with the Winnie the Pooh stories, Tigger is a bouncy, fun-loving tiger who never stops moving and finds joy in everything. Eeyore, on the other hand, is a morose, self-pitying donkey for whom life is a constant struggle and disappointment. Pausch’s point was this: we have a choice as to how we will engage the world, either as an exciting fun-filled adventurer or as a self-pitying pessimist. Randy Pausch chose to be a Tigger, and demonstrated that by causing an auditorium of people to laugh to the point of tears while talking about his impending death.
Depression is a terrible disability, and I realize that often there are chemical imbalances involved, but nonetheless I think Pausch has an excellent point. While not all of us have the “luxury” of knowing when and how our lives will end, all of us have the choice as to how we will live until our lives do end. When I was a pastor ministering to dying people, I came to realize that the so-called “deathbed conversion” was a false myth. People died in the same way they lived. If they were cynical or morose or self-centered in life, they were the same way in death; likewise if they were compassionate, positive and other-centered in life, they died that way too.
While I can have my “pity party” moments, I choose to embrace life with a Tigger mentality. However, Tigger is probably not the image I would have chosen because the issues confronting us today are too severe to just “bounce” through life. Nearly every day I interact with people who face issues of poverty, illness, family breakdown, racism and the like. On a national and global scale we are at dangerous place in history in large part due to the misplaced policies of our own government. So the Tigger image alone does not do it for me; Tigger often did not really interact with people and the world in a meaningful way. Yet, I like Tigger’s attitude, his spunk, his endless energy and his desire to see an adventure in every event.
Recently, I came across a line written by Reinhold Niebuhr in The Irony of American History:
“Nothing that is worth doing can be achieved in a lifetime, therefore we must be saved by hope.”
I couple that with the saying attributed to Gandhi:
“Be the change you wish to see in the world.”
These words capture what drives me these days. They capture who at my best I hope to be. I want to work for positive changes in the world that will outlive me. So I couple Niebuhr's and Gandhi's words with Pausch’s image of Tigger, and say I want to be a Tigger with a cause. I want to be engaged in lifting up the lives of others as I am compelled and inspired by hope.
I don’t think Randy Pausch was a particularly religious man; he makes no mention of faith in his last lecture. Nonetheless, there is clear spiritual import in what he says: we have a choice as to how we will live life. Moses (Deuteronomy 30.15, 19b) put it this way: “I set before you today life and prosperity, death and destruction … Now choose life so that you and your children may live.” Randy Pausch’s “The Last Lecture” (which he reveals at the end is really a message for his three young children) is a call to choose life, to be a Tigger with a Cause for as many days as we have left in this life... and beyond.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Spirituality of a Different Kind
Just before the July 4th holiday I attended the national gathering of the National Organizer’s Alliance (NOA) , a network of community organizers, labor organizers and social activists from across the country. I was there to learn about community organizing work that was being done at the grassroots level, and came away with that and so much more. The folks at the gathering represented a wide variety of groups and concerns: gay rights, environmentalists, immigration, drug policy reform, labor unions, women’s issues, anti-racism groups, church networks and much more. The group was racially, ethnically and generationally diverse, and leadership was shared equally and seamlessly across all the differences. While there were several “old-timers,” people who had been involved in social activism since the 1960’s, there also was a healthy contingent of late adolescents and twenty-somethings whose contributions and commitments were affirmed and celebrated. Despite all the apparent differences, there was a common commitment to radical social change and to “the movement” that will hopefully bring it about.
I met one African-American brother who had spent several years in prison for a crime he did not commit, and when he was released he returned to his home in rural South Carolina to work for economic and racial justice. He was elected as a county commissioner, but even that did not spare him from being harassed and threatened to the point of death by white supremacists in the area. However, he spoke gratefully of the support and assistance given to him from his colleagues from NOA during some of his most trying times. He saw the members of NOA as his extended family and community of support.
One night we were entertained by the D.C. Labor Choir, a group of union folks who got together weekly to sing and support each other. Like the NOA group, the choir was made up of Asian, Latino, African-American and White folks of all ages. Several of the songs they sang were gospel songs (with the words slightly altered) that originally came out of the African-American church, which of course had been the heart and soul of the Civil Rights movement in the 1950’s and 60’s.
As I was listening to the choir and reflecting on my experience with these ordinary folks committed to extraordinary change, I felt like I was in “church”; not church in the stuffy formal sense that many folks think of church, but “church” in its best and fullest sense. The feeling of mutual support was true community, the music spoke to the depths of my soul, the commitments expressed were infectious, and the vision of a new world brought about by the movement reminded me of Jesus speaking about the Reign of God that is here and is to come. Furthermore, as I spoke with folks individually, I learned that many of them were strengthened by a deep sense of purpose that came from their religious faith, be it Jewish, Christian, Muslim or undefined.
Krista Tippet, the author of Speaking of Faith, and host of the radio show by the same name, says that in our current age with its tendency toward extremisms of all kinds, our society and world is in need of religious “moderators,” people who do not deny the importance of faith but instead “bring the best of their traditions to bear on the world.” I felt that I was in the presence of such moderators, folks who were drawn to a vision of a world of equity, peace, fairness, health, safety and cooperation with nature. Cynics and “realists” on the Left and Right denounce such visionaries as impractical. That cynicism leads to the life-destroying policies of both the left and right, and only breeds greater enmity between the two. The Rush Limbaughs, Ann Coulters and Bill Mahers of the world scoff at such visions, and only leave us in despair. By contrast spiritual moderators imbue us with a sense of optimism because they see through the present struggle to a brighter horizon where hope lives. Such hope does not hide or deny present struggles and suffering, but helps sustain us to keep working toward a world free of unjust suffering.
My experience at the NOA gathering was so moving because 25-30 years ago when I was marching against Vietnam, nuclear power, U.S. support of the contras and other causes, there was a great deal of anger and enmity on the Left toward spiritually oriented people. While there were always religiously oriented leaders like Jesse Jackson and William Sloane Coffin involved, I felt that they were tolerated because of their political leanings and basically ignored (by most) for their spiritual convictions. What I sensed at NOA was something quite different; I felt an openness to the Transcendent that pointed to a deeper spirituality infusing those seeking social change.
One of the great things about this postmodern age we live in is that I can affirm my Christian roots and motivation, while someone else can affirm their roots from another tradition, and we don’t have to feel like one of has to “win” the other over. Instead we can stand in the space that our common commitments create for us despite our different sources of inspiration. In such encounters I am reminded that God or Allah or Yahweh or the Higher Power or whatever we call the Transcendent is far too vast for any one of us to fully grasp, and therefore large enough for all of us to be covered by the Divine grace and shelter of love.
Robert Mulholland writes that often God comes to us from the margins of life in what he calls a “decentering experience.” In other words very often the Transcendent is found in the places where one would least expect to experience a deep sense of a spiritual presence. I did not go to the NOA gathering expecting to experience “church;” nonetheless, God met me there in deep and profound ways, and I am deeply grateful for being decentered yet again.
I met one African-American brother who had spent several years in prison for a crime he did not commit, and when he was released he returned to his home in rural South Carolina to work for economic and racial justice. He was elected as a county commissioner, but even that did not spare him from being harassed and threatened to the point of death by white supremacists in the area. However, he spoke gratefully of the support and assistance given to him from his colleagues from NOA during some of his most trying times. He saw the members of NOA as his extended family and community of support.
One night we were entertained by the D.C. Labor Choir, a group of union folks who got together weekly to sing and support each other. Like the NOA group, the choir was made up of Asian, Latino, African-American and White folks of all ages. Several of the songs they sang were gospel songs (with the words slightly altered) that originally came out of the African-American church, which of course had been the heart and soul of the Civil Rights movement in the 1950’s and 60’s.
As I was listening to the choir and reflecting on my experience with these ordinary folks committed to extraordinary change, I felt like I was in “church”; not church in the stuffy formal sense that many folks think of church, but “church” in its best and fullest sense. The feeling of mutual support was true community, the music spoke to the depths of my soul, the commitments expressed were infectious, and the vision of a new world brought about by the movement reminded me of Jesus speaking about the Reign of God that is here and is to come. Furthermore, as I spoke with folks individually, I learned that many of them were strengthened by a deep sense of purpose that came from their religious faith, be it Jewish, Christian, Muslim or undefined.
Krista Tippet, the author of Speaking of Faith, and host of the radio show by the same name, says that in our current age with its tendency toward extremisms of all kinds, our society and world is in need of religious “moderators,” people who do not deny the importance of faith but instead “bring the best of their traditions to bear on the world.” I felt that I was in the presence of such moderators, folks who were drawn to a vision of a world of equity, peace, fairness, health, safety and cooperation with nature. Cynics and “realists” on the Left and Right denounce such visionaries as impractical. That cynicism leads to the life-destroying policies of both the left and right, and only breeds greater enmity between the two. The Rush Limbaughs, Ann Coulters and Bill Mahers of the world scoff at such visions, and only leave us in despair. By contrast spiritual moderators imbue us with a sense of optimism because they see through the present struggle to a brighter horizon where hope lives. Such hope does not hide or deny present struggles and suffering, but helps sustain us to keep working toward a world free of unjust suffering.
My experience at the NOA gathering was so moving because 25-30 years ago when I was marching against Vietnam, nuclear power, U.S. support of the contras and other causes, there was a great deal of anger and enmity on the Left toward spiritually oriented people. While there were always religiously oriented leaders like Jesse Jackson and William Sloane Coffin involved, I felt that they were tolerated because of their political leanings and basically ignored (by most) for their spiritual convictions. What I sensed at NOA was something quite different; I felt an openness to the Transcendent that pointed to a deeper spirituality infusing those seeking social change.
One of the great things about this postmodern age we live in is that I can affirm my Christian roots and motivation, while someone else can affirm their roots from another tradition, and we don’t have to feel like one of has to “win” the other over. Instead we can stand in the space that our common commitments create for us despite our different sources of inspiration. In such encounters I am reminded that God or Allah or Yahweh or the Higher Power or whatever we call the Transcendent is far too vast for any one of us to fully grasp, and therefore large enough for all of us to be covered by the Divine grace and shelter of love.
Robert Mulholland writes that often God comes to us from the margins of life in what he calls a “decentering experience.” In other words very often the Transcendent is found in the places where one would least expect to experience a deep sense of a spiritual presence. I did not go to the NOA gathering expecting to experience “church;” nonetheless, God met me there in deep and profound ways, and I am deeply grateful for being decentered yet again.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Basic Grammar, Guns and the Supreme Court
In recent years colleges and employers have bemoaned the apparent decline in U.S. children’s ability to read and write. As a college professor who often teaches first year students and adults returning to college, I can attest to the often abysmal state of student writing these days. Experts attribute the decline in basic literacy to several causes: email/instant messaging, television, lower academic standards and the like. I would like to add another culprit to the list: The U.S. Supreme Court.
This past week the court ruled that the Second Amendment of the U.S. Constitution guarantees an individual’s right to own a gun. Now, while I admit to being a supporter of gun control laws and background checks, I have no problem with hunters, collectors and law enforcement personnel owning guns. While I don’t think it is particularly safe or wise to keep a gun in one’s home (since most murders are crimes of passion committed by people who know each other), I don’t even object to someone legally owning a gun.
But let’s be honest: the Supreme Court notwithstanding, a clear and simple reading of the 2nd amendment in no way gives a blanket right for anyone to own a gun. Here’s what the 2nd Amendment says:
A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the People to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.
While the nature of the English language has changed somewhat in 232 years, there is a clear link between the phrase “the right of the People to keep and bear arms” and “a well regulated militia.” Grammatically speaking, the right to keep and bear arms is a dependent clause that relates to the presence of a well regulated militia. The plain sense of the sentence simply means that the right to own a gun only applies when the person is part of a local militia. If a student interpreted the sentence any other way, they would get it wrong on their English 101 test. I guess the five justices who voted for the majority need to take an English refresher course.
The 2nd Amendment has nothing to do with a blanket right to own a gun; rather it was established so that communities on the frontier could protect themselves from would-be invaders. Individuals kept guns around so as to be ready to answer the call, much like volunteers in the local volunteer fire department stand ready to respond when the fire alarm sounds. In other words, owning a gun had to do with civil defense not personal rights. An understanding of the basic rules of grammar and sentence structure makes that clear.
I would not be so concerned if this was not such a grave issue. First, the issue of guns and what to do with them is a major crisis in this country. Much like the gambling industry, the gun industry operates a shadow market beneath the legal market. The looser the laws are for legal gun owners, the easier it is for illegal gun sales to go on. The gun manufacturers and their political front, the National Rifle Association (NRA), know this, and so block any effort, however rational, to control or regulate the sales of firearms. The gun industry’s “growth market” are the straw buyers and illegal gun dealers whose products flood urban city streets. By enshrining the right to own a gun in the Constitution, the Court has now made it much more difficult to have a needed conversation on what to do about gun violence in this country. Laws alone will not stem the epidemic of gun violence in our cities, schools and elsewhere, but they can help.
Secondly, the Court made it that much more difficult for communities like Washington, D.C. and Philadelphia, who are trying to address their violence problems with stricter gun control laws. Such communities are decried for not addressing their problems while not being given the tools to do so. Justice Scalia writing for the majority said “gun violence is a serious problem” but “the enshrinement of constitutional rights necessarily takes certain policy choices off the table;” in other words, we feel your pain (wink), but we are not going to help you.
We need to have a healthy dialogue about what to do about the violence in our cities and schools, but the court has just made dialogue that much more difficult by giving the NRA the cover of the Constitution. As long as the NRA is lining the pockets of politicians at local, state and federal levels, Democrat and Republican, we won’t be able to truly address this issue without becoming polarized. What we need is to have a sensible conversation that finds common ground between lawful gun owners and those who want to control the sales of guns. It can be done.
A couple years ago Hilary Clinton proposed common ground with pro-lifers by saying while we may disagree on abortion, let us agree on reducing the need for and instances of abortions. Some prolifers, including me, were willing to meet her at that point. We need that kind of dialogue on guns as well. The 2nd amendment no more guarantees one’s right to have a gun than the 1st amendment guarantees a woman’s right to abortion. Both are complex and deep moral issues where we need to have extensive dialogue in order to find some common ground.
The justices supporting this latest opinion need to review the basic rules of grammar. Otherwise, America’s children might get the idea that words even at the highest level mean nothing and you can make any sentence, even a sentence in the Constitution, say anything you damn well please. This week the justices not only made a mockery of the Constitution, they also perverted the English language, and in the process made it more difficult for the kind of rational conversation that needs to occur on the issue of guns and violence in our society.
This past week the court ruled that the Second Amendment of the U.S. Constitution guarantees an individual’s right to own a gun. Now, while I admit to being a supporter of gun control laws and background checks, I have no problem with hunters, collectors and law enforcement personnel owning guns. While I don’t think it is particularly safe or wise to keep a gun in one’s home (since most murders are crimes of passion committed by people who know each other), I don’t even object to someone legally owning a gun.
But let’s be honest: the Supreme Court notwithstanding, a clear and simple reading of the 2nd amendment in no way gives a blanket right for anyone to own a gun. Here’s what the 2nd Amendment says:
A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the People to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.
While the nature of the English language has changed somewhat in 232 years, there is a clear link between the phrase “the right of the People to keep and bear arms” and “a well regulated militia.” Grammatically speaking, the right to keep and bear arms is a dependent clause that relates to the presence of a well regulated militia. The plain sense of the sentence simply means that the right to own a gun only applies when the person is part of a local militia. If a student interpreted the sentence any other way, they would get it wrong on their English 101 test. I guess the five justices who voted for the majority need to take an English refresher course.
The 2nd Amendment has nothing to do with a blanket right to own a gun; rather it was established so that communities on the frontier could protect themselves from would-be invaders. Individuals kept guns around so as to be ready to answer the call, much like volunteers in the local volunteer fire department stand ready to respond when the fire alarm sounds. In other words, owning a gun had to do with civil defense not personal rights. An understanding of the basic rules of grammar and sentence structure makes that clear.
I would not be so concerned if this was not such a grave issue. First, the issue of guns and what to do with them is a major crisis in this country. Much like the gambling industry, the gun industry operates a shadow market beneath the legal market. The looser the laws are for legal gun owners, the easier it is for illegal gun sales to go on. The gun manufacturers and their political front, the National Rifle Association (NRA), know this, and so block any effort, however rational, to control or regulate the sales of firearms. The gun industry’s “growth market” are the straw buyers and illegal gun dealers whose products flood urban city streets. By enshrining the right to own a gun in the Constitution, the Court has now made it much more difficult to have a needed conversation on what to do about gun violence in this country. Laws alone will not stem the epidemic of gun violence in our cities, schools and elsewhere, but they can help.
Secondly, the Court made it that much more difficult for communities like Washington, D.C. and Philadelphia, who are trying to address their violence problems with stricter gun control laws. Such communities are decried for not addressing their problems while not being given the tools to do so. Justice Scalia writing for the majority said “gun violence is a serious problem” but “the enshrinement of constitutional rights necessarily takes certain policy choices off the table;” in other words, we feel your pain (wink), but we are not going to help you.
We need to have a healthy dialogue about what to do about the violence in our cities and schools, but the court has just made dialogue that much more difficult by giving the NRA the cover of the Constitution. As long as the NRA is lining the pockets of politicians at local, state and federal levels, Democrat and Republican, we won’t be able to truly address this issue without becoming polarized. What we need is to have a sensible conversation that finds common ground between lawful gun owners and those who want to control the sales of guns. It can be done.
A couple years ago Hilary Clinton proposed common ground with pro-lifers by saying while we may disagree on abortion, let us agree on reducing the need for and instances of abortions. Some prolifers, including me, were willing to meet her at that point. We need that kind of dialogue on guns as well. The 2nd amendment no more guarantees one’s right to have a gun than the 1st amendment guarantees a woman’s right to abortion. Both are complex and deep moral issues where we need to have extensive dialogue in order to find some common ground.
The justices supporting this latest opinion need to review the basic rules of grammar. Otherwise, America’s children might get the idea that words even at the highest level mean nothing and you can make any sentence, even a sentence in the Constitution, say anything you damn well please. This week the justices not only made a mockery of the Constitution, they also perverted the English language, and in the process made it more difficult for the kind of rational conversation that needs to occur on the issue of guns and violence in our society.
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Black and White Keys Together
Over the past month, I have been doing research and reading in preparation for a course I will be teaching in the fall on Race and Ethnic Relations. The purpose of the course is to provide an overview from both an historical and sociological perspective on the impact that racism and ethnic discrimination have had on contemporary North American society. In reading the history of racism (at least as it originated in Europe) it seems clear that the rise of racial discrimination coincided with the rise of capitalism and the expansion of Christianity into the “new world.” Racial superiority was used as a justification for many historical atrocities, starting with the persecution of Jews in Europe to the conquest of peoples in North and South America to the enslavement of black Africans. Often these actions were further justified by an appeal to expand the reach of European commerce, and a call to spread the gospel. This mixing of capitalism and mission led to the notion of “Christendom” the idea of a fully Christian society. Yet, by design this Christendom was only good for those who happen to be European and Christian.
Even those groups that escaped to North America because of religious persecution, such as the Puritans, often regarded the peoples they encountered there as “infidels” who needed to be eliminated or removed. As the new nation that became the United States continued to grow, that growth was most often achieved through exploitation of non-“white” groups: Native Americans, black slaves, Chinese railroad workers, Mexican farm workers, Irish refugees, East European coal workers and so on. While the motive might have been industrial expansion and economic greed, Christianity often was invoked to rationalize the exploitation by asserting that whites were genetically and socially superior to other racial and ethnic groups, and therefore they had the right to control and exploit the “others.” In recent decades various civil rights movements and a more critical perspective on history have revealed the immorality and injustice embedded in that rationale; even so the effects of that history are still evident today in the wide socioeconomic disparities between most whites and most people of color.
As a white middle class American, I am a beneficiary of this history. I come from a family of business people and professionals who originally came to this country largely from England, Scotland and Germany. I am also a Christian, having been raised in a Congregational Church that saw its historical connection to the Pilgrims and the Puritans. While I find little evidence that my ancestors owned slaves, we were part of the Western expansion that eliminated the Native Americans. Furthermore, historians widely acknowledge that the industrial expansion of the mid 1800’s in the North was directly tied to the slave trade in the South, and exploitation of immigrant workers in the urban centers. So in part my ancestry and historical identity have been built on this history of exploitation and degradation of the “other.”
At the same time I have come to realize that my history is intricately intertwined with those who have been oppressed. There was an African American news commentator I used to watch who had the last name of Boyd, who I kiddingly referred to as my long lost cousin. Obviously, his ancestors inherited that Scottish surname from a slave master and not from their African ancestors. We bear the same name because our histories are somehow linked.
Even more, our futures are intertwined. Increasingly, I find that in working for racial and economic justice, I must come to grips with the sordid history that has so long been glossed over and ignored. There is no way that history can be “redeemed” or rectified or explained away, but it can be named and acknowledged. The purpose of acknowledging the history is not to stir up guilt, as much as it is to recognize my indebtedness to those who suffered injustice. As I come to greater awareness, I become responsible to do what I can to make things right by redirecting resources, seeking to change laws, and working for policies that level the playing field for all people. On a personal level it also means opening myself to learn from others whose ancestors may have been exploited by mine and to gain a deeper appreciation for the durability of the human spirit and the ability of the power of God to help people overcome even the most oppressive circumstances.
I can not undo what has been done, but I can work to make sure injustice and racism do not continue, and I can learn. Moreover, I see that my future, and the future of my children and our society in general, is tied to our ability to rectify past and current injustices, and build a society built on respect and equity rather than exploitation.
The entry just before this one, “Only the Black Keys,” tells the story behind the melody of “Amazing Grace.” As Wintley Phipps explains in that video, the melody of Amazing Grace was a slave tune that John Newton, the converted slave ship captain, heard the slaves below deck singing as he transported them across the Atlantic Ocean. Just as English words and an African melody combined to create one of the most enduring hymns of our time, so too the histories of people of color and whites are intricately woven together. If people of color play the black keys, and whites play the white keys, perhaps together we can put together a melody that honors both and slights none. That at least is my dream.
Even those groups that escaped to North America because of religious persecution, such as the Puritans, often regarded the peoples they encountered there as “infidels” who needed to be eliminated or removed. As the new nation that became the United States continued to grow, that growth was most often achieved through exploitation of non-“white” groups: Native Americans, black slaves, Chinese railroad workers, Mexican farm workers, Irish refugees, East European coal workers and so on. While the motive might have been industrial expansion and economic greed, Christianity often was invoked to rationalize the exploitation by asserting that whites were genetically and socially superior to other racial and ethnic groups, and therefore they had the right to control and exploit the “others.” In recent decades various civil rights movements and a more critical perspective on history have revealed the immorality and injustice embedded in that rationale; even so the effects of that history are still evident today in the wide socioeconomic disparities between most whites and most people of color.
As a white middle class American, I am a beneficiary of this history. I come from a family of business people and professionals who originally came to this country largely from England, Scotland and Germany. I am also a Christian, having been raised in a Congregational Church that saw its historical connection to the Pilgrims and the Puritans. While I find little evidence that my ancestors owned slaves, we were part of the Western expansion that eliminated the Native Americans. Furthermore, historians widely acknowledge that the industrial expansion of the mid 1800’s in the North was directly tied to the slave trade in the South, and exploitation of immigrant workers in the urban centers. So in part my ancestry and historical identity have been built on this history of exploitation and degradation of the “other.”
At the same time I have come to realize that my history is intricately intertwined with those who have been oppressed. There was an African American news commentator I used to watch who had the last name of Boyd, who I kiddingly referred to as my long lost cousin. Obviously, his ancestors inherited that Scottish surname from a slave master and not from their African ancestors. We bear the same name because our histories are somehow linked.
Even more, our futures are intertwined. Increasingly, I find that in working for racial and economic justice, I must come to grips with the sordid history that has so long been glossed over and ignored. There is no way that history can be “redeemed” or rectified or explained away, but it can be named and acknowledged. The purpose of acknowledging the history is not to stir up guilt, as much as it is to recognize my indebtedness to those who suffered injustice. As I come to greater awareness, I become responsible to do what I can to make things right by redirecting resources, seeking to change laws, and working for policies that level the playing field for all people. On a personal level it also means opening myself to learn from others whose ancestors may have been exploited by mine and to gain a deeper appreciation for the durability of the human spirit and the ability of the power of God to help people overcome even the most oppressive circumstances.
I can not undo what has been done, but I can work to make sure injustice and racism do not continue, and I can learn. Moreover, I see that my future, and the future of my children and our society in general, is tied to our ability to rectify past and current injustices, and build a society built on respect and equity rather than exploitation.
The entry just before this one, “Only the Black Keys,” tells the story behind the melody of “Amazing Grace.” As Wintley Phipps explains in that video, the melody of Amazing Grace was a slave tune that John Newton, the converted slave ship captain, heard the slaves below deck singing as he transported them across the Atlantic Ocean. Just as English words and an African melody combined to create one of the most enduring hymns of our time, so too the histories of people of color and whites are intricately woven together. If people of color play the black keys, and whites play the white keys, perhaps together we can put together a melody that honors both and slights none. That at least is my dream.
Friday, June 06, 2008
Just the Black Keys
Rod Niner, a good friend, recently sent me the link to a YouTube video, entitled "Just the Black Keys". I heard this presentation nearly 12 years ago and I have never forgotten it. In this presentation on the history and background of the hymn "Amazing Grace," Rev. Wintley Phipps makes a clear link between the origin of the lyrics and the tune that rose up out of sufferring of the slaves of the Middle Passage from Africa to North America.
The message of this video for me is that the history and destiny of whites and blacks in this nation are more inextricably linked than we ever imagined.
The message of this video for me is that the history and destiny of whites and blacks in this nation are more inextricably linked than we ever imagined.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Racism, White Privilege and the Need for an "Easter Experience"
The following remarks are taken from a sermon I preached at West Philadelphia Mennonite Church on May 18, 2008.
Racism as a Power
In my experience when the issue of racism comes up, most whites feel either guilt or anger or both. Often they are angry because they feel like someone is trying to make them feel guilty. As white people we often feel we are being held accountable for something we didn’t do.
However, I want us to think about racism in broader, more systemic terms. I want us to think of it in terms of what Paul calls “principalities and powers” and in terms that Walter Wink talks about racism in his book, The Powers that Be. While racism is sometimes expressed in overt acts, the power of racism itself is a force in our society that is bigger than any one person or group. It is a force that distorts our sense of who we are and creates barriers between people of different racial and ethnic groups. In this sense it’s not so much that we have racism, but rather that racism has us. In order to resist racism , we first must recognize it’s power over us.
For those of who are white, racism is a force that often puts us in positions of power that we do not seek with privileges we did not ask for. It’s a power that grants those of us who are white a more exalted status as a group, while causing us to resist being seen as a group. One thing a white person doesn’t like to hear from people of color is that he or she is a “typical white person,” because we see ourselves as distinct individuals not as a group. At the same time racism excludes, distorts, makes sick, impoverishes and oppresses those who are not white. It is a power that causes people of different races to choose to live in different neighborhoods, worship at different churches, socialize in different places, and generally relate to people of their own group. Racism is a power that permeates the economic system, the political system, and the educational system. It is a power that is often joined with the powers of Classism and Sexism, which together can have a devastating effect on our sense of identity and our ability to live in community with others.
So when we talk about racism the issue is not about guilt, but rather about recognizing racism’s power over us , and then seeking ways to act responsibly against that power. We need to resist racism’s impact just like a recovering alcoholic has to resist the pull of the drug. Like an alcoholic we must admit that our lives have been shaped and influenced by racism and work diligently to unleash ourselves from the pull of that power. And like the alcoholic we can’t resist alone. To try to go it alone is to play back into racism’s power. We need a group and need to act as a group. In short we need to be in conversation with each other.
White Privilege
One of the first things we as whites must come to grips with is what is known as white privilege. The tricky thing with privilege is that it is largely invisible to those of us who are white, but glaringly obvious to those who are not. White privilege operates in subtle and devious ways. When I get on an elevator, women don’t back away in fear. When I walk into a grocery store, clerks don’t suspect me of shoplifting. When I drive through a predominantly black neighborhood, I don’t have to fear being stopped for being in the wrong place. These are “privileges” I enjoy that people of color can’t assume. Just because of the color of my skin, my children are more likely to own their own homes, go to a good school, get a better job, and earn a better a salary when they get that job.. These are privileges they enjoy simply because they are white. And as I said they didn’t ask for them, but they are there.
And unconsciously these privileges can slip over into the way we as whites interact with people of color. A year ago this past winter, I joined a class of the Alternative Seminary on the topic bridging the gap of race and class. We met for eight Tuesdays nights from January to March in a small Methodist church in North Philadelphia. The purpose of the course was to explore the forces that divide whites and people of color from each other and to think together about ways we could work more effectively across racial lines. The group consisted of somewhere between 15-20 people and was evenly divided between whites and African Americans. There were two Puerto Rican men who came the first two nights but did not continue. About 2/3 of the group were women and there were no African American men (although we did have some African American men come in as speakers). The group was facilitated by two women, one white and one black.
Now I went into that class thinking I had a pretty good handle on what racism was and how to communicate across differences. I had good relationships with my co-workers of color. I had even taught courses on the stuff. So I thought I was in pretty good shape when came to racism and I assumed the others in the group would see that and accept with open arms on that basis. But I was in for a big surprise because over that two month period I was confronted with the ways I talked and carried myself that unwittingly conveyed a sense of superiority and privilege to the people of color in the group. And because I was on their turf, they had no qualms in letting me know how arrogant I came across. It wasn’t I made any racist statements, I was just being my normal white self. To the other folks in the group I was conveying that I was a person of privilege.
Tobin Miller Shearer in the book, Set Free, says that white privilege tends to express itself in many different ways, one of which is a need to always be in control. In that group I wanted to be right, even if I was wrong. I wanted to be heard, even I needed to listen. I wanted my points to count, even if they were not pertinent. At the time I didn’t know why, but later I figured it out: as a white person, I was used to having my opinion count. I was used to being listened to and respected; that was my privilege as a white person. As painful as it was, that experience was invaluable for me because it forced me to see myself as others saw me. It forced me to see myself from a different perspective.
Paul’s Change in Perspective
And you see in Acts 9 that’s what happened to Paul; he went through a dramatic change of perspective. Luke tells us that Paul was “breathing out murderous threats” as he traveled on the road leading into the Syrian city of Damascus. He was on a mission to find, capture and imprison as many followers of Jesus as he could possibly round up.
And then he had this incredible vision of Jesus speaking to him out of the sky. He immediately went blind, and heard a voice saying to him “I am Jesus whom you are persecuting.” Now there are two things to note about this event. First of all, the people who were with Paul saw no light, saw no Jesus, and only heard a rumbling sound. So this was an intensely personal experience for Paul. Second, as far as we know Paul had never had any personal contact with Jesus before his death. So when Jesus accused Paul of persecuting him, Jesus was identifying himself with his followers; he was in essence saying that by seeking to imprison his followers, Paul was persecuting him. Up to this point Paul had seen himself as a hero and a servant of God’s people; all of a sudden he saw himself as a killer and an enemy of God’s people
Paul was directed by Jesus to go into the city and wait. After three days a man named Ananias came and prayed over him. With that prayer Paul’s blindness was removed, he was baptized, and he began an entirely new way of life. He dedicated himself telling folks about the life and message of this Jesus, and he suffered and eventually died for that purpose. What happened to Paul on the Damascus road was a dramatic change of perspective that turned him completely around from being a hunter to one of the hunted, from being a persecutor to one of the persecuted, from being an oppressor to one of the oppressed.
The Easter Experience
He had what Paulo Freire called an “Easter experience.” Paulo Freire was Brazilian educator who dedicated himself to using education as a means of helping poor and oppressed people gain the means to overcome their oppression and work for their liberation. His book, Pedagogy of the Oppressed, has inspired a whole generation of students, teachers, community organizers, and anti-poverty advocates. Freire was also a dedicated Christian. In a letter to a theology student he wrote that if non-oppressed people want to work in solidarity with oppressed persons for their liberation, they had to go through what he called an “Easter experience”. By that he meant was that those who are privileged need to go through a spiritual transformation that releases them from their attachment to power and enables them to see and experience the world from the vantage point of the oppressed. I believe that is what happened to Paul on the Damascus Road. That’s what happened to me in the Alternative Seminary course. I want to suggest that is what needs to happen to those of us who are white and privileged, if we are to truly stand by those who are limited and sometimes crushed by the injustice of racism.
I want to suggest that the gospel’s call to those of us who are white is to seek ways to let go of our control and privilege and undergo a spiritual transformation leading to a perspective change. It not just about whether we commit overt acts of discrimination, or whether we behave respectfully toward people of other races. No primarily it is about whether or not we are willing to recognize the advantages that our culture has afforded those of us who are white. And it’s about our willing to relinquish those privileges for the sake of justice and reconciliation.
Using Our Experience as a Window
Now when I bring this up, some white folks will say, “Wait a minute I’ve been a victim of discrimination, I’ve been despised because of my gender or my social class or my accent or even my white skin.” If that is the case then I say “good – hang onto that awareness.” Because as painful as those experiences have been, they have given you a window into what people of color experience nearly every day of their lives simply because they have a skin color other than white.
When I was in that group there were many times when I felt like I was being disregarded and ignored simply because I was white. And it ticked me off. There were times I wasn’t sure if people didn’t like what I said because they were simply dumb statement or if it was because I was this big talkative white guy. I’d go home all angry and confused, and then it dawned on me: this is what a lot of African American people, and Hispanic people, and Asian people and Native American people and immigrants go through every day. And it was like a window into their experience. And it helped me see things from another perspective. Every day people of color are reminded that they need to work a little bit harder and be a little bit smarter just to get to the same place white folks get. And if they do get a good job or a promotion, they have to deal with the question of whether they got it on their merits or because of some quota or affirmative action policy. Everyday people of color have to wonder if they are being heard or respected or ignored simply because of their skin color. Everyday when they pick up the newspaper or watch a news program they are reminded that their schools are underfunded, the courts sentence them to harsher and longer penalties, that they are not likely to get the same pay for the same job as a white person, and that the systems of this society routinely slight them. Everyday that is their reality.
Those of us who are white know these things too, but we don’t experience them, and we can forget them and ignore them and even rationalize them away. But we don’t have to live with them. But if we can get a window, we can remind ourselves to think and act and see the world from the side of the oppressed rather than from our normal place as the privileged.
Paul’s “Easter experience” on the Damascus Road happened in a dramatic fashion. But for many of us, and I know that at least for me, the Easter Experience transformation has taken and is taking a lifetime. Nonetheless I see my situation as a white person in Paul’s story. Like Paul, at times I feel like I am blind to things that are going on right around me. Like Paul, I am confused and overwhelmed by the fact that I thought I was doing the right thing and the helpful thing, only to discover it was just the opposite. Like Paul just when I think I am beginning to understand, I realize how far I have to go. Like Paul, I realize I need an Ananias, someone not afraid to come along side of me, and pray with me and talk with me, and help me see what I am blind to see. Like Paul I realize I need people who are willing to engage me in a sacred conversation about this force called Racism that so often messes me up and gets in the way of constructive and meaningful relationships with people who are different than me.
And so I us to explore ways that we who are white & black or Filipino & Native American & Vietnamese or whatever race or ethnicity can engage in conversation about this force that divides and distorts us. And not only talk but then we act on what we learn.
Racism as a Power
In my experience when the issue of racism comes up, most whites feel either guilt or anger or both. Often they are angry because they feel like someone is trying to make them feel guilty. As white people we often feel we are being held accountable for something we didn’t do.
However, I want us to think about racism in broader, more systemic terms. I want us to think of it in terms of what Paul calls “principalities and powers” and in terms that Walter Wink talks about racism in his book, The Powers that Be. While racism is sometimes expressed in overt acts, the power of racism itself is a force in our society that is bigger than any one person or group. It is a force that distorts our sense of who we are and creates barriers between people of different racial and ethnic groups. In this sense it’s not so much that we have racism, but rather that racism has us. In order to resist racism , we first must recognize it’s power over us.
For those of who are white, racism is a force that often puts us in positions of power that we do not seek with privileges we did not ask for. It’s a power that grants those of us who are white a more exalted status as a group, while causing us to resist being seen as a group. One thing a white person doesn’t like to hear from people of color is that he or she is a “typical white person,” because we see ourselves as distinct individuals not as a group. At the same time racism excludes, distorts, makes sick, impoverishes and oppresses those who are not white. It is a power that causes people of different races to choose to live in different neighborhoods, worship at different churches, socialize in different places, and generally relate to people of their own group. Racism is a power that permeates the economic system, the political system, and the educational system. It is a power that is often joined with the powers of Classism and Sexism, which together can have a devastating effect on our sense of identity and our ability to live in community with others.
So when we talk about racism the issue is not about guilt, but rather about recognizing racism’s power over us , and then seeking ways to act responsibly against that power. We need to resist racism’s impact just like a recovering alcoholic has to resist the pull of the drug. Like an alcoholic we must admit that our lives have been shaped and influenced by racism and work diligently to unleash ourselves from the pull of that power. And like the alcoholic we can’t resist alone. To try to go it alone is to play back into racism’s power. We need a group and need to act as a group. In short we need to be in conversation with each other.
White Privilege
One of the first things we as whites must come to grips with is what is known as white privilege. The tricky thing with privilege is that it is largely invisible to those of us who are white, but glaringly obvious to those who are not. White privilege operates in subtle and devious ways. When I get on an elevator, women don’t back away in fear. When I walk into a grocery store, clerks don’t suspect me of shoplifting. When I drive through a predominantly black neighborhood, I don’t have to fear being stopped for being in the wrong place. These are “privileges” I enjoy that people of color can’t assume. Just because of the color of my skin, my children are more likely to own their own homes, go to a good school, get a better job, and earn a better a salary when they get that job.. These are privileges they enjoy simply because they are white. And as I said they didn’t ask for them, but they are there.
And unconsciously these privileges can slip over into the way we as whites interact with people of color. A year ago this past winter, I joined a class of the Alternative Seminary on the topic bridging the gap of race and class. We met for eight Tuesdays nights from January to March in a small Methodist church in North Philadelphia. The purpose of the course was to explore the forces that divide whites and people of color from each other and to think together about ways we could work more effectively across racial lines. The group consisted of somewhere between 15-20 people and was evenly divided between whites and African Americans. There were two Puerto Rican men who came the first two nights but did not continue. About 2/3 of the group were women and there were no African American men (although we did have some African American men come in as speakers). The group was facilitated by two women, one white and one black.
Now I went into that class thinking I had a pretty good handle on what racism was and how to communicate across differences. I had good relationships with my co-workers of color. I had even taught courses on the stuff. So I thought I was in pretty good shape when came to racism and I assumed the others in the group would see that and accept with open arms on that basis. But I was in for a big surprise because over that two month period I was confronted with the ways I talked and carried myself that unwittingly conveyed a sense of superiority and privilege to the people of color in the group. And because I was on their turf, they had no qualms in letting me know how arrogant I came across. It wasn’t I made any racist statements, I was just being my normal white self. To the other folks in the group I was conveying that I was a person of privilege.
Tobin Miller Shearer in the book, Set Free, says that white privilege tends to express itself in many different ways, one of which is a need to always be in control. In that group I wanted to be right, even if I was wrong. I wanted to be heard, even I needed to listen. I wanted my points to count, even if they were not pertinent. At the time I didn’t know why, but later I figured it out: as a white person, I was used to having my opinion count. I was used to being listened to and respected; that was my privilege as a white person. As painful as it was, that experience was invaluable for me because it forced me to see myself as others saw me. It forced me to see myself from a different perspective.
Paul’s Change in Perspective
And you see in Acts 9 that’s what happened to Paul; he went through a dramatic change of perspective. Luke tells us that Paul was “breathing out murderous threats” as he traveled on the road leading into the Syrian city of Damascus. He was on a mission to find, capture and imprison as many followers of Jesus as he could possibly round up.
And then he had this incredible vision of Jesus speaking to him out of the sky. He immediately went blind, and heard a voice saying to him “I am Jesus whom you are persecuting.” Now there are two things to note about this event. First of all, the people who were with Paul saw no light, saw no Jesus, and only heard a rumbling sound. So this was an intensely personal experience for Paul. Second, as far as we know Paul had never had any personal contact with Jesus before his death. So when Jesus accused Paul of persecuting him, Jesus was identifying himself with his followers; he was in essence saying that by seeking to imprison his followers, Paul was persecuting him. Up to this point Paul had seen himself as a hero and a servant of God’s people; all of a sudden he saw himself as a killer and an enemy of God’s people
Paul was directed by Jesus to go into the city and wait. After three days a man named Ananias came and prayed over him. With that prayer Paul’s blindness was removed, he was baptized, and he began an entirely new way of life. He dedicated himself telling folks about the life and message of this Jesus, and he suffered and eventually died for that purpose. What happened to Paul on the Damascus road was a dramatic change of perspective that turned him completely around from being a hunter to one of the hunted, from being a persecutor to one of the persecuted, from being an oppressor to one of the oppressed.
The Easter Experience
He had what Paulo Freire called an “Easter experience.” Paulo Freire was Brazilian educator who dedicated himself to using education as a means of helping poor and oppressed people gain the means to overcome their oppression and work for their liberation. His book, Pedagogy of the Oppressed, has inspired a whole generation of students, teachers, community organizers, and anti-poverty advocates. Freire was also a dedicated Christian. In a letter to a theology student he wrote that if non-oppressed people want to work in solidarity with oppressed persons for their liberation, they had to go through what he called an “Easter experience”. By that he meant was that those who are privileged need to go through a spiritual transformation that releases them from their attachment to power and enables them to see and experience the world from the vantage point of the oppressed. I believe that is what happened to Paul on the Damascus Road. That’s what happened to me in the Alternative Seminary course. I want to suggest that is what needs to happen to those of us who are white and privileged, if we are to truly stand by those who are limited and sometimes crushed by the injustice of racism.
I want to suggest that the gospel’s call to those of us who are white is to seek ways to let go of our control and privilege and undergo a spiritual transformation leading to a perspective change. It not just about whether we commit overt acts of discrimination, or whether we behave respectfully toward people of other races. No primarily it is about whether or not we are willing to recognize the advantages that our culture has afforded those of us who are white. And it’s about our willing to relinquish those privileges for the sake of justice and reconciliation.
Using Our Experience as a Window
Now when I bring this up, some white folks will say, “Wait a minute I’ve been a victim of discrimination, I’ve been despised because of my gender or my social class or my accent or even my white skin.” If that is the case then I say “good – hang onto that awareness.” Because as painful as those experiences have been, they have given you a window into what people of color experience nearly every day of their lives simply because they have a skin color other than white.
When I was in that group there were many times when I felt like I was being disregarded and ignored simply because I was white. And it ticked me off. There were times I wasn’t sure if people didn’t like what I said because they were simply dumb statement or if it was because I was this big talkative white guy. I’d go home all angry and confused, and then it dawned on me: this is what a lot of African American people, and Hispanic people, and Asian people and Native American people and immigrants go through every day. And it was like a window into their experience. And it helped me see things from another perspective. Every day people of color are reminded that they need to work a little bit harder and be a little bit smarter just to get to the same place white folks get. And if they do get a good job or a promotion, they have to deal with the question of whether they got it on their merits or because of some quota or affirmative action policy. Everyday people of color have to wonder if they are being heard or respected or ignored simply because of their skin color. Everyday when they pick up the newspaper or watch a news program they are reminded that their schools are underfunded, the courts sentence them to harsher and longer penalties, that they are not likely to get the same pay for the same job as a white person, and that the systems of this society routinely slight them. Everyday that is their reality.
Those of us who are white know these things too, but we don’t experience them, and we can forget them and ignore them and even rationalize them away. But we don’t have to live with them. But if we can get a window, we can remind ourselves to think and act and see the world from the side of the oppressed rather than from our normal place as the privileged.
Paul’s “Easter experience” on the Damascus Road happened in a dramatic fashion. But for many of us, and I know that at least for me, the Easter Experience transformation has taken and is taking a lifetime. Nonetheless I see my situation as a white person in Paul’s story. Like Paul, at times I feel like I am blind to things that are going on right around me. Like Paul, I am confused and overwhelmed by the fact that I thought I was doing the right thing and the helpful thing, only to discover it was just the opposite. Like Paul just when I think I am beginning to understand, I realize how far I have to go. Like Paul, I realize I need an Ananias, someone not afraid to come along side of me, and pray with me and talk with me, and help me see what I am blind to see. Like Paul I realize I need people who are willing to engage me in a sacred conversation about this force called Racism that so often messes me up and gets in the way of constructive and meaningful relationships with people who are different than me.
And so I us to explore ways that we who are white & black or Filipino & Native American & Vietnamese or whatever race or ethnicity can engage in conversation about this force that divides and distorts us. And not only talk but then we act on what we learn.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Differing Worldviews in Black and White
The recent controversy over Rev. Jeremiah Wright’s comments at the National Press Club on Tuesday, April 29 reveal how wide the divide still is between white and black Americans. I stumbled upon his comments while looking on You Tube for Rev Wright’s speech before the NAACP in Detroit the day before. In the National Press Club speech Rev. Wright outlined the prophetic role of the Black Church in U.S. history speaking not only of the work of James Cone (Black Theology of Liberation) and Martin Luther King, but also going back to days when slaves gathered in the woods to meet for worship. He linked this tradition to the prophets of the Hebrew Bible and to Jesus who often confronted the Pharisees and other powerbrokers of his day. Following the speech he was asked a series of questions about the controversial statements that had gained him so much attention in the past couple of months. Understandably he defended his statements and did not back down from what he had said previously. He also contrasted himself as a preacher answerable to God from Barack Obama who is a politician seeking to get elected. He pointed out that each was accountable to a different constituency. He was clear, forthright and truthful, even injecting a joke that he would be open to being vice-president.
So I was surprised and disturbed by the news reports that came out today saying he was “bombastic,” “defiant” and “incendiary.” Among his views that were criticized were statements such as these:
• "The government gives them [blacks] the drugs, builds bigger prisons, passes a three-strike law, and then wants us to sing 'God Bless America.' No, no, no. God damn America. That's in the Bible for killing innocent people. God damn America for treating our citizens as less than human. God damn America for as long as she acts like she is God and she is supreme."
• "We bombed Hiroshima, we bombed Nagasaki, and we nuked far more than the thousands in New York and the Pentagon, and we never batted an eye. . . . We have supported state terrorism against the Palestinians and black South Africans, and now we are indignant because the stuff we have done overseas is now brought right back to our own front yards. America's chickens are coming home to roost." (he also added that he was referring to a statement the U.S. Ambassador to Iraq at the time, Edward Peck, that the attacks may have been a response to U.S. actions in the Middle East).
• Louis Farrakhan is “one of the most important voices in the 20th and 21st century, that’s what I think about him… When Louis Farrakhan speaks, it's like E.F. Hutton speaks, all Black America listens. Whether they agree with him or not, they listen. Now I'm not going to put down Louis Farrakhan any more than Mandela would put down Fidel Castro..." [quoting Mandela from an interview with Ted Koppel when Mandela was asked about the Cuban dictator] "'You don't tell me who my friends are, you don't tell me who my enemies are.' Louis Farrakhan is not my enemy, he did not put me in chains, he did not put me in slavery and he didn't make me this color.
In his rejection of these comment Barack Obama distinguished his worldview for that of Rev. Wright’s. In fact what is at stake here is exactly that: a matter of worldview. For most white Americans such statements are outrageous and radical while for many African-Americans such statements have a ring of truth. While whites and blacks have lived and worked in the same land for 300+ years, our experience of that history is dramatically different and thus we see those events through dramatically different lenses.
For many white Americans it is fine for a President to close a TV address with “God bless America,” but do not ever suggest that God might condemn America for its actions. It is okay to criticize the government for its actions overseas, but don’t ever suggest that this government “of , by and for the people” would also implicate those of us who are its citizens. Patriotism means you not only love this country, but you don’t say anything critical of our consumptive lifestyle, or our expansionist military policies. Furthermore, anyone who is critical of the U.S. or its ally Israel, such as Louis Farrakhan, must be summarily repudiated. And while we can pay reparations to Jews suffering the Holocaust and Japanese-American interned during World War II, let’s not suggest that the legacy of slavery, Jim Crow ,segregation and racially based economic oppression do not need to be openly and publicly addressed.
Many of my African-American friends and colleagues would see things otherwise. While many, like Barack Obama, hope to move past the racial divide (as Obama said in his March 18 speech on racial issues in Philadelphia), we can’t move past something we have not as a nation truly admitted exists in the first place. While most White Americans recognize that slavery, Jim Crow, segregation and economic oppression happened, they are resistant to exploring the extent to which these historical realities still impact African-Americans today. Most White Americans don’t see, and therefore find hard to believe, that racial discrimination and marginalization are ongoing and present realities for most people of color in this nation. While there is much work to be done in the African American community around addressing issues such as family breakdown and counterproductive behaviors, like teenage pregnancy and drug abuse, this does not remove the historical and cultural forces that also impact people of color.
Unfortunately, what has happened in the last few months is that Barack Obama’s candidacy has confronted white Americans with the fact that we have not constructively dealt with the racial divide in our nation. The response to Rev. Wright’s comments has only served to bring to light the fact that many white and many black Americans see the world through widely different lenses. Until finger wagging can give way to honest dialogue, the divide will continue to exist and may even sadly widen.
So I was surprised and disturbed by the news reports that came out today saying he was “bombastic,” “defiant” and “incendiary.” Among his views that were criticized were statements such as these:
• "The government gives them [blacks] the drugs, builds bigger prisons, passes a three-strike law, and then wants us to sing 'God Bless America.' No, no, no. God damn America. That's in the Bible for killing innocent people. God damn America for treating our citizens as less than human. God damn America for as long as she acts like she is God and she is supreme."
• "We bombed Hiroshima, we bombed Nagasaki, and we nuked far more than the thousands in New York and the Pentagon, and we never batted an eye. . . . We have supported state terrorism against the Palestinians and black South Africans, and now we are indignant because the stuff we have done overseas is now brought right back to our own front yards. America's chickens are coming home to roost." (he also added that he was referring to a statement the U.S. Ambassador to Iraq at the time, Edward Peck, that the attacks may have been a response to U.S. actions in the Middle East).
• Louis Farrakhan is “one of the most important voices in the 20th and 21st century, that’s what I think about him… When Louis Farrakhan speaks, it's like E.F. Hutton speaks, all Black America listens. Whether they agree with him or not, they listen. Now I'm not going to put down Louis Farrakhan any more than Mandela would put down Fidel Castro..." [quoting Mandela from an interview with Ted Koppel when Mandela was asked about the Cuban dictator] "'You don't tell me who my friends are, you don't tell me who my enemies are.' Louis Farrakhan is not my enemy, he did not put me in chains, he did not put me in slavery and he didn't make me this color.
In his rejection of these comment Barack Obama distinguished his worldview for that of Rev. Wright’s. In fact what is at stake here is exactly that: a matter of worldview. For most white Americans such statements are outrageous and radical while for many African-Americans such statements have a ring of truth. While whites and blacks have lived and worked in the same land for 300+ years, our experience of that history is dramatically different and thus we see those events through dramatically different lenses.
For many white Americans it is fine for a President to close a TV address with “God bless America,” but do not ever suggest that God might condemn America for its actions. It is okay to criticize the government for its actions overseas, but don’t ever suggest that this government “of , by and for the people” would also implicate those of us who are its citizens. Patriotism means you not only love this country, but you don’t say anything critical of our consumptive lifestyle, or our expansionist military policies. Furthermore, anyone who is critical of the U.S. or its ally Israel, such as Louis Farrakhan, must be summarily repudiated. And while we can pay reparations to Jews suffering the Holocaust and Japanese-American interned during World War II, let’s not suggest that the legacy of slavery, Jim Crow ,segregation and racially based economic oppression do not need to be openly and publicly addressed.
Many of my African-American friends and colleagues would see things otherwise. While many, like Barack Obama, hope to move past the racial divide (as Obama said in his March 18 speech on racial issues in Philadelphia), we can’t move past something we have not as a nation truly admitted exists in the first place. While most White Americans recognize that slavery, Jim Crow, segregation and economic oppression happened, they are resistant to exploring the extent to which these historical realities still impact African-Americans today. Most White Americans don’t see, and therefore find hard to believe, that racial discrimination and marginalization are ongoing and present realities for most people of color in this nation. While there is much work to be done in the African American community around addressing issues such as family breakdown and counterproductive behaviors, like teenage pregnancy and drug abuse, this does not remove the historical and cultural forces that also impact people of color.
Unfortunately, what has happened in the last few months is that Barack Obama’s candidacy has confronted white Americans with the fact that we have not constructively dealt with the racial divide in our nation. The response to Rev. Wright’s comments has only served to bring to light the fact that many white and many black Americans see the world through widely different lenses. Until finger wagging can give way to honest dialogue, the divide will continue to exist and may even sadly widen.
Friday, April 04, 2008
What and How I Believe
Recently, I read two chapters from Marcus Borg's book, Jesus and was particularly interested in his discussion of the two paradigms of contemporary Christianity: the belief-centered and the emerging paradigms. I don’t read Marcus Borg often but when I do I find that I often agree with his analysis, but when it comes to interpretation/application he and I go off in different directions. When I begin to think that I might be becoming a theological liberal, Borg reminds me I really am not. However, I was also struck by the absence of a third, much more compelling, paradigm.
Borg first talks about what he calls the belief centered paradigm of Christianity. In that context he discusses the effect the Enlightenment had on the Christian understanding of belief. Prior to the Enlightenment belief or faith was synonymous with trust in and loyalty to God. The Enlightenment challenged the factual basis of Christian faith with its scientific worldview and critical stance toward anything that was not able to be grasped by the five senses. Thus, he says in Christian circles there was a shift from "belief in" to "belief that." In other words the trust/loyalty view of faith gave way to an affirmation of certain “truths’ and doctrines. I think that is a helpful discussion, and today it is true that for many churchgoers a "belief that" approach to faith is all that seems to matter. Many churchgoing folks seem to think that as long as they believe certain truths, that is all there is to being a Christian.
However, for most evangelicals this is a false dichotomy because the "belief that" leads to and supports the "belief in." So for instance, my belief that Jesus is a savior, leads me to entrust my life to Jesus; belief in a doctrine leads me to seek a relationship with God thru Jesus Christ. Borg rightly stresses the trust/loyalty dimension of faith as most important, but for many theologically conservative Christians, they are two sides of the same coin. Borg believes one can have a belief in God without a belief that certain things are true about God. I find it is sort of like building a house without a framework; one hangs on the other.
However, I was reminded recently at how middle class, educated and white this whole discussion is. Quite by accident I came across an article called "The Christian Revolution" (someone left it on the copier at work) from a book by Philip Jenkins called The Next Christendom: The Coming of Global Christianity. Jenkins points out that the plurality of Christians has shifted from Europe and North America to Africa, Latin America and increasingly Asia. He points out "beyond the simple demographic transition, there are countless implications for theology and practice." For instance, a major implication is that moving into the future the vast majority of Christians are and will be relatively impoverished and live life on the edge of material sustenance. As a result, their world and worldview is much closer that of the first century Christians. They know what Howard Thurman means in Jesus and the Disinherited when he says that the message of Jesus was a "survival strategy" for the oppressed. Writing as an oppressed person Jesus speaks out of and into their situation much more readily. Jenkins says that for the vast majority of Christians in the world, this is a truth that literally sustains them day to day. He calls those of us in North America to take notice that our way of thinking is not the only game in town and isn’t even the biggest or most important game. He calls us to reconsider our Enlightenment-based arrogance and blindness to the reality of the supernatural.
Jenkins points out that for most of the world’s Christians belief in the supernatural and the possibility of miracles, healings and other examples of God breaking into the natural order are not a troubling intellectual dilemma, but a life-affirming and life-saving strategy. Their testimony is that God is at work in the world in these ways. I see this same mindset in some of my students, who come from the underside of U.S. society. God's movement in their lives is real in a way that as an educated, white, middle class intellectual I find hard to accept. Even so I find their testimony compelling.
In the end Jenkins causes me to reconsider my framework --- have I so bought into Enlightenment thinking that I have become blind to what Jesus and the people of his day saw as a natural part of reality, and which people in the developing world have come to see is their lifeline to God? It is a question I can not shake.
Borg first talks about what he calls the belief centered paradigm of Christianity. In that context he discusses the effect the Enlightenment had on the Christian understanding of belief. Prior to the Enlightenment belief or faith was synonymous with trust in and loyalty to God. The Enlightenment challenged the factual basis of Christian faith with its scientific worldview and critical stance toward anything that was not able to be grasped by the five senses. Thus, he says in Christian circles there was a shift from "belief in" to "belief that." In other words the trust/loyalty view of faith gave way to an affirmation of certain “truths’ and doctrines. I think that is a helpful discussion, and today it is true that for many churchgoers a "belief that" approach to faith is all that seems to matter. Many churchgoing folks seem to think that as long as they believe certain truths, that is all there is to being a Christian.
However, for most evangelicals this is a false dichotomy because the "belief that" leads to and supports the "belief in." So for instance, my belief that Jesus is a savior, leads me to entrust my life to Jesus; belief in a doctrine leads me to seek a relationship with God thru Jesus Christ. Borg rightly stresses the trust/loyalty dimension of faith as most important, but for many theologically conservative Christians, they are two sides of the same coin. Borg believes one can have a belief in God without a belief that certain things are true about God. I find it is sort of like building a house without a framework; one hangs on the other.
However, I was reminded recently at how middle class, educated and white this whole discussion is. Quite by accident I came across an article called "The Christian Revolution" (someone left it on the copier at work) from a book by Philip Jenkins called The Next Christendom: The Coming of Global Christianity. Jenkins points out that the plurality of Christians has shifted from Europe and North America to Africa, Latin America and increasingly Asia. He points out "beyond the simple demographic transition, there are countless implications for theology and practice." For instance, a major implication is that moving into the future the vast majority of Christians are and will be relatively impoverished and live life on the edge of material sustenance. As a result, their world and worldview is much closer that of the first century Christians. They know what Howard Thurman means in Jesus and the Disinherited when he says that the message of Jesus was a "survival strategy" for the oppressed. Writing as an oppressed person Jesus speaks out of and into their situation much more readily. Jenkins says that for the vast majority of Christians in the world, this is a truth that literally sustains them day to day. He calls those of us in North America to take notice that our way of thinking is not the only game in town and isn’t even the biggest or most important game. He calls us to reconsider our Enlightenment-based arrogance and blindness to the reality of the supernatural.
Jenkins points out that for most of the world’s Christians belief in the supernatural and the possibility of miracles, healings and other examples of God breaking into the natural order are not a troubling intellectual dilemma, but a life-affirming and life-saving strategy. Their testimony is that God is at work in the world in these ways. I see this same mindset in some of my students, who come from the underside of U.S. society. God's movement in their lives is real in a way that as an educated, white, middle class intellectual I find hard to accept. Even so I find their testimony compelling.
In the end Jenkins causes me to reconsider my framework --- have I so bought into Enlightenment thinking that I have become blind to what Jesus and the people of his day saw as a natural part of reality, and which people in the developing world have come to see is their lifeline to God? It is a question I can not shake.
Friday, March 21, 2008
The Role of Prophets
Barack Obama’s speech “A More Perfect Union” on Tuesday March 18 both addressed some concerns about his candidacy and raised some important questions regarding the place of race and ethnicity in the collective psyche of this country. In that speech he spoke extensively about his relationship with Rev Jeremiah Wright, Jr., his pastor and father figure, whose comments regarding the United States of America and its sad history of racism have been played and re-played (out of context) in the media and on the Internet. In addition to raising important issues around race, Rev. Wright’s comments raise some important questions about the role of religion, particularly Christian faith, in our public and cultural life. Because while many refer to Rev. Wright as a “firebrand” and “controversial,” in the Christian Biblical tradition Rev. Wright is called a prophet.
In the Biblical tradition, the prophet was often one who challenged the status quo and those who benefited from the oppression and deprivation of others. Prophets often said things that people didn’t want to hear but needed to hear, such as when the prophet Nathan confronted King David for his wanton abuse of power and position (II Samuel 12). For their remarks prophets were often imprisoned (Jeremiah), exiled (Amos), denigrated in public discourse (Hosea) or killed (John the Baptist). They were often considered eccentric (Ezekiel) and suffered physical and social isolation (Elijah). Thus, prophets tended to live unnaturally shortened lives. Jesus himself referred to the frequent persecutions experienced by the prophets, and commended his followers to take heart from their example when they too came under fire (Matthew 5.11-12).
Somehow in our Western Culture many have forgotten and neglected to appreciate the role of the prophet in our midst. In his book, The Devaluing of America, former Education Secretary William Bennett, a devout Roman Catholic, criticizes pastors and priests who opposed U.S. policies on Central America and the Persian Gulf War I for being “out of step” with their congregations, while at the same time arguing for a proper place for religion to be discussed in public schools. He states that “American culture and American greatness – perhaps more accurately American goodness – draw strength and direction from the Judeo-Christian tradition” (p. 208).Yet a few pages later he laments “the chasm that now separates the values of many church leaders from those of the American people (p. 223). The implication of these statements is that the role of religion is to support the actions and values of our culture and not to challenge them. It is this same underlying assumption that has led so many political leaders, media commentators, and regular citizens to consider Rev. Wright’s views “out of bounds.” Apparently, despite our Judeo-Christian heritage, we don’t tolerate our prophets any better than our Biblical forbears.
Bennett, like many others of his perspective, in his book refers to the legacy of Martin Luther King, and quotes his “I Have a Dream Speech,” focusing on the famous line that people should be judged “not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.” Some contemporary commentators, like Bennett, use these words even to suggest that Dr. King would not support today’s affirmative action policies that make a race or gender a factor in hiring or admissions policies. Yet, what is conveniently forgotten is the fact that when Dr. King uttered those famous words, he was considered a far greater threat than Rev. Wright ever will be, to the point that he was constantly being shadowed by the FBI and numerous hate groups.
Moreover, when King’s 1963 speech is intoned, it is often done without remembering the later King, who criticized U.S. foreign policy in Vietnam and challenged the basic assumptions underlying U.S. involvement in Southeast Asia. On April 4, 1967 over the objections of friends and foes alike, King delivered a sermon entitled “Beyond Vietnam” at Riverside Church in New York. In that sermon he came out forcefully against U.S. policy in Vietnam. He said that the war was poisoning American’s soul and that the violence in urban ghettoes was tied to the violence in Vietnam. He warned that if the nation did not reverse its policy in Vietnam, “we shall surely be dragged down the long, dark, and shameful corridors of time reserved for those who possess power without compassion, might without morality, and strength without sight.”
For these words King was vilified in the press and lost his access to Lyndon Johnson at the White House. Like Jeremiah Wright, Martin Luther King spoke words the nation neither felt willing nor ready to hear. Time has sanitized our view of King, so that now he is a national hero. How quickly we forget the angst he created in our national soul, so that we rejected his words and impugned his character. How quickly we forget that the truth of his words was not readily accepted and only much later was seen as justified.
In fact one could walk through the course of U.S. history and see numerous instances of prophets who said words that in retrospect we realize the nation needed to hear, but at the time were labeled as firebrands and malcontents: Samuel Adams, Frederick Douglass, Elijah Lovejoy, Sojourner Truth, W.E.B Dubois, Dorothy Day, Betty Freidan, Malcolm X, Cesar Chavez, Myles Horton, Shirley Chisholm, and Ralph Nader. Many other names could be added to the list. The point is that often it is the prophets who challenge us to move beyond the complacency of the status quo to a higher purpose.
On this Easter weekend, we remember the death of Jesus on a Roman cross on a hill outside Jerusalem. He was not killed because people saw him as “gentle Jesus, meek and mild.” He was killed because his words and his actions called attention to injustice, hypocrisy and immorality at all levels of society. Like those before and after him, Jesus was a prophet. Those of us who embrace Christian faith also consider him to be a savior, but that does not diminish his role as a prophet who paid an ultimate price. Prophets still rise from time to time (and not always Christian, by the way). That is at the heart and genius of the Judeo-Christian tradition. So when a preacher or some other outspoken person says things that cause our ears to burn and our stomachs to churn, perhaps we need to listen; we may be hearing the words of a prophet.
In the Biblical tradition, the prophet was often one who challenged the status quo and those who benefited from the oppression and deprivation of others. Prophets often said things that people didn’t want to hear but needed to hear, such as when the prophet Nathan confronted King David for his wanton abuse of power and position (II Samuel 12). For their remarks prophets were often imprisoned (Jeremiah), exiled (Amos), denigrated in public discourse (Hosea) or killed (John the Baptist). They were often considered eccentric (Ezekiel) and suffered physical and social isolation (Elijah). Thus, prophets tended to live unnaturally shortened lives. Jesus himself referred to the frequent persecutions experienced by the prophets, and commended his followers to take heart from their example when they too came under fire (Matthew 5.11-12).
Somehow in our Western Culture many have forgotten and neglected to appreciate the role of the prophet in our midst. In his book, The Devaluing of America, former Education Secretary William Bennett, a devout Roman Catholic, criticizes pastors and priests who opposed U.S. policies on Central America and the Persian Gulf War I for being “out of step” with their congregations, while at the same time arguing for a proper place for religion to be discussed in public schools. He states that “American culture and American greatness – perhaps more accurately American goodness – draw strength and direction from the Judeo-Christian tradition” (p. 208).Yet a few pages later he laments “the chasm that now separates the values of many church leaders from those of the American people (p. 223). The implication of these statements is that the role of religion is to support the actions and values of our culture and not to challenge them. It is this same underlying assumption that has led so many political leaders, media commentators, and regular citizens to consider Rev. Wright’s views “out of bounds.” Apparently, despite our Judeo-Christian heritage, we don’t tolerate our prophets any better than our Biblical forbears.
Bennett, like many others of his perspective, in his book refers to the legacy of Martin Luther King, and quotes his “I Have a Dream Speech,” focusing on the famous line that people should be judged “not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.” Some contemporary commentators, like Bennett, use these words even to suggest that Dr. King would not support today’s affirmative action policies that make a race or gender a factor in hiring or admissions policies. Yet, what is conveniently forgotten is the fact that when Dr. King uttered those famous words, he was considered a far greater threat than Rev. Wright ever will be, to the point that he was constantly being shadowed by the FBI and numerous hate groups.
Moreover, when King’s 1963 speech is intoned, it is often done without remembering the later King, who criticized U.S. foreign policy in Vietnam and challenged the basic assumptions underlying U.S. involvement in Southeast Asia. On April 4, 1967 over the objections of friends and foes alike, King delivered a sermon entitled “Beyond Vietnam” at Riverside Church in New York. In that sermon he came out forcefully against U.S. policy in Vietnam. He said that the war was poisoning American’s soul and that the violence in urban ghettoes was tied to the violence in Vietnam. He warned that if the nation did not reverse its policy in Vietnam, “we shall surely be dragged down the long, dark, and shameful corridors of time reserved for those who possess power without compassion, might without morality, and strength without sight.”
For these words King was vilified in the press and lost his access to Lyndon Johnson at the White House. Like Jeremiah Wright, Martin Luther King spoke words the nation neither felt willing nor ready to hear. Time has sanitized our view of King, so that now he is a national hero. How quickly we forget the angst he created in our national soul, so that we rejected his words and impugned his character. How quickly we forget that the truth of his words was not readily accepted and only much later was seen as justified.
In fact one could walk through the course of U.S. history and see numerous instances of prophets who said words that in retrospect we realize the nation needed to hear, but at the time were labeled as firebrands and malcontents: Samuel Adams, Frederick Douglass, Elijah Lovejoy, Sojourner Truth, W.E.B Dubois, Dorothy Day, Betty Freidan, Malcolm X, Cesar Chavez, Myles Horton, Shirley Chisholm, and Ralph Nader. Many other names could be added to the list. The point is that often it is the prophets who challenge us to move beyond the complacency of the status quo to a higher purpose.
On this Easter weekend, we remember the death of Jesus on a Roman cross on a hill outside Jerusalem. He was not killed because people saw him as “gentle Jesus, meek and mild.” He was killed because his words and his actions called attention to injustice, hypocrisy and immorality at all levels of society. Like those before and after him, Jesus was a prophet. Those of us who embrace Christian faith also consider him to be a savior, but that does not diminish his role as a prophet who paid an ultimate price. Prophets still rise from time to time (and not always Christian, by the way). That is at the heart and genius of the Judeo-Christian tradition. So when a preacher or some other outspoken person says things that cause our ears to burn and our stomachs to churn, perhaps we need to listen; we may be hearing the words of a prophet.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Jeremiah Wright, Jr. Was Right
I was troubled to learn that the Associated Press reported that Barack Obama had “denounced” remarks made by his pastor, Rev. Jeremiah Wright, Jr. and had removed Wright from his role as his spiritual advisor. According to the Associated Press, Rev. Wright made “inflammatory remarks” following the Sept 11, 2001 terrorists’ attacks and was characterized as having “railed against the United States and accused the country of bringing on the Sept. 11 attacks by spreading terrorism.”
The first thing that confused me was why was Obama being held accountable for things his pastor said. From my years as a pastor I know there were many times I said things that my parishioners disagreed with. Part of my pastoral role was to provoke thought, and sometimes we simply had an honest difference of opinion. I, not they, was responsible for my views. Second, “the “inflammatory remarks” made by Rev Wright were part of a larger sermon, but the rest of that sermon is not reported. So we don’t know the full context of his remarks. However, third, from what I can tell, Rev. Wright spoke the truth.
The statement in question (as reported by the AP), spoken on the Sunday following the 9/11 attacks, was as follows:
“We bombed Hiroshima, we bombed Nagasaki, and we nuked far more than the thousands in New York and the Pentagon, and we never batted an eye," … "We have supported state terrorism against the Palestinians and black South Africans, and now we are indignant because the stuff we have done overseas is now brought right back to our own front yards. America's chickens are coming home to roost."
I suspect that in the rest of his sermon, Rev. Wright, whom I have heard speak and whose ministry is well known, expressed remorse for the families of the victims. However, what this statement highlights is that what happened on 9/11 did not happen in a vacuum. U.S. foreign policy has placed the United States on the wrong side of many actions, and millions of innocent people have died at the hands of our bombs, and still are. While what happened on 9/11 was a heinous act of vengeance, it makes sense in the larger cycle of violence of which we are a part.
On the Sunday after 9/11 the pastor of the church that I was attending talked about a conversation she had with a Kenyan seminary student. The Kenyan told the American woman, “Now you have experienced and know what I and millions of other people around the world have suffered for decades.” We had become victims of the same violence that had so often been used against others, often with our consent and our weapons.
About six weeks after the 9/11 attacks, Dr. Phyllis Cunningham, an adult educator, from Northern Illinois University spoke at a conference I attended in Austin, Texas. She noted that at that time American citizens were asking “Why would anyone want to attack the U.S. like they did on 9/11?” Dr. Cunningham told the gathered group of educators, “If people do not know the answer to that question, then we are not doing our job.” While thousands of U.S. citizens were directly or indirectly victimized by the 9/11 attacks, all of us were either unconscious or willing participants in a cycle of violence where often our weapons and our military were perpetrators rather than victims. While we denounce terrorist organizations like Hamas, Al-Qaeda and the Taliban, in the past our government has supported repressive regimes like South Africa, Israel, Guatemala, and throughout Latin America. This past week, the Congress failed to override a presidential veto on a bill that would have prevented the United States from using acts of torture we so freely condemn others for. In Rev. Wright’s colloquial expression “the chickens came home to roost.”
I am reminded of a line uttered by Jack Nicholson in the 1992 movie “A Few Good Men.” Nicholson plays Col. Nathan Jessup, commander of the Navy base at Guantanamo Bay base on the tip of Cuba. Lt. Daniel Kafee (played by Tom Cruise) investigates the suspicious death of one of Jessup’s men, and eventually Col. Jessup is brought before a military tribunal. At a climactic moment in the film Lt. Kafee demands that Col. Jessup tell the truth of what happened under his command. In anger and defiance Jessup/Nicholson screams: “The truth! You can’t handle the truth!”
The problem with many Americans is that we can not handle the truth in Rev. Wright’s words. We would rather continue in our self-deception that we are innocent victims rather than participants in a cycle of violence that shattered us on 9/11, and to which we continue to contribute in our current “surge” in Iraq and elsewhere. Violence that kills anyone anywhere, especially innocent civilians, is tragic and regrettable. However, let us not delude ourselves in to thinking that somehow the violence of the present is not linked to the violence of past, and that our continued participation in the violence in the present will not contribute to more innocent victims of violence in the future. We operate under the illusion that violence will end the violence, when in fact all it does is keep the cycle going.
Senator Obama, for political reasons I am sure, chose to distance himself from the obvious truth his pastor spoke. Perhaps it was because he truly disagreed with Rev. Wright’s statement, or maybe it was because he would rather continue in the cycle of violence, rather than grapple with the truth. In any case, his remarks are disappointing and regrettable because in my view Rev Wright was right.
The first thing that confused me was why was Obama being held accountable for things his pastor said. From my years as a pastor I know there were many times I said things that my parishioners disagreed with. Part of my pastoral role was to provoke thought, and sometimes we simply had an honest difference of opinion. I, not they, was responsible for my views. Second, “the “inflammatory remarks” made by Rev Wright were part of a larger sermon, but the rest of that sermon is not reported. So we don’t know the full context of his remarks. However, third, from what I can tell, Rev. Wright spoke the truth.
The statement in question (as reported by the AP), spoken on the Sunday following the 9/11 attacks, was as follows:
“We bombed Hiroshima, we bombed Nagasaki, and we nuked far more than the thousands in New York and the Pentagon, and we never batted an eye," … "We have supported state terrorism against the Palestinians and black South Africans, and now we are indignant because the stuff we have done overseas is now brought right back to our own front yards. America's chickens are coming home to roost."
I suspect that in the rest of his sermon, Rev. Wright, whom I have heard speak and whose ministry is well known, expressed remorse for the families of the victims. However, what this statement highlights is that what happened on 9/11 did not happen in a vacuum. U.S. foreign policy has placed the United States on the wrong side of many actions, and millions of innocent people have died at the hands of our bombs, and still are. While what happened on 9/11 was a heinous act of vengeance, it makes sense in the larger cycle of violence of which we are a part.
On the Sunday after 9/11 the pastor of the church that I was attending talked about a conversation she had with a Kenyan seminary student. The Kenyan told the American woman, “Now you have experienced and know what I and millions of other people around the world have suffered for decades.” We had become victims of the same violence that had so often been used against others, often with our consent and our weapons.
About six weeks after the 9/11 attacks, Dr. Phyllis Cunningham, an adult educator, from Northern Illinois University spoke at a conference I attended in Austin, Texas. She noted that at that time American citizens were asking “Why would anyone want to attack the U.S. like they did on 9/11?” Dr. Cunningham told the gathered group of educators, “If people do not know the answer to that question, then we are not doing our job.” While thousands of U.S. citizens were directly or indirectly victimized by the 9/11 attacks, all of us were either unconscious or willing participants in a cycle of violence where often our weapons and our military were perpetrators rather than victims. While we denounce terrorist organizations like Hamas, Al-Qaeda and the Taliban, in the past our government has supported repressive regimes like South Africa, Israel, Guatemala, and throughout Latin America. This past week, the Congress failed to override a presidential veto on a bill that would have prevented the United States from using acts of torture we so freely condemn others for. In Rev. Wright’s colloquial expression “the chickens came home to roost.”
I am reminded of a line uttered by Jack Nicholson in the 1992 movie “A Few Good Men.” Nicholson plays Col. Nathan Jessup, commander of the Navy base at Guantanamo Bay base on the tip of Cuba. Lt. Daniel Kafee (played by Tom Cruise) investigates the suspicious death of one of Jessup’s men, and eventually Col. Jessup is brought before a military tribunal. At a climactic moment in the film Lt. Kafee demands that Col. Jessup tell the truth of what happened under his command. In anger and defiance Jessup/Nicholson screams: “The truth! You can’t handle the truth!”
The problem with many Americans is that we can not handle the truth in Rev. Wright’s words. We would rather continue in our self-deception that we are innocent victims rather than participants in a cycle of violence that shattered us on 9/11, and to which we continue to contribute in our current “surge” in Iraq and elsewhere. Violence that kills anyone anywhere, especially innocent civilians, is tragic and regrettable. However, let us not delude ourselves in to thinking that somehow the violence of the present is not linked to the violence of past, and that our continued participation in the violence in the present will not contribute to more innocent victims of violence in the future. We operate under the illusion that violence will end the violence, when in fact all it does is keep the cycle going.
Senator Obama, for political reasons I am sure, chose to distance himself from the obvious truth his pastor spoke. Perhaps it was because he truly disagreed with Rev. Wright’s statement, or maybe it was because he would rather continue in the cycle of violence, rather than grapple with the truth. In any case, his remarks are disappointing and regrettable because in my view Rev Wright was right.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Why I hate to be called a “liberal”
Most people who hear my views on various issues (such as those expressed in this blog), refer to me as “liberal.” I have always bristled at being labeled with that term, just as I have refrained from using its opposite “conservative” when referring to those who disagree with me. While sometimes labels can serve to properly categorize people’s views, the words “liberal” and “conservative,” especially when applied to a person’s social or political (and even theological views), are often used as a way of dismissing a person’s perspective altogether because they are one of “them” and not one of “us.” I hate being considered one of “them,” and conversely, I am uncomfortable being allowed into the club of “us.”
This disdain for the conservative/liberal labeling was reinforced recently when I read William Bennett’s book, The Devaluing of America: The Fight for our Culture and Our Children. William Bennett was the drug czar in the Bush I administration and chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts and Education Secretary under President Reagan. The blurb on the book’s back cover referred to him as “one of our leading conservatives.” I was interested in reading the book because since he was education secretary and even now, Bennett has been one of the leading opponents of multicultural education. I had read his Book of Virtues, and found it uplifting – a group of stories illustrating the basic human virtues necessary for civilized living - even so, I expected that Devaluing of America would stoke my ire.
However, what I found was surprising. I found that I agreed with William Bennett on many things, partially agreed on others, and vehemently disagreed on others. For instance, I was very impressed with the strong case he made for the idea that education does not simply impart knowledge, but also shapes character. His concern for the plight of the poor and impoverished was palpable, and his comprehensive approach to addressing the drug crisis in the U.S (law enforcement, interdiction of drugs, provision of treatment, education for prevention) was right on. On the issue of racism, I think he recognized the depth of the problem, but like many privileged, white Americans (of which I would also count myself), he failed to appreciate the social, psychological, and economic legacy of racism and the continuing effects centuries of slavery and institutional racism; his answer to racial problems was basically “get over it” and let’s be a color blind society. I don’t think it’s that simple. In education his concern that students learn and know the classics of Western Civilization is admirable, but in an increasingly diverse society a multicultural perspective is absolutely vital. His biggest blind spot in my view is the assumption that the culture of the US should not and can not change despite the fact that we are becoming increasingly diverse; he believes that all folks should assimilate to the basically European cultural framework and belief system bequeathed to us by the Founding Fathers, and that our culture should and can not expand to incorporate the views and beliefs of others.
However, “the culture wars,” as he calls this last issue, is the only thing William Bennett and I clearly and completely disagreed on. With the rest we were in varying degrees of agreement and disagreement, and he is a “conservative” and I am a “liberal.” Such labels become meaningless when you break it down. I believe William Bennett to be an intelligent, honorable and reasonable person, not the pariah that some folks might say he is. Had I accepted that characterization, I might not have read his book, and considered his views. It seems to me that this kind of meaningful dialogue has been largely lost in our social and political dialogue in part because of this tendency to label and therefore dismiss folks.
Unfortunately and paradoxically for me, Bennett does freely use the labels of “conservative” and “liberal" when referring to his friends and opponents. Now in part this is due to the fact that he served in government and wrote this book (1992) during the Reagan era when “liberal” and “conservative" bashing was rampant, as it is now. Furthermore, time has moderated some of his views; what seemed "conservative" 20 years ago is more mainstream today. Because of his labeling I almost didn’t get past the first chapter where he mercilessly criticizes the “liberal cultural elite” (particularly college professors) for their support of the Sandinistas in the mid 80’s, their opposition to Persian Gulf War I, and their criticism of his decisions to restrict funding on certain art projects when he was chair of the National Endowment for the Arts. He refers to this liberal cultural elite as “skeptical and mistrustful of American Society" …and “marked by alienation, suspicion and doubt.” He accuses them of rejecting “American ideals.” As one who opposed US policy in Nicaragua and who marched against the Persian Gulf War I, I would like to be given more credit than simply being skeptical and mistrustful. I would like to be thought of one who exercised the American ideal of free speech. I would like to have my ideas and concerns taken seriously. That is why I hate labels, and why continued to read Bill Bennett’s book despite those opening salvos, and I’m glad I did.
Depending on the issue I may be “conservative” (morals in education, family values, religion), “liberal” (immigration, gun control policy), moderate (drug policy) or downright radical (economic policy; the political system). If you can come up with a label for that, I’ll accept it. Otherwise, leave your labels at home, and let’s just talk and listen to each other.
This disdain for the conservative/liberal labeling was reinforced recently when I read William Bennett’s book, The Devaluing of America: The Fight for our Culture and Our Children. William Bennett was the drug czar in the Bush I administration and chairman of the National Endowment for the Arts and Education Secretary under President Reagan. The blurb on the book’s back cover referred to him as “one of our leading conservatives.” I was interested in reading the book because since he was education secretary and even now, Bennett has been one of the leading opponents of multicultural education. I had read his Book of Virtues, and found it uplifting – a group of stories illustrating the basic human virtues necessary for civilized living - even so, I expected that Devaluing of America would stoke my ire.
However, what I found was surprising. I found that I agreed with William Bennett on many things, partially agreed on others, and vehemently disagreed on others. For instance, I was very impressed with the strong case he made for the idea that education does not simply impart knowledge, but also shapes character. His concern for the plight of the poor and impoverished was palpable, and his comprehensive approach to addressing the drug crisis in the U.S (law enforcement, interdiction of drugs, provision of treatment, education for prevention) was right on. On the issue of racism, I think he recognized the depth of the problem, but like many privileged, white Americans (of which I would also count myself), he failed to appreciate the social, psychological, and economic legacy of racism and the continuing effects centuries of slavery and institutional racism; his answer to racial problems was basically “get over it” and let’s be a color blind society. I don’t think it’s that simple. In education his concern that students learn and know the classics of Western Civilization is admirable, but in an increasingly diverse society a multicultural perspective is absolutely vital. His biggest blind spot in my view is the assumption that the culture of the US should not and can not change despite the fact that we are becoming increasingly diverse; he believes that all folks should assimilate to the basically European cultural framework and belief system bequeathed to us by the Founding Fathers, and that our culture should and can not expand to incorporate the views and beliefs of others.
However, “the culture wars,” as he calls this last issue, is the only thing William Bennett and I clearly and completely disagreed on. With the rest we were in varying degrees of agreement and disagreement, and he is a “conservative” and I am a “liberal.” Such labels become meaningless when you break it down. I believe William Bennett to be an intelligent, honorable and reasonable person, not the pariah that some folks might say he is. Had I accepted that characterization, I might not have read his book, and considered his views. It seems to me that this kind of meaningful dialogue has been largely lost in our social and political dialogue in part because of this tendency to label and therefore dismiss folks.
Unfortunately and paradoxically for me, Bennett does freely use the labels of “conservative” and “liberal" when referring to his friends and opponents. Now in part this is due to the fact that he served in government and wrote this book (1992) during the Reagan era when “liberal” and “conservative" bashing was rampant, as it is now. Furthermore, time has moderated some of his views; what seemed "conservative" 20 years ago is more mainstream today. Because of his labeling I almost didn’t get past the first chapter where he mercilessly criticizes the “liberal cultural elite” (particularly college professors) for their support of the Sandinistas in the mid 80’s, their opposition to Persian Gulf War I, and their criticism of his decisions to restrict funding on certain art projects when he was chair of the National Endowment for the Arts. He refers to this liberal cultural elite as “skeptical and mistrustful of American Society" …and “marked by alienation, suspicion and doubt.” He accuses them of rejecting “American ideals.” As one who opposed US policy in Nicaragua and who marched against the Persian Gulf War I, I would like to be given more credit than simply being skeptical and mistrustful. I would like to be thought of one who exercised the American ideal of free speech. I would like to have my ideas and concerns taken seriously. That is why I hate labels, and why continued to read Bill Bennett’s book despite those opening salvos, and I’m glad I did.
Depending on the issue I may be “conservative” (morals in education, family values, religion), “liberal” (immigration, gun control policy), moderate (drug policy) or downright radical (economic policy; the political system). If you can come up with a label for that, I’ll accept it. Otherwise, leave your labels at home, and let’s just talk and listen to each other.
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Hope Vs. Realism
Today in church, the pastor was talking about hope, and I got to thinking about the current knock on Barack Obama’s message of hope. Hillary Clinton and John McCain attack Obama as simply having nice-sounding words with no substance. McCain and Clinton have a legitimate right to challenge Obama to speak specifically and concretely about his potential plans and policies. However, underneath their political jabs is the troubling and cynical assumption that there is no such think as hope, because one must be "realistic!" To the "realist," hope seems like a pipdream. Given this cynical attitude, it is no wonder Obama entitled his latest book The Audacity of Hope; to purveyors of American real politick Obama’s message is an affront.
Over the last couple of years I have been studying the life and work of Paulo Freire, a Brazilian educator who developed a method of literacy training that enabled thousands of illiterate campesinos to read in a matter of months. His methods were so successful that the Brazilian government imprisoned him for sedition, and eventually exiled him. The ruling elite didn’t trust someone who would teach folks how to read, because then those same folks were able figure out that their so-called leaders were working in ways that limited their opportunities and caused their suffering. Freire spent his 20 year exile traveling the globe sharing his message and educational philosophy. Late in life when the Brazilian government changed hands, he was allowed back into the country where he held a government post as Education Minister until his death in 1997.
Throughout much of his life Freire sought to raise the prospects of the poorest of the world’s poor by giving them one of the most valuable tools for advancing one’s station in life: the ability to read. His work came to light in the English speaking world with the English translation of his seminal work, Pedagogy of the Oppressed in 1970.Freire understood that what he was doing had political implications, and thus he taught his students to not only read the word, but also “read the world” and the forces that oppressed them. Through this process of consciouness raising, Freire's method empowered poor folks to challenge their oppressors and change their conditions.
Despite his personal struggles and the powerful opposition he faced, Paulo Freire was always known as a joyful man full of hope. Thus, it is fitting that one of his last writings was entitled Pedagogy of Hope, which was a retrospective on the working out of ideas expressed decades before in Pedagogy of Oppressed.
Denis Collins, one of Freire’s biographers, said of him,
“How is one to account for the optimism of Paulo Freire?… Freire’s life and work as an educator is optimistic in spite of poverty, imprisonment and exile…. On a planet where more than half the people go hungry every day because nations are incapable of feeding all their citizens, where we cannot agree that every being has a right to eat, Paulo Freire toils to help men and women overcome their sense of powerlessness to act on their own behalf” (Denis Collins, Paulo Freire: His Life, Works, and Thought).
Freire himself put it this way late in his life when he wrote: “Above all my difference lies in my critical, in no-way-naïve optimism and the hope that encourages me and that does not exist for the fatalistic” (Pedagogy of the Heart, p. 40). Fatalism and cynicism had no place in Freire’s life because he was too busy trying to be part of the solution to injustice rather than a cynical bystander.
Freire believed that the messenger of hope had a two fold purpose: denunciation and annunciation. The prophet denounces the systems, policies and persons that oppress and marginalize the poor and outcast, while announcing the possibility of a world where justice, freedom and opportunity are equally available to all. Like other messengers of hope such as ML King, Mahatma Gandhi and Cesar Chavez, Freire's message was a threat to the folks in power because he not only challenged their place of privilege, but also the policies and actions that gave them that privilege. You see, cynicism always serves the purposes of those in power because it discourages people from seeking meaningful change.
Time will tell if Barack Obama is simply mouthing high sounding words or is a true messenger of hope. In no way do I place him in the same company as people like Freire, King, Gandhi or Chavez. At the same time I can not side with those who would regard hope as unrealistic. Perhaps I am a dreamer, but dreamers are ones who change the world from what it is to the world as it could and should be. Hope is not the opposite of “realism,” but rather the antidote to a fatalism that saps people of their drive and capacity to work for meaningful change.
Over the last couple of years I have been studying the life and work of Paulo Freire, a Brazilian educator who developed a method of literacy training that enabled thousands of illiterate campesinos to read in a matter of months. His methods were so successful that the Brazilian government imprisoned him for sedition, and eventually exiled him. The ruling elite didn’t trust someone who would teach folks how to read, because then those same folks were able figure out that their so-called leaders were working in ways that limited their opportunities and caused their suffering. Freire spent his 20 year exile traveling the globe sharing his message and educational philosophy. Late in life when the Brazilian government changed hands, he was allowed back into the country where he held a government post as Education Minister until his death in 1997.
Throughout much of his life Freire sought to raise the prospects of the poorest of the world’s poor by giving them one of the most valuable tools for advancing one’s station in life: the ability to read. His work came to light in the English speaking world with the English translation of his seminal work, Pedagogy of the Oppressed in 1970.Freire understood that what he was doing had political implications, and thus he taught his students to not only read the word, but also “read the world” and the forces that oppressed them. Through this process of consciouness raising, Freire's method empowered poor folks to challenge their oppressors and change their conditions.
Despite his personal struggles and the powerful opposition he faced, Paulo Freire was always known as a joyful man full of hope. Thus, it is fitting that one of his last writings was entitled Pedagogy of Hope, which was a retrospective on the working out of ideas expressed decades before in Pedagogy of Oppressed.
Denis Collins, one of Freire’s biographers, said of him,
“How is one to account for the optimism of Paulo Freire?… Freire’s life and work as an educator is optimistic in spite of poverty, imprisonment and exile…. On a planet where more than half the people go hungry every day because nations are incapable of feeding all their citizens, where we cannot agree that every being has a right to eat, Paulo Freire toils to help men and women overcome their sense of powerlessness to act on their own behalf” (Denis Collins, Paulo Freire: His Life, Works, and Thought).
Freire himself put it this way late in his life when he wrote: “Above all my difference lies in my critical, in no-way-naïve optimism and the hope that encourages me and that does not exist for the fatalistic” (Pedagogy of the Heart, p. 40). Fatalism and cynicism had no place in Freire’s life because he was too busy trying to be part of the solution to injustice rather than a cynical bystander.
Freire believed that the messenger of hope had a two fold purpose: denunciation and annunciation. The prophet denounces the systems, policies and persons that oppress and marginalize the poor and outcast, while announcing the possibility of a world where justice, freedom and opportunity are equally available to all. Like other messengers of hope such as ML King, Mahatma Gandhi and Cesar Chavez, Freire's message was a threat to the folks in power because he not only challenged their place of privilege, but also the policies and actions that gave them that privilege. You see, cynicism always serves the purposes of those in power because it discourages people from seeking meaningful change.
Time will tell if Barack Obama is simply mouthing high sounding words or is a true messenger of hope. In no way do I place him in the same company as people like Freire, King, Gandhi or Chavez. At the same time I can not side with those who would regard hope as unrealistic. Perhaps I am a dreamer, but dreamers are ones who change the world from what it is to the world as it could and should be. Hope is not the opposite of “realism,” but rather the antidote to a fatalism that saps people of their drive and capacity to work for meaningful change.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Obama and My Hope for True Democracy
I am voting for Barack Obama to be the Democratic presidential nominee and rooting for him to be the next president, and here is why: in my mind he brings me hope that as a nation we can experience true democracy. As much as President Bush and leaders in both major political parties talk about how they love democracy, it’s not true. What they like is game they call democracy where they get to write the rules and determine who gets to play, and what the outcome will be. True democracy places its trust in the power and wisdom of the people to decide, not leaders of the party. That is why the leaders of both parties prefer primaries to caucuses. In primaries you can limit the game to leading players, but in caucuses you get regular folks coming together to debate the issues and the pros/cons of the candidates. In caucuses regular folks actually think they know something about policy and leadership and they make up their own mind. They distrust the veteran politicians and listen to what makes sense to them, and the party leaders can’t stand it. What has happened this primary season is that somehow the political hacks let things get out of hand and they ended up with a McCain, a Huckabee and an Obama sparking people’s interest in actually speaking their minds, and the Clintons, Romneys and Fred Thompsons of the world are being left on the sidelines.
The fact is even the founding fathers didn’t believe in true democracy. That’s why when they set up the Constitution they limited voting power to white males of Anglo descent who owned land. Women, blacks, Native Americans, Germans Irish and poor folks were excluded from voting. That way they could control the game and predetermine who got what. Despite 200+ years of amendments that have allowed blacks, non-Anglos, women, and poor folks to vote, the game is still rigged. The other day on NPR I heard a report of all the “special interests,” such as lawyers, educators, unions, entertainers and corporate PACs that are pouring money into the campaigns of Clinton, Obama and McCain in hopes of “getting something in return.” Why should they have more access to power than the poor schmucks who are just trying to make a living and can’t give a contribution, or volunteer for a candidate? For all his talk about “exporting democracy,” George Bush doesn’t believe in democracy either. In the Gaza strip Hamas won free and fair elections, and immediately he discredited them and cut them off from any support. Furthermore, he can’t stand Hugo Chavez, the duly elected president of Venezuela, who happens to be socialist.
So why does Barack Obama give me hope? Obama came to politics as a community organizer. In his autobiography, Dreams of My Father, Obama describes his education into the needs of the working class, mostly African-American folks he got to know on the South Side of Chicago where he worked as a community organizer. Community organizers by training and orientation believe in grassroots politics. Their job is to help people identify the important issues facing their community, bring folks together around those issues, and devise ways to bring pressure on the power brokers to make changes. Community organizers trust that people can make wise and effective decisions when given the power and opportunity to do so. If you notice, in his speeches Obama uses the language of “we” and “us” a lot, and speaks of his campaign as a movement. That’s organizer language, and while it may be just a set of good political slogans, I’m hoping that it is more than rhetoric.
Clinton and McCain came through the ranks of the established political system. They talk about heir experience and how they will get things done on the first day in the job. It’s all about what they will do because “Hey, I’ve got the experience and I know how the system works.” That may be true, but the system is what is wrong. The system favors the few who either have survived the cutthroat political game or who have the money to influence the players. The game is that we call it “democracy” (the rule of the many) when it is in fact oligarchy (the reign of the few).
So I am putting my hopes on Obama. I may be wrong. The moneychangers and the power brokers may get to him. He may be pulling the wool over our eyes. But his words and actions, plus his past experience, make me want to believe that he actually wants grassroots democracy to flourish, even if it challenges his views, even if it is messy at times , and even if the big boys and girls get pushed a bit to the side.
The fact is even the founding fathers didn’t believe in true democracy. That’s why when they set up the Constitution they limited voting power to white males of Anglo descent who owned land. Women, blacks, Native Americans, Germans Irish and poor folks were excluded from voting. That way they could control the game and predetermine who got what. Despite 200+ years of amendments that have allowed blacks, non-Anglos, women, and poor folks to vote, the game is still rigged. The other day on NPR I heard a report of all the “special interests,” such as lawyers, educators, unions, entertainers and corporate PACs that are pouring money into the campaigns of Clinton, Obama and McCain in hopes of “getting something in return.” Why should they have more access to power than the poor schmucks who are just trying to make a living and can’t give a contribution, or volunteer for a candidate? For all his talk about “exporting democracy,” George Bush doesn’t believe in democracy either. In the Gaza strip Hamas won free and fair elections, and immediately he discredited them and cut them off from any support. Furthermore, he can’t stand Hugo Chavez, the duly elected president of Venezuela, who happens to be socialist.
So why does Barack Obama give me hope? Obama came to politics as a community organizer. In his autobiography, Dreams of My Father, Obama describes his education into the needs of the working class, mostly African-American folks he got to know on the South Side of Chicago where he worked as a community organizer. Community organizers by training and orientation believe in grassroots politics. Their job is to help people identify the important issues facing their community, bring folks together around those issues, and devise ways to bring pressure on the power brokers to make changes. Community organizers trust that people can make wise and effective decisions when given the power and opportunity to do so. If you notice, in his speeches Obama uses the language of “we” and “us” a lot, and speaks of his campaign as a movement. That’s organizer language, and while it may be just a set of good political slogans, I’m hoping that it is more than rhetoric.
Clinton and McCain came through the ranks of the established political system. They talk about heir experience and how they will get things done on the first day in the job. It’s all about what they will do because “Hey, I’ve got the experience and I know how the system works.” That may be true, but the system is what is wrong. The system favors the few who either have survived the cutthroat political game or who have the money to influence the players. The game is that we call it “democracy” (the rule of the many) when it is in fact oligarchy (the reign of the few).
So I am putting my hopes on Obama. I may be wrong. The moneychangers and the power brokers may get to him. He may be pulling the wool over our eyes. But his words and actions, plus his past experience, make me want to believe that he actually wants grassroots democracy to flourish, even if it challenges his views, even if it is messy at times , and even if the big boys and girls get pushed a bit to the side.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Race and Gender as Positive Presidential Factors
In recent weeks the Democratic primary race has danced around the issues of race and gender in the close race between Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton. The Nevada caucuses revealed that people of color overwhelmingly voting for Obama and that women going for Hillary. Both candidates have been hesitant to talk about the race or gender issue explicitly since Clinton’s gaffe about Martin Luther King and LBJ, but it is clear that race and gender are real, though largely unacknowledged factors in this race.
Personally, I wish Obama and Clinton would talk about more about race and gender because I think both can be a real positive factor if either is elected president. Obviously if either of them are elected, they will be a “first.” However, beyond that each of them would bring a perspective to the White House that has been sorely missing in our 200+ years of white, male (usually wealthy) presidential leadership.
As the son of a Kenyan father and a white Midwestern mother, Obama brings a perspective as one who has been excluded and oppressed because of his skin color. Moreover, his social and political views were largely shaped through his experiences as a community organizer in the poor black community of Southside Chicago. He has seen poverty and suffering firsthand, and at the same time knows the capacity of normal people to organize and advocate for their rights. Obama’s critique of Clinton’s comment regarding Martin Luther King did not focus on race but rather on the fact that she did not appear to value the power of normal people to organize and make an impact on public policy. Obama has seen that power at work, and knows it can and has made a difference. Furthermore, having spent some of his childhood in Indonesia and having reconnected with his family in Kenya, Obama has a global perspective running through his blood that no U.S. president has ever had. One can only imagine that when Obama goes to speak with leaders from Africa or the Middle East, they will see something of themselves in him that they do not see in George W. Bush or any of his predecessors. These things alone will not assure Obama more success than other presidents, but he brings a worldview as a member of an oppressed group that heightens his sensitivity and could raise his credibility with others. (For insight into Obama’s background read his first book, Dreams of My Father.)
For her part Clinton brings a perspective as a woman that likewise is sorely needed. The short-lived (Fall 2006) TV show “Commander in Chief,” starring Geena Davis as the president, highlighted the fact that women in leadership tend to be more collaborative and inclusive. Studies of women in positions of executive leadership support this view. At the time the show was running Clinton was just exploring the possibility of a presidential run but it was clear to me, as I am sure it was to others, that the show was trying to make the case that a woman could be as effective a president as a man. Clinton doesn’t have the cowboy mentality that often afflicts male presidents in a time of crisis. Bush’s now largely discredited rationale for invading Iraq is only one of many examples of that mentality. Furthermore, as a wife and a mother, Clinton has an inherent concern for the well-being of families, and children and women that men often miss. Her book, It Takes a Village, speaks to her awareness of these issues. And while she is often castigated by the Right for her pro-choice position, she has written and spoken powerfully about the need to reduce the need for abortion by reducing unplanned and unwanted pregnancies especially among teenage girls. As a woman Clinton is constitutionally more connected to victims of war, poverty, and domestic abuse than former presidents. When bills are being considered or foreign policy decisions are being made, it would be a refreshing change to have someone who thinks more of the victims than victory. I believe Clinton brings that perspective.
Now obviously, Obama’s ethnic/racial heritage and Clinton’s gender do not assure that the things I have mentioned are true, or would be operative if either of them became president; but it does increase the likelihood. We all know that in moments of stress and crisis, our true values, beliefs and attitudes tend to emerge. The presidency is a high stress job with many crises. In those times, my guess is that with either Obama or Clinton in the White House, different responses based on their different backgrounds would emerge and would take us in new and positive directions.
Before this election is over in November 2008, race and/or gender will need to be discussed. In this country, we have difficulty discussing these issues without devolving into a shouting match. My hope is that instead of reducing the discussion to the “race card” or the “gender card,” we can begin to appreciate that by virtue of their race or gender that Obama or Clinton might bring to the White House a constructive perspective that has never been there before.
Personally, I wish Obama and Clinton would talk about more about race and gender because I think both can be a real positive factor if either is elected president. Obviously if either of them are elected, they will be a “first.” However, beyond that each of them would bring a perspective to the White House that has been sorely missing in our 200+ years of white, male (usually wealthy) presidential leadership.
As the son of a Kenyan father and a white Midwestern mother, Obama brings a perspective as one who has been excluded and oppressed because of his skin color. Moreover, his social and political views were largely shaped through his experiences as a community organizer in the poor black community of Southside Chicago. He has seen poverty and suffering firsthand, and at the same time knows the capacity of normal people to organize and advocate for their rights. Obama’s critique of Clinton’s comment regarding Martin Luther King did not focus on race but rather on the fact that she did not appear to value the power of normal people to organize and make an impact on public policy. Obama has seen that power at work, and knows it can and has made a difference. Furthermore, having spent some of his childhood in Indonesia and having reconnected with his family in Kenya, Obama has a global perspective running through his blood that no U.S. president has ever had. One can only imagine that when Obama goes to speak with leaders from Africa or the Middle East, they will see something of themselves in him that they do not see in George W. Bush or any of his predecessors. These things alone will not assure Obama more success than other presidents, but he brings a worldview as a member of an oppressed group that heightens his sensitivity and could raise his credibility with others. (For insight into Obama’s background read his first book, Dreams of My Father.)
For her part Clinton brings a perspective as a woman that likewise is sorely needed. The short-lived (Fall 2006) TV show “Commander in Chief,” starring Geena Davis as the president, highlighted the fact that women in leadership tend to be more collaborative and inclusive. Studies of women in positions of executive leadership support this view. At the time the show was running Clinton was just exploring the possibility of a presidential run but it was clear to me, as I am sure it was to others, that the show was trying to make the case that a woman could be as effective a president as a man. Clinton doesn’t have the cowboy mentality that often afflicts male presidents in a time of crisis. Bush’s now largely discredited rationale for invading Iraq is only one of many examples of that mentality. Furthermore, as a wife and a mother, Clinton has an inherent concern for the well-being of families, and children and women that men often miss. Her book, It Takes a Village, speaks to her awareness of these issues. And while she is often castigated by the Right for her pro-choice position, she has written and spoken powerfully about the need to reduce the need for abortion by reducing unplanned and unwanted pregnancies especially among teenage girls. As a woman Clinton is constitutionally more connected to victims of war, poverty, and domestic abuse than former presidents. When bills are being considered or foreign policy decisions are being made, it would be a refreshing change to have someone who thinks more of the victims than victory. I believe Clinton brings that perspective.
Now obviously, Obama’s ethnic/racial heritage and Clinton’s gender do not assure that the things I have mentioned are true, or would be operative if either of them became president; but it does increase the likelihood. We all know that in moments of stress and crisis, our true values, beliefs and attitudes tend to emerge. The presidency is a high stress job with many crises. In those times, my guess is that with either Obama or Clinton in the White House, different responses based on their different backgrounds would emerge and would take us in new and positive directions.
Before this election is over in November 2008, race and/or gender will need to be discussed. In this country, we have difficulty discussing these issues without devolving into a shouting match. My hope is that instead of reducing the discussion to the “race card” or the “gender card,” we can begin to appreciate that by virtue of their race or gender that Obama or Clinton might bring to the White House a constructive perspective that has never been there before.
Sunday, January 06, 2008
When Did Amnesty Become A Dirty Word
The word "amnesty" appears to have become as bad a word in the Republican lexicon as the word "liberal." Judging from the New Hampshire debate on January 5, none of the Republicans wanted to have the word "amnesty" stuck to them. When we get to the election, you can bet whoever is the Republican candidate will try to defame the Democratic challenger by calling him/her a "liberal" who believes in "amnesty" for illegal immigrants.
Republicans, particularly Mitt Romney, have made illegal immigration a primary issue in the campaign, and yet their solutions to the problem are completely out of touch with reality. I went to all the websites for the major Republican and Democratic candidates to see their proposed solutions for addressing the issue of illegal immigration. What I found was quite revealing and troubling.
The Republican candidates have generally framed the issue in terms of law and order, and anti-terrorism. For instance, Romney’s website says that "[w]e must secure the border, implement an enforceable employer verification system, punish sanctuary cities and reject amnesty if we are to restore Americans’ faith in the rule of law." [All italics are mine.] Huckabee’s statement adds, "immigration is not only an economic issue, but also a national security issue." Giuliani expresses the same sentiment when he says we need to "protect our citizens by controlling America’s borders." Fred Thompson uses much the same language. The only Republican dissenter is John McCain (I will come back to him).
By listening to the Republicans one would think that these 12 million undocumented immigrants are running roughshod over our communities, vandalizing city streets and terrorizing mothers and their children. While technically they are breaking the law, the immigrants are the ones who live in fear and are exploited because of it. The overwhelming majority are not terrorists or criminals, but humble law-abiding citizens seeking to eke out a living for themselves and their families back home. Because of their illegal status, they are easy targets for coercion and manipulation by unscrupulous employers. But the Republicans would have us believe otherwise.
The Democratic candidates frame the issue quite differently. All four of the major candidates (Obama, Clinton, Edwards and Richardson) start by acknowledging the current immigration system is broken and dysfunctional. Second, they affirm the historic American tradition of supporting the family, and seek to preserve immigrant family integrity. Third, they talk about creating a pathway to citizenship for million illegal immigrants. Finally, they talk about working with foreign governments, particularly in Latin America, to help strengthen their economies. While they acknowledge that a dimension of the issue is border security, this is not their major focus. I think Bill Richardson sums up the Democratic position when he says:
"Building a fence will not increase security, just as attempting to deport 12 million illegal immigrants is not feasible or reasonable. I believe a realistic immigration reform plan must address the problem from all sides -- securing the border, penalizing employers for knowingly hiring illegal workers, offering a tough but reasonable path to legalization, engaging Mexico in the reform process, and improving our current immigration quota system."
On this issue John McCain is more of a Democrat than a Republican. While acknowledging the border security issue, McCain goes on to give a realistic assessment. He says we must recognize...
- the importance of building strong allies in Mexico and Latin America
- the importance of pro-growth policies
- the importance of a flexible labor market
- the importance of assimilation of our immigrant population.
Then like the Democrats he advocates a pathway to citizenship, and for that he is branded with the scarlet letter “A” for Amnesty.
The Republican (minus McCain) position on immigration reminds me of the Know-Nothing Party of the 1850’s who opposed all Irish and Italian immigrants, and whose solution to the slavery issue was to ship all blacks back to Africa. Their philosophy was that the U.S. should remain an Anglo-Saxon country (while conveniently ignoring the fact that the European invaders had stolen the land from its Native American inhabitants). The Know-Nothing party was a last gasp before a dramatic change occurred in the U.S. culture, starting with the emancipation and enfranchisement of the slaves and then continuing with the mass immigration of the late 1800’s and early 1900’s. Today, we are on the verge of as significant a change in U.S. culture. The notion of America as the "melting pot" where all peoples leave their former culture and to take on an "American" identity is going by the board. We are now in a global society where the fastest selling cars in the U.S. are made by Toyota and where most of what we buy and use is not produced here. Our telephone and consumer service centers are located in India, and telemarketers call us from anywhere in the world. We are at a point where, as sociologist Ronald Takaki says, we must look at our society through a "different mirror," a multicultural, pluralistic mirror.
The illegal immigration issue is a sign and a symptom of the change that has taken place in our society and our world. Except for McCain, the Republicans don’t seem to have a clue that the ground is shifting under their feet. The Republican emperor has no clothes.
As I have written before, in my view the immigration issue is a direct result of the NAFTA agreements of the early 1990’s. As long as capital can flow freely across borders, it only makes sense that labor be given the same privilege. Illegal or not, the 12 million undocumented workers are part of a major shift taking place in our world and in American society. So if that means I must wear the scarlet letter “A,” that’s okay; most people already think I’m a liberal as it is.
Republicans, particularly Mitt Romney, have made illegal immigration a primary issue in the campaign, and yet their solutions to the problem are completely out of touch with reality. I went to all the websites for the major Republican and Democratic candidates to see their proposed solutions for addressing the issue of illegal immigration. What I found was quite revealing and troubling.
The Republican candidates have generally framed the issue in terms of law and order, and anti-terrorism. For instance, Romney’s website says that "[w]e must secure the border, implement an enforceable employer verification system, punish sanctuary cities and reject amnesty if we are to restore Americans’ faith in the rule of law." [All italics are mine.] Huckabee’s statement adds, "immigration is not only an economic issue, but also a national security issue." Giuliani expresses the same sentiment when he says we need to "protect our citizens by controlling America’s borders." Fred Thompson uses much the same language. The only Republican dissenter is John McCain (I will come back to him).
By listening to the Republicans one would think that these 12 million undocumented immigrants are running roughshod over our communities, vandalizing city streets and terrorizing mothers and their children. While technically they are breaking the law, the immigrants are the ones who live in fear and are exploited because of it. The overwhelming majority are not terrorists or criminals, but humble law-abiding citizens seeking to eke out a living for themselves and their families back home. Because of their illegal status, they are easy targets for coercion and manipulation by unscrupulous employers. But the Republicans would have us believe otherwise.
The Democratic candidates frame the issue quite differently. All four of the major candidates (Obama, Clinton, Edwards and Richardson) start by acknowledging the current immigration system is broken and dysfunctional. Second, they affirm the historic American tradition of supporting the family, and seek to preserve immigrant family integrity. Third, they talk about creating a pathway to citizenship for million illegal immigrants. Finally, they talk about working with foreign governments, particularly in Latin America, to help strengthen their economies. While they acknowledge that a dimension of the issue is border security, this is not their major focus. I think Bill Richardson sums up the Democratic position when he says:
"Building a fence will not increase security, just as attempting to deport 12 million illegal immigrants is not feasible or reasonable. I believe a realistic immigration reform plan must address the problem from all sides -- securing the border, penalizing employers for knowingly hiring illegal workers, offering a tough but reasonable path to legalization, engaging Mexico in the reform process, and improving our current immigration quota system."
On this issue John McCain is more of a Democrat than a Republican. While acknowledging the border security issue, McCain goes on to give a realistic assessment. He says we must recognize...
- the importance of building strong allies in Mexico and Latin America
- the importance of pro-growth policies
- the importance of a flexible labor market
- the importance of assimilation of our immigrant population.
Then like the Democrats he advocates a pathway to citizenship, and for that he is branded with the scarlet letter “A” for Amnesty.
The Republican (minus McCain) position on immigration reminds me of the Know-Nothing Party of the 1850’s who opposed all Irish and Italian immigrants, and whose solution to the slavery issue was to ship all blacks back to Africa. Their philosophy was that the U.S. should remain an Anglo-Saxon country (while conveniently ignoring the fact that the European invaders had stolen the land from its Native American inhabitants). The Know-Nothing party was a last gasp before a dramatic change occurred in the U.S. culture, starting with the emancipation and enfranchisement of the slaves and then continuing with the mass immigration of the late 1800’s and early 1900’s. Today, we are on the verge of as significant a change in U.S. culture. The notion of America as the "melting pot" where all peoples leave their former culture and to take on an "American" identity is going by the board. We are now in a global society where the fastest selling cars in the U.S. are made by Toyota and where most of what we buy and use is not produced here. Our telephone and consumer service centers are located in India, and telemarketers call us from anywhere in the world. We are at a point where, as sociologist Ronald Takaki says, we must look at our society through a "different mirror," a multicultural, pluralistic mirror.
The illegal immigration issue is a sign and a symptom of the change that has taken place in our society and our world. Except for McCain, the Republicans don’t seem to have a clue that the ground is shifting under their feet. The Republican emperor has no clothes.
As I have written before, in my view the immigration issue is a direct result of the NAFTA agreements of the early 1990’s. As long as capital can flow freely across borders, it only makes sense that labor be given the same privilege. Illegal or not, the 12 million undocumented workers are part of a major shift taking place in our world and in American society. So if that means I must wear the scarlet letter “A,” that’s okay; most people already think I’m a liberal as it is.
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