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.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
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.
Saturday, November 03, 2007
The Myth of Redemptive Violence
As we approach Veterans Day (Nov. 11), I am moved to reflect on another year in which our nation has been involved in the Iraq war with no resolution in sight, and now is threatening to attack Iran to involve us into yet another conflict. Meanwhile wars of various intensities go on between forces in Sudan, Palestine/Israel, Turkey/Kurdistan, Pakistan, and many other places. Theologian and political scientist Reinhold Niebuhr (Children of Light, Children of Darkness; Moral Man and Immoral Society;, The Nature and Destiny of Man) said that such conflicts are inevitable and necessary because nations, like individuals, are inherently self-centered, and therefore can only be restrained from forcing the will and way on other nations by the threat and use of violence. Niebuhr, who was a pacifist early in his career as a pastor and activist with autoworkers in Detroit, rejected pacifism as impractical and unrealistic in a spiritually fallen world. However, the pacifism of Niebuhr’s day had not been informed by Gandhi’s concept of satygraha (truth-force), nor had it seen the incredible power of nonviolence used in the U.S. Civil Rights movement or the anti-apartheid movement in South Africa. The pacifism of Niebuhr’s day was passive, calling for nonresistance and nonintervention in issues of social injustice. It did not engage injustice or violence; it simply avoided it.
In contrast theologian Walter Wink has called this perspective on the inevitability of violence, the “myth of redemptive violence.” In short the myth of redemptive violence states “that violence saves, that war brings peace, that might makes right. It is one of the oldest continuously repeated stories in the world” (The Powers That Be, p. 42). Wink goes on to point out that this myth is repeated and reinforced in Greek myth, in Saturday morning cartoon shows, in shows like “24” and movies like “Diehard” and in any number of religious texts including the Bible. It is also the ideology of most governments, including our own. Wink concludes: “In short the Myth of Redemptive Violence is the story of the victory of order over chaos by means of violence. It is the ideology of conquest, the original religion of the status quo. The gods favor those who conquer. Conversely, whoever conquers must have the favor of the gods” (p. 48).
The problem is that violence and war give birth to resentment, oppression and eventually more violence and war. The wars mentioned above all were birthed out of previous wars. World War I planted the seeds of World War II, which gave birth to the Cold War, which birthed numerous small “hot wars,” including Korea and Vietnam, which led to our involvement in suppressing countries in the Middle East, which led to 9/11, which led to Iraq and potentially Iran. Now while this analysis is admittedly simplistic, it does illustrate my point: war does not and has not brought peace or order, but rather quite the opposite. Despite the overarching acceptance of the myth of redemptive violence, there have been a few exceptions to this pattern, such as Gandhi’s movement to throw off British rule in the 1940’s, the U.S. Civil Rights movement, and the anti-apartheid movement in South Africa, all of which used assertive non-violence to fight oppression and injustice rather than war. South Africa took the process to the logical, but rarely tried, next step with the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in which whites, Boers, and Africans, oppressors and oppressed, went before the nation to tell their stories, confess their crimes and seek national reconciliation. Instead of hiding one’s crimes and injustice behind a patriotic violence as a “just cause,” the South Africans confessed their crimes and have achieved national reconciliation and healing to an unprecedented degree.
No doubt as we approach Veterans Day we will hear a great deal about how soldiers past and present have “fought for our freedom” as Americans. I would only ask how much freer we feel for having engaged in all our many wars. The notion that fighting a war in Iraq somehow preserves my freedom as an American shows the utter absurdity of the myth of redemptive violence. In this time when war is enshrined, I hope that in our more sober moments we see the myth of redemptive violence for what it is, and seek a better way.
In contrast theologian Walter Wink has called this perspective on the inevitability of violence, the “myth of redemptive violence.” In short the myth of redemptive violence states “that violence saves, that war brings peace, that might makes right. It is one of the oldest continuously repeated stories in the world” (The Powers That Be, p. 42). Wink goes on to point out that this myth is repeated and reinforced in Greek myth, in Saturday morning cartoon shows, in shows like “24” and movies like “Diehard” and in any number of religious texts including the Bible. It is also the ideology of most governments, including our own. Wink concludes: “In short the Myth of Redemptive Violence is the story of the victory of order over chaos by means of violence. It is the ideology of conquest, the original religion of the status quo. The gods favor those who conquer. Conversely, whoever conquers must have the favor of the gods” (p. 48).
The problem is that violence and war give birth to resentment, oppression and eventually more violence and war. The wars mentioned above all were birthed out of previous wars. World War I planted the seeds of World War II, which gave birth to the Cold War, which birthed numerous small “hot wars,” including Korea and Vietnam, which led to our involvement in suppressing countries in the Middle East, which led to 9/11, which led to Iraq and potentially Iran. Now while this analysis is admittedly simplistic, it does illustrate my point: war does not and has not brought peace or order, but rather quite the opposite. Despite the overarching acceptance of the myth of redemptive violence, there have been a few exceptions to this pattern, such as Gandhi’s movement to throw off British rule in the 1940’s, the U.S. Civil Rights movement, and the anti-apartheid movement in South Africa, all of which used assertive non-violence to fight oppression and injustice rather than war. South Africa took the process to the logical, but rarely tried, next step with the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in which whites, Boers, and Africans, oppressors and oppressed, went before the nation to tell their stories, confess their crimes and seek national reconciliation. Instead of hiding one’s crimes and injustice behind a patriotic violence as a “just cause,” the South Africans confessed their crimes and have achieved national reconciliation and healing to an unprecedented degree.
No doubt as we approach Veterans Day we will hear a great deal about how soldiers past and present have “fought for our freedom” as Americans. I would only ask how much freer we feel for having engaged in all our many wars. The notion that fighting a war in Iraq somehow preserves my freedom as an American shows the utter absurdity of the myth of redemptive violence. In this time when war is enshrined, I hope that in our more sober moments we see the myth of redemptive violence for what it is, and seek a better way.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Gun Violence Prevention
This past week the news has been filled with the shootings at SuccessTech Academy in Cleveland, Ohio. Asa Coon, a 14 year old student entered the school with two revolvers and shot two students and two teachers before shooting himself. Closer to home in Whitemarsh Township, Pennsylvania, Dillon Casey, another 14 year old boy was intercepted with an entire arsenal of guns before he entered his high school to pull off a similar kind of shooting. On Friday (10/12) in Royersford, Pennsylvania the high school football game was cancelled after a teenager pulled a gun on another boy over a girlfriend. This week these incidents covered the front pages the Philadelphia area newspapers but on the back pages we continue to read of youth violence in the city continuing at a record pace.
Understandably, a great deal of talk has been generated about school security, the impact of bullying on the perpetrators, and the "warning signs” to look for in kids like these. However, no one seems to be asking a more basic question: where the hell did these kids get the guns? Conflicts between boys at school, bullies, and troubled teens are not new phenomena. Those issues were around when I was in high school and when my dad was in high school. This is not to say the behavior and emotional turmoil of such kids are not of concern, but we used to deal with these issues with words and fists. Rarely, did people end up getting killed, because no one had such easy access to guns.
On October 6, I attended a conference sponsored by the Mennonite Central Committee (MCC) on gun violence prevention. At that event I heard a speaker named Bryan Miller, who is the Executive Director of Cease Fire New Jersey (CFNJ). Several years ago Bryan left a job in international business to found CFNJ after his brother was gunned down by a teenager using an illegal handgun. His mission is simple: get illegal handguns off the street. His approach has been successful in New Jersey and now he has turned his sights on Pennsylvania, because the lax handgun laws in PA are fueling the trafficking of handguns up and down the Northeast.
Almost all youth violence occurs with the use of illegally purchased handguns. According the government statistics cited by Miller, only 25% of the criminal gun use in New Jersey is committed with guns bought in New Jersey. The rest of the guns come from Pennsylvania. The same is true for New York and Maryland. By contrast 80% of the criminal gun use in Pennsylvania comes from guns bought in Pennsylvania. Why is this? Because anyone over the age of 18, without a criminal record or a record of mental illness can buy as many handguns as they want with no waiting period. This lax policy fuels an illegal market for handguns.
According to Bryan Miller, here is how it works. Illegal gun marketers, who usually have criminal records, hire “straw buyers” to purchase guns on their behalf. A minimal background check is done with state and national databases for any record of criminal activity, and the buyer can walk out with the guns. Then, the straw buyer hands the guns to the illegal gun marketer for a small commission. The guns are then sold illegally in the underground market and there is no documentation of the real owner of the gun. When a crime is committed and the gun is traced back to straw buyers, they say the gun was lost or stolen, and nothing can be done. Those guns are out on the illegal market free and clear.
For years the cities of Philadelphia and Pittsburgh have tried to change the state laws on gun sales to no avail. They have even tried to pass laws simply within their own jurisdictions, and have been blocked by the state legislature. The National Rifle Association (NRA) which lavishly funds the campaign chests of most state and federal legislators (regardless of political party) opposes any restrictions of gun sales, and has blocked these efforts at every turn. While stating that they are representing the legal gun owners, the NRA is really serving its larger client, the gun industry. According to Bryan Miller, the gun industry is a mature industry, meaning they have sold as many legal guns as they are going to sell. So to expand their business they need the illegal market. As long as politicians feel beholden to the NRA and its wealthy coffers, laws designed to restrict the sale of handguns (as opposed to hunting rifles or sport guns) will not be changed. Bryan Miller’s strategy is to put pressure on the politicians to listen to the people instead of the NRA.
Miller has proposed two simple bills in the Pennsylvania House of Representatives. HR 29 would require buyers to report to the police when their guns are lost or stolen. Failure to report would carry a fine and there would be a greater penalty if the gun was used in a crime. The goal of this bill is to discourage the practice of straw buying. The second Bill HB22 would limit buyers to purchase only one handgun a month. The purpose of this bill would be to make the task of purchasing illegal handguns much more difficult for buyers and marketers.
CFNJ was able to push through similar bills in New Jersey with dramatic results. Two Philadelphia Inquirer reporters wrote a story comparing handgun sales in PA and NJ. Each went into to buy a gun. In PA the reporter walked in and asked to buy a handgun and 45 minutes later he walked out of the store, gun in hand. In NJ the reporter needed to wait a month just to get permission to purchase the gun.
Bryan Miller helped start Cease Fire PA (CFPA). I would urge folks to check out their information and if you are in Pennsylvania write your representatives about these two bills. Miller believes from research he has done that there is overwhelming support for these bills once people understand (1) the true purpose of the bill is to restrict the sale of illegal handguns and (2) they don’t restrict the legal uses of guns for hunting, sport shooting, and collecting. If you don’t live in Pennsylvania, check out the laws in your own state. Chances are there is work to be done there as well.
Obviously, the job will not be complete until the gun companies are held accountable for their complicity in the illegal gun sales. Right now several cities (including Philadelphia and New York) have sought to sue the gun companies over their role in the illegal gun market, but thanks to the NRA-sponsored George W. Bush administration, most of those suits have been blocked by the Justice Department. However, just like the tobacco companies were finally brought to justice over their complicity in hiding the cancerous effects of smoking, so too the clock is ticking for the gun companies. They know it, and they will put up a smokescreen and a fight. So those who believe in peace must push back.
Understandably, a great deal of talk has been generated about school security, the impact of bullying on the perpetrators, and the "warning signs” to look for in kids like these. However, no one seems to be asking a more basic question: where the hell did these kids get the guns? Conflicts between boys at school, bullies, and troubled teens are not new phenomena. Those issues were around when I was in high school and when my dad was in high school. This is not to say the behavior and emotional turmoil of such kids are not of concern, but we used to deal with these issues with words and fists. Rarely, did people end up getting killed, because no one had such easy access to guns.
On October 6, I attended a conference sponsored by the Mennonite Central Committee (MCC) on gun violence prevention. At that event I heard a speaker named Bryan Miller, who is the Executive Director of Cease Fire New Jersey (CFNJ). Several years ago Bryan left a job in international business to found CFNJ after his brother was gunned down by a teenager using an illegal handgun. His mission is simple: get illegal handguns off the street. His approach has been successful in New Jersey and now he has turned his sights on Pennsylvania, because the lax handgun laws in PA are fueling the trafficking of handguns up and down the Northeast.
Almost all youth violence occurs with the use of illegally purchased handguns. According the government statistics cited by Miller, only 25% of the criminal gun use in New Jersey is committed with guns bought in New Jersey. The rest of the guns come from Pennsylvania. The same is true for New York and Maryland. By contrast 80% of the criminal gun use in Pennsylvania comes from guns bought in Pennsylvania. Why is this? Because anyone over the age of 18, without a criminal record or a record of mental illness can buy as many handguns as they want with no waiting period. This lax policy fuels an illegal market for handguns.
According to Bryan Miller, here is how it works. Illegal gun marketers, who usually have criminal records, hire “straw buyers” to purchase guns on their behalf. A minimal background check is done with state and national databases for any record of criminal activity, and the buyer can walk out with the guns. Then, the straw buyer hands the guns to the illegal gun marketer for a small commission. The guns are then sold illegally in the underground market and there is no documentation of the real owner of the gun. When a crime is committed and the gun is traced back to straw buyers, they say the gun was lost or stolen, and nothing can be done. Those guns are out on the illegal market free and clear.
For years the cities of Philadelphia and Pittsburgh have tried to change the state laws on gun sales to no avail. They have even tried to pass laws simply within their own jurisdictions, and have been blocked by the state legislature. The National Rifle Association (NRA) which lavishly funds the campaign chests of most state and federal legislators (regardless of political party) opposes any restrictions of gun sales, and has blocked these efforts at every turn. While stating that they are representing the legal gun owners, the NRA is really serving its larger client, the gun industry. According to Bryan Miller, the gun industry is a mature industry, meaning they have sold as many legal guns as they are going to sell. So to expand their business they need the illegal market. As long as politicians feel beholden to the NRA and its wealthy coffers, laws designed to restrict the sale of handguns (as opposed to hunting rifles or sport guns) will not be changed. Bryan Miller’s strategy is to put pressure on the politicians to listen to the people instead of the NRA.
Miller has proposed two simple bills in the Pennsylvania House of Representatives. HR 29 would require buyers to report to the police when their guns are lost or stolen. Failure to report would carry a fine and there would be a greater penalty if the gun was used in a crime. The goal of this bill is to discourage the practice of straw buying. The second Bill HB22 would limit buyers to purchase only one handgun a month. The purpose of this bill would be to make the task of purchasing illegal handguns much more difficult for buyers and marketers.
CFNJ was able to push through similar bills in New Jersey with dramatic results. Two Philadelphia Inquirer reporters wrote a story comparing handgun sales in PA and NJ. Each went into to buy a gun. In PA the reporter walked in and asked to buy a handgun and 45 minutes later he walked out of the store, gun in hand. In NJ the reporter needed to wait a month just to get permission to purchase the gun.
Bryan Miller helped start Cease Fire PA (CFPA). I would urge folks to check out their information and if you are in Pennsylvania write your representatives about these two bills. Miller believes from research he has done that there is overwhelming support for these bills once people understand (1) the true purpose of the bill is to restrict the sale of illegal handguns and (2) they don’t restrict the legal uses of guns for hunting, sport shooting, and collecting. If you don’t live in Pennsylvania, check out the laws in your own state. Chances are there is work to be done there as well.
Obviously, the job will not be complete until the gun companies are held accountable for their complicity in the illegal gun sales. Right now several cities (including Philadelphia and New York) have sought to sue the gun companies over their role in the illegal gun market, but thanks to the NRA-sponsored George W. Bush administration, most of those suits have been blocked by the Justice Department. However, just like the tobacco companies were finally brought to justice over their complicity in hiding the cancerous effects of smoking, so too the clock is ticking for the gun companies. They know it, and they will put up a smokescreen and a fight. So those who believe in peace must push back.
Sunday, September 09, 2007
A Faith Like Mother Theresa
In late August the Vatican released copies of letters that revealed that Mother Theresa, the diminutive nun who founded the Sisters of Charity, had spent much of her adult life feeling distant and alienated from God. These letters, written by Mother Theresa to priests and friends who served as her confidants and confessors, were never intended to be made public. However, as part of the Roman Catholic canonization process these documents are being reviewed and for unspecified reasons have now been made public. When the news outlets first announced the story, they presented it with a mixture of surprise and sadness. How could this woman who had served the poorest of the poor in Calcutta, had inspired thousands to pursue a life of service, and had challenged millions with her example and her message,… how could SHE feel distant from God? As David Van Biema stated in a Time magazine (9/3/07) article on the announcement, her “remarkable deeds seemed inextricably connected to her closeness to God,” yet she confessed at many times “the silence and emptiness is so great.” Mother Theresa, whom many had put on a spiritual pedestal, turned out to be a struggling and spiritual barren human being who for nearly 50 years went through life feeling the absence and distance of God, rather than God’s intimacy. How could such a person be considered for sainthood?
I must admit that even though I too was surprised, I found great comfort when I heard the reports. Like many evangelical Protestant Christians, I was taught to believe that God “had a wonderful plan for my life” and that I could have “a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.” I believed that if I read my Bible regularly, prayed daily, worshipped faithfully, and sought to live out the principles of my faith, I would have a clear sense of God’s presence in my life. As a Baptist pastor I regularly repeated such sentiments in my preaching and teaching. Certainly there might be some periods of spiritual dryness, but over time I would grow in my sense of intimacy with God. That was how Christian faith was supposed to work, or so I thought.
However, when I left the pastorate, stepped back and looked at my spiritual life, I began to question the veracity and validity of that perspective. I began to wonder if I had simply participated in a sophisticated self-delusion, and if in fact I could even call myself a Christian. I never lost my fascination and deep respect for Jesus of Nazareth, but I felt increasingly alienated from the tradition that sprang from him. Like Mother Theresa, when I meditated and prayed, the only thing I heard was my own hollow inner voice.
That emptiness has continued for 10 years with two exceptions. First, when I attend worship at the West Philadelphia Mennonite Fellowship where I am a member, I regularly come away thinking that maybe this God and Jesus stuff could be true. This reminder is not prompted by anything in the worship per se (i.e. the music, the sermon, the prayers, communion, etc), but rather simply in the gathering of like-minded people on a similar hungry quest. At WPMF we talk openly about our questions and doubts while recommitting ourselves to continue to live according the dictates of our faith. Somehow being surrounded by folks on a similar journey keeps me from feeling so spiritually alienated.
The second place where the sense of isolation lifts is when I find myself in service with and to other people. In a way I can’t fully comprehend, I often sense something of Jesus in other people. As a college professor, I am fortunate to have regular opportunities to interact with adults and young people who are seeking to expand their minds and deepen their understanding of life. My work regularly brings me in contact with folks old and young, educated and functionally illiterate, who are seeking to serve others in the midst of their own struggle and brokenness. I also volunteer as a tutor helping a young woman learn how to read, and am in awe of her desire to master the written word. In these folks I see the life and truth and Jesus.
I believe it was Mother Theresa who said that we see meet Jesus in the lives of the poor. While she may not have heard the voice or sensed the presence of God in her inner life, by her own testimony she met Jesus daily in her service to the broken beggars of Calcutta. I have come to accept that I will never have a deep sense of inner intimacy with God in my life. Yet, Mother Theresa’s example encourages me to believe that as I seek to become more of a servant to others, I have the hope of touching the Transcendent through the lives of people I meet.
Atheists like Christopher Hitchens (author of God is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything, and The Missionary Position: Mother Theresa in Theory and Practice) will venture that this faith business is all a dangerous and socially destructive self-delusion. He draws this conclusion based on the the wealth of examples of religion gone bad from Pat Robertson to Jim Jones to Osama Bin Laden. However, for me faith is validated in the quiet lives of faithfulness of people who despite their faults live according to their deeply held values. No doubt we Christians get it wrong much, if not most, of the time. However we get it right when our actions demonstrate our faith, even when our faith, like Mother Theresa’s, limps along with doubts and questions. As we serve, Jesus can and does surprise us in the lives of the people we encounter.
I must admit that even though I too was surprised, I found great comfort when I heard the reports. Like many evangelical Protestant Christians, I was taught to believe that God “had a wonderful plan for my life” and that I could have “a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.” I believed that if I read my Bible regularly, prayed daily, worshipped faithfully, and sought to live out the principles of my faith, I would have a clear sense of God’s presence in my life. As a Baptist pastor I regularly repeated such sentiments in my preaching and teaching. Certainly there might be some periods of spiritual dryness, but over time I would grow in my sense of intimacy with God. That was how Christian faith was supposed to work, or so I thought.
However, when I left the pastorate, stepped back and looked at my spiritual life, I began to question the veracity and validity of that perspective. I began to wonder if I had simply participated in a sophisticated self-delusion, and if in fact I could even call myself a Christian. I never lost my fascination and deep respect for Jesus of Nazareth, but I felt increasingly alienated from the tradition that sprang from him. Like Mother Theresa, when I meditated and prayed, the only thing I heard was my own hollow inner voice.
That emptiness has continued for 10 years with two exceptions. First, when I attend worship at the West Philadelphia Mennonite Fellowship where I am a member, I regularly come away thinking that maybe this God and Jesus stuff could be true. This reminder is not prompted by anything in the worship per se (i.e. the music, the sermon, the prayers, communion, etc), but rather simply in the gathering of like-minded people on a similar hungry quest. At WPMF we talk openly about our questions and doubts while recommitting ourselves to continue to live according the dictates of our faith. Somehow being surrounded by folks on a similar journey keeps me from feeling so spiritually alienated.
The second place where the sense of isolation lifts is when I find myself in service with and to other people. In a way I can’t fully comprehend, I often sense something of Jesus in other people. As a college professor, I am fortunate to have regular opportunities to interact with adults and young people who are seeking to expand their minds and deepen their understanding of life. My work regularly brings me in contact with folks old and young, educated and functionally illiterate, who are seeking to serve others in the midst of their own struggle and brokenness. I also volunteer as a tutor helping a young woman learn how to read, and am in awe of her desire to master the written word. In these folks I see the life and truth and Jesus.
I believe it was Mother Theresa who said that we see meet Jesus in the lives of the poor. While she may not have heard the voice or sensed the presence of God in her inner life, by her own testimony she met Jesus daily in her service to the broken beggars of Calcutta. I have come to accept that I will never have a deep sense of inner intimacy with God in my life. Yet, Mother Theresa’s example encourages me to believe that as I seek to become more of a servant to others, I have the hope of touching the Transcendent through the lives of people I meet.
Atheists like Christopher Hitchens (author of God is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything, and The Missionary Position: Mother Theresa in Theory and Practice) will venture that this faith business is all a dangerous and socially destructive self-delusion. He draws this conclusion based on the the wealth of examples of religion gone bad from Pat Robertson to Jim Jones to Osama Bin Laden. However, for me faith is validated in the quiet lives of faithfulness of people who despite their faults live according to their deeply held values. No doubt we Christians get it wrong much, if not most, of the time. However we get it right when our actions demonstrate our faith, even when our faith, like Mother Theresa’s, limps along with doubts and questions. As we serve, Jesus can and does surprise us in the lives of the people we encounter.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Generational Musings
The most recent issue of Utne Reader (Sept/Oct 2007) featured a series of three articles discussing the role Baby Boomers can and should play in shaping and changing the world of the 21st century. Boomers are that generation of Americans born between 1946 and 1964 who currently makeup 20% of the population. Essentially, the articles centered on the question: Do Boomers have something to offer the younger generation in terms of wisdom and experience, or are they simply a generation of self-absorbed, would be do-gooders, who don’t want to grow up and will be a tremendous financial and social burden on the younger generations behind them? As a Boomer college professor and father of three young adults, and as one who spends a great deal of time around twenty-and-thirty-somethings, I had more than a passing interest in the discussion.
In the opening article, “The New Elders” Eric Utne and Richard Leider propose that because Boomers are working and living longer, they ought to focus on passing along the wisdom of their experiences, both positive and negative. They also propose that Boomers need to listen to Millenials and Baby Busters because they have mastered the world of information. The mixture of wisdom with knowledge could be a powerful combination. Of course, in order to mentor someone, you have to be asked.
That is the issue K.C. Compton takes up in the second article, “You Say You Want a Revolution.” Compton, a woman in her 50’s, recounts all the cultural and societal changes that came about because of the activism of the 1960’s and early 1970’s. She admits that Boomers can be “narcissistic and self-righteous,” but claims that her generation didn’t fail, they just got overwhelmed with all that needed to be changed. Compton goes too easy on Boomers. I remember thinking even in college in the early 70’s that most folks in my generation were shifting from a superficial commitment to change to an all-out embrace of materialism. We didn’t get overwhelmed; we switched sides.
The final article, “Tangled Up in Me” is written by Joseph Hart, a non-Boomer who basically thinks Boomers overestimate their worth and value. He writes, “the generation that exhorted us to never trust anyone older than 30 – then grew up and proved the point by ushering in the long nightmare of social conservatism and permanent war that is our current reality.” Hart’s critique is a bit harsh, as the Reagan era while supported by Boomers, was largely an attempt by the WWII generation to bring us back to an idyllic “morning in America” that never actually existed. Even so, he is correct in that the Clinton and Bush eras have been characterized by war, greed and corruption. Hart’s final word is “a higher road and more challenging practice [for Boomers] would be for them to shut up and listen for a change.” Ouch!
Recently at a conference on social change, I made a presentation on the spirituality of hope for political activists based on some of the writings of Paulo Freire. One participant asked me what gave me hope. Without so much as a thought, I said: “My children and my students.” While I read about how undisciplined and unfocused young adults are, I continually SEE and MEET young adults who are passionate, intelligent, and concerned for peace and justice. I see people who are writing, acting, starting businesses, working overseas, teaching, and raising families in alternative ways. These young adults give me great hope for the future. My own children are exploring careers and life directions pointed at relieving suffering and challenging injustice. As a result, I increasingly find myself sitting back and listening because I think they have great insights that still can make a positive difference in the world.
While it is a time when young adults are stepping up, it’s not a time for Boomers to sit down. I would hope we can learn and grow together and continue to address some of the major challenges that still face us: old, young and in-between.
In the opening article, “The New Elders” Eric Utne and Richard Leider propose that because Boomers are working and living longer, they ought to focus on passing along the wisdom of their experiences, both positive and negative. They also propose that Boomers need to listen to Millenials and Baby Busters because they have mastered the world of information. The mixture of wisdom with knowledge could be a powerful combination. Of course, in order to mentor someone, you have to be asked.
That is the issue K.C. Compton takes up in the second article, “You Say You Want a Revolution.” Compton, a woman in her 50’s, recounts all the cultural and societal changes that came about because of the activism of the 1960’s and early 1970’s. She admits that Boomers can be “narcissistic and self-righteous,” but claims that her generation didn’t fail, they just got overwhelmed with all that needed to be changed. Compton goes too easy on Boomers. I remember thinking even in college in the early 70’s that most folks in my generation were shifting from a superficial commitment to change to an all-out embrace of materialism. We didn’t get overwhelmed; we switched sides.
The final article, “Tangled Up in Me” is written by Joseph Hart, a non-Boomer who basically thinks Boomers overestimate their worth and value. He writes, “the generation that exhorted us to never trust anyone older than 30 – then grew up and proved the point by ushering in the long nightmare of social conservatism and permanent war that is our current reality.” Hart’s critique is a bit harsh, as the Reagan era while supported by Boomers, was largely an attempt by the WWII generation to bring us back to an idyllic “morning in America” that never actually existed. Even so, he is correct in that the Clinton and Bush eras have been characterized by war, greed and corruption. Hart’s final word is “a higher road and more challenging practice [for Boomers] would be for them to shut up and listen for a change.” Ouch!
Recently at a conference on social change, I made a presentation on the spirituality of hope for political activists based on some of the writings of Paulo Freire. One participant asked me what gave me hope. Without so much as a thought, I said: “My children and my students.” While I read about how undisciplined and unfocused young adults are, I continually SEE and MEET young adults who are passionate, intelligent, and concerned for peace and justice. I see people who are writing, acting, starting businesses, working overseas, teaching, and raising families in alternative ways. These young adults give me great hope for the future. My own children are exploring careers and life directions pointed at relieving suffering and challenging injustice. As a result, I increasingly find myself sitting back and listening because I think they have great insights that still can make a positive difference in the world.
While it is a time when young adults are stepping up, it’s not a time for Boomers to sit down. I would hope we can learn and grow together and continue to address some of the major challenges that still face us: old, young and in-between.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Irish Reflections
Recently, I spent 12 days in Ireland with my wife and twenty year old daughter. I had never been to the “green isle” before, so this was new adventure. As I understand it, Ireland has experienced an economic resurgence over the past decade, and as a result has emerged as the European vacation of choice for many Americans (according to at least one tour guide I spoke with). For nearly two weeks I was immersed in Irish life and culture, which I found interesting and refreshing. I would like to share four concrete insights that struck me on my trip. Even though they are obviously through the lens of a tourist (for Ireland’s tourist industry is definitely a well-oiled machine), I think there may be some deeper realities to consider.
One thing that strikes any American visitor to Ireland is the cleanliness of the place. Not only are the streets clean and trash picked up, but the air is clear and free of smog, even in Dublin which is a bustling city of over a million people. The parks are beautifully maintained, as if they are golf courses. More importantly, throughout the country there are signs reminding people to recycle and to think in terms of renewable energy. Because the roads are narrow and the gas prices high, people drive small, energy efficient cars. We saw several brands of cars (such as a Nissan Micra) that aren’t even sold in the United States, and we didn’t see one gas-guzzling SUV. During the entire tip I only saw one public restroom that had paper towels to dry your hands; everywhere else there were blowers to dry one’s hands. Instead of environmental responsibility being an individual choice, as it is in the U.S., in Ireland environmental concern is a cultural mandate. I could not help but recognize how arrogant and wasteful the U.S. attitude toward ecological concerns are compared to the Irish.
Closely aligned to their environmental concerns is the sense of connection to the rest of the world. Ireland is a member in the European Union and so our money was in the form of Euros. On the news reports there was this clear awareness that Ireland was part of a larger global community, not only with Europe, but throughout the world. In the city of Dublin banners adorn the light poles that announce that Dublin is a “fair trade city,” thus linking Dublin’s economy to the farmers and producers in developing countries. Almost all the coffee shops we entered sold fair trade coffee and many of the markets had fair trade fruits and vegetables. In this country we often talk about being part of a global community, but we do so only on our terms. If we don’t agree with what the rest of the world desires, be it in military matters, foreign policy, or business, we think we are big enough to simply go it alone. As we are finding out in Iraq, that is a dangerously flawed policy. The Irish, by contrast, have what appears to be a healthy sense of interdependence.
During our time there, the country was involved in the all-Ireland finals for Gaelic Football and for Hurling. For those who haven’t been introduced to these two sports, they are fast moving, high scoring, and exciting to watch, and Irish people get as excited about their sports, as Americans do theirs. I would love to see Hurling (which is sort of combination lacrosse, soccer, and football) come to the United States. One night I sat in a pub talking to older Irish men, and was surprised to learn that virtually all sports in Ireland are amateur. So when 50,000+ folks packed into Dublin’s Croke stadium to see the Hurling Semifinals, they were watching guys who had to go back to work on Monday just like them. I found it refreshing to realize that the Irish players and spectators participate for the love of sport, and the business of sport is a minor concern. While I am sure there is manipulation and corruption at some level, they have not so distorted sport that a few big, fast, brawny guys get rewarded with salaries and accolades that are way out of line with their overall social value, while spectators are endlessly gouged.
Finally, I was struck by the sense of history among the Irish. We visited ruins that went back as far as 7000 B.C., toured castles of the 12 century and saw prisons that held the revolutionaries from the rebellions of the early 1900’s. Now in part this was due to the fact that these sites are featured in the tourism guides, and I was told by some Irish folks that like elsewhere visitors are often more aware of their history than the Irish are. I know that is true for Philadelphia; many local residents have never visited the historic district. Even so, because so many ancient buildings still stand and are still in use, history is just embedded into the way people live. The Irish language is now being taught in school, after almost being eradicated by the English in the 18th and 19th century. Like other countries going through an economic boon, Ireland has experienced an influx of immigrants, particularly from Poland, Russia and Asia, yet even with that there is a sense of rootedness that was interesting. Not only did I get the sense that the Irish are connected to the rest of the world, but they are connected to their ancestors and their past. They have a greater sense of where they have come from.
My buddies at the pub assured me that Ireland has its share of problems. Apparently, the prime minister is involved is in some sort of scandal, and there was evidence of debates over land use and the huge subsidies that are paid to Irish farmers. So by no means do I mean to paint Ireland as a utopia. However, whenever one goes to another country or culture, he/she has the opportunity to see their own culture in a fresh light. That is what happened to me. There is so much more I could say, and you are welcome to look at some pictures we took. But I was struck by what we as American could learn from the Irish; I came away very much touched by their refreshing approach to life in the world today.
One thing that strikes any American visitor to Ireland is the cleanliness of the place. Not only are the streets clean and trash picked up, but the air is clear and free of smog, even in Dublin which is a bustling city of over a million people. The parks are beautifully maintained, as if they are golf courses. More importantly, throughout the country there are signs reminding people to recycle and to think in terms of renewable energy. Because the roads are narrow and the gas prices high, people drive small, energy efficient cars. We saw several brands of cars (such as a Nissan Micra) that aren’t even sold in the United States, and we didn’t see one gas-guzzling SUV. During the entire tip I only saw one public restroom that had paper towels to dry your hands; everywhere else there were blowers to dry one’s hands. Instead of environmental responsibility being an individual choice, as it is in the U.S., in Ireland environmental concern is a cultural mandate. I could not help but recognize how arrogant and wasteful the U.S. attitude toward ecological concerns are compared to the Irish.
Closely aligned to their environmental concerns is the sense of connection to the rest of the world. Ireland is a member in the European Union and so our money was in the form of Euros. On the news reports there was this clear awareness that Ireland was part of a larger global community, not only with Europe, but throughout the world. In the city of Dublin banners adorn the light poles that announce that Dublin is a “fair trade city,” thus linking Dublin’s economy to the farmers and producers in developing countries. Almost all the coffee shops we entered sold fair trade coffee and many of the markets had fair trade fruits and vegetables. In this country we often talk about being part of a global community, but we do so only on our terms. If we don’t agree with what the rest of the world desires, be it in military matters, foreign policy, or business, we think we are big enough to simply go it alone. As we are finding out in Iraq, that is a dangerously flawed policy. The Irish, by contrast, have what appears to be a healthy sense of interdependence.
During our time there, the country was involved in the all-Ireland finals for Gaelic Football and for Hurling. For those who haven’t been introduced to these two sports, they are fast moving, high scoring, and exciting to watch, and Irish people get as excited about their sports, as Americans do theirs. I would love to see Hurling (which is sort of combination lacrosse, soccer, and football) come to the United States. One night I sat in a pub talking to older Irish men, and was surprised to learn that virtually all sports in Ireland are amateur. So when 50,000+ folks packed into Dublin’s Croke stadium to see the Hurling Semifinals, they were watching guys who had to go back to work on Monday just like them. I found it refreshing to realize that the Irish players and spectators participate for the love of sport, and the business of sport is a minor concern. While I am sure there is manipulation and corruption at some level, they have not so distorted sport that a few big, fast, brawny guys get rewarded with salaries and accolades that are way out of line with their overall social value, while spectators are endlessly gouged.
Finally, I was struck by the sense of history among the Irish. We visited ruins that went back as far as 7000 B.C., toured castles of the 12 century and saw prisons that held the revolutionaries from the rebellions of the early 1900’s. Now in part this was due to the fact that these sites are featured in the tourism guides, and I was told by some Irish folks that like elsewhere visitors are often more aware of their history than the Irish are. I know that is true for Philadelphia; many local residents have never visited the historic district. Even so, because so many ancient buildings still stand and are still in use, history is just embedded into the way people live. The Irish language is now being taught in school, after almost being eradicated by the English in the 18th and 19th century. Like other countries going through an economic boon, Ireland has experienced an influx of immigrants, particularly from Poland, Russia and Asia, yet even with that there is a sense of rootedness that was interesting. Not only did I get the sense that the Irish are connected to the rest of the world, but they are connected to their ancestors and their past. They have a greater sense of where they have come from.
My buddies at the pub assured me that Ireland has its share of problems. Apparently, the prime minister is involved is in some sort of scandal, and there was evidence of debates over land use and the huge subsidies that are paid to Irish farmers. So by no means do I mean to paint Ireland as a utopia. However, whenever one goes to another country or culture, he/she has the opportunity to see their own culture in a fresh light. That is what happened to me. There is so much more I could say, and you are welcome to look at some pictures we took. But I was struck by what we as American could learn from the Irish; I came away very much touched by their refreshing approach to life in the world today.
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