I graduated from seminary with my Masters in Divinity two weeks ago. So of course, the first obvious question is: what am I actually going to do post graduation? That's such a great question and one that I have been asked repeatedly for about the last month, hence this blog post. This is my attempt to let everyone know what exactly I will be up to for the next few months or more.
I do have something lined up for the summer. Starting next Monday, June 8th, I will be starting a unit of what is referred to as Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE). This is one of the last remaining requirements I have left for my ordination process and will be 10 weeks of intensive clinical self-examination and peer group meetings. Most people do their CPE units at a hospital. I'm taking a different route, however, and will be doing mine with the SF Night Ministry doing street chaplaincy with the homeless. This is a population that I am excited to work with and a population that I feel called to work with. I'm looking forward to reaching out to them and being a helping, pastoral presence in their lives. The unit will include leading Bible Studies, walking the streets at night and being a crisis line volunteer. There's a lot of other logistics of it that I still don't entirely know yet so I am looking forward to learning more about it this coming Monday when we have orientation. The only part I don't like is that CPE doesn't pay anything at all so I'm going to be living off what is left from my student loans this past semester. Money is going to be really tight for me this summer which is not ideal but I'm going to make it work. I've arranged to continue living on campus through the summer and have already moved into a cheaper apartment on campus that will save me some money.
As for what's after the summer? That's still being figured out. Over the last few months, I've come to realise that I really want to stay in the Bay Area for a little while longer. My heart is here. My friends are here. My life is here so why leave? So, I've determined that I'm going to stay here and make it work for at least another year. Come next August, I'm going to re-assess and decide if I still feel called to stay here or if it is time for me to move on to a new adventure. I don't really see myself settling down anywhere for very long. I'm fortunate in that I have the freedom to do that. I don't have a mortgage, a partner or kids so I'm very open to going wherever I might feel called to go next. For right now, that's the Bay Area. The cost of living here is ridiculous and that is the part that is going to be the most difficult factor. Yet, I'm resourceful and can live on very little so I just have to be smart about it and I can make it work.
So, what about jobs? You might think that since I have a Masters in Divinity now that I would be looking for church jobs. Well, you would be wrong. I've been realising that I really have been feeling burned out on church work, actually. It's really the only kind of work I've done and I think it would be good for me to experience other types of work before I commit myself fully to it. I'm really interested in trying something in the non-profit sector. I've never worked for a non-profit before and think it would be good for me to have some experience in that realm. I'm also looking at different types of chaplaincy positions because it wouldn't hurt to have that experience under my belt either. What I've realised about myself is that I love preaching. I love writing liturgy and crafting worship services. But I don't really love all the other aspects of church work. I think I'd be fine with doing something along the lines of guest preaching occasionally on a Sunday morning. That way, I get to do the preaching and liturgy writing that I love without all the other aspects of ministry that I don't.
As for ordination, I'm still deciding if that is something I still want to pursue. I've come to realise that for me, it isn't the most important thing anymore. I don't have to have it to lead a successful, happy life. I'm going to be just fine if I never get ordained. I really will be. So, while I do plan on finishing up all the requirements for ordination, I can't say for sure that I'm going to actually get ordained. I just don't feel ready at the age of 30 to make such a major life decision, particularly one that stays with me for the rest of my life. If I get to the age of 40 and still want it, it will still be there for me.
Ultimately, what I've realised is that I just want to be happy and be able to support myself. As long as both those criteria are fulfilled, I'm going to be just fine. I sincerely believe that a person is not their job. A person is a person and they just happen to have a job. So, whether I'm working at Starbucks or pastoring a church or working for a non-profit, I'm going to be just fine regardless because I'm still me, not the job. I think we tend to lose sight of that fact nowadays. I've got some promising job leads that I'm going to be pursuing over the course of the summer but even if I end up working at Barnes and Noble, that doesn't make me a failure or doesn't mean that I wasted the last four years of my life. I'm still a success. I'm still a person. I still have value. That's what I have come to realise over the course of the last few months.
So, that's where things stand now. I've got housing and a job lined up for the summer and I'm going to be vigorously pursuing other jobs for the fall and other housing options. Here's hoping it all goes well and I get to stay here in the Bay Area for at least another year.
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
Friday, April 24, 2015
How to Succeed in Seminary (Without Really Trying)
Today, I was blessed to preach my senior sermon to my professors, colleagues, classmates and friends. It was truly an honor to be at the pulpit today. Here's the text of my sermon for those who weren't able to be there in person. Scripture texts are Exodus 4: 10 - 13 & Philippians 4: 8-13.
My name is Moses. I was called by God to deliver the Israelites out of Egypt and take them to a land where they would no longer be slaves. God asked me to do this in spite of the fact that I was in no way, shape or form qualified for the job. I had never held any type of important positions in any organization before that. I mean, when God spoke to me, I was a sheep herder for my father in law and a fugitive from justice. So, what in the world did I know about anything involving successfully leading people to do anything at all? Did I mention that I had a speech impediment and wasn’t exactly known for being a great orator? Yeah, good job God. You picked a real winner here!
Yet, God used me anyway. God made me a great orator. God helped me lead my people out of Israel and into the Promised Land. Sure, there were some speed bumps along the way. Pharaoh wasn’t too happy about letting us go and there was that whole roaming through the desert for 40 years debacle and don’t even get me started on that whole golden calf drama. Yeah, needless to say, it wasn’t always smooth sailing. Yet, in the end, it all worked out as you may have heard by now. The Israelites were freed from the land of Egypt and became a great and powerful nation. And it was, at least in part, thanks to my leadership. God used me to help deliver God’s people in spite of the fact that I wasn’t at all the right person for the job based on my prior history. I never saw myself as the type of person who would do all that I did. Somehow, God did though.
The Bible is full of characters like Moses, characters who at first glance you would never imagine would be remembered as important or essential or be seen as great leaders. Characters who if they existed today would have been written off by society as failures. You had Jacob, the liar. David, the adulterer. Abraham and Sarah, the infertile elderly couple. Rahab, the prostitute. And let’s not forget to add Jesus to this list. A man who in his 33 years of life led an unsuccessful attempt to challenge the status quo and was publicly humiliated, tortured and executed while his own followers either betrayed him, denied him or completely abandoned him. Not exactly what any of us would define as a success story, right?!
I’m supposed to be preaching today about the topic of success. That is, after all, why I titled my sermon “How to Succeed in Seminary (Without Really Trying)”! Yet, I must confess something to you. I literally know absolutely nothing about this topic. You see, I’ve never succeeded at anything in my entire life. If you were to look up the word “failure” in the dictionary, you’d see my picture! Everything I’ve tried, I’ve been a failure at. I’ve never been any good at sports or mathematics or science or relationships or keeping a budget or taking care of myself or gaining weight or remembering to do things on my to do list or finding a job or sleeping. I’m not particularly clever or funny. I pretend to be much smarter than I actually am. I am 30 years old and yet I can barely tie my shoes. I never learned how to swim. I just recently learned that people actually floss their teeth and to top it all off, I can’t even make a grilled cheese sandwich successfully!
So, why in the world would I ever even pretend like I have anything to say at all about the topic of success? Where did I, someone who society would label a complete and total failure, get the idea that I can even possibly know at all what it means to succeed?
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”. Sounds great, doesn’t it? I have to confess this is perhaps my favorite verse in the entire Bible and I think many Christians would say the same thing. It is so empowering and so encouraging and so simplistic, isn't it? Yet, are Paul’s words actually true? Can we really do all things through Christ? What does that phrase even mean? Does it mean that all I have to do is believe in Jesus and I will pass that test? Or get that job? Or even get that mysterious third date with someone?
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”. Really? Can I now? Because as stated earlier, it sure doesn’t seem like I can. If that were indeed the case, my life would surely have been a whole lot easier and I would know what it looks like to succeed.
I think what Paul is intending to say here is that simply believing in Christ isn’t actually enough. You have to show your beliefs through your actions. “Whatever is true. Whatever is honorable. Whatever is just. Whatever is pure. Whatever is pleasing. Whatever is commendable.” Do those things and you really will be able to do all things. It is not enough to simply be a Christian. Anyone can do that. We have seen that plenty of times over the centuries. However, simply claiming the title of Christian means nothing if you aren’t willing to live into that label and do Christian things.
So, without further ado, let me present exclusively “Tad’s Tips on How to Succeed in Seminary (or in Life) (Without Really Trying).”
Step 1: Love but more importantly allow yourself to be loved. Allow others to see you, the real you. Allow yourself to get close to others even when you know it might hurt because it will. When you are in the midst of a nervous breakdown because you failed yet another quiz, permit others to comfort you as you cry. When you feel as if your entire life is spiralling out of control and you don’t see any way out, call up someone and ask them to come sit with you as you eat ice cream and vent. Lastly, allow yourself to make friends, real, life-long friends. The kind of friends who will continue to be friends with you in spite of your many, many, many flaws or failures. The kind of friends who will still love you even after you make outrageous, outlandish statements in the middle of class about hating babies. Oh yes, they will continue to remind you about it for years afterward but they won’t let that stop them from loving you. That’s the first step to success.
Step 2: Don't be afraid to raise your voice and speak out. Speak out against the sins of homophobia, sexism, racism, classism, transphobia and other societal evils. Use your voice and don’t let anyone tell you that you have nothing important to say. If you have a problem with the way things are being done or if you feel like you’ve been wronged, speak up. Don’t believe the lie that the world may tell you that your voice isn’t necessary because you aren’t part of the dominant paradigm. That is precisely why your voice is so important. Our world needs to hear the voices of women, of queer people, of trans people, of African American, Asian, Latino and Latina people. Low income, no income, all those voices need to be heard and need to be shown respect. If I have learned nothing else from my time here, it is this very fact. You have a voice. You have a power. You have a chance to change the world. Take it, always.
Step 3: Do well but more importantly, do good. Get out into your communities and do something that helps others. Whether it be making dinner for the homeless, teaching Sunday School to children, babysitting, or any number of other things, don’t let yourself off the hook for getting involved. Our world needs more committed citizens like us out there in the streets: marching for marriage equality; protesting for women’s rights; lobbying for prison reform. It is part of our calling as Christians to help others. It is part of our calling as human beings to work to make a better system for others. It is part of our very essence to want to see others succeed. So, do it. Get out there and get in the streets. You won’t regret it, not even for a second.
Step 4: This is the final step. Give yourself permission to fail. Yes, I did just say that one of the steps to success is to fail. Perhaps that sounds counter-intuitive, maybe even counter-cultural. However, it means you have the freedom to not put so much pressure on yourself. Here’s a simple fact that I absolutely hate to admit publicly. You can’t do everything. You especially can’t do everything well. Thus, give yourself permission to drop the ball or fail or let someone down. It is going to happen and that is ok. It may happen multiple times over the course of your life. That is ok too. You won’t like it. You may feel like a complete and total loser. You aren’t. Not even for one second. Just because you fail in certain aspects of your life doesn’t make you a failure at life. Take it from someone who knows, a scrawny nerdy gay kid from Texas with learning disabilities and a speech impediment. Take it from NBA legend Michael Jordan who once said, “ I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life and that is why I succeed.” Take it from the Biblical narrative. God still used Moses, a murderer and a fugitive with a speech impediment and made him leader of the Israelites. God still used David and Rahab and Abraham and Noah and many other “failures” to achieve God’s plan for humanity. If God can use them, in spite of their failings, doesn’t it make sense that God can use you and me too?
So, those are my four tips on how to succeed in seminary without really trying. But wait, you are saying to yourself. Those are all great pieces of advice but none of them will help me achieve an A on my Theology test or help me write my final papers. What gives? I want to know how to succeed academically. I thought that was what you were going to tell us. You are correct, nothing I told you will help you succeed academically or guarantee that you make all As. Making good grades isn’t a bad thing but it isn’t a true measure of success. What will matter? That you loved and were loved. That you spoke up and raised your voice. That you did good in your communities and your world. That you gave yourself permission to fail. That’s the true measure of success. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”. Now, we have to actually go and do. In Christ’s name, AMEN.
My name is Moses. I was called by God to deliver the Israelites out of Egypt and take them to a land where they would no longer be slaves. God asked me to do this in spite of the fact that I was in no way, shape or form qualified for the job. I had never held any type of important positions in any organization before that. I mean, when God spoke to me, I was a sheep herder for my father in law and a fugitive from justice. So, what in the world did I know about anything involving successfully leading people to do anything at all? Did I mention that I had a speech impediment and wasn’t exactly known for being a great orator? Yeah, good job God. You picked a real winner here!
Yet, God used me anyway. God made me a great orator. God helped me lead my people out of Israel and into the Promised Land. Sure, there were some speed bumps along the way. Pharaoh wasn’t too happy about letting us go and there was that whole roaming through the desert for 40 years debacle and don’t even get me started on that whole golden calf drama. Yeah, needless to say, it wasn’t always smooth sailing. Yet, in the end, it all worked out as you may have heard by now. The Israelites were freed from the land of Egypt and became a great and powerful nation. And it was, at least in part, thanks to my leadership. God used me to help deliver God’s people in spite of the fact that I wasn’t at all the right person for the job based on my prior history. I never saw myself as the type of person who would do all that I did. Somehow, God did though.
The Bible is full of characters like Moses, characters who at first glance you would never imagine would be remembered as important or essential or be seen as great leaders. Characters who if they existed today would have been written off by society as failures. You had Jacob, the liar. David, the adulterer. Abraham and Sarah, the infertile elderly couple. Rahab, the prostitute. And let’s not forget to add Jesus to this list. A man who in his 33 years of life led an unsuccessful attempt to challenge the status quo and was publicly humiliated, tortured and executed while his own followers either betrayed him, denied him or completely abandoned him. Not exactly what any of us would define as a success story, right?!
I’m supposed to be preaching today about the topic of success. That is, after all, why I titled my sermon “How to Succeed in Seminary (Without Really Trying)”! Yet, I must confess something to you. I literally know absolutely nothing about this topic. You see, I’ve never succeeded at anything in my entire life. If you were to look up the word “failure” in the dictionary, you’d see my picture! Everything I’ve tried, I’ve been a failure at. I’ve never been any good at sports or mathematics or science or relationships or keeping a budget or taking care of myself or gaining weight or remembering to do things on my to do list or finding a job or sleeping. I’m not particularly clever or funny. I pretend to be much smarter than I actually am. I am 30 years old and yet I can barely tie my shoes. I never learned how to swim. I just recently learned that people actually floss their teeth and to top it all off, I can’t even make a grilled cheese sandwich successfully!
So, why in the world would I ever even pretend like I have anything to say at all about the topic of success? Where did I, someone who society would label a complete and total failure, get the idea that I can even possibly know at all what it means to succeed?
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”. Sounds great, doesn’t it? I have to confess this is perhaps my favorite verse in the entire Bible and I think many Christians would say the same thing. It is so empowering and so encouraging and so simplistic, isn't it? Yet, are Paul’s words actually true? Can we really do all things through Christ? What does that phrase even mean? Does it mean that all I have to do is believe in Jesus and I will pass that test? Or get that job? Or even get that mysterious third date with someone?
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”. Really? Can I now? Because as stated earlier, it sure doesn’t seem like I can. If that were indeed the case, my life would surely have been a whole lot easier and I would know what it looks like to succeed.
I think what Paul is intending to say here is that simply believing in Christ isn’t actually enough. You have to show your beliefs through your actions. “Whatever is true. Whatever is honorable. Whatever is just. Whatever is pure. Whatever is pleasing. Whatever is commendable.” Do those things and you really will be able to do all things. It is not enough to simply be a Christian. Anyone can do that. We have seen that plenty of times over the centuries. However, simply claiming the title of Christian means nothing if you aren’t willing to live into that label and do Christian things.
So, without further ado, let me present exclusively “Tad’s Tips on How to Succeed in Seminary (or in Life) (Without Really Trying).”
Step 1: Love but more importantly allow yourself to be loved. Allow others to see you, the real you. Allow yourself to get close to others even when you know it might hurt because it will. When you are in the midst of a nervous breakdown because you failed yet another quiz, permit others to comfort you as you cry. When you feel as if your entire life is spiralling out of control and you don’t see any way out, call up someone and ask them to come sit with you as you eat ice cream and vent. Lastly, allow yourself to make friends, real, life-long friends. The kind of friends who will continue to be friends with you in spite of your many, many, many flaws or failures. The kind of friends who will still love you even after you make outrageous, outlandish statements in the middle of class about hating babies. Oh yes, they will continue to remind you about it for years afterward but they won’t let that stop them from loving you. That’s the first step to success.
Step 2: Don't be afraid to raise your voice and speak out. Speak out against the sins of homophobia, sexism, racism, classism, transphobia and other societal evils. Use your voice and don’t let anyone tell you that you have nothing important to say. If you have a problem with the way things are being done or if you feel like you’ve been wronged, speak up. Don’t believe the lie that the world may tell you that your voice isn’t necessary because you aren’t part of the dominant paradigm. That is precisely why your voice is so important. Our world needs to hear the voices of women, of queer people, of trans people, of African American, Asian, Latino and Latina people. Low income, no income, all those voices need to be heard and need to be shown respect. If I have learned nothing else from my time here, it is this very fact. You have a voice. You have a power. You have a chance to change the world. Take it, always.
Step 3: Do well but more importantly, do good. Get out into your communities and do something that helps others. Whether it be making dinner for the homeless, teaching Sunday School to children, babysitting, or any number of other things, don’t let yourself off the hook for getting involved. Our world needs more committed citizens like us out there in the streets: marching for marriage equality; protesting for women’s rights; lobbying for prison reform. It is part of our calling as Christians to help others. It is part of our calling as human beings to work to make a better system for others. It is part of our very essence to want to see others succeed. So, do it. Get out there and get in the streets. You won’t regret it, not even for a second.
Step 4: This is the final step. Give yourself permission to fail. Yes, I did just say that one of the steps to success is to fail. Perhaps that sounds counter-intuitive, maybe even counter-cultural. However, it means you have the freedom to not put so much pressure on yourself. Here’s a simple fact that I absolutely hate to admit publicly. You can’t do everything. You especially can’t do everything well. Thus, give yourself permission to drop the ball or fail or let someone down. It is going to happen and that is ok. It may happen multiple times over the course of your life. That is ok too. You won’t like it. You may feel like a complete and total loser. You aren’t. Not even for one second. Just because you fail in certain aspects of your life doesn’t make you a failure at life. Take it from someone who knows, a scrawny nerdy gay kid from Texas with learning disabilities and a speech impediment. Take it from NBA legend Michael Jordan who once said, “ I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life and that is why I succeed.” Take it from the Biblical narrative. God still used Moses, a murderer and a fugitive with a speech impediment and made him leader of the Israelites. God still used David and Rahab and Abraham and Noah and many other “failures” to achieve God’s plan for humanity. If God can use them, in spite of their failings, doesn’t it make sense that God can use you and me too?
So, those are my four tips on how to succeed in seminary without really trying. But wait, you are saying to yourself. Those are all great pieces of advice but none of them will help me achieve an A on my Theology test or help me write my final papers. What gives? I want to know how to succeed academically. I thought that was what you were going to tell us. You are correct, nothing I told you will help you succeed academically or guarantee that you make all As. Making good grades isn’t a bad thing but it isn’t a true measure of success. What will matter? That you loved and were loved. That you spoke up and raised your voice. That you did good in your communities and your world. That you gave yourself permission to fail. That’s the true measure of success. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me”. Now, we have to actually go and do. In Christ’s name, AMEN.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
The Kids Are Alright?
I am participating in the UncoSynchro blog, a writing collaborative effort from #UNCO, focusing on subversive themes of faith and life. The theme for March is (un)Lucky.
Disclaimer: this blog post is in no way intended to criticize, shame or otherwise denigrate those who have made a different life choice than me. It is simply intended to give my thoughts on the matter.
I want to write today about a topic that has been on my mind for many years now: the subject of kids. For a long time, I really did genuinely believe that I wanted kids. I thought that that was something I wanted and thought I would make a great dad someday.
Yet, I've come to think slightly differently on the matter. I've been giving it a lot of thought and I've realised that having kids isn't as important to me as I once thought it to be. I think I've realised that if I never have kids, that's ok. Not everyone has to have children. Not everyone has to make that choice. That doesn't mean that I've somehow failed or that I've been unlucky. That also doesn't mean that my life is somehow less fulfilling if I haven't had kids.
That's a phrase that really gets under my skin: this idea that people who don't have children are somehow less fulfilled or less satisfied with life. That's quite frankly, incredibly insulting and ignorant to say to someone. You can have just as fulfilling and just as successful a life if you never have children as someone who has. It just means that you put your centre of value into something else besides your children. It could be your career or your volunteer work or your partner or your friends or your pets or something else entirely. Any number of things can bring you fulfilment or joy, it doesn't have to be children.
Also, can we please not look down on people who don't have kids and feel sorry for them? Again, insulting and degrading. You don't know all their life circumstances that have led to them not having children. For me personally, I just don't see the appeal or the point really. I recently went through and made a pro/con list of all the reasons to have or not have children and honestly, the cons won out. This doesn't mean that having children is a bad thing or the wrong choice. I want to validate those people who have had children and let you know that I support your decision and the reasons why you made it (whether or not it was intentional).
For me, though, I just don't see the appeal. Having kids can be a real burden and a real pain and I don't see a reason to sign up for that. Plus, I love to travel and I know that that would probably not be able to continue if I have children (or at least not to the extent that I would like it to). There's also the fact that you lose a piece of your identity when you have children. You no longer are yourself. Instead, you become "Jacob's daddy" or "Susie's mommy" or simply just "Daddy". For me, as someone who's struggled with identity issues my whole life, having to give up a part of my identity has zero appeal for me. Not to mention the fact that I would never get to sleep in again and as someone with insomnia, I crave being able to sleep in! And there's also the fact that your time is not yours anymore. Your days become all about your kids and their schedules and their needs and it stops becoming about you.
So, are those selfish reasons to not have children? Perhaps but isn't it also just a little bit for selfish reasons that people have children anyway? There's a need to care for something. There's a need to have your legacy preserved. There's a need to have that identity or status that being a parent gives you. I'm not saying that those are bad reasons to want kids. Not at all. What I am saying is that they are, in a sense, selfish reasons. So, it is selfish to want kids and selfish to not want kids.
Here's my somewhat rambling point of all this. Not having kids doesn't mean that I'm somehow unlucky or haven't been successful in life. I'd like to think that when I get to the end of my life, I will look back with pride on my accomplishments even if they don't include children. I'd like to believe that irregardless of having children or not, I will still feel like my life has been blessed and that I've led a pretty lucky life. I'd like to think that my choice to not have children will be respected and appreciated by society and by my friends. For the longest time, I was bowing to societal pressure to want kids. Now, I'm choosing to go against the grain and declare that it really doesn't matter to me if I never have children. I'm going to be ok either way. At the end, what really matters is whether or not I've made a difference in the world and whether or not I've been loved and have loved. That can come in a myriad of other ways besides children.
I think I'm a pretty lucky guy, even without the kids. And I think that will continue to be the case even if the children never happen. The kids will be alright and so will I!
Disclaimer: this blog post is in no way intended to criticize, shame or otherwise denigrate those who have made a different life choice than me. It is simply intended to give my thoughts on the matter.
I want to write today about a topic that has been on my mind for many years now: the subject of kids. For a long time, I really did genuinely believe that I wanted kids. I thought that that was something I wanted and thought I would make a great dad someday.
Yet, I've come to think slightly differently on the matter. I've been giving it a lot of thought and I've realised that having kids isn't as important to me as I once thought it to be. I think I've realised that if I never have kids, that's ok. Not everyone has to have children. Not everyone has to make that choice. That doesn't mean that I've somehow failed or that I've been unlucky. That also doesn't mean that my life is somehow less fulfilling if I haven't had kids.
That's a phrase that really gets under my skin: this idea that people who don't have children are somehow less fulfilled or less satisfied with life. That's quite frankly, incredibly insulting and ignorant to say to someone. You can have just as fulfilling and just as successful a life if you never have children as someone who has. It just means that you put your centre of value into something else besides your children. It could be your career or your volunteer work or your partner or your friends or your pets or something else entirely. Any number of things can bring you fulfilment or joy, it doesn't have to be children.
Also, can we please not look down on people who don't have kids and feel sorry for them? Again, insulting and degrading. You don't know all their life circumstances that have led to them not having children. For me personally, I just don't see the appeal or the point really. I recently went through and made a pro/con list of all the reasons to have or not have children and honestly, the cons won out. This doesn't mean that having children is a bad thing or the wrong choice. I want to validate those people who have had children and let you know that I support your decision and the reasons why you made it (whether or not it was intentional).
For me, though, I just don't see the appeal. Having kids can be a real burden and a real pain and I don't see a reason to sign up for that. Plus, I love to travel and I know that that would probably not be able to continue if I have children (or at least not to the extent that I would like it to). There's also the fact that you lose a piece of your identity when you have children. You no longer are yourself. Instead, you become "Jacob's daddy" or "Susie's mommy" or simply just "Daddy". For me, as someone who's struggled with identity issues my whole life, having to give up a part of my identity has zero appeal for me. Not to mention the fact that I would never get to sleep in again and as someone with insomnia, I crave being able to sleep in! And there's also the fact that your time is not yours anymore. Your days become all about your kids and their schedules and their needs and it stops becoming about you.
So, are those selfish reasons to not have children? Perhaps but isn't it also just a little bit for selfish reasons that people have children anyway? There's a need to care for something. There's a need to have your legacy preserved. There's a need to have that identity or status that being a parent gives you. I'm not saying that those are bad reasons to want kids. Not at all. What I am saying is that they are, in a sense, selfish reasons. So, it is selfish to want kids and selfish to not want kids.
Here's my somewhat rambling point of all this. Not having kids doesn't mean that I'm somehow unlucky or haven't been successful in life. I'd like to think that when I get to the end of my life, I will look back with pride on my accomplishments even if they don't include children. I'd like to believe that irregardless of having children or not, I will still feel like my life has been blessed and that I've led a pretty lucky life. I'd like to think that my choice to not have children will be respected and appreciated by society and by my friends. For the longest time, I was bowing to societal pressure to want kids. Now, I'm choosing to go against the grain and declare that it really doesn't matter to me if I never have children. I'm going to be ok either way. At the end, what really matters is whether or not I've made a difference in the world and whether or not I've been loved and have loved. That can come in a myriad of other ways besides children.
I think I'm a pretty lucky guy, even without the kids. And I think that will continue to be the case even if the children never happen. The kids will be alright and so will I!
Saturday, February 14, 2015
All About that Treble?
I am participating in the UncoSynchro blog, a writing collaborative effort from #UNCO, focusing on subversive themes of faith and life. The theme for February is (un)Loved.
It's Valentine's Day, a day I hate more than almost any other day. Thus, I felt it necessary to write a blog post about everyone's favourite subject, self-love. The following represent my thoughts on a subject that is highly personal to me and one that is also highly charged.
"You're too skinny"
"Are you anorexic?"
"You just need to eat more. That will put the weight on ya!"
"Have you tried working out? Lift some weights, it will do wonders for you."
"Come over to my house and I'll fatten you up in no time."
These are all comments I've received over the years from people who mean well. I admit it, I'm skinny. For those of you who've only read my blog and have never actually met me in person, let me paint the picture for you. I'm 5 ft 9.5 inches tall. I weigh maybe 130 pounds if I'm lucky. I have zero body fat and my metabolism is super fast meaning that I can't gain weight even when I try. I know what you're thinking. "He's so lucky. I'd love to have that problem. I'll gladly give him some of my weight."
Yeah, I've heard that one before too. How it must be so great to eat as much as I want and not gain a pound. Or how lucky I am that I'm not overweight and have to worry about health problems that come from that. I've heard pretty much every comment a person can hear about my weight. I know people mean well. I know those comments aren't meant to be hurtful. Most of the time, I am able to laugh it off and smile.
However, I don't think people realise how hurtful their comments can be sometimes. I've struggled with body image issues my whole life. I got called anorexic every single day of high school because I weighed less than 100 pounds the whole way through high school and people thought for sure I must be anorexic or something. For the record, I've never had any sort of eating disorder and I do in fact like to eat. I eat at least 2 meals a day, sometimes 3 and I snack constantly. The idea of intentionally skipping a meal or intentionally throwing it up after eating it has zero appeal to me. So, you don't need to worry. I'm eating. That's one thing I'm really good at: eating.
I've made peace with the way I look, mostly. Do I have times when I wish I was fatter or had more curves or had a six pack? Yes, yes I do. Somedays I look in the mirror and I'm really disgusted by what I see. I think our culture glamorises and idolises thinness to an unhealthy degree. We demonize fat people and call them lazy. However, that also means that we sometimes don't think about the fact that thin people can also struggle with body image. Yes, I'm skinny but it's not the "good" kind of skinny. I'm too skinny (whatever that might mean). I look like I haven't eaten in days or like I'm starving myself.
I'm trying to get to a place where I can love myself, all my non curves and non edges. Self-love is actually the hardest kind of love there is. It requires you to accept the fact that you are the way you are and that that isn't likely to change anytime soon. It requires you to quiet all the voices in your head that tell you that you are too skinny or that maybe you should be anorexic since everyone thinks you are anyway. It is not helped by well meaning voices telling me to eat more or work out more or offering to fatten me up. What those comments are really implying is that I'm not good enough as I am and that my current weight is unacceptable to those people. That doesn't make the task of loving myself very easy.
We need to think about the way we speak to each other and we need to be careful that our comments never imply that the other person isn't perfect the way they are. What I want more than anything is for others to affirm that the way I am is great and beautiful and worthy of being loved and that I don't need to do a thing to change it. I currently weigh the most I have ever weighed in my entire life. It is very possible that I will stay this weight for several more years, even decades. I want to be okay with that fact. I want to accept the fact that I weigh what I weigh and that is good enough. But then, somebody else says something like, "we need to fatten you up" and I realise that I'm not ok with it.
On this Valentine's Day, a day when we recognize and celebrate love, let us begin with self-love. Let us love ourselves as we are and not be so quick to try and change it. Let us love the bodies we were born with. Ok, so I don't have a six pack and I don't have muscles and I don't look like a male model. That's ok. I don't need to. I look like myself and that's good enough, don't you think?
It's Valentine's Day, a day I hate more than almost any other day. Thus, I felt it necessary to write a blog post about everyone's favourite subject, self-love. The following represent my thoughts on a subject that is highly personal to me and one that is also highly charged.
"You're too skinny"
"Are you anorexic?"
"You just need to eat more. That will put the weight on ya!"
"Have you tried working out? Lift some weights, it will do wonders for you."
"Come over to my house and I'll fatten you up in no time."
These are all comments I've received over the years from people who mean well. I admit it, I'm skinny. For those of you who've only read my blog and have never actually met me in person, let me paint the picture for you. I'm 5 ft 9.5 inches tall. I weigh maybe 130 pounds if I'm lucky. I have zero body fat and my metabolism is super fast meaning that I can't gain weight even when I try. I know what you're thinking. "He's so lucky. I'd love to have that problem. I'll gladly give him some of my weight."
Yeah, I've heard that one before too. How it must be so great to eat as much as I want and not gain a pound. Or how lucky I am that I'm not overweight and have to worry about health problems that come from that. I've heard pretty much every comment a person can hear about my weight. I know people mean well. I know those comments aren't meant to be hurtful. Most of the time, I am able to laugh it off and smile.
However, I don't think people realise how hurtful their comments can be sometimes. I've struggled with body image issues my whole life. I got called anorexic every single day of high school because I weighed less than 100 pounds the whole way through high school and people thought for sure I must be anorexic or something. For the record, I've never had any sort of eating disorder and I do in fact like to eat. I eat at least 2 meals a day, sometimes 3 and I snack constantly. The idea of intentionally skipping a meal or intentionally throwing it up after eating it has zero appeal to me. So, you don't need to worry. I'm eating. That's one thing I'm really good at: eating.
I've made peace with the way I look, mostly. Do I have times when I wish I was fatter or had more curves or had a six pack? Yes, yes I do. Somedays I look in the mirror and I'm really disgusted by what I see. I think our culture glamorises and idolises thinness to an unhealthy degree. We demonize fat people and call them lazy. However, that also means that we sometimes don't think about the fact that thin people can also struggle with body image. Yes, I'm skinny but it's not the "good" kind of skinny. I'm too skinny (whatever that might mean). I look like I haven't eaten in days or like I'm starving myself.
I'm trying to get to a place where I can love myself, all my non curves and non edges. Self-love is actually the hardest kind of love there is. It requires you to accept the fact that you are the way you are and that that isn't likely to change anytime soon. It requires you to quiet all the voices in your head that tell you that you are too skinny or that maybe you should be anorexic since everyone thinks you are anyway. It is not helped by well meaning voices telling me to eat more or work out more or offering to fatten me up. What those comments are really implying is that I'm not good enough as I am and that my current weight is unacceptable to those people. That doesn't make the task of loving myself very easy.
We need to think about the way we speak to each other and we need to be careful that our comments never imply that the other person isn't perfect the way they are. What I want more than anything is for others to affirm that the way I am is great and beautiful and worthy of being loved and that I don't need to do a thing to change it. I currently weigh the most I have ever weighed in my entire life. It is very possible that I will stay this weight for several more years, even decades. I want to be okay with that fact. I want to accept the fact that I weigh what I weigh and that is good enough. But then, somebody else says something like, "we need to fatten you up" and I realise that I'm not ok with it.
On this Valentine's Day, a day when we recognize and celebrate love, let us begin with self-love. Let us love ourselves as we are and not be so quick to try and change it. Let us love the bodies we were born with. Ok, so I don't have a six pack and I don't have muscles and I don't look like a male model. That's ok. I don't need to. I look like myself and that's good enough, don't you think?
Sunday, January 18, 2015
You Can't Stop the Beat
Here's the sermon I preached this morning at my church. Scripture text is Philemon 1: 8-21
My name is Onesimus. Perhaps you’ve heard of me? I’m mentioned several times in your Holy Book but only in one portion. The letter that Paul wrote to my master, Philemon. Paul says that he has met me and that he has converted me to his faith and that now he is sending me back to my master with the hope that my master will do the right thing and set me free as a favor to him.
What I find so interesting about Paul’s letter to my master is that not once does Paul ever ask me what I want. My voice is left completely out of the story and my silence is never once accounted for. Did Paul even think to ask me whether or not I wanted to return to my master? Did he think to ask me if I might rather have been seeking him out as a way to get away from my master? Did Paul bother to even consult me about what I thought my ultimate fate should be? No, he didn’t. My voice wasn’t considered important or interesting or necessary to Paul or to Philemon. Just like so many other characters in your Holy Book, I am left voiceless with no one to come to my defense and stand up for me. Who will speak for me? Who will stand up for me? Who will give me my voice back?
Onesimus has been silenced in the Bible. His voice and his interests are left completely out. He is just another nameless, faceless, speechless character whose own interests aren’t considered important or necessary or good. Yet, those were biblical times. Things were different then. We don’t still do that now, do we? We give everyone a voice and everyone a say, don't we?
Trayvon Martin. Oscar Grant. Michael Brown. Eric Garner. Sound familiar? These four men were all shot dead over the last few years because of the color of their skin. Their voices were silenced. Their voices weren’t considered important. Their voices were considered less worthy of attention and focus than their white assailants. Since their deaths, there have been attempts by the public and the media to paint some or all of them as “thugs” or “criminals” or some other such label that would somehow justify them being shot dead. As if it is somehow more socially acceptable to kill someone if they are a thug than it is if they aren’t. Their deaths have inspired protests and have also created the “Black Lives Matter” motto on social media.
More importantly, their deaths have sparked conversations all over the country about issues of race and racism. It has forced many white people to confront their own internal prejudices and biases toward their black brothers and sisters. It has also exposed the inherent racism that exists in our justice system as so far not a single indictment has come down for the white men who killed these black men.
Tomorrow, we celebrate Martin Luther King Jr. Day, a national holiday in which we are asked to remember the legacy of Dr. King, a man who worked so tirelessly for so long to help the Black voice be heard and be considered important. We are almost fifty years out from his assassination and it sadly doesn’t look like we are any closer to realizing his vision of living in a society where we really do believe that the black voice matters and shouldn’t be silenced.
It is absolutely vital that more white people speak up about this issue and stand in solidarity with their black brothers and sisters. Since we are the ones who perpetuate the racist system, we are also the ones who have the power to stop it. We can take action against the systems that perpetuate racism. We can stand up against racism and declare that the status quo isn’t benefiting all. We can even work to enact new laws that will ensure that our black brothers and sisters are given a more equal footing in society.
We can be the ones who demand that the black voices no longer be silenced. We can stand up and declare that the deaths of Trayvon, Eric, Oscar and Michael do matter and that their voices were silenced just like Onesimus’. We have to be the ones who demand that they be heard and that justice prevail. We can give Onesimus his voice back. We can demand that he be given a chance to speak his truth, his experience and his life. We can do the same for all the black people in our own lives whose voices have been silenced. I hear the cries of Trayvon & Michael and I hear the protests in places like Ferguson and New York City. As a white person, I admit my own complicity in the silencing of black voices and in the attempts to slander them and keep them oppressed.
So, I’ve identified the trouble with the text: the fact that Onesimus is silent. What about the grace then? What words of hope does this text have to say to a world troubled by Trayvon & Eric & Michael & Oscar? What does this text say to us that we can use to better engage with our black brothers and sisters and be a part of the solution, not the problem? It comes through Paul’s words that Onesimus was his beloved brother in Christ and thus Paul didn’t see him as a slave anymore. Through Christ Jesus, we are all united. We are Trayvon Martin. We are Eric Garner. We are Michael Brown & Oscar Grant and the many other nameless, faceless, silent black men who have been killed. This is the hope that white people can provide. A hope that one day, our system will support and uplift black bodies, not destroy them.
As Martin Luther King says, though, in his Letter From A Birmingham Jail, “Justice delayed is justice denied.” Thus, while we can provide hope, hope won’t be enough. While we continue to sit by and wait for a day when racism will end, more black people will die or be the victims of our racist policies. So, yes, hope is great but hope won’t prevent people like Michael Brown from being killed.
We have to be more than the hope then. We have to be the agents of change. Change is coming. You can’t stop the beat of history as it marches forward toward a new day. Let’s help make that new day today. Let’s be that change. Let’s be aware of our own privilege and use it to help, not hurt. Change won’t come about if we hope for it. We have to actively work for it, for the good of our black brothers and sisters. We have to fight for it, with them, not against them. It is up to us to begin the hard work of dismantling the systems of privilege that keep oppressing black people. It is up to us to vote for elected officials that will represent those voices that are silenced. It is up to us to stand up and speak out against racism in our culture and our world. It is up to us to do this hard and difficult yet necessary work. Onesimus won’t be kept silent anymore. Michael Brown won’t be kept silent anymore. Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin, Oscar Grant won’t be kept silent anymore. Their voices are rising up, out of the pages of history. Out of the pages of the Bible. Out of the pages that tell them that they should stay silent and stay oppressed. Do you hear that sound? That’s the sound of revolution. That’s the sound of their voices. That’s the sound of change. It’s coming. The only question that remains: are you going to join in or stay on the sidelines?
My name is Onesimus. Perhaps you’ve heard of me? I’m mentioned several times in your Holy Book but only in one portion. The letter that Paul wrote to my master, Philemon. Paul says that he has met me and that he has converted me to his faith and that now he is sending me back to my master with the hope that my master will do the right thing and set me free as a favor to him.
What I find so interesting about Paul’s letter to my master is that not once does Paul ever ask me what I want. My voice is left completely out of the story and my silence is never once accounted for. Did Paul even think to ask me whether or not I wanted to return to my master? Did he think to ask me if I might rather have been seeking him out as a way to get away from my master? Did Paul bother to even consult me about what I thought my ultimate fate should be? No, he didn’t. My voice wasn’t considered important or interesting or necessary to Paul or to Philemon. Just like so many other characters in your Holy Book, I am left voiceless with no one to come to my defense and stand up for me. Who will speak for me? Who will stand up for me? Who will give me my voice back?
Onesimus has been silenced in the Bible. His voice and his interests are left completely out. He is just another nameless, faceless, speechless character whose own interests aren’t considered important or necessary or good. Yet, those were biblical times. Things were different then. We don’t still do that now, do we? We give everyone a voice and everyone a say, don't we?
Trayvon Martin. Oscar Grant. Michael Brown. Eric Garner. Sound familiar? These four men were all shot dead over the last few years because of the color of their skin. Their voices were silenced. Their voices weren’t considered important. Their voices were considered less worthy of attention and focus than their white assailants. Since their deaths, there have been attempts by the public and the media to paint some or all of them as “thugs” or “criminals” or some other such label that would somehow justify them being shot dead. As if it is somehow more socially acceptable to kill someone if they are a thug than it is if they aren’t. Their deaths have inspired protests and have also created the “Black Lives Matter” motto on social media.
More importantly, their deaths have sparked conversations all over the country about issues of race and racism. It has forced many white people to confront their own internal prejudices and biases toward their black brothers and sisters. It has also exposed the inherent racism that exists in our justice system as so far not a single indictment has come down for the white men who killed these black men.
Tomorrow, we celebrate Martin Luther King Jr. Day, a national holiday in which we are asked to remember the legacy of Dr. King, a man who worked so tirelessly for so long to help the Black voice be heard and be considered important. We are almost fifty years out from his assassination and it sadly doesn’t look like we are any closer to realizing his vision of living in a society where we really do believe that the black voice matters and shouldn’t be silenced.
It is absolutely vital that more white people speak up about this issue and stand in solidarity with their black brothers and sisters. Since we are the ones who perpetuate the racist system, we are also the ones who have the power to stop it. We can take action against the systems that perpetuate racism. We can stand up against racism and declare that the status quo isn’t benefiting all. We can even work to enact new laws that will ensure that our black brothers and sisters are given a more equal footing in society.
We can be the ones who demand that the black voices no longer be silenced. We can stand up and declare that the deaths of Trayvon, Eric, Oscar and Michael do matter and that their voices were silenced just like Onesimus’. We have to be the ones who demand that they be heard and that justice prevail. We can give Onesimus his voice back. We can demand that he be given a chance to speak his truth, his experience and his life. We can do the same for all the black people in our own lives whose voices have been silenced. I hear the cries of Trayvon & Michael and I hear the protests in places like Ferguson and New York City. As a white person, I admit my own complicity in the silencing of black voices and in the attempts to slander them and keep them oppressed.
So, I’ve identified the trouble with the text: the fact that Onesimus is silent. What about the grace then? What words of hope does this text have to say to a world troubled by Trayvon & Eric & Michael & Oscar? What does this text say to us that we can use to better engage with our black brothers and sisters and be a part of the solution, not the problem? It comes through Paul’s words that Onesimus was his beloved brother in Christ and thus Paul didn’t see him as a slave anymore. Through Christ Jesus, we are all united. We are Trayvon Martin. We are Eric Garner. We are Michael Brown & Oscar Grant and the many other nameless, faceless, silent black men who have been killed. This is the hope that white people can provide. A hope that one day, our system will support and uplift black bodies, not destroy them.
As Martin Luther King says, though, in his Letter From A Birmingham Jail, “Justice delayed is justice denied.” Thus, while we can provide hope, hope won’t be enough. While we continue to sit by and wait for a day when racism will end, more black people will die or be the victims of our racist policies. So, yes, hope is great but hope won’t prevent people like Michael Brown from being killed.
We have to be more than the hope then. We have to be the agents of change. Change is coming. You can’t stop the beat of history as it marches forward toward a new day. Let’s help make that new day today. Let’s be that change. Let’s be aware of our own privilege and use it to help, not hurt. Change won’t come about if we hope for it. We have to actively work for it, for the good of our black brothers and sisters. We have to fight for it, with them, not against them. It is up to us to begin the hard work of dismantling the systems of privilege that keep oppressing black people. It is up to us to vote for elected officials that will represent those voices that are silenced. It is up to us to stand up and speak out against racism in our culture and our world. It is up to us to do this hard and difficult yet necessary work. Onesimus won’t be kept silent anymore. Michael Brown won’t be kept silent anymore. Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin, Oscar Grant won’t be kept silent anymore. Their voices are rising up, out of the pages of history. Out of the pages of the Bible. Out of the pages that tell them that they should stay silent and stay oppressed. Do you hear that sound? That’s the sound of revolution. That’s the sound of their voices. That’s the sound of change. It’s coming. The only question that remains: are you going to join in or stay on the sidelines?
Thursday, January 1, 2015
A Year Without A White Man
I want to take some time to write to all of you about a project I took on this past year and the many ways it expanded my worldview. This past January 1, I decided to take on a rather unique and unusual reading project. I love to read. I've been a bookworm for as far back as I can remember. However, I haven't always done a good job of reading outside my comfort zone or reading about other cultures. Thus, I gave myself a challenge: that I would only read books written by non-white men. I did this partly because I think that white men have had enough of a voice in our culture and I wanted to give other voices a chance to speak up. I also did it as a way to confront my own internalized racism. I realized when deciding to begin this project that the vast majority of my own favorite authors or favorite books are written by white men. While I don't mean to denigrate or deny their own marvelous writing abilities, I was aware that I needed to branch out and read books by some non-white men. Instead, I focused exclusively on historically oppressed groups. I would like to add the caveat that I did still read books by white women. This was because I wanted to include all the various ways that women, even white ones, are still systemically oppressed in our society. However, of the 46 books I read this past year, the vast majority were written by people of color.
So, what did I learn from doing this project and how did it open my eyes? A big takeaway for me is just how institutionalized and systemic racism really is. Through reading books like Americanah (Chimamanda Adichie); Roots (Alex Haley) and 12 Years a Slave (Solomon Northrup), I was exposed to the ways in which my white culture has made racism a part of every system and how far back it really goes. I confess to having a much different view of slavery and even racism before hand. My history textbooks growing up gave the image that slavery wasn't as bad as it might have been portrayed. They portrayed the idea that most slaves preferred slavery over being free and were indeed happy with their lot. I realize now just how racist and awful an idea that is to even think but before reading Roots or 12 Years a Slave, it had never occurred to me to re-think this. As a white person, I've come to realize just how little I had actually ever thought about race mainly because it doesn't affect me. I even remember thinking to myself how this project sounded very racist to take on because isn't it racist against white people to not read them for an entire year? My whiteness protects me and gives me a level of privilege that people of color don't have access to no matter their financial resources or education or ability. The books I read this year helped me see just how hard it is to be a person of color in America.
Through reading 100 Years of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez); And the Mountains Echoed (Khaled Hosseini) and the House of the Spirits (Isabel Allende), I was exposed to what life is like for those who live in other countries. It gave me a new global perspective.
It also gave me the opportunity to finally read some books by authors who are well-established and critically acclaimed but who I had never read before for some reason. I finally had a chance to read Toni Morrison (The Bluest Eye, Beloved); Alice Walker (The Color Purple); Maya Angelou (I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings); Chinua Achebe (Things Fall Apart); Jhumpa Lahiri (The Namesake) and Ralph Ellison (Invisible Man). Somehow, I had never before read any of these authors and they completely expanded my reading abilities and my worldview.
What were the best books I read this year? I have to admit, not every book I read this year was that great. That's ok. I didn't go into this thinking they all would be. I knew there would be some books I'd read that would be less than awesome. However, there were definitely some that stood out to me as being excellent works. Redefining Realness by Janet Mock was an incredible book for me to read this year. Mock is an African-American transgender woman who writes about her experience growing up as a boy and then realizing that she was actually a woman and then deciding to go through with transitioning. It is a powerful story about what it is like to be transgender, black and a woman in the United States. Definitely highly recommended for anyone who wants to know more about that experience. The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri was a powerful story about the immigrant experience in America. Also highly recommended. I can't say enough good things about the Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie. He writes about his experience growing up as a Native American and choosing to attend school off of his reservation. A powerful look at how white culture has supplanted and made shameful Native American culture. I read two Khaled Hosseini novels this year (And the Mountains Echoed and A Thousand Splendid Suns). Both were great but incredibly devastating reads. He really paints a vivid picture of what Afghani life is like both pre and post Taliban. I can't stop thinking about The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende. Such a strong, vivid prose style that has stuck with me even now almost a year after reading it.
I had my eyes opened to the many ways that being a minority can be hard. It can feel shameful or lonely or isolating. It can even be dangerous. I won't say that I was completely unaware of this before but it became clearer to me through the works I read this past year. Some of these books were quite difficult to read and I had to force myself to get through them. Some of them contained extremely graphic sexual acts of violence, particularly against children. Not exactly pleasure reading. Some of them made me feel so incredibly ashamed of my whiteness and the fact that my ancestors did such terrible things to an entire group of people. Some even forced me to acknowledge my inner racism. That was the hardest part of this project: acknowledging that even as a somewhat enlightened, highly educated queer person that I am still guilty of racism in some ways. I still have racist thoughts or racist tendencies. I admit that. What this project did was bring them to light and help me be willing to acknowledge them to myself.
Now, that we've hit a new year, I've come to the end of my year long project. I'm looking forward to being able to read some Charles Dickens and John Green and Orson Scott Card again, three authors I had been particularly missing reading over the last year. However, I'm also going to be more intentional about seeking out and reading more books by people of color. I've got a good place to start after this past year with several authors that I really want to read more from. Perhaps I'll even be willing to admit some of them into my hard to crack list of favorite authors or favorite books! I'd encourage everyone to take on a project similar to this in your own lives. If you aren't a reader, maybe try it with something else you enjoy. Maybe only watch TV shows or movies starring or written by people of color? Perhaps only cook foods that are enjoyed in countries other than America? Travel someplace where you are likely to be the minority? Whatever you do, you owe it to yourself to do it. It will enrich your life in so many ways, I promise you. I can't believe I waited so long to discover so many of these authors but now that I have I'm very excited to see what else they have in store for me!
So, what did I learn from doing this project and how did it open my eyes? A big takeaway for me is just how institutionalized and systemic racism really is. Through reading books like Americanah (Chimamanda Adichie); Roots (Alex Haley) and 12 Years a Slave (Solomon Northrup), I was exposed to the ways in which my white culture has made racism a part of every system and how far back it really goes. I confess to having a much different view of slavery and even racism before hand. My history textbooks growing up gave the image that slavery wasn't as bad as it might have been portrayed. They portrayed the idea that most slaves preferred slavery over being free and were indeed happy with their lot. I realize now just how racist and awful an idea that is to even think but before reading Roots or 12 Years a Slave, it had never occurred to me to re-think this. As a white person, I've come to realize just how little I had actually ever thought about race mainly because it doesn't affect me. I even remember thinking to myself how this project sounded very racist to take on because isn't it racist against white people to not read them for an entire year? My whiteness protects me and gives me a level of privilege that people of color don't have access to no matter their financial resources or education or ability. The books I read this year helped me see just how hard it is to be a person of color in America.
Through reading 100 Years of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez); And the Mountains Echoed (Khaled Hosseini) and the House of the Spirits (Isabel Allende), I was exposed to what life is like for those who live in other countries. It gave me a new global perspective.
It also gave me the opportunity to finally read some books by authors who are well-established and critically acclaimed but who I had never read before for some reason. I finally had a chance to read Toni Morrison (The Bluest Eye, Beloved); Alice Walker (The Color Purple); Maya Angelou (I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings); Chinua Achebe (Things Fall Apart); Jhumpa Lahiri (The Namesake) and Ralph Ellison (Invisible Man). Somehow, I had never before read any of these authors and they completely expanded my reading abilities and my worldview.
What were the best books I read this year? I have to admit, not every book I read this year was that great. That's ok. I didn't go into this thinking they all would be. I knew there would be some books I'd read that would be less than awesome. However, there were definitely some that stood out to me as being excellent works. Redefining Realness by Janet Mock was an incredible book for me to read this year. Mock is an African-American transgender woman who writes about her experience growing up as a boy and then realizing that she was actually a woman and then deciding to go through with transitioning. It is a powerful story about what it is like to be transgender, black and a woman in the United States. Definitely highly recommended for anyone who wants to know more about that experience. The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri was a powerful story about the immigrant experience in America. Also highly recommended. I can't say enough good things about the Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie. He writes about his experience growing up as a Native American and choosing to attend school off of his reservation. A powerful look at how white culture has supplanted and made shameful Native American culture. I read two Khaled Hosseini novels this year (And the Mountains Echoed and A Thousand Splendid Suns). Both were great but incredibly devastating reads. He really paints a vivid picture of what Afghani life is like both pre and post Taliban. I can't stop thinking about The House of the Spirits by Isabel Allende. Such a strong, vivid prose style that has stuck with me even now almost a year after reading it.
I had my eyes opened to the many ways that being a minority can be hard. It can feel shameful or lonely or isolating. It can even be dangerous. I won't say that I was completely unaware of this before but it became clearer to me through the works I read this past year. Some of these books were quite difficult to read and I had to force myself to get through them. Some of them contained extremely graphic sexual acts of violence, particularly against children. Not exactly pleasure reading. Some of them made me feel so incredibly ashamed of my whiteness and the fact that my ancestors did such terrible things to an entire group of people. Some even forced me to acknowledge my inner racism. That was the hardest part of this project: acknowledging that even as a somewhat enlightened, highly educated queer person that I am still guilty of racism in some ways. I still have racist thoughts or racist tendencies. I admit that. What this project did was bring them to light and help me be willing to acknowledge them to myself.
Now, that we've hit a new year, I've come to the end of my year long project. I'm looking forward to being able to read some Charles Dickens and John Green and Orson Scott Card again, three authors I had been particularly missing reading over the last year. However, I'm also going to be more intentional about seeking out and reading more books by people of color. I've got a good place to start after this past year with several authors that I really want to read more from. Perhaps I'll even be willing to admit some of them into my hard to crack list of favorite authors or favorite books! I'd encourage everyone to take on a project similar to this in your own lives. If you aren't a reader, maybe try it with something else you enjoy. Maybe only watch TV shows or movies starring or written by people of color? Perhaps only cook foods that are enjoyed in countries other than America? Travel someplace where you are likely to be the minority? Whatever you do, you owe it to yourself to do it. It will enrich your life in so many ways, I promise you. I can't believe I waited so long to discover so many of these authors but now that I have I'm very excited to see what else they have in store for me!
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Counting Our (Un)Blessings!
I am participating in the UncoSynchro blog, a writing collaborative effort from #Unco14, focusing on subversive themes of faith and life. The theme for November is (Un)Gratitude. This is my first entry for the UncoSynchro blog, and I will participate monthly.
In this season of gratitude and a time in which we give thanks for all the good things in our lives, I think we too often don't acknowledge or hide the not-so-good things in our lives. We focus on all we have and conveniently (for one month at least) forget about all the things that aren't. In an attempt to change the conversation, this post represents my attempt to take stock of all the many things in my life and in the larger world that I am not grateful for. If you don't want to read about this topic and think that I'm being a terrible person or negative Nancy for even mentioning these things, that's fine. I invite you to move on and ignore this post. However, I think there are some of you who could use this and so I write this for all those who don't always want to be told to be grateful for what they have.
I'm Not Grateful: That I will be spending yet another holiday season without a special someone in my life. I mean, really? Again? Why do I seem to suck so much at this one particular aspect of my life? I'm thriving in all other areas of my life so why not this one? Does my special someone even exist? Am I a leper? Am I so completely undesirable that no one could even stand the thought of being with me for longer than two dates? I'm so over this dating game shenanigans. I'd love to just once have a special someone to spend the holidays with. This whole being single during the holidays thing is so over-rated.
I'm Not Grateful: That my dad died when I was 19 years old. He never got to see me become the amazing man I am now. He never got to see me mature or graduate from college. He will never get to be a part of my wedding day (if I do meet someone to marry). He will never meet any kids I someday have. I'm ungrateful that he had to die when I was still too young to really appreciate him fully. I really wish he were still here. I miss having a dad in my life. I miss having that special connection with someone who never let me forget that he loved me. I really wish I could call him up next week and wish him a Happy Thanksgiving. The fact that I can't ever do that again makes me really ungrateful and really angry.
I'm Not Grateful: That I never really knew my grandparents. I was a late in life child and my grandparents were pretty old when I came around and lived on the other end of the country. They all died when I was young. Thus, I never really got to have any type of significant relationship with them. I'm so jealous of my friends who have great relationships with their grandparents and can tell stories of summers spent with them and time spent learning from their wisdom. I never had that. I wish I had. I have almost no memory of any of my grandparents and that makes me very bitter and very ungrateful.
I'm Not Grateful: That there will still be hungry people on the day after Thanksgiving. Despite however many of us spend at least part of our Thanksgiving at a soup kitchen feeding the hungry, there will still be hungry people. Why? Our world produces enough food every single day for every single person on the planet to have more than enough food to eat every single day. So, why are there hungry people then? No one should have to go hungry, not in a world of plenty. I guess I just don't understand why we allow this system to continue. Maybe I'm just being naive but it seems like feeding everyone would benefit everyone. While you consume your pumpkin pie and your fifth piece of turkey this Thanksgiving, remember all those who would love just to have the crumbs off your pie.
I'm Not Grateful: That 40% of homeless youth are LGBTQ. Yes, really, 40% of the youth that are homeless consider themselves part of the LGBTQ alliance. Why isn't this addressed more? Don't get me wrong, it makes me so happy to see more and more states finally allow marriage equality but what about all the other issues that aren't about marriage equality but affect the LGBTQ community? I worked with homeless youth in Chicago. It was hard work. It's what inspired me to go to seminary. It made me angry that any of them were homeless. Let's address this issue NOW. Let's help get these youths off the streets and into some type of permanent housing situations. Let's work to keep them safe, find them jobs and help them with their bills so they can afford to stay off the streets. Most importantly, let's work to enact laws that will protect them from harassment. They deserve that.
I'm Not Grateful: That we still cannot seem to have a real, actual conversation about the horrible state of mental health care in our country. I thought and hoped that the death of Robin Williams might have finally been the impetus we needed to have a dialogue about the terrible state of our mental health care in this country. It doesn't seem to have done anything, though. We need to actually have a conversation and begin the process of doing something to address the very real issue of mental health. I say this as someone who deals with mental illness every day and would love to be able to get some better mental health care for myself and for all the others who need it so desperately. This is an issue that affects all of us and it needs to be addressed.
I'm Not Grateful: That we've had over 70 school shootings since Newtown, CT and yet we can't seem to get any sort of gun legislation passed. Our children are literally dying and yet we don't seem to care enough to do anything about it.
I'm Not Grateful: That we are all expected to be cheery and merry and full of joy during the holidays. Not all of us feel that way about the holidays. Many people dread them. Some just downright hate them. Yet, we are still expected to smile and put on a happy face and be cheerful even when all we want to do is cry and rant. Just let us have our time away from the holly and the jolly. And for the record, I love the holidays but I resent being told that I have to always be happy or jolly during them. Sometimes, I don't want to be and I want that choice to be respected.
I'm Not Grateful: That I spent so many years hiding who I really was from people and not allowing people to know the real me. My life has improved so much in the five years since coming out of the closet. I really wish I'd done it sooner. I feel like I missed out on so much by staying closeted for so long and that my friends didn't get to know the real me.
There's plenty more things that I'm ungrateful for but that seems to be enough for one post. What are some things you're ungrateful for this holiday season?
In this season of gratitude and a time in which we give thanks for all the good things in our lives, I think we too often don't acknowledge or hide the not-so-good things in our lives. We focus on all we have and conveniently (for one month at least) forget about all the things that aren't. In an attempt to change the conversation, this post represents my attempt to take stock of all the many things in my life and in the larger world that I am not grateful for. If you don't want to read about this topic and think that I'm being a terrible person or negative Nancy for even mentioning these things, that's fine. I invite you to move on and ignore this post. However, I think there are some of you who could use this and so I write this for all those who don't always want to be told to be grateful for what they have.
I'm Not Grateful: That I will be spending yet another holiday season without a special someone in my life. I mean, really? Again? Why do I seem to suck so much at this one particular aspect of my life? I'm thriving in all other areas of my life so why not this one? Does my special someone even exist? Am I a leper? Am I so completely undesirable that no one could even stand the thought of being with me for longer than two dates? I'm so over this dating game shenanigans. I'd love to just once have a special someone to spend the holidays with. This whole being single during the holidays thing is so over-rated.
I'm Not Grateful: That my dad died when I was 19 years old. He never got to see me become the amazing man I am now. He never got to see me mature or graduate from college. He will never get to be a part of my wedding day (if I do meet someone to marry). He will never meet any kids I someday have. I'm ungrateful that he had to die when I was still too young to really appreciate him fully. I really wish he were still here. I miss having a dad in my life. I miss having that special connection with someone who never let me forget that he loved me. I really wish I could call him up next week and wish him a Happy Thanksgiving. The fact that I can't ever do that again makes me really ungrateful and really angry.
I'm Not Grateful: That I never really knew my grandparents. I was a late in life child and my grandparents were pretty old when I came around and lived on the other end of the country. They all died when I was young. Thus, I never really got to have any type of significant relationship with them. I'm so jealous of my friends who have great relationships with their grandparents and can tell stories of summers spent with them and time spent learning from their wisdom. I never had that. I wish I had. I have almost no memory of any of my grandparents and that makes me very bitter and very ungrateful.
I'm Not Grateful: That there will still be hungry people on the day after Thanksgiving. Despite however many of us spend at least part of our Thanksgiving at a soup kitchen feeding the hungry, there will still be hungry people. Why? Our world produces enough food every single day for every single person on the planet to have more than enough food to eat every single day. So, why are there hungry people then? No one should have to go hungry, not in a world of plenty. I guess I just don't understand why we allow this system to continue. Maybe I'm just being naive but it seems like feeding everyone would benefit everyone. While you consume your pumpkin pie and your fifth piece of turkey this Thanksgiving, remember all those who would love just to have the crumbs off your pie.
I'm Not Grateful: That 40% of homeless youth are LGBTQ. Yes, really, 40% of the youth that are homeless consider themselves part of the LGBTQ alliance. Why isn't this addressed more? Don't get me wrong, it makes me so happy to see more and more states finally allow marriage equality but what about all the other issues that aren't about marriage equality but affect the LGBTQ community? I worked with homeless youth in Chicago. It was hard work. It's what inspired me to go to seminary. It made me angry that any of them were homeless. Let's address this issue NOW. Let's help get these youths off the streets and into some type of permanent housing situations. Let's work to keep them safe, find them jobs and help them with their bills so they can afford to stay off the streets. Most importantly, let's work to enact laws that will protect them from harassment. They deserve that.
I'm Not Grateful: That we still cannot seem to have a real, actual conversation about the horrible state of mental health care in our country. I thought and hoped that the death of Robin Williams might have finally been the impetus we needed to have a dialogue about the terrible state of our mental health care in this country. It doesn't seem to have done anything, though. We need to actually have a conversation and begin the process of doing something to address the very real issue of mental health. I say this as someone who deals with mental illness every day and would love to be able to get some better mental health care for myself and for all the others who need it so desperately. This is an issue that affects all of us and it needs to be addressed.
I'm Not Grateful: That we've had over 70 school shootings since Newtown, CT and yet we can't seem to get any sort of gun legislation passed. Our children are literally dying and yet we don't seem to care enough to do anything about it.
I'm Not Grateful: That we are all expected to be cheery and merry and full of joy during the holidays. Not all of us feel that way about the holidays. Many people dread them. Some just downright hate them. Yet, we are still expected to smile and put on a happy face and be cheerful even when all we want to do is cry and rant. Just let us have our time away from the holly and the jolly. And for the record, I love the holidays but I resent being told that I have to always be happy or jolly during them. Sometimes, I don't want to be and I want that choice to be respected.
I'm Not Grateful: That I spent so many years hiding who I really was from people and not allowing people to know the real me. My life has improved so much in the five years since coming out of the closet. I really wish I'd done it sooner. I feel like I missed out on so much by staying closeted for so long and that my friends didn't get to know the real me.
There's plenty more things that I'm ungrateful for but that seems to be enough for one post. What are some things you're ungrateful for this holiday season?
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