me

hello hello

2007-07-23T06:53:00.000-07:00

It sure has been awhile since I updated the ol' blog. Europe was fantastic, and I am so grateful I had the opportunity to go while I'm still young and irresponsible enough to enjoy it thoroughly. I learned and experienced a lot, and came back with an embarrassing number of awesome necklaces, a plethora of awkward and delightful stories, and over 1000 pictures. See a sampling at http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=0Act2zhk5ZsmL1o.

Now I'm home and it seems that I am leaving for Tanzania next week. Yikes. I vacillate between feeling nervous and excited. It's mostly nervous these days, although I am quite excited to be taking mefloquine, my anti-malarial drug of choice, again -- how exciting is it to take a medication with potential side effects like hallucinations and psychosis?!? I live on the edge.

In the meantime, I'm occupying myself with getting ready to go. I'm soaking up American pop culture like crazy and eating lots of cheese and white chocolate Reeses peanut butter cups. I'm scouring the racks of Goodwill and similar merchants for t-shirts and long skirts -- after attending my pre-departure orientation and assessing my wardrobe, I concluded that Tanzanians would probably agree with my parents that I dress like a whore, so my many lovely cleavage-baring tops will have to stay here. And I'm trying to spend time with people I care about, whether in person or over the phone (unfortunately, usually the latter with people other than my family since it seems most people aren't in Rochester this summer. Jerks). Anyway, my point is, if in my pre-trip panic I have failed to speak with you already, call me! Or email me and tell me when to call you! Because I like you and want to chat before I go!

travel updates

2007-06-16T01:30:00.000-07:00

hey everyone --

this is kind of belated but in case anyone is interested in europe updates, kelly and i are keeping a travel blog:

http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog/cjp/europe_2007/tpod.html

2007-04-27T13:02:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, at my weekly staff meeting, everyone was excited and unfocused as this is the last week of classes and it was our last meeting. I, on the other hand, had had a long stressful day and was quite tired. "Everyone is talking so loudly! And so damn fast! Slooow down!" I muttered.

Then I realized that that comment made me sound completely stoned. And so I started giggling uncontrollably.

And then my coworkers and boss lost all respect for me, the end.

I SWEAR I DON'T DO DRUGS.

hooray Ugandan rap music!

2007-04-11T14:41:00.000-07:00

Everyone, this is a short (like 5 minutes) documentary type video made about my friend Abramz. You should all watch it, because it's really awesome. Abramz is a Ugandan hip hop artist and breakdancer, and he teaches free breakdance classes to kids all over the country (in community centers, orphanages, IDP camps, etc) with the aim of empowering kiddos and building social cohesion. Check it out!!!

http://www.statemagazine.nl/forum.php/article?data%5Barticleid%5D=2394

creepy bill

2007-04-02T17:14:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I received the following creepy email:

Hi Christa:
Do you happen to know "Mo," a short, attractive female grad student in Georgetown's Latin American studies/spanish department who may also help teach ESL classes?
If so, could I trouble you to mention that Bill (who she met at length last night near DuPont Circle) would like to get back in touch with her?
Thanks much!
Regards,
Bill

This email is creepy on so many levels.
1. Say I did know this "Mo." How exactly would the conversation in which I passed on this message proceed?
2. How did Creepy Bill talk with Mo "at length," in what was clearly a meaningful enough conversation that he was willing to Google programs she may possibly be involved in and email their contact people, but he failed to get her real name or phone number at the time?
3. Creepy Bill now knows my full name, my email address, where I go to school, and what types of activities I'm involved in. I, on the other hand, know nothing about him except his first name, as the email address he sent the message from seems to be made expressly for this purpose (the last name given is "Whomever"). And of course that he is creepy.

eww.

life update

2007-03-21T20:01:00.000-07:00

I will be:

-- Writing 60+ pages of papers between now and the end of April.

-- Bumming around western/southern Europe with my sister from May 22-June 27. Tentative itinerary: Dublin, Belfast, London, Athens, Rome, Venice, Nice, Paris, Barcelona.

-- In Tanzania for the fall semester, taking classes at the University of Dar Es Salaam and hopefully doing some independent research on . . . something.

-- Graduating from college (!!) exactly fourteen months from last Friday.

Life is good. Except for unexplainable digestive maladies. Even so, life is good.

two interesting articles on general perceptions of africa

2007-02-22T17:16:00.000-07:00

Below are two articles on the subject of American views of Africa that I found very interesting. Enjoy . . .

The Misrepresentation of Africa (http://www.pambazuka.org/en/category/comment/39756)

How to Write About Africa (http://www.granta.com/extracts/2615)

The Misrepresentation of Africa
by Selome Araya (2007-02-14)

Ask anyone what they think of “Africa” and you may receive a response related to poverty, AIDS, hunger, ‘tribalism’ or animals. Trails of pity might linger in their words as a hint of disgust shimmers in their eyes. They may give an example of how they helped to “Save Darfur” or dreamed of adopting an “African orphan”. Most likely the view of the continent is that it is not a continent at all, but one large country, where everyone speaks the same language, eats the same food, wears the same type of clothing, and creates the same type of art. Yes, in their eyes, “Africa” is a homogeneous place of simple people with simple activities.

But, for someone who has never been to the continent, can they be blamed for this ignorance? The media and “humanitarian” agencies do an incredible job of misrepresenting the birth of civilization and projecting it as a down-trodden place of mishaps and has-beens. A place of disease, poverty, and chaos, and a place devoid of any history or future. Even today, it is still depicted as “The Dark Continent”, with dark tales of gore and war. And it’s not just the media. So-called “experts”, practitioners, and scholars perpetuate these stereotypes to no end, continually feeding the misrepresentation engine.

This cynicism is not to be taken lightly. “Africa” has been placed at the bottom of every pole on the international scale. It is deemed as possibly one of the worst regions on earth, and this notion is perpetuated continually with images and language, misinformation and racism, and media blitz and negative attention. Very few media outlets provide their viewers and readers with positive information about the plethora of countries and events occurring on the continent. For that would be mundane and not “sexy”. Yes, it seems that “Africa” is sexy these days. A crisis in “Africa” gets more response, more money, and more attention than a positive occurrence.

Granted, there are many issues affecting numerous countries in Africa. But I’m appalled at the fact that every time I hear of this place my family and ancestors call home, it is in a negative light, in a pitiful light, in a savagery light, in a deadly light. What I fail to understand is how all other elements of life are negated for the sake of a “good story” and a dramatic plea for funds. I have seen with my own eyes many elements of life that are beautiful beyond explanation, and I beg someone to explain to me why these elements aren’t projected.

Recently I was skimming Elle Magazine (yes, clearly not a place to be reporting on affairs of an international nature) and was deeply disturbed by the only two pages dedicated to “Africa”. The article disturbed me so much that I had to write a letter to the Editor expressing my utter disgust at their depiction. Africa was [mis] represented as a place where everyone is dying, has AIDS, or who is thirsty and hungry. There was no context provided, nor was there any balance that spoke of the positive elements of the continent. There was no mention of how people are responding to their own needs. All that was discussed were ways in which Europeans are “saving” this dreadful place from falling further into its cave of darkness. I couldn’t help but wonder how many readers of this pretentious high-fashion magazine walked away with a haunting perception of a place that they have never been to. If I were reading about “Africa” for the first time, I surely would think of it as a place that is just a hot mess of hell.

As a graduate student at Columbia University, where so-called “experts” teach aspiring public health students about “Africa”, I experience the same generalizations and stereotypes being perpetuated. These “experts” have dedicated their lives to joining the “saviour” movement that’s happening in certain circles of humanitarian assistance. And so, “women” are all victims and need outsiders to help them do everything. “Child soldiers” need to be rehabilitated by people from European countries. “Women and children” need outsiders to intervene and “save” them from the heathens that are the men in their lives. Everyone is dying of some disease. Every home seems to be in a dilapidated state with no food, water, or electricity. Almost everybody is in need of a program designed from abroad. People don’t know (or remember how) to grow their own food, so they need continual food aid packets dropped in their “communities”. And everyone belongs to a “culture” and has traditional ways that they live their lives, in their villages.

“Health” must be shaped from a Western point of view. It sickens me to hear how excited they become as they talk about the next country they are travelling to, to implement their pre-designed projects on people. They are the Lords of Poverty and aren’t even conscious of the stereotypes they carry with them as they lecture. And they’re producing an entire pedigree. Many of the students make drastic generalizations and proclamations about the countries they have lived in (for three months) and become self-proclaimed spokespersons for this region of the world.

There are also many campaigns today that continue to project negative perceptions of Africa onto the world. For people who have no exposure, direct contact, or knowledge of Africa, these campaigns are down right dangerous and counter-productive. Instead of “raising awareness” about important causes, they invoke pity for “the other” and perpetuate the concept that Africa is backwards and in need of saving. The campaigns I am referring to are the “I am African” campaign, the “Red” campaign from The Gap clothing company, and the numerous “Save Darfur” campaigns occurring in the world. As I walked down the streets of Manhattan today, I retained some of the advertisement for the “Red” campaign at the Gap. It pleads for people to help end AIDS in Africa and to save women and children from dying. Again, another universal representation of Africa for all of the Gap Corporation consumers. The millions of Gap Corporation consumers.

The “I am African” campaign is one that may have good intentions, but is grossly offensive and appalling. Appalling because an African woman is behind it, offensive because of the feathers, face paint, and European superstars posing as “Africans”. So now we have Gwyneth Paltrow with striped paint on her cheek, a plethora of jewellery on her neck, with the phrase “I am African” across her chest. I understand the point is to educate people on the AIDS crisis on the continent, but could it not have been done in a more respectful, tactful, and tasteful manner? But more importantly, what these campaigns do is make “AIDS in Africa” a commodity, something that is fashionable and marketable, and makes the only reference people have to the continent one that is linked to death and poor health. To have celebrities (who are not of African descent) say that they are “African” is to imply that since they are now “African” they also somehow have AIDS. It’s sending a message that being African is synonymous with AIDS.

International Non-Governmental Organizations who do business in “Africa” are no better. They spend much of their time and resources depicting the continent as a place that only they can “fix”, and spew out endless facts to justify their own causes. Yes, they are there to save the lowly Africans, and the more dramatic the picture or story, the more support they receive. And more importantly, the longer they stay in business. What people fail to understand is that, while it is imperative to raise awareness about the global poverty that is the reality for billions of people around the world, it is not helpful in the least to project an entire continent through a one-dimensional lens that is lined with despair and imbalance.

If people are going to campaign and discuss such despair, they need to provide context and background information, and underlying root causes of issues like AIDS and other poverty-related concerns. To simply present them independent of any other information is to represent people as helpless, hopeless victims who need saving. It is time for a change. It is time for “Africa” to be uplifted more often in the media. We need to hear more about the other dimensions of life for “Africans”; those that are not living in abject poverty and dying every second from whichever health concern is “hot” at the moment.

There’s music, there’s movement, there’s knowledge, there’s progress, there’s love, there’s tradition, there’s strength, there’s beauty, there’s nature, there’s power, there’s wealth, there’s health, there’s humanity, there’s history, there’s unity, there’s peace, there‘s LIFE. Sometimes, wouldn’t it be great to hear about these elements too? Because the “Africa” that I know is much more than death.

How to write about Africa (some tips: sunsets and starvation are good)
By Binyavanga Wainaina

Always use the word 'Africa' or 'Darkness' or 'Safari' in your title. Subtitles may include the words 'Zanzibar', 'Masai', 'Zulu', 'Zambezi', 'Congo', 'Nile', 'Big', 'Sky', 'Shadow', 'Drum', 'Sun' or 'Bygone'. Also useful are words such as 'Guerrillas', 'Timeless', 'Primordial' and 'Tribal'. Note that 'People' means Africans who are not black, while 'The People' means black Africans.

Never have a picture of a well-adjusted African on the cover of your book, or in it, unless that African has won the Nobel Prize. An AK-47, prominent ribs, naked breasts: use these. If you must include an African, make sure you get one in Masai or Zulu or Dogon dress.

In your text, treat Africa as if it were one country. It is hot and dusty with rolling grasslands and huge herds of animals and tall, thin people who are starving. Or it is hot and steamy with very short people who eat primates. Don't get bogged down with precise descriptions. Africa is big: fifty-four countries, 900 million people who are too busy starving and dying and warring and emigrating to read your book. The continent is full of deserts, jungles, highlands, savannahs and many other things, but your reader doesn't care about all that, so keep your descriptions romantic and evocative and unparticular.

Make sure you show how Africans have music and rhythm deep in their souls, and eat things no other humans eat. Do not mention rice and beef and wheat; monkey-brain is an African's cuisine of choice, along with goat, snake, worms and grubs and all manner of game meat. Make sure you show that you are able to eat such food without flinching, and describe how you learn to enjoy it—because you care.

Taboo subjects: ordinary domestic scenes, love between Africans (unless a death is involved), references to African writers or intellectuals, mention of school-going children who are not suffering from yaws or Ebola fever or female genital mutilation.

Throughout the book, adopt a sotto voice, in conspiracy with the reader, and a sad I-expected-so-much tone. Establish early on that your liberalism is impeccable, and mention near the beginning how much you love Africa, how you fell in love with the place and can't live without her. Africa is the only continent you can love—take advantage of this. If you are a man, thrust yourself into her warm virgin forests. If you are a woman, treat Africa as a man who wears a bush jacket and disappears off into the sunset. Africa is to be pitied, worshipped or dominated. Whichever angle you take, be sure to leave the strong impression that without your intervention and your important book, Africa is doomed.

Your African characters may include naked warriors, loyal servants, diviners and seers, ancient wise men living in hermitic splendour. Or corrupt politicians, inept polygamous travel-guides, and prostitutes you have slept with. The Loyal Servant always behaves like a seven-year-old and needs a firm hand; he is scared of snakes, good with children, and always involving you in his complex domestic dramas. The Ancient Wise Man always comes from a noble tribe (not the money-grubbing tribes like the Gikuyu, the Igbo or the Shona). He has rheumy eyes and is close to the Earth. The Modern African is a fat man who steals and works in the visa office, refusing to give work permits to qualified Westerners who really care about Africa. He is an enemy of development, always using his government job to make it difficult for pragmatic and good-hearted expats to set up NGOs or Legal Conservation Areas. Or he is an Oxford-educated intellectual turned serial-killing politician in a Savile Row suit. He is a cannibal who likes Cristal champagne, and his mother is a rich witch-doctor who really runs the country.

Among your characters you must always include The Starving African, who wanders the refugee camp nearly naked, and waits for the benevolence of the West. Her children have flies on their eyelids and pot bellies, and her breasts are flat and empty. She must look utterly helpless. She can have no past, no history; such diversions ruin the dramatic moment. Moans are good. She must never say anything about herself in the dialogue except to speak of her (unspeakable) suffering. Also be sure to include a warm and motherly woman who has a rolling laugh and who is concerned for your well-being. Just call her Mama. Her children are all delinquent. These characters should buzz around your main hero, making him look good. Your hero can teach them, bathe them, feed them; he carries lots of babies and has seen Death. Your hero is you (if reportage), or a beautiful, tragic international celebrity/aristocrat who now cares for animals (if fiction).

Bad Western characters may include children of Tory cabinet ministers, Afrikaners, employees of the World Bank. When talking about exploitation by foreigners mention the Chinese and Indian traders. Blame the West for Africa's situation. But do not be too specific.

Broad brushstrokes throughout are good. Avoid having the African characters laugh, or struggle to educate their kids, or just make do in mundane circumstances. Have them illuminate something about Europe or America in Africa. African characters should be colourful, exotic, larger than life—but empty inside, with no dialogue, no conflicts or resolutions in their stories, no depth or quirks to confuse the cause.

Describe, in detail, naked breasts (young, old, conservative, recently raped, big, small) or mutilated genitals, or enhanced genitals. Or any kind of genitals. And dead bodies. Or, better, naked dead bodies. And especially rotting naked dead bodies. Remember, any work you submit in which people look filthy and miserable will be referred to as the 'real Africa', and you want that on your dust jacket. Do not feel queasy about this: you are trying to help them to get aid from the West. The biggest taboo in writing about Africa is to describe or show dead or suffering white people.

Animals, on the other hand, must be treated as well rounded, complex characters. They speak (or grunt while tossing their manes proudly) and have names, ambitions and desires. They also have family values: see how lions teach their children? Elephants are caring, and are good feminists or dignified patriarchs. So are gorillas. Never, ever say anything negative about an elephant or a gorilla. Elephants may attack people's property, destroy their crops, and even kill them. Always take the side of the elephant. Big cats have public-school accents. Hyenas are fair game and have vaguely Middle Eastern accents. Any short Africans who live in the jungle or desert may be portrayed with good humour (unless they are in conflict with an elephant or chimpanzee or gorilla, in which case they are pure evil).

After celebrity activists and aid workers, conservationists are Africa's most important people. Do not offend them. You need them to invite you to their 30,000-acre game ranch or 'conservation area', and this is the only way you will get to interview the celebrity activist. Often a book cover with a heroic-looking conservationist on it works magic for sales. Anybody white, tanned and wearing khaki who once had a pet antelope or a farm is a conservationist, one who is preserving Africa's rich heritage. When interviewing him or her, do not ask how much funding they have; do not ask how much money they make off their game. Never ask how much they pay their employees.

Readers will be put off if you don't mention the light in Africa. And sunsets, the African sunset is a must. It is always big and red. There is always a big sky. Wide empty spaces and game are critical—Africa is the Land of Wide Empty Spaces. When writing about the plight of flora and fauna, make sure you mention that Africa is overpopulated. When your main character is in a desert or jungle living with indigenous peoples (anybody short) it is okay to mention that Africa has been severely depopulated by Aids and War (use caps).

You'll also need a nightclub called Tropicana, where mercenaries, evil nouveau riche Africans and prostitutes and guerrillas and expats hang out.

Always end your book with Nelson Mandela saying something about rainbows or renaissances. Because you care.

2007-02-05T21:06:00.000-07:00

So, I'm taking a women's self-defense class which started last week. The instructor is a petite, kind of awkward woman who says things like, "My specialty is groundfighting," which I found quite amusing even though I know it's an actual martial arts term. Here's what I learned on the first day of class:

-- You should establish a personal space boundary and be aware of it at all times.
-- Any time someone enters your boundary, assume a defensive position.
-- Anyone can attack you, even friends you've known for years. (But homeless people are especially dangerous.)
-- It's unsafe to listen to music while walking, even in the middle of the day.
-- Sometimes people take LSD in Dupont Circle and start hallucinating and stabbing random passersby.
-- How to break someone's nose with the palm of my hand.

The whole thing made me very uncomfortable, which I wasn't expecting. I think as a woman, particularly as a woman who lives in a big city but still frequently walks around alone at night, it's important for me to learn tools to protect myself. It's part of being independent and empowered and all that. At the same time, the thought of causing another person physical harm deeply disturbs me, as does the glee of the other students in the class at the thought of giving someone a concussion or smashing someone's nose. If I truly believe that violence is never an acceptable answer, if I am at all committed to the work of creating a peaceful world, why the hell am I choosing to study violence? I left oddly recommitted to vegetarianism. Maybe by the end of the course I'll be inspired to give up my beloved salmon and sushi.

In other news, yesterday I looked in a mirror and saw an adultish person looking back at me. I can't really explain it except to say that it was the first time I ever looked at myself and thought I looked even remotely like a grown-up. And it was completely out of the blue; I wasn't on my way to a business meeting, wearing a blazer, or anything like that. Holy hell, it was weird. Thankfully, next time I looked, the grown-up was gone, but I have a feeling she'll be back.

2007-01-28T22:19:00.000-07:00

I really really wish I could sum up my Uganda experience in a tidy blog entry, but unfortunately, I am pretty much incapable of explaining it at all at the moment. I first realized my dilemma on the morning I returned home. As I sat at my computer, jet-lagged and sick, my roommate first filled me in on all the latest news (Rob the Mormon has a girlfriend, apparently), then asked me a question: "Was Uganda really sad?"

At first, I thought of lively city streets splashed with bright colors and rhythmic music; of my creative, intelligent, funny, passionate new friends and of inside jokes and laughing so hard my tummy hurts; of what must be the most beautiful natural environment in the world; of fresh pineapple and mango and papaya; of rich and beautiful cultures; of friends trying to teach me Luo and Luganda phrases on the bus, and all of us (other passengers included) dissolving into laughter at my failed attempts to parrot back what they said; of animated conversations that move from Ugandan politics to American politics then back again; of enthuiastic kids laughing and dancing and singing with huge smiles on their faces.

"No, of course not!" I exclaimed.

And then I paused and started to think about round hungry bellies; and flies on little faces; and the matter-of-fact tellings of awful, heartbreaking stories of loss and pain and fear; and AIDS and malaria and broken arms that will never get set; and war affected children (nearly all the children in the north), kids to whom fear of death and abduction has been a part of everyday life for as long as they can remember; and road signs warning children not to play with landmines; and open sewers and trash everywhere.

And that's when I realized that I couldn't quite put into words this crazy duality. I hope someday I'll figure it out, but until then, I'm sure as hell going to keep trying.

2006-12-06T20:53:00.000-07:00

Dear friends, I have a confession to make.

Over Thanksgiving break, I went shopping with my mother. I found a pair of gauchos (you know, those super wide capri pants) on sale at Old Navy for $3.99. I don't really understand gauchos. I mean, what's the point of having that much fabric? But I tried them on anyways, and holy moly, they are the most comfortable pants ever in the history of the world. So I decided to buy them even though they look ridiculous, but only because I have some very very long plane rides in my future. I'll only wear them when I'm travelling, I thought, or maybe when I'm sick.

Haha. That was almost two weeks ago, and I've worn them almost every day since. Seriously, why would I wear anything else when I could be wearing soft, stretchy gaucho pants? Unfortunately, I cannot wear them to work, but when I get home in the evenings, on they go.

Speaking of work, Friday is my last day and I am super excited. I gave a tour of the Capitol last week to a family with a child who I'm pretty sure was the spawn of Satan. The boy was maybe 8 or 9 years old, and he was clearly displeased with his family's selection of DC as a family vacation destination. He walked about fifteen feet behind us the entire time, sobbing and rubbing his face. "Let's just keep going," his parents kept saying, "He'll catch up. He'll hurry when he can't see us anymore." Ummm, okay. When they tried to interest him by saying things like, "Look, doesn't this staircase look like it could be in Hogwarts!" he would just crying harder and start talking in a high pitched voice that I could not understand even if I had wanted to. It was quite awkward.

ways of seeing, by john berger

2006-11-12T09:35:00.000-07:00

This passage from my Intro to Culture and Politics reading kind of blew my mind. We had a long debate in class about whether or not we agree with it, but either way, it's thought provoking to say the least. It's a pretty bold claim -- what do you think?

From Ways of Seeing by John Berger, pg. 45:

According to usage and conventions which are at last being questioned but have by no means been overcome, the social presence of a woman is different in kind from that of a man. A man's presence is dependent upon the promise of power which he embodies. If the promise is large and credible, his presence is striking. If it is small or incredible, he is found to have little presence. The promised power may be moral, physical, tempermental, economic, social, sexual -- but its object is always exterior to the man. A man's presence suggests what he is capable of doing to you or for you. His presence may be fabricated, in the sense that he pretends to be capable of what he is not. But the pretence is always toward a power which he exercises on others.

By contrast, a woman's presence expresses her own attitude to herself, and defines what can and cannot be done to her. Her presence is manifest in her gestures, voice, opinions, expressions, clothes, chosen surroundings, taste -- indeed there is nothing she can do which does not contribute to her presence. Presence for a woman is so intrinsic to her person that men tend to think of it as an almost physical emanation, a kind of heat or smell or aura.

To be born a woman has been to be born, within an allotted and confined space, into the keeping of men. The social presence of women has developed as a result of their ingenuity in living under stuch tutelage within such a limited space. But this has been at the cost of a woman's self being split into two. A woman must continually watch herself. She is almost continually accompanied by her own image of herself. Whilst she is walking across a room or whilst she is weeping at the death of her father, she can scarcely avoid invisaging herself walking or weeping. From earliest childhood she has been taught and persuaded to survey herself continually.

And so she comes to consider the suveryor and the surveyed within her as the two consituent yet always distinct elements of her identity as a woman.

She has to survey everything she is and everything she does bcause how she appears to others, and ultimately how she appears to men, is of crucial importance for what is normally thought of as the success of her life. Her own sense of being in herself is supplanted by a sense of being appreciated as herself by another.

Men survey women before treating them. Consequently, how a woman appears to a man can determine how she will be treated. To acquire some control other this process, women must contain it and interiorize it. That part of a woman's self which is the surveyor treats the part which is the surveyed so as to demonstrate to others how her whole self would like to be treated. And this exemplary treatment of herself by herself constitutes her presence. Every woman's presence regulates what is and is not 'permissible' within her presence. Every one of her actions -- whatever its direct purpose or motivation -- is also read as an indication of how she would like to be treated. If a woman throws a glass on the floor, this is an example of how she treats her own emotion of anger and so of how she would wish it to be treated by others. If a man does the same, his action is only read as an expression of his anger. If a woman makes a good joke this is an example of how she treats the joker in herself and accordingly of how she as a joker-woman would like to be treated by others. Only a man can make a good joke for its own sake.

One might simplify this by saying: men act and women appear. Men look at women. Women watch themselves being looked at. This determines not only most relations betwen men and women but also the relation of women to themselves. The surveyor of woman in herself is male: the surveyed female. Thus she turnes herself into an object -- and most particularly an object of vision: a sight.

2006-09-06T20:27:00.001-07:00

I came across some notes today from when I heard Cornel West speak at Howard last spring. They excited me and inspired me all over again, so I thought I'd throw a few snippets up here (even though I should be reading about la protection sociale en France . . . oops). So here they are, straight from my notebook to you: "Now is the time for courage," April 23, 2006.

- "You can't love your neighbor if you don't hate injustice."
- examined life is painful -- we find we are "well adjusted to injustice"
- "What costs am I really willing to pay for a cause greater than my own egocentric predicament?"
- "don't become intoxicated w/ felicities of bourgeoise existence"
- we live in ice age -- fashionable to be indifferent to suffering of others
- intimate terms w/ death (physical & social) w/out allowing it to have the last word -- "civic death"
- American terrorism -- 9/11 was the first time white America felt insecure, unsafe, hated for who they are
- language of correction must be matched w/ language of compassion -- I bear some resonsibility (ex: inner city kids)
- "santa clausization" of those who fought for truth & justice -- smiley, accomodating
- quality of your service, depth of your love -- this is what matters

guess which bottle is mine!

2006-08-30T10:24:00.000-07:00

2006-07-06T13:57:00.000-07:00

As per Kelsey's BRILLIANT suggestion . . . here I am rescuing said baby (who does in fact live in Afghanistan) from terrorists.

2006-06-30T20:08:00.000-07:00

Ummm, guys? I may like babies now. Just a teeny bit. My mother took these pictures today and, well, they're a little disconcerting.

Oh well, I'm definitely saving these and the kitten rescue pics in case I change my mind about entering politics.

After Empire, by Sharon D. Welch

2006-06-28T18:15:00.000-07:00

I'm not done with this book yet, but before I leave for vacation I wanted to throw up this interesting quote:

What would it mean for political organizing if we began with the premise that our passion for justice is not our achievement, but a gift? What if we realized that caring about injustice is not the result of our astute sociopolitical analyses, our compassion, our courage, and our will but is, rather, the result of being loved, recognized, and seen by others? Longing for justice and mourning and raging in the face of injustice are the gift of the ancestors, the gift of "all our relations."
This recognition of our dependence calls us away from prophetic denunciations of other people's hard-heartedness and closed-mindedness. It calls us from any satisfaction in merely denouncing structures and peoples who exploit or ignore others. When we acknowledge the strength and dignity of others, when we empathize with the suffering of others, and when we cast our lot in acts of creating justice, our selves are enlarged by the blessings of openness, the blessings of an open heart, and the blessings of an enlivened imagination.

I met with my mom's boss for an hour yesterday -- he wanted to talk with me about my experiences at Georgetown this year and about my summer reading list. At the end, he started praising my mom and he said something to me that has been rolling around my mind for the past day: "Your mom is a peacemaker," he said to me. "I asked her once why she's able to work so well with so many different kinds of people, in so many different areas, and she said, 'It's because I don't have my own agenda. I leave my agenda at home so I'm able to work full time on yours."

Of course, there are values and goals that I want everything I do to reflect, broad ones like peace and justice and more narrow ones. But at the same time, even when I'm acting on those values, I have a personal agenda more often than I'd like to admit. How different would my life be if I were able to completely forget seeking my own agenda and focus instead on the agendas of the people around me?

The Unconquerable World, by Jonathan Schell

2006-06-16T06:58:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking again lately about some things that were on my mind earlier this year, things like the driving force behind political and social change (see a perfect storm, pts 1 and 2).

In my government classes, it's generally assumed that "power" corresponds directly with the ability to influence others through physical force. If we talk about some other type of power, it's usually qualified with an adjective, like "economic power" or "cultural power." (That's not to say those kinds of power aren't real. Of course they are. But I think to government scholars, "power" connotes force. Other types of power are usually covered in the last couple of wrap up lecture.)

In fact, physical force is pretty tied up in what we assume a state to be. In my comparative political systems class, for example, our working definition of a state was "an entity that holds a monopoly on physical violence within a given territory." (see Max Weber)

But I'm thinking more and more that that physical violence doesn't have all that much to do with power at all. Or at least, it can in the short run but never does in the long run.

My CPS TA used to argue that the reason we obey laws is basically because we're afraid of the police (that's overly simplified, but you get the idea). But there has to be more to it than that. Of course we know (or, even if this thought isn't present in peoples' minds in their day to day lives, we could figure out) that if no one obeyed the law, there isn't much that could be done about it. And people living under an unjust ruler can always find a new ruler, but a ruler can't exactly find a new society to govern.

So it seems to me that the real power is in the hands of a society taking collective action, whether that action is in support of a law or in opposition to it (and whether this power is used for good or for evil). With that in mind, the real challenge of a revolution isn't to overthrow the government, but rather to motivate the people to act collectively. Once that task is successfully accomplished, the revolution is basically over; the rest is just tying up loose ends. (Not that it's easy going at that point. But those who are desperately trying to maintain their power are only fighting the inevitable. They can't prevent what's already happening.)

Here's a great passage in The Unconquerable World about the American Revolution:

"[John] Adams described an event that for him was a true turning point in the revolution. The English crown had decided to pay the judges of the Massachusetts Supreme Court directly. The colonists were indignant, and, at the suggestion of John Adams, voted to impeach the judges in the Massachusetts House of Representatives. The crown ignored the impeachment. Then came the decisive step. Jurors unanimously refused to serve under the embattled judges. Adams . . . remarks, "The cool, calm, sedate intrepidity with which these honest freeholders went through this fiery trial filled my eyes and my heart. That was the revolution -- the decisive blow against England: In one word, the royal government was that moment laid prostrate in the dust, and has never since revived in substance."

I probably have more to say on this topic, but instead of adding more I'm going to go eat lunch and then make cream puff swans.

The Prophets, by Abraham Joshua Heschel

2006-05-26T19:29:00.000-07:00

For the longest time, my studies of the Bible have focused mainly on the New Testament. Maybe I dabbled in Genesis, Exodus, Psalms, and Proverbs a bit, but for most of my life I skipped the books in the middle with the funny names. I'm happy to have rediscovered the prophets not too long ago, because they are far too awesome to be ignored.

The thing I love best is their passion. In my mind, they are a perfect example of internalized pain. They felt fully the anger, betrayal, and suffering of both God and their people. Their messages were verbal, true, but also emotional. And they gave everything they had, their whole lives, to bear these messages.

Are there modern-day prophets? I think there are, but I don't think we're very good at listening. For one thing, I don't think our prophets are white, middle-aged, straight, rich, American men who hold so much cultural and political power -- which means their voices are quieter and we may have to seek them out instead of sitting back comfortably and listening. I'm not nearly as good at that yet as I want to be. I'm working on that.

A few excerpts from the book that I especially enjoyed:

The prophet disdains those for whom God’s presence is comfort and security; to him it is a challenge, an incessant demand. God is compassion, not compromise; justice, though not inclemency . . . The prophet’s word is a scream in the night. While the world is at ease and asleep, the prophet feels the blast from heaven. (pg 16)

The prophet is a lonely man. His standards are too high, his stature too great, and his concern too intense for other men to share. Living on the highest peak, he has no company except God. (pg 100)

The prophet's preoccupation with justice and righteousness has its roots in a powerful awareness of injustice. That justice is a good thing, a fine goal, even a supreme ideal, is commonly accepted. What is lacking is a sense of the monstrosity of injustice . . .
Justice is scarce, injustice exceedingly common. The concern for justice is delegated to the judges, as if it were a matter for professionals or specialists. But to do justice is what God demands of every man: it is the supreme commandment, and one that cannot be fulfilled vicariously.
Righteousness must dwell not only in the places where justice is judicially administered. There are many ways of evading the law and escaping the arm of justice. Only a few acts of violence are brought to the attention of the courts. As a rule, those who know how to exploit are endowed with the skill to justify their acts, while those who are easily exploited possess no skill in pleading their own cause. Those who neither exploit nor are exploited are ready to fight when their own interests are harmed; they will not be involved when not personally affected. Who shall plead for the helpless? Who shall prevent the epidemic of injustice that no court of justice is capable of stopping?
In a sense, the calling of the prophet may be described as that of an advocate or champion, speaking for those who are too weak to plead their own cause. Indeed, the major activity of the prophets was interference, remonstrating about wrongs inflicted on other people, meddling in affairs that were seemingly neither their concern nor their responsibility . . . The prophet is a person who is not tolerant of wrongs done to others, who resents other people's injuries. (pg 204)

There is an evil which most of us condone and are even guilty of: indifference to evil. We remain neutral, impartial, and not easily moved by the wrongs done to other people. Indifference to evil is more insidious than evil itself; it is more universal, more contagious, more dangerous. A silent justification, in makes possible an evil erupting as an exception becoming the rule and in turn being accepted . . .
The prophet is a person who suffers the harms done to others. Wherever a crime is committed, it is as if the prophet were the victim and the prey. The prophet's angry words cry. The wrath of God is a lamentation. All prophecy is one great exclamation: God is not indifferent to evil! He is always concerned, he is always personally affected by what man does to man. He is a God of pathos. This is one of the meanings of the anger of God: the end of indifference! (pg 284)

It is no mere listening to, and conveying of, a divine message which distinguishes his personal life. The prophet not only hears and apprehends the divine pathos; he is convulsed by it to the depths of his soul. His service of the divine word is not carried out through mental appropriation, but through the harmony of his being with its fundamental intention and emotional content . . .
The words of the prophet are often like thunder; they sound as if he were in a state of hysteria. But what appears to us as wild emotionalism must seem like restraint to him who has to convey the emotion of the Almighty in the feeble language of man. His sympathy is an overflow of powerful emotion which comes in response to what he sensed in divinity. For the only way to intuit a feeling is to feel it. One cannot have a merely intellectual awareness of a concrete suffering or pleasure. (pg 308)

one more When Jesus Came to Harvard exerpt, pg 275-278

2006-05-20T20:29:00.000-07:00

"The Protestant theologian Jurgen Moltman correctly notes that, for the Israelites, resurrection did not 'refer to everlasting life or happiness'; rather, it was 'a theological symbol to express faith in God's justice at the end of history . . . It was not a longing for life everlasting, but a thirst for justice." . . . This is why for centuries Christians have spoken of Easter as a 'second exodus.' The idea is that in the original liberation of Jesus from the grip of death, God inflicted a mortal wound not just on human mortality, but on the tyrannical forces that murder innocent people like him. . . . [God] raised an innocent man who had placed himself alongside the misfits and the outcasts of his day, who taught people to love their enemies, who boldly confronted the rapacious elite, and who was tortured and killed -- like so many others before and after him -- by a depraved system of law and order. Furthermore, he was murdered because of who he was and what he did and said. He died because of the way he lived.

"How Jesus died is also very important. In the bibical texts he is not just described as 'dead' but 'crucified.' There is a difference. To restore a dead person to life might be seen to strike a blow at mortality. But to restore a crucified man to life means to strike an equally decisive blow at the system that caused his wrongful death, and the death systems that continue to cause the suffering and fatality of millions in what the Latin American theologian Jon Sobrino calls 'a world of crosses.' The Resurrection story points not just to the ultimate victory of life over death, but of God's shalom over cruelty, greed, and atrocities."

excerpt from When Jesus Came to Harvard, pg. 213

2006-05-20T13:47:00.000-07:00

"The entry into Jerusalem was also a parable. It was a drama staged as street theater, and the message was clear for anyone to see. With consummate cheekiness, Jesus was announcing that the reign of God was beginning, and the clear implication was that the reign of Caesar would be drawing to a close. He did it by seizing upon a well-known Roman custom, the triumphal entry into a conquered city, adding some elements of a familiar messianic scenario, and then giving the whole thing his characteristic twist.

"The Romans had perfected the art of putting on dazzling and intimidating triumphal processions. The formula was carefully planned. First the new ruler of a vanquished city would march in on horseback accompanied by his troops, wagons loaded with booty and prisoners in chains. The parade would be welcomed by cheering crowds who were often routed out of their houses and herded to the street by Roman soldiers. There would then be speeches by the local elites, perhaps written by the Romans, welcoming the conquerors. Finally, the new ruler and his entourage would proceed to the local emple to offer a cultic sacrifice to whatever gods were honored there, and to the Roman deities who had made the conquest possible.

"Seen in the light of such a typical Roman military extravaganza, Jesus' entry was both a mockery and an insult, and it is impossible to believe that anyone misunderstood it. He was lampooning imperial authority by bouncing into town, not on a prancing horse -- the symbol of the warrior -- but on a donkey, the peasant's plodding beast of burden. He was not surrounded by armed legions, but by unarmed civilians, most of them pilgrims from his home province. He was welcomed, but not by crowds rousted out by the legions. The people who greeted him shouted an unambiguous political title. They called him Son of David, and therefore the legitimate heir to the throne that had ben established in that city five hundred years before. They waved royal palms, the equivalent of "Jesus for King" placards. He did then follow the established formula and proceed to the Temple, but it was to throw out the racketeers who had commandeered the animal sales and currency-exchange business.

"In addition to ridiculing a Roman triumphal entry, Jesus was also acting out a familiar Jewish scenario for the coming of God's deliverer . . . But with this flamboyant gesture, Jesus also did something else. He rewrote the messianic script. The standard expectation envisioned a Jewish liberator who would deliver his people from all foreign yoes, then live the enjoy the fruits of hi and his people's victory. Jesus, however, refused to use force, and knew by the time he rode into town that he was a dead man. Despite the royal palms, Jesus did not want to be king. He was announcing that God's kingmanship was beginning. But he also knew that neither the Romans nor their Jewish collaborators could close their eyes to this jeering barefaced threat to their dignity and their power. He was right, of course. His enemies were waiting for their moment."

When Jesus Came to Harvard, by Harvey Cox

2006-05-19T19:22:00.000-07:00

Jesus possessed a great force, the love force, but Christianity became disfigured when it went to the West. It became the religion of kings. -- Gandhi

Jesus lived and taught in opposition to the powers of his day, especially the Roman empire. So many of his parables contained subtle (or maybe not so subtle in their historical context) digs at the empire, things backwards or tipsy-turvy from what the empire taught and promoted.

So how did Christianity become the religion of empires, starting with Constantine? How did it become the religion of the oppressor, of the dominant, of the privileged? It's not really surprising that Christianity didn't appeal to Gandhi, even though Jesus' teachings definitely did; it was the religion of those who were oppressing his people, and it must have seemed so very different from what Jesus taught.

But Jesus has so much to offer the marginalized. He was a Jew living under the domination of the Roman Empire. He was a refugee in the early years of his life. He cared about people who were dismissed by the rest of society.

I love the story of Jesus healing the hemorrhaging woman. He was on his way to heal the daughter of a powerful man, but first, he healed this woman who was viewed as unclean by her society. She touched him and spoke to him, major taboos; but he blessed her anyways before continuing on to fix the rich kid. Really, just about everything Jesus did was a parable; street theater, if you will.

Shouldn't "powerful Christian" be an oxymoron? Maybe I'm being a little judgmental, but I just can't imagine Jesus ever seeking political or economic power in the way they're usually defined. He promised the poor and the weak a reversal of roles, so why would we ever want to be rich or powerful or strong?

And what does it change for us if Christianity started out as something so revolutionary but became the status quo?

warning

2006-05-19T19:10:00.000-07:00

I'm doing a lot of reading this summer, and I'm probably going to be posting some thoughts every once in a while as I read. I imagine these posts will be quite dull to most of you. I'm working temporarily at a booth at Sam's Club selling sunrooms (don't be jealous, now) and when well meaning Sam's Club employees make the mistake of asking me what I'm reading, their eyes start to glaze over after about 60 seconds.

Anyways, you don't need to read these posts (I won't quiz you or anything) and if I ever post an amusing anecdote again I'll put the title in caps or something. Probably there will be a lot of half finished thoughts and ideas that I should really just put in my personal journal, but I type way faster than I write so I'm putting them in the ol' blog. Consider yourself warned . . .

because i don't feel like studying international trade . . .

2006-05-03T19:23:00.000-07:00

There's a passage in the book I'm reading that I underlined and keep coming back to. It's from Democracy Matters, by Cornel West.

According to the scripture, since human beings cannot be divine - and often act quite devilishly - prophetic voices must remind Israel of what God requires of them: "To do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God" . . . Prophetic witness consists of human deeds of justice and kindness that attend to the unjust sources of human hurt and misery. It calls attention to the causes of unjustified suffering and unnecessary social misery and highlights personal and institutional evil, including the evil of being indifferent to personal and institutional evil. The especial aim of prophetic utterance is to shatter deliberate ignorance and willful blindness to the suffering of others and to expose the clever forms of evasion and escape we devise in order to hide and conceal injustice. The prophetic goal is to stir up in us the courage to care and empower us to change our lives and our historical circumstances. (pg 114)

And one more, just for fun:

I do not want to be numbered among those who sold their souls for a mess of pottage - who surrendered their democratic Christian identity for a comfortable place at the table of the American empire while, like Lazarus, the least of these cried out and I was too intoxicated with wordly power and might to hear, beckon, and heed their cries. To be a Christian is to live dangerously, honestly, freely - to step in the name of love as if you may land on nothing, yet to keep steppping because the something that sustains you no empire can give you and no empire can take away. (pg 172)

So there you have it.

By the way, friends, what should I do this summer? People keep asking me what my plans are and I feel like I should come up with some kind of answer. Ideally, my summer would look something like this:
a. Lots of time for reading and thinking. I have a huge reading list and would like to knock most of it out by fall.
b. Preferably, what I spend my day doing would complement what I'm reading and thinking about (think social justice, nonviolence, theology, etc). I'd love for my job to be a learning experience, not just a paycheck.
c. Speaking of paychecks, I would like one, but this isn't non-negotiable if I can convince my dad that whatever I'm doing is worthwhile enough to bump my monthly college money up by enough to make up for a lack of summer income.
d. Must be relatively Rochester based and require little to no planning ahead since the one thing I do have planned is flying in to Rochester next Thursday.

Any brilliant ideas? I'm probably going to end up volunteering somewhere part time . . . but I don't really know where. Help!

perfect storm pt. 2

2006-03-18T19:41:00.000-07:00

Today I went to my very first protest march. I've been to rallies before, but nothing with street marching and slogan yelling and sign waving like this one. It was an anti-war march marking the third anniversary of the start of the war in Iraq. We started outside the gates of Dick Cheney's house, then marched down Massachusetts Ave. to Dupont Circle, where there was a rally complete with speeches, guitar playing, and poetry.

I genuinely enjoyed myself. It was fun. I was with cool people who I got to know a little better and the speeches were interesting and there was an energy, a vitality, that was really great.

But as I was listening to the rally in Dupont Circle, I looked around at the crowd and thought, "They don't get it. This isn't it." And I thought, if this (movements and ideas like this) is what the Left is offering as an alternative to the rather militaristic and imperialistic vision that seems to have taken over the Right as of late, no wonder people feel confused and unsure where to dedicate their energy.

There was no talk of building a national or international community based on love and compassion. (And if hippie peace activists don't talk about that kind of thing, who will?) No talk of hope at all. Almost no talk of religion or spirituality. No vision of a world in which love becomes the central reality instead of fear of and power over others, in which individual lives have importance beyond dollar amounts and position. There was a Senate candidate there and I took a piece of his literature and looked it over, and he didn't talk about any of this either. I'm trying to put my finger on what the dominant emotion was exactly. Fear? (though not selfish fear, fear for the safety of others -- the speeches relied heavily on stories of bombings and tortures) Anger? Hurt?

All of these emotions are legitimate. None of them are wrong per se. One of the friends who was with me told me that the week we started bombing Iraq was by far the most emotional week of her life thus far, and I think that sense of sadness and horror and betrayal is felt by many of these activists.

But the bottom line is, we will never enlist the participation of the average American by yelling at them about how Bush is a murderer and the war in Iraq is racist and occupation and bombings and torture.

There were tons of people who drove past us in their cars who honked, waved, and gave us a thumbs up sign. What could be done differently to convince them that it's worth their time to park their cars and give up an hour or two of their Saturday to join us? Or, vastly more importantly, to join a much bigger movement for a different kind of world? Can protests ever be an effective way to mobilize people? Is it only that people don't respond to the current messaging of the anti-war movement (and the Left in general), or is our cultural viewpoint of protests such that we can't ever use them to get more people on board?

People are looking for something worth devoting their lives to. And I left feeling like this just isn't it. Not yet.

I also found myself wondering whether protests are really worthwhile at all. I believe in registering my dissent, in not sitting back and quietly accepting what authority figures dictate even if I doubt the possibility of changing the outcome at the present time. And I also believe in the power of nonviolent resistence to change outcomes in the future. But if I want to help create a society based on peace and love and justice, is a protest really the best way to do it? Is it right to march in a protest with my friends instead of doing something more concrete (and probably harder and less fun) to help my own community, which is affected by violence and poverty and racism too?

There's a huge homeless shelter in DC based on a principle called the Center for Creative Non-Violence. It was started by a group of students in the 1960s or 1970s who were antiwar activists, but wanted to do something in their own community to promote their values of peace and love. This is a quote from their website: "We realized that words without action are like flesh without bones: they simply will not stand up. So while we continued to talk of peace and oppose the war in Southeast Asia, we also began to make peace with our neighbors." (http://users.erols.com/ccnv/CCNVHistory.htm -- good stuff) I love that idea. Is this a better use of my time?

I also learned that peace activists are a huggy bunch. I usually find acquantaince hugs to be the epitome of awkwardness, but these felt kind of appropriate and nice. (And I was wearing a bra this time, which helps with the awkwardness.)

a perfect storm

2006-03-15T20:39:00.000-07:00

I've had one of those rare but wonderful couple of days when everything comes together and kind of makes sense, even if only for a little bit. I love that.

I'm currently reading The Left Hand of God, by Michael Lerner, and I was able to hear the author speak at a bookstore in town last night. Rabbi Lerner wanted to know why people vote for the Republican party even when it isn't in their economic best interest, so he interviewed a huge number of people to find the answer. People spend most of their time in the world of work, and there they are taught that their value comes from how much money they can make for the company and how much power they can amass, and they are taught to view other people this way, too, according to what they personally can gain from a relationship with a coworker. This attitude spills over into other personal relationships, too -- viewing other people selfishly, as commodities. But people want their lives to be about something more than money and power, they have a spiritual consciousness that they know isn't being met and they know they are more than what their daily lives now are about. So this is what's called the "spiritual crisis" in America.

The Republican party acknowledges this crisis, and people respond to this validation of the emptiness they feel. The problem is that the solution the Republican party offers is false -- they blame the problem on "demeaned others" like feminists, gays and lesbians, etc., and the economic solutions they offer only make the problem worse. But the Democratic party doesn't even acknowledge that a spiritual crisis exists and so they can't appeal to people feeling a deep sense of loss. People vote for Republicans, even when it hurts them economically (lower and middle class voters), because the Republicans are able to tell them why they feel the way they feel and that they're not alone.

According to Rabbi Lerner's interviews, most people want their lives to have a deeper meaning, beyond money and power; they feel a sense of spiritual deprivation but want to move towards greater consciousness. But most people keep these feelings secret because they are afraid that they are the only ones who feels this way. He says we need to start "coming out of the spiritual closet."

Yesterday in my theology class, we were talking about Catholic encyclicals or something like that, and my professor, a Jesuit who's very concerned with social justice and fairly politically liberal, sighed and lamented the fact that there's no current social movement with as much moral clarity as the civil rights movement of the 1960s. He said he wants to get more involved, he wants to be more active, if there was something that was clearly right and just, he would, but . . .

In my government class, we're studying the Iranian Revolution of 1979. The relevant piece is that the revolution only took off when people started to see it as viable. People's decisions to get involved were based on conversations with their fellow citizens. When they realized their friends and neighbors also felt dissatisfied with the regime and were going to join the revolution, they decided to get involved, too. The revolution became more and more viable as people perceived it to be more and more viable.

At a Sojourners worship service tonight, Jim Wallis talked about how in his view we're close to a tipping point in American society -- he doesn't know exactly how close, but we're getting closer all the time. In his view, people are looking for something worthy of their energy. People want to join movements that are big and important, but they don't know exactly where to turn. He said that the greatest problem among young people isn't exhaustion, it's apathy, and I think that apathy comes from confusion about how and where to work for social change effectively.

So, people are hungry for lives of meaning, and are even willing to sacrifice their economic well being in an attempt to achieve that. (I know that isn't necessarily true of everyone, but according to Rabbi Lerner, it's true of almost everyone he interviewed in his study. Interestingly, according to him, people who do seek after financial gain do so in an attempt to compensate for sacrificing their lives in pursuit of something they don't really believe in -- if they're living meaningless lives, they'd better at least get paid well for it.) People are searching for meaning for their lives, but they don't know how to live lives of meaning and they think they are alone in this desire so are too afraid to actively seek this kind of life -- they think it's just not an option in America today. People don't see a big, important movement that they can be part of. What we need to do is become "spiritual pioneers" in this kind of movement because once people see something they can be passionate about, something worth devoting their lives to, a way to help create a world of love and hope, once they come to believe this is really possible and see momentum towards this goal, I really believe that they will want to join in.

I think overall this will require realizing that individual causes and movements are part of one bigger movement -- progressive politics will always be confusing and disjointed until this happens. And it will require giving up on being realistic, because I think we really limit ourselves by playing strictly by the rules of a capitalistic consumeristic game when in reality, it turns out people want a far deeper conversation than what is strictly in their self interest. And I think we need to start viewing everyone as either an ally or a potential future ally. Jim Wallis, talking about the Religious Right and people like Jerry Falwell, said, "We don't want to defeat them, we want to get them involved in a broader agenda."

So how to do this? I don't really know yet. Unfortunately, that wasn't part of my big intersection of ideas over the past two days. But I have 2.25 more years here to figure it all out, I suppose. And then the rest of my life . . .

This whole things was really boring/confusing/obvious/weird to anyone who isn't me. Sorry about that. If anyone is still reading, you deserve a prize for your brave journey through my jumbled thought process. I'm due for another blog entry in about six weeks -- maybe I'll come up with a funny anecdote by then!

P.S. If anyone actually did read this, and read something they thought was weird or offensive or anything like that . . . oops. It's possibly my actual thoughts and possibly just my poor articulation of my thoughts, partially due to the fact that I'm too lazy to reread before hitting "publish." Ask for clarification, please. Let's discuss.

P.P.S. I think the DC metro smells like liquor and hotdogs.

happy birthday, dear dr. martin luther king jr.

2006-01-16T20:46:00.000-07:00

I believe that as a society, we have neutered the message of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. We have turned it into something easy to swallow now that segregation is illegal and institutionalized racism seems to be a thing of the past. However, to limit his message to what he said on race relations would be a serious disservice to Dr. King.

He was also staunchly anti-war, saying:

Nonviolence is the answer to the crucial political and moral questions of our time; the need for mankind to overcome oppression and violence without resorting to oppression and violence. Mankind must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression, and retaliation.

While we remember that he criticized those who fought violently for racial equality (like Malcolm X and the like), we forget that he spoke out against all kinds of violence, including the war in Vietnam.

Dr. King also had a lot to say about poverty, such as:

The curse of poverty has no justification in our age. It is socially as cruel and blind as the practice of cannibalism at the dawn of civilization, when men ate each other because they had not yet learned to take food from the soil or to consume the abundant animal life around them. The time has come for us to civilize ourselves by the total, direct and immediate abolition of poverty.

This part of his message is also almost totally ignored.

If Dr. King had not been assassinated when he was, I kind of doubt that he would be as popular a figure as he is today. The reason is that the aspects of his message that would be controversial today are far easier to ignore since he isn't alive now to comment on the continued presence of these problems in our society. I think Martin Luther King Day has become a day simply to pat ourselves on the back and congratulate ourselves for ending segregation, maybe throw in a trite statement about how we still have a long way to go or something along those lines. The accomplishments of the civil rights movement in the 1960s are certainly worth celebrating, but it makes me sad to see the many other thoughtful and relevent things Dr. King would have to say about our society ignored in favor of what I fear has become a meaningless self congratulatory holiday.

So those are my Martin Luther King Day reflections. The event at the Kennedy Center today was really awesome. If you have any interest in seeing it, it can be found online at http://www.kennedy-center.org/programs/millennium/archive.html#. We sang two songs at the beginning of the program and three at the very end. It was a great event and so much fun to sing at, but it's just starting to hit me now that it's really over and that makes me kind of sad.