Category Archives: resistance

Returning to the Scene

Who woulda’ thunk it? Thirty-two years after after I graduated from Columbia I have been invited back to read from my memoir and talk about my experiences there.

I have mixed feelings about it. The strongest feeling I have is gratitude. Never would I have thought this day would arrive. What a graceful moment to come full circle and return to a campus where once I was a stranger in a strange land, an unwelcome alien, and a proverbial thorn in the side of this august institution. I am grateful not only to be welcomed and given a voice but I am also grateful (and astounded!) to see the course  ‘Ministry With LGBTQIA Youth’ offered.

But to be completely honest, the other thing I am feeling is anger. Now we all know that anger is often a ‘leading emotion’ that conceals or protects us from the underlying and original emotion. So if I follow that thread I must confess that my anger is trying to  protect me from hurt. So there you have it. The hurt is old. It is the hurt of being silenced and demeaned. It is the hurt of being dismissed. Hated. Feared. It is the hurt of being wide open and vulnerable to Godde and having those in power abusing that vulnerability.

I met a few weeks ago with a wonderful woman from Columbia who invited me to be a part of this event. She is ordained. And a lesbian. And open. All in the Presbyterian Church (USA). After a long, truthful, and profoundly intimate conversation she asked me what I would like from Columbia. It surprised me when I teared up and said  “I just want someone to say ‘I’m sorry’. ” Funny that.

This Wednesday I am invited to be a part of worship and to share my story. To talk about my journey at the institution I both love and hate. I have come to believe that giving me a voice may be the most profound apology I could be offered.

 

The Book, the Party, the People

It was a wonderful night!
Thank you to all who came out to celebrate with me!
Thank you to all who were there in spirit!

After eight (count ’em) years of working on my memoir it is time to celebrate!
So bring on the music – O Happy Day, Sing Lo-Sing O Sophia, and Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me ‘Round, sung and led by three talented singers and a phenomenal pianist.  We celebrated diversity and connectivity.  Being interviewed by Imam Trina Jackson was enlightening and fun. (I love her so much!)
Celebrating at my alma mater, Agnes Scott, brought special joy, as did working with Tina Pippin (Religious Studies) and Kate Colussey-Estes (chaplain of the college). The college has come so far since I was there with their now profound commitment to diversity and inclusion!

And then there were all the friends who provided the ‘pot luck’ reception of extremely excellent food- both savory and sweet. And those who stayed to party.

After two weeks of wrestling a severe case of the flu topped by bronchitis I was able to step out and share stories of blessing and struggle. What was profound was the gathering of people who care, the sharing of food and life, and the hope for the future as people continue to stand against all that dehumanizes in the name of Godde.

Tiny Hands Are The Least of His Problems

I looked for images with the quote “Trump’s Tiny Heart” not really expecting to find anything. Figured I’d just use a picture of a very, very small heart. Guess what? There is nothing new under the sun. Trump’s minuscule heart is the object of art and essay, protest and punditry.

Babies in cages. ‘Nice’ Nazi’s. And now, the inability to be gracious at the death of a man who served this country with honor.

Now y’all know I am not a Republican, but my dad was and he was cut from the same cloth as McCain: opinions held with integrity, open to vigorous debate, and never a question that the good of the country supersedes personal interests. And vigorous debates we had. I disagreed with Sen. McCain about many policy issues but, unlike the current president, it never occurred to me that he was motivated by self-interest or that he might be the patsy of a hostile nation. Even my staunchly Republican dad grieved the assassination of President Kennedy and honored his service to the nation. Folks, that should be the NORM not the exception.

And now Tiny Heart is too self concerned to show the minimal respect of flying the White House flag at half mast. It is a smallness of heart I can’t even fathom. A sickness of mind with no awareness of anything other than the room he is in. Everything that happens in the world is a preposition followed by “me”. To Trump things are either done for, through, over, under, against or to him. (yes, there are more on the list and they also apply). There is no good cure for this world view and the sycophants in the White House, House, and Senate only reenforce it. It makes me afraid that our government is filled with a majority of people suffering from the same affliction.

During the campaign Trump feared that references to the size of his hands maligned the size of his dick. Now we know that no matter how small his dick is he put it plenty of places  disdaining his commitments to his many wives. Should we worry about that? Maybe. But not nearly so much as we should be repelled by his small, small heart. His refusal to fly the flag at half mast because McCain stood up to him politically reveals what we all know: that he has no clue of or commitment to the ideals we try to live up to. More than that, he has no idea of the value of McCain’s life and service lived with more integrity and greater heart than to which Trump could ever aspire.

 

50 Days of Work to Do!!!!!

Midterm elections are in less than 50 days.
The Georgia gubernatorial election is in less than 50 days.

GET ON BOARD! Find your candidate. If you live in Georgia we can make history when we elect  Stacey Abrams to be our next governor!

For change to be made there is work to be done.
Are you an extrovert? Then find your candidate and sign up to knock on doors. It is the hard work of making change.
Are you an introvert? Then sign up to write postcards, make phone calls, do data entry, raise funds. It’s the grunt work that needs to be done to make change.

And whether you are an extrovert, an introvert, skilled or unskilled, well-off or struggling, make a donation. Your $5 or $50 or $500 gives you a stake in the outcome and an investment in the future.

The time is NOW to contact the campaign office of your candidate, to be boots on the ground, to ‘chop wood and carry water’. None of us is required to do some big thing but all of us must do something. We can’t afford to act as if politics is a spectator sport.

Yes. Your vote absolutely counts. At the very, very least commit to vote. But if the direction of this nation terrifies you, then act like it. Do what you can. Now and on election day.
Do you need a ride to the polls? let someone know.
Can you give a ride to the polls? let the campaign know.
Are Georgians going to need to rally to take African-American voters to the polls in Randolph county? Keep your ear to the ground and be ready to spend the day giving rides.

Stay informed. VOTE. Vote early. Do the work. If not now, it may be never.

 

 

How to Talk to Trump Supporters

Impossible task?
Unwanted engagement?
Scary threat?
Lost cause?
All of the above?

Another question we need to ask “is how do we survive if we don’t learn how to talk to one another?”.  Have we become so deeply divided we can’t even acknowledge one another’s humanity?”  Hatred must be resisted:
the hatred of women
of queers
of people of color
of immigrants
of change.
And we must resist our own hatred of those who wish for our demise.

Let’s start with recognizing that hatred is a ‘leading’ emotion of a much more vulnerable emotion of fear that is more difficult to tolerate. The question then becomes not ‘how do we challenge/fight their (and our own) hatred? but ‘how do we speak to their fears?’.

To answer this question means that we must, as Michelle reminded us, go high. We have have to be the better person in the conversation. We need to challenge and live with our own fears and find some small, even minuscule, ground on which to stand that opens us to compassion for the other.

I hear you screaming. We, too, are afraid. We, too, are angry about the disintegration of our national moral fiber, broken ideals, and trashed social advances. Why do we fricking have to be the better person? The answer is simple: because we can. And if we can, then it is our task and our call, to move our conversations about justice and change forward. We do this because we’re the ones for whom it matters. And hating the haters won’t get us there.

What gets us there is mending the fabric of society. Are you afraid you’ll lose your job? So are we. Are you afraid for your safety? So are we. To make it through, we must make it through together. So let’s not talk about programs, let’s talk about a human response to our shared concerns. Use our words to connect rather than disconnect.

The other night I heard a really good talk by Drew Westen, a preeminent doctor of psychology at Emory who wrote the book, The Political Brain.
https://www.amazon.com/Political-Brain-Emotion-Deciding-Nation/dp/1586485733

And while I won’t quote him here, his works speaks profoundly to the issue before us. So read it, please. But at least learn how to speak to another’s fear. If people are, indeed, wired differently- and early evidence points that way- then we must speak their language. Republicans have intently worked on messaging in a way that plays to fear in how they label and refer to different policies and people. It’s time for us to find words that reach across that created divide. 

For example, if the term ‘Obamacare’ is used to play to people’s racism and fears of government intrusion then let’s not use it. Or ACA or anything that doesn’t lend itself to emotional responses. The suggestion Westen used was to say instead, ‘A family doctor for every family’.

It is time to think about how we can talk with our fellow citizens rather than participating in the divide that might surely destroy us. Go high. Even when it’s the hardest thing you have ever had to do.

 

Silenced by a Lie

I heard yesterday that I am “just an angry lesbian.”
It takes only one phrase,
uttered by those in charge of writing history,
to erase the reality of those not in power.

This is not a new thought.
Oppressed people
know who writes history
and it is not them.
It had never been so personal before.

If I were writing my history
this is the story I would tell:
Godde called me to ministry.
I had to figure out what it meant.
I went to seminary with the intention of being
authentic
open
vulnerable
and willing to engage in difficult, often hurtful conversations.
I made that choice
It came with a great price.
I got to experience personal rejection
even hate
and ignorance in the name of God
that daily crushed my spirit.

And yet I believed
I had the strength to engage
To stay.
To listen.
To retain my integrity.
So I did.
And I thank Godde for sustaining me in that time.

I didn’t realize that
years later
my witness would be silenced
by a lie.

Pick One Thing

I had breakfast this week with an activist from Indivisible-Georgia that I have long admired.  We crossed paths many times since the election but never had the opportunity to sit down together. I am so glad we made the time because I came away a little more hopeful and a lot more invigorated. My take away was simple and it is important because I believe it can stop us from giving into hopelessness and keep us  from being overwhelmed by the magnitude of the shit storm we are living under.

If you are like me, you want to do it all. After the daily bombardment of news that makes my skin crawl, my heart ache, and my anger boil, I want to march, to protest, to write letters, to register voters, to work against gerrymandering, to work against voter suppression, to work with great organizations like Black Lives Matter and the Women’s March, the ACLU, and the Democratic Party. I am ready to get things done but the amount that needs to be done and the odds we are up against can suck the hope out of me.

So I walked away from our breakfast thinking, “I need to get the word out” because  so many of us are battle weary. So many of us teeter on the edge of being hopeless. WE CANNOT AFFORD TO STOP, GIVE UP, OR GIVE IN.

So how do we deal with the fatigue of engaging the nightmare of our current political situation? DO ONE THING. Pick one thing and go all in. Pick one action, commit to one issue and give it your time and attention and energy. Trust that others are doing the same with other issues about which you care. But do your one thing. As much as you can as best you can.  That’s how we’re going to get this done.

Absolutes Suck

Okay people, I’m about to go on a rant. As a feminist I would like to introduce you to the concept that two seemingly opposing ideas can both be true or right or correct.  Take a breath. I know it’s difficult to give into the idea that you are not absolutely right.

I want to add to that that one can be passionate about what they believe to be ‘right’ and still hold room for other views. For example: straws. I am part of the ‘let’s do away with them’ club. They multiply. They infest our landfills and more importantly, our oceans. They threaten  and kill wildlife. Straws are a bane to our society and we should make way for alternatives. So yay, Starbucks!!!

I refuse straws when eating out and if they bring me one already in my drink (because I didn’t anticipate it- learning curve!) I bring it home and cut it into small pieces. I have my own straw. It is a pyrex straw that I clean every day. It is one of the small acts I do to make a small difference, to begin the change. And though I no longer buy canned drinks with plastic rings, but when I did, I made sure to cut them up so they would not choke dolphins or constrain turtles.

Everyone should stop using straws! Now! the future of the earth depends on it!

… Well, except… there are people with disabilities who clearly NEED straws to survive. That is if we consider the ability to eat and drink survival. Which I do. So is there room in my passion and my ‘rightness’ for understanding that my ‘universal’ has exceptions? I really hope so. Because I have friends with disabilities for whom I would also make a stand for their continued ability to use straws.

Is this really so hard? Can two things that seem to be contraindicated both be true? If  you can’t answer ‘yes’ to that question, you may need to look more closely at your belief system. My hunch is that if you don’t  it will tie you up into bitter knots.

And here’s my final shot at ‘absolutes’. They keep us from being reasonable, compassionate people. Whether we are talking about legal absolutes, moral absolutes, political absolutes, or theological absolutes.
What I get when I hear someone propounding an absolute is that I am in danger.

Being the First


Remember all those jokes that went around that began “This is what people think I do” followed by either glorified or belittling pictures – or both – and then the punch line, “this is what I really do”?  Well, that’s kind of what being ‘the first’ is like.

I was the first open lesbian student at Agnes Scott College in the late 70’s and the first open lesbian student at Columbia Theological Seminary in the early 80’s. A few people thought I was a warrior. Believe me, I wanted to be one. If I could have channeled Xena I would have been one happy woman. But I discovered not all warriors are Xena, some are just emboldened believers who are willing to make the grueling march through enemy territory. And the thing is, as a warrior, you really aren’t at your best when you are alone. It really does help to  have an army beside you. Being ‘the first’ is lonely.  But many saw me as a strong warrior like the woman pictured above.

Then there were the majority who saw me as a destructive force that threatened to shatter institutions and bring down civilization. I am glad to report I did neither of these things. Sometimes I wish I had, but I didn’t. I had no interest in destroying institutions only in changing them and challenging beliefs, privilege, and systems of power.  I did that every day, sometimes by my mere presence, but with nowhere near the force or power that some assumed I possessed. 

What I really did was show up every day and try to be my best, most authentic self.  I didn’t always succeed, but mostly. Being the first means you probably won’t get where you want to go. It means you are plowing the field for someone else to sow and harvest. It means clearing a way so that those who you follow will be able to push even farther into the uncharted territory. Being the first is lonely and sometimes forgotten work.

That doesn’t mean it is not important work. It has taken me decades to realize that being the first was enough for me and right for the time. It was a challenge I accepted and a grace I assumed. But really, being the first looks much more like this than what others imagined:

The really cool thing is that now I am telling the story of what it was like to be ‘the first’ from my perspective. My memoir, A Gracious Heresy: the Queer Calling of an Unlikely Prophet, is coming out soon. Stay tuned.

Remember the Revolution!

This 4th of July many of us may be wondering what it is we are celebrating. Here are some things to remember when we kick back with a plate of ribs and a bottle of beer:

  • There is a difference between nationalism and patriotism. I will never stop loving the radical principles upon which we are founded. For all our many flaws, the idea of the rule of law and our ever-expanding understanding of who is included in the call to liberty and equality remain a beacon as we move toward the future.
  • We can be better than this. We have faced our demons before. We can do it again. May we never stop for there have always been demons in human history.
  • The clarion call to a continued and new revolution has been sounded. It is sounded in every generation and it is once again for the current generation to resist authoritarianism, autocracy, and fascism. A tall order, but one we cannot refuse.

So this 4th, after the cook-out, after the fireworks, after the bands march down Main Street playing John Philip Sousa, RISE UP.  Be ready to do the seemingly small tasks. Speak up. Stand up. Call. Write. March. VOTE. Organize. Be involved. The revolution we celebrate cannot, must not,  die with us. If it does it will be to our great shame.

It is easy, if we are too cushioned in our privilege, to ignore the urgency each day brings to people of color, immigrants, women, children, elders, queers of all stripes, the poor, and the disenfranchised. We have ancestors that supported the British and we have neighbors and family that support the current administration. It is time to choose the side of history on which you stand.

So this 4th celebrate the revolution that began this nation and celebrate that we are joined together, standing against unbelievable odds, in this revolution. Don’t give up. We’ve done it before. We can do it again.

HAPPY 4TH!!!