Category: Culture

Posted on

The Journey Toward Justice

For a journey of the heart, it matters what I use as my guiding star.

My heart journey began when I woke up and realized that my perspective and worldview was too small and limited. I wanted to find a way to expand the boundaries of my heart and life, to live as one member of a global family on our shared earthly home.

There was no need for this sort of journey when I believed what the culture told me—that we were already a nation of freedom and justice for all. So much of the culture was set up to distract me, especially as one with more cultural access and power, to keep me from noticing the injustice and inequities at the heart of my nation.

I began my heart’s journey, a journey toward justice, by first waking up to the world as it was, contradictory with its glorious beauty and soaring vision alongside its profound injustice and disrespect directed at certain groups of people.

Once I woke up, I saw brokenness all over the place: our treatment of the earth; our power and access inequities based on race, class, gender, age, sexual orientation, sexual identity, homeland or legal status. Many of these have hundreds or thousands of years of inequity behind them, but all are still riddled with injustice today.

Part of me is a fighter. Since I was a child, I’ve believed that the direct path is best and most efficient. Therefore, when I saw something wrong, I wanted to call it out and fix it.

There are compelling and very logical reasons to begin by fighting injustice head on. Once the cultural blinders have fallen away, injustice screams to be transformed from many directions at once. The need for immediate change feels urgent.

However, even stronger than the fighter within me was a longing for metanoia—a transformative change of heart. This required me to shift my orientation, both a spiritual and how-I-orient-in-the-world turning. To use metanoia, rather than fighting, my guiding star required that I begin my journey toward justice “outside the distress of oppression.”*

Those words—know myself outside the distress of oppression—are like a koan meant to shock me into a whole new way of seeing.

When the oppression, both within me and in the world around me, is so overwhelming and so flesh-and-blood real, why would I choose to begin outside of it? When the wrongs are so obvious (once I saw them), why would I choose not to directly fight the wrong and liberate the right?

And how can I, with all of my first-world, white skinned, wealthy, traditionally educated privilege, call myself oppressed?

The culture I was born into was complex and sophisticated. Its values were both honorable and grand (visions I love like freedom and inalienable rights, for example) as well as greedy and power-hungry (legal and tax bias toward corporations and people who are wealthy, or acting as if black lives aren’t as valuable as white lives, for example). I was schooled in these values in my public education, laws, popular novels, churches, playgrounds, advertisements, institutions and traditions. They seeped into my brain—as internalized oppression, prejudice against certain people, and a bias toward the status quo.

For me, I’ve struggled with the oppression of sexism (primarily internalized and directed against me) and with the oppression of a skewed world view that gave access and privilege to me—calling it normal and earned—while keeping me tragically blind to the inequity behind it all.

When I tried to stand within the mess of oppressor/oppressed, my sight was limited by the dichotomy, and I wanted to fight. Unfortunately, when I tried to fight the oppression I saw around me without simultaneously noticing and moving to transform the injustices in my own conscious and unconscious beliefs and behaviors, I kept slipping into the very injustice I was fighting to change.

But this journey isn’t only toward expanded sight and understanding. While metanoia is a transformation of the heart and Spirit—an internal realignment—unless stunted, it will naturally continue to unfold into a life that participates in the transformation of society.

That brings me back to “knowing myself outside the distress of oppression.” Who am I, who are you, who are we, outside the distress of oppression?  What is it that interferes with each of us and keeps us from living from the fullness and uniqueness that is our birth right?

For me, orienting myself outside the distress of oppression has been the most demanding journey of my life. Stepping outside the oppressor/oppressed dichotomy requires that I take responsibility for myself and continually align my beliefs and actions with my values of justice, love and equity. Self-knowledge and self-responsibility are the keys to both personal metanoia as well as sustainable social change. I need to act with integrity, no matter what injustice I am experiencing. Change is possible in any moment, but it requires someone (like me) to act, respectfully and honestly, and thus open up a space that opens the possibility for justice to emerge, moment by moment.

I have patterns, mostly unconscious, that still emerge from time to time. I get uncomfortable or scared and go silent. I don’t like sitting in my own fear and project it onto others. These behaviors tend to show up when I am tired, irritated or feel like someone is treating me unjustly. For me, stress is the doorway through which my old habits and unconscious beliefs tend to emerge.

But that is very dangerous. Most fracturing of relationships and partnerships, especially across cultural differences, happen in moments of stress or conflict. If I don’t learn how to change my behavior and thinking at the roots—seek metanoia—stressful times will continue to be moments when I am not able to sustain my values and respectful behavior. Instead of being part of the healing, I will participate in the brokenness.

My journey toward justice requires me to keep metanoia as my guiding north star. Only then can I keep my sight free and flexible enough to focus outside the distress of oppression. I walk on this journey with many friends and partners, mutually taking time to lovingly but firmly support each other as we navigate the path of justice. There is no need for shame as together we know we are on a journey of learning and alignment.

But even when my friends are not around, I am not alone. Spirit is always present. The natural world opens her arms to me. I am part of the human family. In addition, this journey has led me into a powerful, healing relationship to the diversity that is within me. Demanding as this journey has been, following metanoia as my guiding star is leading me on a joyful journey home.

 

*This is the first step of Be Present Inc.’s Be Present Empowerment Model.

Posted on

Homegrown Terrorism is the Battle Cry for Repentance

Illustration by Khara Scott-Bey

More Americans have been killed in the US by white male citizens, often white supremacists, than by any other domestic or foreign group.1 Well-armed with guns and hatred of Jews, Blacks and Muslims, these white Americans fight to regain a white and “christian”2 nation.

It is accurate to say that our country was founded on white, male, wealthy, “christian” supremacy. While that foundation still has a strong foothold on almost every aspect of our culture, it is predicted that by mid-century, white skinned people will be in the minority in the US.

I can’t pretend that I am totally separate from these white extremists. They have lit their torches illuminating the fact that our country has long been dominated by whiteness and anti-Semitism. This same system has opened doors for me all my life, as it did for my ancestors. The natural consequence of generation after generation of exclusion has erupted today as hatred directed at non-white and non-Christian people.

My grandfather was an attorney who believed in justice. Yet, in a letter to his fiancé (my grandmother) written in 1923, he spoke about one of the best speeches he’d ever heard: “This Col. Simmons of the KKK made a talk [at the Texas Capitol] to 20,000 people. He has a wonderful personality and is a good speaker. I wonder if you have joined the Klan? Or the Order of Camelia, I should have said.” Years later, my grandfather publically supported the first black female attorney’s nomination to the Wichita Falls, TX bar association. And I loved him.3

In Big Topics at Midnight, I wrote a chapter titled “Did My People Survive Slavery?” After listening to a Sweet Honey in the Rock’s song “I Remember, I Believe,” where black women asked that questions about their own ancestors, it struck me that the same query applied to my ancestors, and I asked myself: What was the moral legacy of families like mine who owned slaves and were moved by a KKK speech?

Unfortunately, we are living that legacy now.

This legacy came through families like mine and through the larger cultural family of Euro-Americans. Unnoticed without confession or repentance, the moral flaws of yesterday erupt now in the growing movement of white supremacists, our nation’s homegrown terrorists.  A terrorist is defined as “a person who uses unlawful violence and intimidation, especially against civilians, in the pursuit of political aims.” Our focus on foreign terrorists is merely a distraction to the real terrorists within.

The signs of this ingrained white supremacy is fully visible for anyone who cares to notice. Can you imagine if the August 11 march on the University of Virginia campus—complete with lit torches, armed men and hateful rhetoric targeted at specific groups—had been as assembly of black skinned rather than white skinned men? Or Jewish? Or Muslim? Can you imagine the uproar if President Obama, a black skinned man, had spoken and acted as disrespectfully as white skinned President Trump has consistently done? Can you imagine what the law enforcement response would have been if the armed men who took over the Malheur Wildlife Refuge in Oregon had been black skinned? Or Jewish? Or Muslim?

Our national law enforcement and public sentiment response would NOT have been the same.

I’ve spent years unmasking the tendrils of white supremacy that have been part of my nation and my family and my life. Denying that, or white-washing it as merely a historical problem or an isolated issue of extremists, is to personally participate in the movement for white supremacy.

The cry of my heart is directed at others like me—white skinned and Christian. The legacy of racism, patriarchy and religious intolerance that was one part of our nation’s founding is threatening to destroy us all. While we are not responsible for actions of our ancestors, we are living in the toxic legacy of the moral disconnect between values and actions that worked their way into our institutions and systems. We—you and me—are fully responsible for how we live today.

Being quiet and disconnected is no longer an option.

My prayer is that our nation is going through the last gasp of what has been and is still a dangerous and hateful legacy. For that to be true, however, all of us need to step up and embody justice for all. Each in our unique way.

The steps forward to constructive change are ancient and outlined in many of our faith traditions: open your eyes and heart to see; confess where you as an individual and where you as part of the national collective have participated in injustice and inequity; repent—a transformative change of heart; and then take action that flows from your new, wide-open heart.

Our nation’s racism and anti-Semitism runs deep. The call of my heart to our beloved nation is to wake up and repent, remembering these self-evident truths: that all are created equal; that all are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of a union with the good spirit (named as “happiness”).

1 Article  with links to more primary sources

2 A side note: I can’t help putting christian (with a little c) in quotes. There is no relationship between the heart of Christianity and white supremacy’s christianity. Unfortunately, far too much of CHRISTIANITY as a institutional church has become infected by the sin of white supremacy and anti-Semitism. Likewise, it is also true that white-skinned people and male people have too often been culturally infected by a sense of power-over superiority inherent in racism and patriarchy (among other things), and perhaps should also be noted with quotation marks. This cultural sin has a wide and deep legacy.

3 Individuals (such as my grandfather) like nations are complex and paradoxical, full of wisdom and generosity and prejudice and hatred. I am hopeful that seeing our own shadow will give us greater compassion as we support each other on the journey back to the just and equitable essence that is our birth right. We need each other as we unhook from the toxic parts of our national legacy.

Posted on

Memorials

People keep coming, bringing flowers, candles, notes, posters, photographs. Silent. Some sitting in the grass around the central of several the ever-growing altars. Some with their backs to the flowers and candles, turning instead to the chalk-covered wall of words. Others picking up pieces of chalk and adding their words to the “wall” that begins on the sidewalk near the street, past the gym that lines the Hollywood Transit Center, up the ramp walls and continues on the bridge to the steps down to the light rail Max stop. Others heading to catch the train, looking down and reading the words on the overpass under their feet.

I’ve seen little public altars before. They dot the highways with their white crosses, plastic flowers and little mementoes of lives cut suddenly short.

These spontaneous memorials are powerful altars. They hold so much: grief, an awareness of the beauty of life and the reality of death, memories, regrets, sadness, gratitude for gifts given long ago, lament, cries of the heart.

I have an altar at home. A multi-colored cloth spread over a small table in my office is set with a candle, a stick of incense, symbols of my faith, items of beauty that have meaning for me and symbols of people I love and am praying for. The items change as life moves on, but the altar remains.

Public and private altars are sacred places to sit with the huge mysteries of life and death, sacred and horrific. They help us stop and not rush through our feelings, giving grief and hope a chance to rest in our hearts and bones for a while.

There is talk that the Portland transit system will erect a permanent memorial here. The heartfelt impulse is beautiful, but that sort of official altar is more complicated.

Why a memorial here, and not at other places of death and heroism? Are some deaths more worth marking in public than others? Are some acts of heroism bigger than others? Is the undercurrent of cultural racism, ethnic bias or sexism within our culture influencing the decision of who/what gets honored?

These questions are too often unasked when our public hearts are broken and we want to “do something.” But they are questions that need to be asked as we as a nation seek to transform the very divisions that were at the heart of the tragedy that exploded at the Hollywood Transit Center. Sustainable and equitable partnership across our differences is the memorial I seek.

Posted on

Nothing Lasts Forever

 

Nothing lasts forever;

No one lives forever.

Keep that in mind, and love.*

These words have danced through my head all spring. For the last few months, almost a dozen friends and family have experienced a traumatic, life changing event. Sometimes resulting in death, but more often in an event that will change them forever. Even after “normal” life returns.

Friday afternoon, just as I was finishing a support group call with friends, police car after police car streaked down the street in front of my home. It was an hour before I knew what had happened. During what most expected to be a routine light rail trip home before a holiday week end, a white man began yelling hateful things to two Muslim young women. Three men stepped in to try to deescalate the situation. The ranting man pulled out a knife and killed two of the men and injured the third.

A Memorial Day holiday that, for two families, began with death, for one family, began with a hospitalization, and for all the rest unfortunate enough to have been in that light rail car, began with witnessing hatred and death and compassion.

I too will die one day. Maybe today. All that I think of as essential parts of my life will one day pass, maybe in the blink of an eye.

Tagore reminds me that I must keep that reality in mind, and still love.

Love. Open my heart again and again. Knowing that nothing last forever.

This is at the heart of my spiritual path, the container that holds my whole life and death (both the daily little deaths and, one day, my physical death). I have many freedoms and choice in my life, but I am not charge of everything life brings to me. Life and death have their own rhythm and power, in my life and in all of nature. Birth, life, death and rebirth are all part of the natural cycle of life.

How we live matters. How we die matters. How we savor life and then, when it is time, release life, matters. For me, life invites me to live fully—savoring the gifts that surround me—and to die open-heartedly—surrendering to the big divine love in every moment.

The Rule of St. Benedict admonishes, “Keep death before you daily.” Know that only by fully accepting death can we fully accept life.

In our death-phobic culture, remembering our death and honoring the transitory nature of life seems crazy. In reality, it is the only way.

*Illustration by Khara Scott-Bey. Poem by Rabindranath Tagore

This blog is dedicated to the three who bravely stepped forward Friday in an attempt to bring peace to a violent moment— Micah David-Cole Fletcher, Ricky John Best and Taliesin Myrddin Namkai Meche (The latter two died in the process). And to all my friends, and yours, whose life in these past few months has taken them to places they never would have chosen. And to my mother, Mary Sue Tipps Mathys, on this eve of what would have been her 91 birthday. Thirty years after her death, I still feel Mom’s presence and guidance.

 

 

Posted on

Transformation and Newton’s First Law

I’ve spent many years barreling along in very predictable ways. One of my life-long habits exhausts me more than the others: Without thinking, in the span of one afternoon, I nag Laura to track her spending, strongly suggest to Howard that our condo board hurry to place a lien on a past-due condo, and email a friend to suggest that she look at a situation in her life from a specific perspective that makes sense to me.

It’s exhausting to try to keep tabs on so many people, and I am tired of being so disrespectful to others in the guise of helping. (Obviously I want to continue to be present to others in ways that are indeed helpful, but micromanaging other’s lives has a totally different feel to it.)

It all comes down to making the choice to step out of my usual rut of telling people what I think they should do and then choosing not to mettle in their business. Problem is, I have to do that over and over again within the span of each day.

It feels like a huge leap to imagine relating in a new, less controlling way on a regular basis. Am I up to making such a drastic change? What if 62 years of habit it too strong to turn away from?

Churning, I brewed a second cup of tea and sat down to talk to Howard, my engineering husband.

That is where Newton’s first law of motion entered the conversation. Newton, Howard explained, said that an object—me—has a natural tendency to continue to do what I am doing—resisting change in my state of motion…

…unless acted upon by a force.

In other words, by habit I am sailing along with ease, navigating life in the speed and direction I’ve always been going. Little effort is required to steer. However, when I want to make a course correction, something bold is required of me.

It’s possible, but dangerous and difficult, to try to make a sudden course correction. Turning while going full speed ahead usually results in either a crash or seriously overshooting my goal.

Its far easier to make this course correction by slowing down first. Slowing down means opening up the moment that got me to the point where I am tempted to react out of my old rutted ways. What was happening inside me just before the sparks started flying? How about the moment just before that? The earlier I can slow myself down, the easier it is to access my intuition and spirit, make choices to overcome the momentum, and make a choice to step outside of my old course. This would allow me to make a fresh and new choice more in line with my values.

Changing course mid-stream is only half the battle, as Newton’s law is also in effect when I am at rest, docked at the shore. At that point, there is great inertia that must be overcome in order to get me to move at all. I know the stuck feeling of sitting in meetings, knowing that something is happening, in me or in the room, that feels off, knowing that I should ask a question or share my perspective. Too often the inertia is strong, and I remain silent.  There are lots of reasons for my inertia—I don’t want to slow down the meeting, I’m timid around a particular person, I fear I would be a pain in the butt to voice the question, or I don’t want to speak when I am confused rather than fully clear.

All those are real feelings. They are inner voices and fears to notice, but not always to direct my behavior. I need to reach down deep inside me to find the spirit force that remembers the responsibility of my partnership in the task at hand, take the risk, and respectfully speak.

I need to make these course corrections personally, for sure. But this moment in our nation’s history where we are so deeply divided and confused, the momentum behind our nation’s ship is powerful in places where we are barreling along full-speed ahead like we’ve done for generations or mired in the muck unable to move at all in places where she is stuck.  Everyone is needed at this moment in our nation’s history—all hands-on deck so to speak—ready to step out in new and life-giving ways. In our personal lives (we need to start there/a great practice place) and in our public lives, this requires us all to slow down and respectfully take risks that make the choice for love, justice and equity for everyone and all of creation. Each day.

Sometimes a good engineer, with a little help from Newton, is the best spiritual director.

Posted on

Wail after Bombing

The US just bombed Syria. The latest in a long string of military strikes using violence to fight violence to bring “justice.” We keep trying the same solution seeking a different result.

No wonder I kept crawling back into bed yesterday. I am in grief about the latest actions of the homeland I love.

I don’t yet know the rest of the hidden story about circumstances that led to this attack on Syria, but I can’t help noticing that the US has angered Russia at the very moment our current administration is under investigation about Russian involvement in our presidential election. If my hunch turns out to be correct, it wouldn’t be the first time that a US President turned to war to distract us from a problem here at home. Bill Clinton and LB Johnson come to mind.

Sometimes we step into military action based on lies. Vietnam, for example. While running for office on a platform of being aggressive and restrained at the same time, Johnson needed a national security risk to justify military action in Vietnam. This risk came in the form of unprovoked North Vietnamese PT boat attacks on two US ships.

In response, Johnson said, “Yet our response, for the present, will be limited and fitting. We Americans know, although others appear to forget, the risks of spreading conflict. We still seek no wider war…but it is my considered conviction, shared throughout your Government, that firmness in the right is indispensable today for peace; that firmness will always be measured. Its mission is peace.”¹

It turned out, however, that the first attack was provoked. Johnson admitted privately that we had been carrying out “some covert operations in that area” like “blowing up some bridges and things of that kind, roads, so forth. So I imagine they wanted to put a stop to it.”² The second attack, however, the one used to justify a US military response, never happened. It was completely fabricated.

Then we had the Iraq War of 2003. The truth was obvious to many prior to our invasion, and the facts have since become public.

Cuba was a different issue. The US almost stepped into a nuclear war during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. Russia, a Cuban ally, tried to secretly deploy nuclear weapons to Cuba. Horrified that nuclear weapons were so close to US shores, Kennedy’s secret White House audio tape recorded him saying, “It’s just as if we suddenly began to put a major number of MRBMs [Medium Range Ballistic Missiles] in Turkey. Now that’d be goddam dangerous.”³ Problem was, that was exactly what we had done, despite prior assurances to Russia that we would not install missiles in next to their borders. Both US and Russia’s actions were dangerous.

There is more to the story of many US wars than reached our press—North Korea, Russia, Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan. In addition to military action, we’ve also played a role in helping to topple democratically elected presidents in Iran, Belgian Congo and Guatemala. And don’t forget our land theft through lies and war with the Indigenous Native American People.

We Americans have steadfastly been unwilling to look at the shadow side of our nation’s history. We cling for dear life to the pure image of the US as a beacon for democracy seeking justice for everyone. There is some truth in that image, but our actions fall short of our vision.

The more we prop up the image of a blameless US, the more we continue to project our evil onto other countries.

There is another option. Ironically, addressing these international crises must begin with me. And you.

I’ve always known that there was a direct relationship between the personal and the global. We can’t fight against war between nations when a war rages within us. Personal wars spill out in disrespectful and arrogant behavior with people in our homes, with other drivers on our roads, within our communities. Fighting violence with violence, popular as it is, will only lead to more violence.

This is not a time where we can lazily believe the “official American story.” I uncovered the truth hidden in the version of history I’d learned in school when writing Big Topics at Midnight: A Texas Girl Wakes Up to Race, Class Gender and Herself. Getting accurate information wasn’t difficult, and didn’t require too much digging. I learned a bit more history this week reading Dorothie and Martin Hellman’s A New Map for Relationships: Creating True Love At Home & Peace On The Planet. Most of the examples and quotes in this blog are from the Hellmans’ book, but this information is easily found elsewhere. We just have to be willing to see.

“Let there be peace on Earth, and let it begin with me,” may sound like a flaky sentiment too weak to resolve global conflicts. And it is, if we think finding peace within ourselves and our communities is about thinking sweet thoughts and being nice. The open-hearted, compassionate but fierce love required to honestly look at ALL of ourselves—the beauty and gifts as well as the narrow-minded and short-sighted assumptions—can pave the way for us to wake up and realign with our personal and national vision. For us as individuals. For communities. And for all of creation.

Grief must be part of the process. Grief right in the middle of our grief-phobic culture. We’ve tried to step over heart-wrenching experiences, both personally and nationally. This turning away from grief has resulted in stunted living, rendering us unable to appreciate the exquisite gift of life itself and unable to honestly look at those parts of our behavior that are in direct conflict with our values. Climbing back into bed again and again today was part of honoring my grief. Getting out of bed at 3 a.m. and writing my way through this week’s news was my next step. I am listening for whatever mix of grief and action that comes next for me.

I’ve seen how communities change when one person takes the risk to behave honorably and honestly. I know it is possible for a small group of people to bring about huge, global shifts. I believe that grace steps in powerfully in response to a transformed heart. The ripples spread from individuals to people around the globe.

I also know the inspiring vision at the heart of this country, and the beautiful global diversity of Americans. My wail is a love cry to my people and my nation. It is time to hold the full paradox that is us, and step into the fullness of our Vision.

 

1. Dorothie and Martin Hellman, A New Map For Relationships: Creating True Love at Home & Peace On the Planet, New Map Publishing, 2016, page 183. The transcript of President Johnson’s August 4, 1964 television address is accessible online.

2. Hellman and Hellman, page 179. From Michael R. Beschloss, Taking Charge: The Johnson White House Tapes, 1963-64, page 493-494.f I first learned about this through Jim Stockdale’s first-hand account of that night on the US Maddox in his memoir In Love and War.

3.  Hellman and Hellman, page 237-238. From Sheldon M Stern’s The Week the World Stood Still: Inside the Secret Cuban Missile Crisis, page50

 

Posted on

3:00 a.m.

I am no stranger to middle of the night risings. Too often I am wide awake at 3 or 4 a.m., filled with a mix of fear—of real possibilities or something wild from my imagination—and creativity. For much of the fall, however, I cozily slept past my usual time of night risings.

That shifted after the election. Real fears, imagined fears and creativity all swirled together, leaving me unable to return to sleep.

Real fears threaten my dreams of justice for our world. I must continue to wake up to both historical and current realities in the world around me, laying aside well-worn sound bites of misinformation. Starting with myself, I must notice when the cultural shards of fear and hate show up inside me, and take quick action to align my heart and behavior. Then, I must speak what is mine to say and take the action that is mine to take.

Imagined fears roil one after another. Here I easily teeter at the edge of a nightmare, too paralyzed or horrified to move.

Creativity dances in the middle of it all. For decades I’ve been practicing creative ways to communicate across differences, to embrace diversity and to act in alignment with my values and heart. This moment in our nation’s history demands profound creativity. Playful innovation, even in a time of crisis, has the power to break through our divisions to let something unexpected emerge.

I have spent my entire life honing the skills and practices I will need for this very moment. Nevertheless, part of me doesn’t feel ready. But epic adventures usually start without completed preparation—Hobbit Balbo Baggins left without his pocket-handkerchief and Queen Elise was taken, kicking and screaming, wearing a silk nightgown. Their fictional adventures support my in-the-flesh adventure of living my own life.

This is a moment that requires me to stand steady in the paradoxes of this scary midnight hour. I have to hold onto my critical thinking and seek facts rather comfortable, well-worn arguments. I have to hold onto attentive, conscious listening, especially in conversations with those with whom I disagree. I have to be creative in seeking partnerships across what feels like an abyss of difference.

abyss-walker
Abyss Walker Nancy

Years ago, in the middle of a Harvest Time sacred play ritual, I sat at a table with a group of characters. We were invited to don any of the costumes strewn around the room and come to the table dressed as the part of us that always felt excluded from the party. I don’t remember my outfit, but I clearly remember the name I gave that hidden part of myself—Abyss Walker.

Today, I honor the abyss walker part of myself. As much as I may go kicking and screaming, complaining that I am not up to the task, I know how to walk open heartedly across an abyss, the deep fissures that cut deeply across our nation and world.

First, I keep my heart open and grateful. Next, I listen—really listen—to others. This is the sort of listening I’ve been practicing in the Be Present Empowerment Model—listening to the other while simultaneously listening to myself. I need to know when the voices in my own head have grown louder than the person I am trying to listen to. Those inner thoughts are legion: My rebuttal; my fears; my corrections; my facts; and my horror. Pretending to listen when all I can hear is my own inner voice is disrespectful and leaves me with no ability to hear what is actually being said. The partnership across difference that I seek requires that I am consciously hearing the person I am listening to, and that I do whatever I need to do to keep my attention on her/him.

This sort of listening requires a level of personal responsibility that often pisses me off. It isn’t fair. Why do I have to listen so respectfully when I don’t feel respectfully listened to?

Why indeed? The only person I am responsible for is me. I have a clear choice. I can feel virtuous in my beliefs and only listen to people with whom I agree, but that choice will allow the divisions to grow and deepen. Or I can honor my values, my spirit and my faith and act in ways—in this case to listen—that flow from my deepest desire.

And yet, I can’t abdicate responsibility for showing up in the world in the fullness of my personal leadership. We need every one of us fully present, each stepping into our full leadership. I have been given a perspective and longing that must be spoken, and acted on. This is no place for silence, for playing nice.* It is a time for respectful conversations across our differences—seeking places of common ground that may be hidden by the passion of our beliefs, and refraining from demonizing the other person—all the while, sharing the perspective that is mine to share.

I have spent most of my adult life working for root level change—of our hearts, spirits and of the society. I do believe that our democracy has long been broken and filled with historical and current injustice. Profound change is needed. This election showed that millions of Americans agree that root level change is needed.

I believe that trying to change our nation from the top down, as we have done in this election, is the hardest way. But here we are. Abyss Walker will take me where the more timid parts of myself fear to tread. Who is the brave adventurer inside you, ready to lead you on the sacred path that is yours to walk for the good of our world?

*Nice is a word that has too long been held as a virtue for women, despite the fact that the origins of the word “nice” includes stupid, ignorant, incapable, silly and coy.

Novels mentioned are J.R.R Tolkien’s The Hobbit and Rae Carson’s Girl of Fire and Thorns

Posted on

All Lives Matter/Black Lives Matter

Do black lives matter?Kirkwood, MO UU BLM sign

Yes.

Do all lives matter?

Yes.

Since black lives are obviously part of all lives, why is it important to highlight that black lives matter?

In America today, blacks are far too often treated as if their lives don’t matter as much as white lives. It’s been that way for a long time, but lately it is becoming more obvious to whites like me.

It is popular for liberal white people to claim to be “colorblind,” affirming that all lives matter, regardless of color of skin, simply because we are all humans together. Unfortunately, the horrible cost of a white person being “colorblind” is that this point-of-view can effectively blind white people to injustice within housing, medicine, schools, courts, law enforcement and employment (to name a few places).

A very sophisticated system has been in place since America’s beginning to try to ensure that whites don’t notice this bias based on skin color. Whites were trained to believe that race, and “the race problem,” was a black (or non-white) thing. Consequently, as a child, it never occurred to me that I had a “race” or that the color of my skin had any affect on my life. Many of us white-skinned people paid scant attention to reports of racial injustice or saw each event as an isolated and explainable case.

Effectively woven into the structure of the United States of America from our inception is our national “race problem”—the centering of power, control and access within those with white-skinned while, in later years, trying to maintain the appearance of inclusion.

When police killed unarmed black men, one after another, Black Lives Matter rose up as a powerful corrective for democracy-loving America. The problem was clearly not just individual policemen but also bias throughout the law enforcement and court institutions. The string of killings was horrifying enough, but that wasn’t the whole story. Fellow officers didn’t stop their partner from using an illegal and deadly chokehold (Eric Garner), disrespectfully leaving the dead victim’s body on the sidewalk for overly long times (Michael Brown) and were unnecessarily harsh and heartless in their treatment of grieving families of the victims (Tamir Rice). For generations, police violence has been disproportionately used against blacks without legal consequences. America needs to start acting like black lives matter as much as white lives.

In truth, none of us is free until all of us are free. American roots were wrapped tightly around racism, sexism and classism. In that system, it was critical for one group of people—white men—to have power over everyone else. That strict hierarchy is inherent in patriarchy and structural racism, and part of the reason that we need to be reminded that black lives matter, women’s lives matter, brown lives matter, poor people’s lives matter…

It doesn’t have to be that way. As a woman, I am affected by the fact that in our culture women’s lives don’t matter as much as men’s lives. But when I assert that women’s lives matter, I am not saying that men’s lives don’t matter. Men are part of my life—my son, my husband, friends and relatives. When I stand up for women, I am standing up for justice for all.

For black Americans, the separation between black lives and white lives is often complicated. Many blacks are mixed race and have a white parent or grandparent. For a black person to say that black lives matter doesn’t mean that they believe that non-black lives don’t matter. Rather, it is a much needed corrective, a reminder that the individual and structural behaviors and beliefs need to change now, and we need to act like America knows that black lives matter.

This injustice affects the soul of America, and that includes me. My freedom, your freedom, is intimately connected to everyone being free. Working together in diverse partnerships, we must unearth, then eradicate, at its roots, the racism built into our institutions and laws.

I look forward to the day when our nation embodies the truths claimed at the founding of America—Liberty and Justice for all. For all lives to matter, we need to first heed the reminder that black lives matter.

 

This is one of several blogs that got its start listening to The Seattle Times Under Our Skin: What do we mean when we talk about Race? video. I wanted to explore how I would respond to their inquiry.

 

 

Posted on

Stepping into What I Hated

I hated economics in college, yet most of my adult life has been diving deeply into money, class and economic justice.

I hate fundraising, yet I have been part of Be Present, Inc.’s fundraising team for twelve years.

Though I entered this field kicking and screaming, I’ve discovered that working with money offers an exquisite doorway to spiritual transformation and that addressing all aspects of fundraising can take the lead in social justice. While “economics” and “fundraising” sounded dull, spiritual transformation and social justice made my heart sing. The draw has been strong enough that I’ve continued this exploration of the intersection of money and faith for over thirty years.

Below is a distillation of Be Present’s Vision-Based, Social Change Fund Development philosophy, where we work to expand the boundaries of philanthropy while building a social justice movement sustained by trust, mutual respect and equality.

Even if you are disinterested in philanthropy as a subject, I hope that this perspective gives you hope in these times when money is at the heart of so much darkness.

Vision-based

Be Present, Inc. believes that philanthropy can take the lead in the journey for social change. Our fundraising is vision based; we begin and end with our vision in mind. This vision is guided by four core values: Grassroots democracy; Diversity; Equality and Inclusion; Personal and Global Responsibility.

We develop our fundraising strategy to be in alignment with these values, and then bring together the resources – people, time and money – to make the vision a reality. We believe that collaborative learning, transformative leadership and building effective relationships is what leads to sustainable fundraising. Therefore, everyone who participates in the network financially invests in our work together, supported by the Board’s Vision-Based Social Change Fund Development Team.

Social Change

Access to resources shapes social movements in the U.S. These resources – time, labor, and particularly money – are vital to organizational survival and political success. Exploring who gives, how they give, and the effects of the giving have an impact on effecting sustainable justice and therefore are important political questions to address. The Be Present Vision-Based Social Change Fund Development Model is based on the core principles that raising money is political and that all people from all backgrounds are contributors to and benefit from the work of social justice.

Illustration by Khara Scott-BeyBe Present’s guiding principle is that philanthropy’s success is measured not only by where money is given, but also the process by which it is given. We commit to raising while using the Be Present Empowerment Model® to examine the dynamics of race, class, gender and power that influence fundraising and giving practices.

Be Present has a commitment to work with diverse individuals and organizations. Not willing to allow the ability to pay the full price be the deciding factor of who can access our services, we offer a sliding payment scale. To simultaneously thrive so we can continue to support the social change movement, Be Present has developed both a detailed budged for the actual costs of offering the trainings/consultancies and a multi-pronged, collaborative funding stream.

First, we ask individuals/organizations to pay at the highest rate they comfortably can. Second, we offer support to people/organizations to envision a fundraising plan to help raise funds to cover the costs. Third, the giving and fundraising by those in the Be Present network and our financial supporters are focused on ensuring that the diversity and inclusivity that weave through our mission and vision are reflected in all aspects of our work.

The Vision-Based Social Change Fund Development Team has compelling monthly dialogues to develop skills in building long-lasting, thriving relationships; bringing more of one’s whole self into their giving; addressing money and privilege dynamics in relationships; understanding giving practices of diverse communities; and promoting innovative, sensitive and respectful philanthropic practices.

Fund development

Fund development is the process by which Be Present uses fundraising (and other revenue-generating vehicles) to build capacity and sustainability. The focus is on expanding and further diversifying Be Present, Inc.’s funding sources—from fundraising efforts, fee-for-services (consulting contracts and training registration fees) and merchandise sales.

While fundraising itself still isn’t my favorite activity, I love the doors it opens to a transformation of our spirit and our relationship with our global human family.

 

Posted on

Double Helix Transformation

Science has affirmed what I know intuitively—genetic changes happen throughout our lifetime, can affect our behavior and are passed from one generation to another.

In the last few decades, epigenetic research showed that epigenetic changes (molecular methyl groups attaching to our DNA) occurred during one’s lifetime.  In the middle of writing Big Topics at Midnight, I discovered the work of Barbara McClintock exploring changes in a gene in response to environmental stress. In my book I noted, “Dr. McClintock had won the 1983 Nobel Prize for her discovery that stress to a corn plant caused genes to change their position on the chromosomes. She proved that genes, the genetic building blocks passed through the generations, were mutable and could be changed. If this change could happen due to stress, I presumed it could also happen due to a positive stimulus. It appeared to me that generational healing through changes in our DNA was scientifically possible.” *

dna-double-helix1

When my ancestors began to share their stories with me, and then wanted them woven into my social change memoir, I knew experientially that transformation was possible not only in my own life but also genetically in my family line.

Often we trace physical characteristics back to our families: creative like Mother; stubborn like Grandfather; walk like Dad. But the similarity can also flow into emotional states: fear, anxiety, optimism. There are also behaviors to consider: control, integrity, obsessive tendencies.

In addition to family patterns, we also carry the imprint of the culture’s influence on our ancestors over the generations. For me that has included guilt around playing when there is work that needs to be done or dissatisfaction with my body. Culturally we also have the stain of sexism/patriarchy and racism/white supremacy woven into our DNA (both conscious and unconscious).

Trauma, nurture and emotional patterns of all sorts can be passed to us through our genetic make up at birth.  However, genetic and epigenetic research both point to the fact that change is possible within our DNA itself and/or molecular attachments to our DNA.

Some of the characteristics I’ve inherited, I want to keep. Others I’d like to shift, such as generalized fear, feeling inadequate and unconscious use of excessive power and control sourced merely on society’s inaccurate and unjust bias toward those of us with white skin.

Every choice I make can have genetic/epigenetic consequences. When these choices and changes are sustained over a period of time, I believe they will support healthy genetic evolution.

I want that change to improve the integrity of my life, to be sure. But I also want to make changes in my life that will support generations that follow me.

Here is where my understanding boldly steps beyond scientific proof. I believe that these genetic changes move both directions in our family lines, affecting our ancestors and those descendants who are already born and those yet unborn. In addition, I believe that this shift can change the culture as well as individuals

Maybe one day science will catch up. Maybe not. Either way, I chose to believe this intuitive knowing that my efforts to shift entrenched, generational patterns—familial and societal—are part of my love and service to the world.

* Thurston, Nancy. Big Topics at Midnight (Portland, OR: Rosegate Press, 2012)  pages 205 and 206.