Gays

In this morning's Washington Post, some military folks wrote an editorial about gays in the military - and how they should not be allowed (see http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/04/14/AR2009041402704.html). What is most interesting for me is not so much what these writers adhere to (and the amazing loopholes in their thinking - it's not as if you can tell who's gay by his/her skin color, and it is not uncommon for people to come to grips with their sexual orientation at about the same time they would be in the military); what is most interesting are the comments made by readers. They are a clear example of the desperate need for the art of dialog. I have written before that love and logic will be the means through which our world will come together; both of these are necessary. Unfortunately, we too often start with logic; I think we need to start more with love, and then engage in dialog. (Perhaps one of the internal dialogs could also be that we actually support no gays in the military as a starting point to getting everyone out?)

I also think learning, practicing and engaging in dialog that is led by love is something that those of us who are truly passionate about non-violence and doing what we can to remove the occasions for future violence should start to embrace. Anywhere we turn in the world, it seems that there is an edge of violence in the air, and we can expect more as people become more fearful, and more vulnerable. I know that for many, glbt issues are not at the forefront of people's minds but, as with HIV-prevention, I think that how we can engage in these issues can be good opportunities for practicing how to deal with some of the more difficult issues. The issues are becoming more prominent in the media (two examples: http://www.advocate.com/news_detail_ektid78359.asp, and http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/04/14/AR2009041403455.html), so we may as well get involved.

Progress on Gay Rights

Over the past few months, there has been an enormous amount of movement on the rights of same gender-couples to get married. We all know about California and the voter decision to support Prop 8. There was also, in November, legislation in Florida and Arizona that put various restrictions on same gender families. But then, this week alone, Iowa courts and Vermont legislature made same-gender marriage a reality in those states. The District of Columbia is taking similar action. On a national level, there has been increased discussion about letting civil unions be the rule of the land for all people, and marriages be the acts of churches - a compromise that for many seems to have merit.

At the same time, in Iraq, (see NYTimes article: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/04/08/world/middleeast/08gay.html?_r=1&emc=eta1) there is a backlash in some of the more conservative regions against gay men. As quoted from the article: "Clerics in Sadr City have urged followers to help root out homosexuality in Iraqi society, and the police have begun their own crackdown on gay men. 'Homosexuality is against the law,' said Lt. Muthana Shaad, at a police station in the Karada district, a neighborhood that has become popular with gay men. 'And it’s disgusting.' For the past four months, he said, officers have been engaged in a 'campaign to clean up the streets and get the beggars and homosexuals off them.'”

All progress has elements of violent reactivity. No doubt that there is a rapid change in the expansion of gay rights, but we can expect an increase in reactivity as well, unfortunately. It always seems to be a part of the struggle.

I think it is important that we as Friends and Friend-communities look to see what we can do to support the movement. Paradoxically, I do not think that what we should do is create a litmus test for gay marriage. I just don't think society as a whole is there yet. But I think we can create allies for gay marriage among those whom are not yet there, but who are repulsed by people such as Fred Phelps (see www.godhatesfags.com), and by the attitudes of Lt. Shaad as quoted in the Times. Patience and perseverance will get us there, with a dash of faith. We know that opponents to gay marriage are gearing up, and their tactic is going to be to divide, and let gay marriage be the dividing issue. If we react along these lines, rather than continue to reach across these lines to those who are not at the far extreme but just on other side of the line, we will do more harm than good. To react divisively plays right into the "us vs. them" game. I, for one, will continue to look to expand who the "us" is rather than focus on "them".

Voting Rights vs. Statehood

As recently as Sunday afternoon (three days ago), I would have been much more joyful about the prospect of the citizens of Washington, DC getting a vote in the House of Representatives, and very skeptical of the notion of statehood ("are you kidding me? A governor, statehouse, two senators, etc., all for one city?" I thought).

Then, along comes Mike Brown, one of the Districts two elected "Shadow senators", and within 15 minutes, there goes my worldview (again!) Here's what I quickly learned:

1. Getting a vote on the house floor will not effectively change the governmental structure of the District, nor will it give the government any more autonomy.
2. The trade-off at the house level is that Utah will be granted a new seat in the house as well, giving that state 4 seats (and almost assuredly a Republican seat knowing that Utah is, by voting record, the most Republican state in the nation).

So, while the citizens of the District will most assuredly now have a voting person in congress, the District government will be no more autonomous, and in fact could very-well be further away from that autonomy. Why? Becuase on a national level there could very much be a sense that now that there is a voting voice in the House, the District should just be quiet about any other complaints.

What other complaints could there be? Well, here's three examples:
1. This city, with its high rates of HIV, cannot establish its own policies regarding such things as needle-exchange programs (which have been proven to be effective in reducing HIV-transmission). Thankfully, last year, President Bush authorized needle-exchange for the district, but it should not come to this.
2. The district cannot tax the incomes of people who work in the district but live in Maryland and Virginia. This is the only city in the country not doing this. As the Brookings Institute pointed out, it's like a restaurant being forced to serve all-comers, but only being able to charge one-third of the clientele.
3. The federal government effectively can establish gun laws in the District, moreso than in any other city.

This lack of autonomy effects so many things, including environmental policies, water policies, education policies, and the list goes on.

This city has so many challenges - internally and externally. It is a very divided city (just sit in Starbucks in Potomac Palisades, and Starbucks by Eastern Market, and you'll see the difference - and that's just within Starbucks). It has such a long history of disenfranchisement. That history continues. So, while it seems certain that there will finally be a DC voice (1 in 436) on the House floor, and Holmes-Norton may finally get her wish, it may be the long-time citizens of the District who will continue to suffer.

A model of non-violence is detained

Over this past weekend, I heard through the facebook network that Phil Rizk, someone I had known when he was at Wheaton College, had been abducted by the Egyptian police. The circumstances surrounding Phil’s detention are still not clear, and are unfolding as I write this. Phil’s parents have gone to Cairo to be with his sister and to do what they can to get Phil released (Phil is half-Egyptian and half-German). Amnesty International has sent lawyers in to protect the family from unwarranted harassment by the police (who were apparently trying to force Phil’s father to go with them to the police station as well, and were doing illegal searches of home and office without warrants). Technology (in this case facebook) has allowed hundreds of us who know Phil to follow things minute by minute. It has been as eye-opening as it is troubling to get e-mails and updates of what is happening in the moment, as opposed to an event that is in the recent past, for example, seeing posting from Phil’s sister asking people to make calls for an immediate intervention.
I first met Phil in late 2002. He was a junior at Wheaton College, and had become actively involved in Student Global AIDS Campaign fresh on the heels of Bono’s Midwest AIDS/Poverty caravan. Phil and a fellow student, Brian Davis, were the two early leaders of SGAC on this Christian campus, and were also two of the handful of students who fairly quickly looked beyond AIDS in Africa, building relationships with local people with HIV (such as myself) and local services (such as the one I was working for). The passion, compassion, and thoughtfulness of Phil and Brian (I also need to mention John Campen here as well) opened my eyes to something I had not expected: openness, respectfulness, and a profound dedication to service and making the world a better place. All three of them continue to be models for doing what Quaker author Parker Palmer wrote about – letting one’s life speak. John remains dedicated to his love of music and his dedication to family – sharing the joys and the struggles with friends and family while addressing some of the social and corporate inequities of our world. Brian has spent much of his post-college career with his now-wife Susan in Kenya and Uganda committed to serving others, most recently opening up a cyber-café in Uganda that is both a social and a training center for youth. He and Susan have also included me in family events both in Illinois and in Kenya, further crumbling the misperceptions I had about Christians and not just tolerance but real acceptance of sexual diversity.
But it is Phil I really want to write about. While I have kept in some contact with Brian and John over the years, I lost touch with Phil. After helping open the door for Wheaton College to get involved in HIV/AIDS work, I remember Phil spending his last winter college break in Iraq – this was after the US invasion. Phil went on a mission trip to try and bring healing and reconciliation through community-building. After that, we maybe saw each other once more before he graduated. Then, earlier this year, came across a blog written by Phil. Apparently he had been spending much of his time in the West Bank, mainly, from what I could tell, writing about the impact that the Israeli/Hamas battles were having on Palestinians. He has also done some films that are meant to simply bear witness to the day-do-day lives of people caught in the crossfire (To see more, go to http://www.thedailynewsegypt.com/article.aspx?ArticleID=18931) It seems that it is because of some of these writings and films, and his subsequent involvement in calls for action that focused on human rights over nationalism, that he has been apprehended (he was part of a demonstration in Cairo over the weekend; all the other demonstrators were released).
For those of us who consider ourselves pacifists, I think all three of these young men are models for us, and in very different ways. John demonstrates the importance of caring for family and friends (it was John who first drew my attention to Phil’s plight), and Brian completely dedicates and immerses himself in what he does. Unlike so many people who stay in the comfort of their own homes and try to solve problems elsewhere, Brian and Susan have completely dedicated their lives to what they are doing.

Phil takes this to an entirely different level. He has gone into the heart of conflict – first Iraq, then the West Bank – not to engage in military conflict, but to intervene on behalf of human rights. A quote from the article linked above says it best about Phil’s latest movie: The other unspoken message that Rizk captures through his lens is a creed of nonviolent resistance that each of the individuals portrayed in the film have made part of their daily lives. In continuing to cultivate fields, rebuild destroyed homes and simply refusing to yield their places on the land to others, these Palestinians embody a relentless steadfastness, shunning the weapons of their adversaries that would’ve automatically allowed the world to question their moral authority had they been employed. For Rizk, showing the rootedness of nonviolent resistance in the lives of his characters was a central aim of the film. “We wanted to address the fact that violent forms of resistance, widely reported by international media outlets, overshadow more common non-violent forms of Palestinian resistance like sumoud, longsuffering and perseverance in the face of Israeli occupation,” he explained.

Military soldiers are often noted for what they are willing to die for. Each one of these men are models of what it is to commit your life to something, at great personal sacrifice and commitment. When I think about the Quaker youth that we work with, and all youth who refuse military service, I think about people like Brian, John and Phil who also do not pick up guns as service. But they also do not pick up protest signs from the comfort of a safe place. They put themselves out there. And, as we have seen over the weekend with Phil, at great peril. It is a reminder to me of what true pacifism is all about – not just standing on the sidelines in judgment, but a full-on life-and-death commitment to create a better world through non-violence no matter what the personal costs. At times over the past 7 years, they have been my inspirations to step out my comfort zone, and to really see what my commitment is to a more just world. Especially these days, perhaps we can all look to Phil as the ultimate model, and pray that he can continue to be that model.

Unjust Prejudices

The other morning, I was sitting in Meeting for Worship, and there was a man sitting doing some kind of knitting. This completely disturbed me and was something I have noticed about. It is completely against everything I believe and stand for to have the kinds of reactions that I have to men knitting. I try to really promote and live that we love and accept things as they are without judgment. Heck, as a gay man living with HIV, who am I to sit in judgment of anyone? But when it comes to men knitting, I struggle.

So, what do I do? I think I have found an answer that works for me, at least for now. Rather than try to repress my negative feelings that morning, I reveled in them. I let the vision of me going up to this complete stranger, slapping the needles out of his hands, and saying "what the heck is wrong with you?" As I did this, what I released was not a cathartic sense of my righteousness, but instead the complete absurdity of my prejudice. Am I completely over it? No way. But what is different, is I have embraced my prejudice - my emotional reactivity - for what it is, just silly and funny. I have defused its potency. I think when we deny our prejudices, the repression may come back to bite us. It's tricky business. It's not pleasant to admit we have prejudices, but we all do. Perhaps when we can learn to accept them, we can learn to dishonor them and laugh at them. At least, for me for right now, it's a way to move through it and perhaps now connect in a deeper, more meaningful way with the male knitters of the world.

Inaug-Blog

Well hello there. It’s been a while. I’m still around, being anal about little things like jelly dishes and slacking off on important things like laundry. Despite working in a community that’s fecund with social justice study and discussion, I find that my loves are still the same: food and psychology. So I’ll write about my inauguration experience and hope that you’re not a DC native because this will likely be inaug-tale number 129 for you.

The day before Obama’s induction, once some financial duties were sloppily completed, I ran off into the cold to accomplish two things: 1) Get my inauguration ticket from my representaitive’s office and 2) see if I could get in to see Aretha Franklin at the Kennedy Center (after which I could die a happy, happy girl).

You’ve really got to pay attention to this Southeast, Northwest, etc. thing in DC. You might be looking forward to an evening of smooth jazz and instead find yourself at Frank’s Cubicle Storage in a squalid riverside community in Southeast. That day, in my haste, I failed to note that the representative’s office was a very quick, four-block walk from William Penn House rather than on some non-existent 2nd Street section downtown. “Funny, there isn’t supposed to be a tunnel here...” Toward the end of my search I was running through the crowds in a frenzy, upset and harried, before a kind café owner told me that I was a good fifteen minute walk from my 3:00 deadline. It was 2:57.

Defeated, almost broken, I decided not to be a weenie and keep trying for my second goal. The office would be open again tomorrow morning, and calorie burning will justify almost any presumably useless trip.

The first train rumbled in. Full to the brim. The second train came in. Almost empty. Weird…but OK. I spent the rest of the afternoon (no tickets left for Aretha of course) wandering around in a peevish haze, people watching and trying not to think too hard about how much time I’d wasted.

The following morning I woke up at 6:00am to get the ticket, which was just as easy as walking into a country corner store and buying a Zagnut bar. A memory came rushing in: The day before, I walked past that very same building on my way to the imaginary rep’s office and thought, “Hm I wonder what all those people are waiting in line for?”

Now, as ex-boyfriends and family members will tell you, when I don’t get enough sleep, I am a grumpy, unpleasant human being. On inauguration day, I was downright unlikable. Stupid inauguration. Stupid ticket. Stupid crowds of people. Stupid moment in history. But I headed down. When I reached the inseparable, unorganized lines of ticket-holders down by the Capitol Building (a.k.a the “ticket-thicket”), a patient, neighbor-loving crowd swept me up in their mass and had me going in some direction that was neither planned nor desired. Thank God for the group of friends behind me who, equally disoriented, called out “School of fish! Change directions!”

Somewhere down by the freeway (where it appeared zombies had attacked the city and throngs were waiting in line to escape to the epidemic) I lost my ticket. Yes, yes, yes – rib me if you like, but there it is…and I almost turned around. Not because I was grieving the loss of my chance to stand in a dreary line of over 1,000 people, but because this crowd crap wasn’t my thing. I wandered a little further in a state of indecision, and down around 7th Street I saw something; a beautifully plump young black girl with short blonde hair, blue contacts and glossy, glossy lips. Unmistakably, she was one of the more conspicuous subjects of my people watching from the day before, all the way up at the Kennedy Center. “Alright God. Let’s do this then.”

The poor man’s section down by the Washington Monument turned out to be way more sunny, hot chocolate-filled fun than the ticketed Silver Section ever could have been, and the sight and feel of that day will be with me forever.

So here’s to mistakes, here’s to the absent mind that God gave me and here’s to a new president who is already ruling in a spirit of intelligence and tolerance. With any luck, he’ll stick to the running the country, and I’ll stick to folding laundry…sometimes.

But Who Is My Neighbor?

“And who is my neighbor?"
-Luke 10:29

A couple Saturdays ago a committee member bought up this passage from Luke during a discussion about the Washington Quaker Workcamps Program that I coordinate. Over the rest of the day I thought about this passage and how it related to my previous week.

In many ways, I had spent that week with my diverse neighbors without fully realizing it.

During the week, I started working on a Convergent Friends workcamp for high school age Friends that will take place here in July. The focus of the workcamp will be about living out the Friends Testimonies in the 21st Century, because through the past several years that has been a recurring theme in conversations I have had with Friends from all branches who are in high school and college.

Also about the same time I started emailing with a youth leader from a programmed meeting about organizing a workcamp for her meeting's youth group about what it means to be Quaker and Christian in the US and the impact it has and can have. In our dialogue about the workcamp, we had to overcome both of our preconceived notions about each other's background to find out our similarities. I realized during our conversation is that the workcamp I am planning for July will be based more on our common Quaker beliefs and letting our life speak than on the differences that divide us as a religion. Once we can see our similarities in each other we can start to see how we can connect on a deeper level.

On Tuesday that week, I participated in a peace vigil with a friend to remind the incoming Congress about the lives that are still being lost in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. We marched in silent around the Capitol bearing the names of the dead. Ironically I had to leave this vigil early, because I had to attend a meeting at a military hospital located in NW Washington. At the meeting I asked about ways that the workcamp program could be involved with the hospital and what groups could do for the wounded soldiers and their families.

The next day I went to a very small memorial vigil for a homeless man, who I met at the Friends Meeting of Washington once. On Christmas Eve, he was found beaten to death. This murder largely went unnoticed. No articles in the Post. A Friend saw an article about it and she thought the name sounded familiar, so she let the listserv know. Two vigils were immediately planned for this man that the meeting barely knew. At the vigil I went to, three of us gathered in the cold rain to remember this man who died on the streets from a senseless act of violence.

As I thought back, I realized that week consisted of spending time with my neighbors, whether in person, by email, or in memory, whether I agreed or disagreed with them or even if I knew them at all, because they are fellow human beings, children of the Light, like me.

The week also left me with some queries for fellow Friends:

Why do we attend other churches for interfaith events in our communities, but not another Friends meeting or church of another branch than us down the street?

Why do we show compassion for the injured victims of war, but not for the injured soldiers that are sent to fight? Aren't they themselves victims of this war industry?

Why did a man have to die on the cold December streets? If we could organize two vigils to remember him by, why couldn't we invite him into our homes for a warm place to rest?