I’ve Got Your Back…And Some Olives (published on SheLoves Magazine)

On Saturday, Jan. 21, a group of friends and I joined with about 500,000 people to march on Washington, D.C. Together, we marched to support freedom of speech, religion, and press; to welcome the stranger and foreigner; and to stand up for equal rights and treatment for people of color, Muslims, women, immigrants, the disabled, and other oppressed groups.

What I will remember most will not be the speakers, as wonderful as they were, nor the signs, as hilarious and powerful as they were, nor my feet, as tired and sore as they were after 13 hours of work.

Want to read more? Then please follow this link to the rest of this post over at SheLoves Magazine.

Sorry I’m Late: Showing Up for Justice after Ignoring the Invitations

rsvp

Broomwithaview.com

I read recently how protesting and resisting systemic evil in Trump’s America is like finally showing up to a party after numerous invitations and delays.

Organizations like Black Lives Matter, the ACLU, the International Rescue Committee, and other activist groups have known of this corruption for a much longer time than most of us privileged people. Some were born into this system and have been pushing back from an early age. Others “got woke” and caught the memo as early as they could and jumped right into action.

I, on the other hand, showed up to this “party” beyond fashionably late.

I made plenty of excuses in the process, too.

I didn’t know if anyone I knew would be there. I didn’t know what to say when I showed up, because I didn’t know if I would understand what everyone was saying and didn’t want to make any more social faux pas than I already do.

I also didn’t know what to bring. Should I keep it cheap and bring a bag of chips or actually go through the effort of preparing a tasty entree? Should I buy a little gift on the way or make something crafty and impressive so everyone there would know my presence was legitimate?

I didn’t know how to deal with my own power and privilege in these contexts, either. I didn’t know if I could voice my insights or if I should let everyone else do the talking. Would I be too “white,” too “hetero,” or too privileged to even have a reason to be there? Would people think I was there to fulfill my Messiah-complex? Would I know if that was my reason?

More than being uncomfortable with messing up, though, I didn’t want to arrive needing to learn anything. I wanted to arrive fully prepared and ready to do everything just right, as if I were the host and the leader, not the one invited to be led.

So instead of being with and learning from those who are most oppressed, I read articles and posted tweets. I wrote about social justice from my perspective, and while I mentioned the marginalized, I didn’t learn too much about their own perspectives. When I did read their words, I let my own guilt and shame push me away from their pain instead of deeper into it.

Finally, after the election, I began to realize I no longer cared (as much) if I said or did the wrong things as long as I said and did something. I began to honestly acknowledge my role, not to lead and take over, but to follow and learn from those affected most by these evils.

I finally showed up to the party, and I felt a little awkward.

I arrived with my bag of chips in hand and a sheepish grin on my face, all apologetic for my tardiness, and tried to figure out how to take part in the festivities.

I know I don’t get the head seat, which as a natural leader bothers me. I don’t get to call all the shots, which as an outspoken person discomforts me. I have to listen and learn more than I interject and teach, and my desire to control and be “right” are going to make this so difficult and so necessary.

I am so terribly late, and it will take me a while to feel comfortable with the crowd. It’s going to take some time for me to stop berating myself for showing up as late as I did, and to own my lateness without letting it own me.

In that time, though, I will listen to, learn from, and live with those on the front lines as a no-longer absent ally.

So to those with whom I am marching, protesting, and resisting, who have been doing this work a lot longer than I: Thank you for the invitation and for still opening the door and welcoming me in when you had every right to tell me to hit the road. Thank you for giving me the grace to learn and be here with you.

I’m sorry ahead of time for the things I will say that will show how much learning about I still have to do. I’m sorry for the times I will unintentionally step on your toes and try to be the leader when I am called to be the follower. I can only hope you will forgive me and extend grace my way, even when I don’t deserve it, in your own way and time.

Above all, know I am here with you because you are made in the sacred image of God, and I want to honor the divinity within you as well as I can.

Thank you for letting me join with you as an ally.

To those in my shoes, all tied up in power and privilege, wanting to be part of this but unsure exactly how, get involved anyway you can. March, protest, talk to your representatives.

Most of all, talk with and be among those whom these policies most affect, because they will be the ones to lead these movements and make change happen, because their lives and livelihoods are on the line.

Listen to and learn from them. Don’t try to lead. Instead, follow. Let them be the leaders of their own movements. Be allies instead of saviors.

You’re going to make mistakes. Of course you are. We all do. Be quick to apologize, quick to learn, and quick to move forward.

May God be with us, and may we be with each other, in the victories and pitfalls.

*****

To learn more about being involved in social change as a privileged person, check out Christena Cleveland’s upcoming series, How to be last:  A practical theology for privileged people.

Where Do We Go From Here? Further Reflections on the Women’s March and How to Stay Involved

women

ABC News

It’s a question we’ve asked since the election and, for the more “woke” among us, even longer.

We’ve been asking since we started to wake up to what’s really going on around us, when we realized racism, sexism, ableism, homophobia, and ignorance are real, alive, and well.

Before, during, and after the march, we asked the question in solidarity with our sisters and allies.

It’s a question I hope we continue to ask ourselves every single day.

And it’s a question with many answers.

For some, the answer will be to keep marching, to keep calling, writing, and emailing representatives and the President himself.

For others, it will be to work on the ground and keep encouraging and empowering the marginalized.

For the creatives, it can be to keep creating art which sustains and challenges the mind and soul.

For everyone, it can be learning, reading, and listening to people, especially people of color and with different abilities, lest we make our activism purely for people exactly like us. It can be to keep taking care of your physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual needs so we can continue to race instead of collapsing after a short sprint, and to keep on honoring the One who made us all in the Divine image.

And it should definitely be a call to keep on playing, laughing, crying, screaming, cooking, teaching, writing, drawing, painting, filming, parenting, preaching, gardening, homemaking, and doing what makes us feel most alive and connected to the world around us.

But above all, the answer and challenge to us all is to keep on loving.

Keep on showing love in ways which are true to you, your passions, your personality, and your beliefs.

Keep on showing love not by being passive and bullied, but by being kind even when it isn’t nice.

Keep on loving the sacredness in humanity. Keep straining your eyes to see it when it’s barely discernible, and when the spark seems all but invisible, begin calling  it out of them.

We can keep this up, friends. We can do this work together. We must do it together.

Let’s keep running the race. Let’s keep supporting each other.

Let Love make us great.

*****

To participate in the 10 Actions/100 Days campaign, please visit the Women’s March website.

To keep your feminism intersectional (inclusive of as many voices as possible and inseparable from topics and issues of race, class, ability, gender identity, sexuality, etc.), check out this reading list from bustle.com.

Also download the Countable app to make contacting your local representatives and keeping up to date with legal news easier!

As of today, there are now FIVE prospective marches on Washington on the horizon: the Trump Taxes March on April 15, the Peoples’ Climate March on April 29, the Immigrants’ March on May 6, the National Pride March on June 11, and the Scientists’ March on Washington TBD. Follow the links for more information!

Wednesday Wisdom: Linda Sarsour

To my fellow marchers, protesters, and all-around resistors, be empowered by the one and only Linda Sarsour, executive director of the Arab American Association of New York AND a national co-chair of the Women’s March on Washington! Thankful that #IMarchWithLinda

linda

New York Times

“If there was ever a time to stand together, to stand proud and loud, it’s under a president who won an election on a message of hate and division. The march is not the beginning, nor is it the end. It builds on decades of work by brilliant and committed advocates and organizers. The march is only a continuation of that work and a stepping stone into an era of resistance to an administration that has sent a loud and clear message through its appointments and its agenda that it does not care about our issues or our communities.”

-Linda Sarsour, #WhyIMarch

Women’s March: A Brief Statement

womens

It’s going to take some time for me to fully process the incredible grace and power I experienced at the Women’s March on Saturday.

But today, I will say this:

I have never left a gathering more empowered than I did during this one.

The solidarity, kindness, and attentiveness expressed by the participants in this march was in and of itself a testament to the power of the love and compassion we so desperately need.

And naysayers are going to have hard time dismissing, downplaying, and otherwise explaining away the importance of these gatherings anytime soon.

Be empowered, beloveds. This is just the beginning. Keep on marching, challenging, and loving on!

The march is over, but the movement continues! To find out the next steps to take, please go to https://www.womensmarch.com/.

Watering the Way

Psalm 126

6    Those who sowed with tears
will reap with songs of joy.

7    Those who go out weeping, carrying the seed,
will come again with joy, shouldering their sheaves.

tears

DevianArt

When you mourn from lack of love and justice, let the tears flow.

When you cry out to God at your lowest and most abandoned, let the tears flow.

And when your grief and pain are beyond expression, let the groanings of the Spirit weep for you.

When you’re frustrated because people cannot understand why “All Lives Matter” isn’t enough, let the tears flow.

When you don’t know how to explain oppression to oppressors when they refuse to acknowledge its existence, let the tears flow.

When you sit at another family gathering where someone you love and admire demonizes a people group, let the tears flow.

When you march for the lives and voices of women, black and brown brothers and sisters, our LGBTQ+ family, refugees, Muslims, and all the company of the oppressed who are also the company of God, let the tears flow.

When you walk the path of justice, mercy, and humility, let the tears flow.

Because there might only be mustard seeds on that path, but they will grow into mighty, intrusive bushes which house the previously unwelcome, and they will be watered by our nourishing tears.

When we allow ourselves to open up to the plight of those the world deems “less than,” when we allow ourselves to hear the pain of their stories, when we allow our hearts to be broken by the injustices they have faced, when we move out of the way and let them share their stories of trials and trepidation to those that would silence them, then all of our tears will be ripe with the nourishment it takes to get those seeds out of the fertile, expectant ground.

The seeds are sowed, the harvest will plentiful when it comes, so let the tears fall and do their work.