Mamas, Llamas, and Votes

Today, our politically active church did not let us forget the fact that next week is election week. In fact, even the children's sermon was full of non-partisan political initiative.

Now, I'm used to children's sermons that consist of a brief object lesson involving a shoebox or a light bulb or a candy cane. In each case, all I knew as a kid was that the correct answer to any question was "Jesus."

But not so at my current church. Here, the children's sermon is usually one of the most moving portions of the service. These kids make you think. They make you reconsider the seeming simplicity of your faith.

So today, instead of the Ten Commandments or why we shouldn't tell a lie, the children's talk was about the complex history of women's suffrage.

There were several powerful moments in this short little conversation with the kids.

The first came when our pastor asked how many people in the congregation had a mother who was of voting age pre-1920 and consequently encountered a time in her life when she wasn't able to vote. Several hands shot up. Then, she asked how many people had a grandmother who was unable to vote. Nearly 3/4 of the hands went up.

It had never occurred to me how recent the suffrage movement really was until that moment. Suddenly, it became no longer some removed historical fact.

We're talking only a couple of generations ago. It's hard to imagine.

The second great moment of the children's sermon occurred when our pastor asked the kids why they thought women weren't allowed to vote back then. Our usually precocious kids didn't raise their hands. They had no guesses. They were stumped.

"Actually," Pastor Laurie said, "I'm glad you don't have an answer to that one. There were no good reasons that women weren't allowed to vote."

The congregation chuckled. We were proud of our kids. We realized that they've grown up in a world that has never told them that their gender is too uneducated, too weak, or too frivolous to vote.

I left church feeling even more driven to exercise my right to vote this election. And this led to an embarrassingly obsessive t-shirt buying frenzy. (Perhaps not the most politically-transformative way to get the word out, but nonetheless, it was fun.)

First, I got the following shirts for my mom and mother-in-law:


Then, I had to treat myself to the following:

The latter really has nothing to do with gender issues, but I've been trying to figure out how to incorporate llamas onto this blog for some time, and this is the best I can do. I mean, honestly, how could you refuse to vote for Obama when you've got this fuzzy, weird-looking creature egging you on?

Plus, who could resist the llama song?


In fact, with a few minor alterations, this could end up being our new National Anthem:


Regardless of whom you vote for, may we all remember that, unlike llamas, we as women do have the right to vote. And that's a relatively new and wonderful freedom.

Why I'm Anti-Abortion and Pro-Choice

I've tried to keep political commentary on this blog to a minimum, not because I don't think politics are important, but more because I DO think politics are important. As you can tell from my earlier post, our participation in selecting our government leaders is a right that is to be taken seriously.

Yet as we near Election Day, partisanship causes us to become more divided and, well, more ruthless to one another.

We become polarized on many issues because they are beliefs held close to our hearts. Yet despite the negative campaign ads and political bickering, there's one issue that we just might be less divided on than usual -- abortion.

As a person of faith and a feminist, this issue has threatened to polarize me against myself. Yet both of these aspects of my identity offer me gifts of wisdom and justice.

My faith encourages me to work for life during my time on this earth -- life for unborn children, Iraqi civilians, men and women with AIDS, malnourished kids, etc. My identity as a feminist
offers me the opportunity to fight for choice -- the choice to have children or not have children, the choice to get an education, the choice to receive equal pay for equal work, the choice to live my dreams.

So for a long time now, I've been uncertain as to which camp I fall under: Pro-life or Pro-choice. I'm both.

This year, I began to say it this way: I'm anti-abortion and pro-choice.

At the debate last night, Obama echoed my sentiments, saying that no one was pro-abortion, and I think this is definitely getting closer to the mindset that many of us hold.

In a recent blog from the progressive Christian magazine Sojourners, Jim Wallis agrees:

Last evening, both Barack Obama and John McCain took steps toward finding some possible common ground.

Both said that they would not use Roe v. Wade as a litmus test for appointing Supreme Court Justices in the future.

And both suggested some cultural commitments and policy directions that could be most effective in dramatically reducing abortion. Last night’s debate got that conversation started.

Americans are for life. Americans are for choice. The challenge for our political leaders, our religious leaders, and every American is to hold freedom and life together even when they seem to collide. We should do all we can to make sure we have as much of both as possible. And we can start by having a better conversation about abortion in this election and beyond. Thankfully, the first steps toward that conversation were taken last evening.

We still have a long way to go on both sides of this issue, but last night gave me hope that we will realize that polarization doesn't solve anything. Listening does. Dialogue does. Understanding and compassion certainly do.

I've often commented to my partner that the political system in this country would be so much easier if we continued to follow the election principles that the U.S. was founded upon. Remember from elementary school history class? Whoever received the most votes became President. Whoever received the second-most votes became Vice President.

Call me a forever optimist, but can you even imagine the reconciliation that might take place in this country if we worked together? Instead of a battle of rhetoric between Pro-choice and Pro-life camps, we might actually put our heads together and think of a better way to help women with unwanted pregnancies.

Unfortunately, the two-party system seems here to stay. The best we can do now is put aside our own binaries and instead try to live in paradox.

Hallowing Gender

In case you haven't noticed the growing inclusion of giant spiders and ghastly orange pumpkins in the windows of nearly every commercial establishment in the U.S., let me be the first to remind you: 'Tis the season for Halloween.

For kids, this is a time of fun and innovation. For parents, it often means a lot of money and/or time spent on finding/making the perfect costume. (Mom -- think the Philly Phanatic costume you made for my brother out of green fuzzy fabric, cardboard, and an intricate welding of party-blowers...) For us childless twenty-somethings, Halloween means buying a whole bunch of our favorite candy and praying that very few kids knock on our door so we can EAT IT ourselves. :)

Halloween is an interesting time for gender observations because it's the holiday that is most conducive and, simultaneously, most restrictive for gender-bending. I remember, for instance, the majority of the guys in my eighth grade class coming to school dressed as women. For an example of the ridiculous costumes available for men, check out Amy's great blog that I've added to my blog roll. Eek.

But for many small children, Halloween is a time to strictly conform to gendered expectations. Go to any elementary school parade, and you'll most likely see girls dressed as princesses, and boys dressed as superheroes. The problem is that these roles enhance the dichotomy, which states that boys are supposed to be active and girls are supposed to be passive. This is evident in our most basic fairy tales -- the girl is the princess who needs rescuing, and the boy is the rescuer.

Books like the recent Christian bestseller Wild At Heart convince men to embrace these roles as the active, manly rescuer, the pursuant of adventure.

There's nothing wrong with the idea that men are active and risk-taking. The problem occurs when we as a culture assign the trait of adventure to men and men alone.

When we tell women that it is in their nature to be passive and nurturing, we often forget to encourage them to stand up for themselves, to take risks, to disagree when necessary, and to strive for their goals. When we tell men that it is in their nature to be active, we often forget to allow them the freedom to compromise, to display their authentic emotions, and to nurture their children.

It's fascinating to see the ways that these dichotomies play themselves out in Halloween costume selection. Take a look at just one website, specializing in Halloween costumes. They separate their costume selection into girls' costumes and boys' costumes. The girls' costumes consist almost exclusively of princess outfits, while the boys' are almost entirely superheroes. Note, too, how the girls are posed passively, as if modeling the costumes for someone else's gaze. The boys, however, are posed actively, as if they are ready to fight.

Dichotomies hurt both men and women.

And yet it is clear that these dichotomies are taught not innate. For instance, my brother and I had a set of the seven dwarfs from Snow White. We'd play with them for hours on end. I was completely convinced that Bashful was a woman, despite the obvious evidence to the contrary. My parents actually had to clarify that ALL the dwarfs were male, despite Bashful's long eyelashes. Similarly, I was shocked when I discovered that Big Bird was a boy. I had so identified with his leadership and fun, that I just assumed that he was a girl like me.

When I think back to my own childhood, I remember the moments of strict gender conformity during Halloween -- I was Snow White one year, and my brother was Prince Charming. (OK, ignoring the odd incestuous implications of that one...let's move on...) My parents, however, were the dwarfs. Even now, this strikes me as so odd! A complete reversal of roles. My parents were obviously taller, yet they dressed as dwarfs. My mom was obviously female, but she donned a gray beard. So, maybe my brother and I were blessed because even in the midst of our moments of ultimate gender conformity, we were shown the freedom to be whatever we wanted to be.