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.

A shout out to my wonderfully unconventional youth group

Generally, when I hear the words "youth group," what comes to mind is lots of Kumbayaa-ing around a fire pit, a series of nonsensical group games involving whipped cream and paper bags, and a lesson that inevitably leads us all to repent of our weekly failings and draw closer to God.

So when my church asked Joe and I if we'd be youth group leaders, I had to seriously pause.

My parents were my youth group leaders when I was growing up, and they were always full of energy and earnest about their roles.

But in this era of postfeminist thinking, I had to re-evaluate what my approach youth group might look like. I decided that I'm anti-indoctrination, anti-God-as-father-but-not-as-mother, anti-religion-as-excuse-to-sit-back-and-wait-for-heaven, etc. You get the picture. So what's a feminist youth group leader to do?

Fortunately, I'd found this superbly crazy church family at Central Baptist Church, so I had nothing to worry about. (Don't let the Baptist fool you -- these guys and gals are into social justice, changing the world, serving the poor, welcoming the LGBT community, etc.)

At this weekend's annual youth retreat, we had the requisite group games and singing, but we also journaled, played with modeling clay, made up rhythmic chants as prayers, and painted.

My favorite activity this weekend came when one of the leaders asked the youth to create a craft project that reminded them of God. One kid drew an awesome picture of a muscular guy with tattoos. "I think God sits on a big couch up there with a high-def TV, making sure we're all doing alright," he said.

When someone asked him about God's tattoos, this kid said matter-of-factly, "Oh, isn't it obvious? God's been in the Navy."

I cracked up.

Then, another youth member said that God, to her, was a woman.

The kid sitting next to me read me his "Letter to God." It said:
God, please watch over us. You are a light saber. May the force be with you.
Another made a banner out of purple glitter that said "God is da bomb."

Unconventional? You bet. But what's wonderful about these youth is that they view God as this great creative being, as one who lives beyond rigid gender roles and can be man, woman, light saber and purple glitter all at the same time.

In short, I love each and every one of these youth for their quirky creativity. I love that they are all reflections of a God that I can believe in -- one who is full of love, joy, and endless, genderless possibilities.

Green feminists

Today, I'm giving away Gender Lens' first ever GREEN AWARD to myself for carpooling and taking public transportation to work. (Ok, so it's not exactly ethical for the judge to choose herself for an award, but hey, somebody's gotta get things started here.)

Last year, because of Joe's job, I had to drive 2 1/2 hours each way to work. Yuck. Now, I feel like this carpooling/train-riding is a bit of my penance for the havoc I reaked on the environment (and myself) for being in the car so long.

It's also quite fun. Talking to my carpooling buddy on the way to work at 6 AM makes me a little less bleary-eyed when I face a classroom full of students. And riding the train in the afternoon allows me to hop off at the Reading Terminal Market for some fresh produce or a canoli. All without the burden of contributing (as heavily) to greenhouse gases. Really, what could be better than that?

I will be accepting nominations for future green awards via email and/or Facebook, so feel free to drop me a line. Sharing your green ideas can help others envision new ways to be green. (Which means, ahem, that helping others is the only real "reward" at this time. Maybe one day I will have million dollar greenly sponsors on this blog and can actually give you a cool gift certificate. Until now, deal.)

So what does joining this new fad of greening have to do with feminism? Well, feminists have been saying for years that injustices are inextricably linked. For instance, consider the startling statistic that 2/3 of the world's poor are women. This injustice is due to multiple factors, including gender oppression, class and race inequality, economic factors, and, yes, the environment too.

Consider, for instance, the ways that global warming has affected a country like Bangladesh. The change in climate patterns has caused excess flooding, taking out homes and crops, and making fresh water ponds unfit to drink.

This burden of poverty typically falls on women, who are in many cases the primary caretakers of the family. Sometimes it's hard to see how our individual actions here in the U.S. have much consequence for women abroad, but consider this:
"Although Americans represent 5 percent of the world's population, U.S. transportation sources contribute 45 percent of the world's emission of carbon dioxide, according to a report by the nonprofit group Environmental Defense."

So GO GREEN and share your GREEN ideas with the rest of us.

It's your night

On Friday night, my partner and I took a class together at the Viking Cooking School. Joe is really into culinary experimentation, and I'm really into eating whatever it is he whips up, so this seemed like a good move for us.

We enjoyed ourselves quite a bit and ended up with a mean lobster-mushroom risotto, lamb chops, and a freaking yummy pound cake dessert parfait thing. (Hey Paula, if you're reading this, now we have a recipe for your yummy leftover pound cake! And to Cathleen or any of my other vegetarian friends: I'm sorry about the lamb.)

The moment of gender perplexity in this scenario occurred early in the evening when the chef was giving us instructions. He explained that there were two prep stations, while there were six of us, so we needed to work together in whatever arrangement was preferable. Then he turned to me and said, "Whatever set-up makes you happy. This is your night, and I want you to be happy."

Well, here's the thing. It wasn't really my night at all. Not even close. This was Joe's bread and butter. I was just along for the culinary ride.

I blinked a few times and remembered when I had heard that phrase before...three years ago, when I got married. I can't tell you how many people told me that the wedding was "my day," and I should do whatever I needed to do in order to make it perfect.

Uh, what about the other half of this celebration? I often wondered out loud. I'm not exactly getting married to myself here.

So as the chef stood there grinning at me, I couldn't help wondering something similar.

"This isn't my night." I said matter-of-factly.

His face began to twitch a little. This was not the culturally-conditioned response.

I tried again. "It's actually his night," I said, gesturing at Joe.

He tried to collect himself, and his grin got a little more uncertain, a little more forced. "Whatever makes you happy," he replied tersely.

Joe and I tied our own apron strings, smiled to ourselves, and began to chop some serious shallots.

Oprah: Feminist Theologian??

This past weekend, a small sliver of a dream came true for me. I got the chance to see Oprah.

No, I didn't land free tickets to her show or open my front door in my jammies to see her camera crew there waiting to whisk me off to Neverland.

Instead, my partner and I went to hear her speak in Steadman's hometown of Whitesboro, NJ to a small crowd of 500 people. (In fact, all pics in this entry are c/o my partner Joe You rock, babe.)

And she was everything I hoped she'd be: confident, funny, motivating, emotionally moving, and theological.

Yes, theological. And not only that, her stories reflected a theology that empowered women, something we don't always encounter in churches these days.

Oprah told the story of how she had auditioned for the movie The Color Purple and then heard nothing about the part for weeks. She couldn't remember wanting anything more.

Then Joan Rivers called her "fat" on national television, and Oprah vowed to visit a fat camp. She was running on the track, feeling sorry for herself, when she realized that she needed to "give everything to God," the movie role, her anxiety over it...everything.

As she walked off the track, she felt relieved.

Just then, a woman in a purple coat came running towards her, telling her that Steven Spielberg was on the phone. She'd gotten the part.

Now, this post is not meant to be a lesson in prosperity theology. Instead, what I found interesting in Oprah's talk were the ways that she reclaimed religious language in an almost feminist way.

I expected her to sermonize about how important it is that we [as women] give up control of our lives to God. This is a fairly typical viewpoint in Christian theology. In fact, there are numerous worship songs that are popular in churches today with lines like "less of me; more of You," "I decrease so He increases," etc.

The problem with this theology, particularly for women, is that it encourages us to literally become less of ourselves. For some women, this can manifest itself, quite literally, in anorexia. For others, it appears in a quiet meekness, a hesitancy about ourselves, an overall lack of self-confidence, or worse, a deep manifestation of self-loathing.

In truth, if we become nothing, we remain nothing. God is a God who works through responsive, active human beings. Consequently, I believe that when we become more of our true selves, we embrace God's transformational power. When we love ourselves, we are able to love others. When we love what God has created in us, we are more able to create positive change in the world.

And this is essentially what Oprah told the crowd. When she let go of the Color Purple role and gave it up to God, she was saying, "I've done my part. Now it is up to the universe." She didn't say, "I became nothing, so that God could be something."

She didn't discredit the importance of her own agency in this process. In fact, she said that she never would have gotten the part had she not practiced, auditioned, and made the follow-up phone call.

This is so different from the author friend of mine, who, when she got offered an incredible 2-book deal from her publisher said to me, "Well, I didn't do anything. It was all God."

Now let me be clear. I'm not against giving God credit. I just think it's important that we, as women, recognize the vital importance of our human agency in creating positive change in the world.

Oprah puts it this way: "Every morning, I pray that God will show me how I can do something greater than myself."