Here's a topic no one expected me to dust off the keyboard for: guns. Where did this come from? I just had a disturbing conversation with someone I love very much. As we were talking on the phone, I brought up an article I had just seen about a father who shot his teenage son and killed him, having mistaken him for an intruder. I'm not sure what I said exactly, but this person started going on about how it's not guns, but stupid people who are using guns wrong (we've never heard that before!) who kill people with guns. She wants her husband to get a gun, because something about it being a crazy world. I asked her to explain to me--rhetoric aside--what purpose having a gun would serve. What actual good would it do? She became incredibly defensive, spouting unlikely scenarios where an intruder breaks in and her husband has time to go the back of his closet or whatever safe place he's safely keeping his gun, put it together, load it, point it at the intruder and scare him away. Wow. Yes, she thinks this is logical. And she's not alone. She also told me, "I'm never going to be on your side on this." Because this is about sides? And because if it were, the side of logic and reason isn't the side you want to be on? You want to be on the side of irrationality and fear? Hence, my feeling disturbed and upset enough to feel like addressing this topic right here, right now.
First, let's get this out of the way. You owning a gun because you want to own a gun is not a constitutionally protected right. The constitution protected the rights of southern states to use armed slave patrols ("well regulated militia") to keep the slaves from rising up against the barbarians who thought it was their right to own and use and abuse other human beings. Check out this article, and this one, too.
Now, let's get down to it. Why the fuck do you need to own a gun? Really. Do you think you're safer with a gun? You're not. Not at all. Sure, you'll hear stories about the guy who scared away the would-be burglar or convenience store robber. That's what they call "anecdotal evidence," the exception that is always inevitable, but does not disprove the rule--it just gives you a way to rationalize your irrational beliefs. Studies have shown that gun ownership makes you less safe. If you believe having a gun makes your home safer, you are believing a fairytale written to purposely mislead you. Check out this article, which links to a whole bunch of studies brought together to completely debunk The Myth of the Good Guy with a Gun. So no, you're not safer. Quite the opposite.
Okay, so... why the fuck to you need to own a gun? Are you protecting yourself from a police state? The government? Aw, that's cute. When's the last time you remember reading about some innocent Joe Citizen winning a shoot out with the police? I'm pretty sure you haven't. I'm also pretty sure nobody in the government is breaking a sweat over those crazy militia guys in the woods with their rifles, ready to take down "the government". Cuz the government's just gonna carpet bomb your ass and call it a day. And speaking of protecting ourselves from the police: Did you know that several far more progressive countries than ours do not have a militarized police force? Yep, in England, Ireland, New Zealand, Norway, and Iceland, police officers are unarmed and actually see their job to be to protect and serve their fellow citizens. Look it up. And seriously, imagine how much safer for people of color to not have a bunch of racist white guys who literally have a license to kill (aka a badge) seemingly lurking around every corner.
Maybe you're about to tell me you're a hunter. I'm vegan, and clearly have other feelings about that aside from this issue. Whatever. You hunt for your food. For purposes of this little discussion let's allow hunting rifles for that. There aren't that many people who hunt anyway, and you don't need a handgun or a semiautomatic weapon for that. Moving on.
Guns make us less safe. Their purpose is to kill. That's it. They're not just like any other weapon. Lots of things can be used in harmful ways, but the one purpose that guns are created for is to harm. A guy with a knife can't do the same kind of damage that a guy with a gun can. And you can't really believe people will just find other weapons to use, like bombs (I actually heard this one today!). A dude gets in a fight with his wife, he's not gonna go build a bomb in a fit of rage (usually). And he's not gonna go for the dirty bomb in his glove box because you cut him off in traffic. But he does go for his gun because it's oh-so easy. Guns are unique in their ease of use and capacity for destruction. (And yes, I'm saying "guy" and "dude" and "his" purposely because on a separate but related topic, it's male violence that's a very real and pervasive problem in our society.)
Guns make stupid people do even more stupid things. Bad things. Deadly things. Even not-so-stupid, otherwise good and well-intentioned people with guns make way for really bad things to happen. Like little kids accidentally shooting each other. Guns are not good. How does this even need to be said? "Guns don't kill people, people kill people." What a load of crap. When's the last time you heard someone say, "Heroin doesn't kill people, people kill themselves!" Come on now.
Why do you want a gun? Really. Ask yourself why you want a gun, why you think you need a gun, or deserve a gun. I'm not talking about what I think laws should be or how much regulation there should be or anything like that. I'm asking why a good person would want to own a gun. What makes a good person think they need something that puts themselves and their family at greater risk for homicide and suicide? What makes a good person want to own something created for the sole purpose of doing harm? What or who is making people so fearful for their safety that they think they need to own something that actually makes them less safe? Can we please get a little common sense up in here?
Thursday, January 14, 2016
Monday, June 15, 2015
Razor Reboot 2.0
Not so much a reboot as a tweaking. Today I updated my blog description. I'm storing the old one here for posterity...
"Spiritual insights and political and social commentary from a passionate thirty-something interfaith/interspiritual seminarian, feminist, vegan, magickal, rational, hetero-partnered queer woman whose native tongue is that of a merchant marine. Enter at your own risk."
Thursday, January 15, 2015
On Jesus...
Oh, Jesus…
Remember that line in Pretty Woman where Richard Gere’s character says to Julia Roberts’ character, “What’s your name?” and she says, “What do you want it to be?” I think of that when I think of Jesus. Or to put it another way, Reza Aslan, in his book new book, Zealot, says, “Scholars tend to see the Jesus they want to see. Too often they see themselves--their own reflection--in the image of Jesus they have constructed” (p. xxxi). It ain’t just scholars, my friends.
Over the last month, I read Meeting Jesus Again for the First Time by Marcus Borg, as well as about a third of the book Zealot which I quoted above, and a few chapters of Imaginary Jesus, a humorous novel of sorts written by an evangelical Christian pastor. Of course this was not my first, nor my only exposure to Jesus. I grew up with Jesus as “my personal Lord and savior.” I chose to be baptized in a pentecostal church as a teenager. I even went to Bible college for a brief and painful semester. Over the years I’ve read books by esoteric philosopher Richard Smoley and Aramaic scholar Neil Douglas-Klotz, among others. During our month of studying Christianity last year, I watched a Discovery Channel documentary on the historical Jesus several times. Etc. etc. ad nauseam.
Here’s the thing: Despite the libraries full of books and and movies about him and all the churches and theologians and lay people who devote their lives to Jesus, there’s little, if anything, really, that we can know about this guy around whom one of the largest religions in the world has been created. In fact, there are some scholars who doubt even the existence of such a person at all. Almost all of the biographical information we have for Jesus is not historical in the way we understand history, but is indeed mythological. In fact, most of Jesus’ supposed unique biography existed centuries prior to him in the biographies of pagan gods and sages. And yet, there are those who believe every detail in the Bible about the life of this mythological creature we call Jesus--even those details that contradict each other. These same folks will tell you that Jesus was and is real, that he is God incarnate who existed before the beginning of time, died to forgive our sins, that believing in the the magical details they claim about him is the only way to get to Heaven and avoid eternal torment in a lake of fire… and all that jazz.
There’s been so much hype built up over a guy who, assuming he did exist, was a poor Jewish peasant living in occupied territory, fed up to the point of being willing to risk his own life over the oppression of his people at the hands of his colonizers and the collusion and corruption among the wealthy and priestly classes within his own religion! And in case you didn’t know, there’s nothing unique about any of this, either. Jesus would have lived during a time of extreme political and social unrest, with revolutionary messengers and “messiahs” popping up all over the place. Was there something unique about the message Jesus shared? Or was the Jesus that got passed down and built up over the centuries a conglomeration of many such preachers, messiahs, and martyrs, becoming over time all that people wanted to hold onto and believe in?
Ultimately, for most of us, Jesus is whoever it is that we want Jesus to be. I have decided that I want Jesus to be a combination of the Jesus that Marcus Borg and Neil Douglas-Klotz teach about. That’s because they illuminate a Jesus that I aspire to be like--revolutionary, justice-seeking/making, a mystic deeply connected to Source. I can rock on with that Jesus! Douglas-Klotz presents a Jesus who had a non-dual understanding of and relationship with Alaha--Sacred Unity, The One Without Opposite, what we call God--and was a mystic deeply immersed in that Reality. Borg describes Jesus as a spirit person, “a person to whom the sacred is an experiential reality.” He says spirit people are “people who experience the sacred frequently and vividly,” and that “they are delegates of the tribe to another layer of reality, mediators who connect their communities to the Spirit” (p. 32-33). He sums up his understanding of Jesus, describing him as “a spirit person, subversive sage, social prophet, and movement founder who invited his followers and hearers into a transforming relationship with the same Spirit that he himself knew, and into a community whose social vision was shaped by the core value of compassion” (p. 119). Sign me up! I want to be that!
To be clear, it doesn’t matter to me whether or not this person actually existed in history. The concept of this person is enough. The influence of the concept of this person is enough. I am not tied to historical, matter-of-fact truth as being the only kind of truth. There’s metaphorical and mythological truth that points to a big-”T” Truth, or Wisdom that is transcendent. I can find strength, inspiration, wisdom, and so much more from our modern-day fictional mythologies like The Matrix, Star Wars, and Buffy the Vampire Slayer just as well as from the ancient religions, and I often do. So my essential answer to whether or not Jesus existed, should anyone ask, would be, “Who cares?”
The Jesus I choose to believe in is one who, if followed, would make me and the world a better place--more loving, compassionate, just, and deeply connected to Source and each other. I’m not sure anything else really matters.
* * * * * * * * * *
Persephone's Pick:
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Loving My Neighbor As Myself
The vast majority of us, Christian or not, are familiar with what Jesus called one of the two greatest commandments: Love your neighbor as yourself. I suspect few people take the time to think about what this really means and how truly difficult it is. The commandment truly is great in that to do so is a great challenge and has great consequences if truly put into practice.
My heart has been aching in the wake of the Michael Brown shooting in Ferguson, MO, the John Crawford shooting in Dayton, OH, and so many others, in a way it never has before. I have been aware of racial discrimination and the systemic racism inherent in our systems of governance and "justice" for years now. But it's never felt personal to me like it does now. What has changed? About 8 months ago, this white woman who has lived her entire life in a very white bubble moved into a neighborhood where about 90% of her neighbors are African American. No, I didn't do it on purpose to try to prove how color blind I am or what a good white ally I am. No, I didn't do it as an experiment or for material for a good blog post. I simply wasn't familiar with the city to which I was moving.
I have had Black friends for most of my adult life. But there is something very different about having Black friends within the framework of your very white bubble where you are still the majority, as opposed to being in a place where you are now the minority, feeling so uncomfortable and so conspicuously white, seeing the funny looks you get as you walk down the street, having teenage boys call you "snowflake" when you walk by... essentially occupying the space of 'other.' And while I may stick out like a sore thumb and be so far outside my comfort zone it's almost comical, I can say that I feel safer in this neighborhood than I have almost anywhere else I've lived in the last 10 years. My neighbors have, for the most part, been kind, friendly, and gracious. My neighbors.
MY neighbors. This, I believe, is why I feel the pain of what is happening to the Black community at the hands of law enforcement so much more deeply and personally than I ever have felt about racial injustice. Because it's no longer an abstract idea--it's my community and my neighbors. I experience the fact that, despite how nice the neighborhood is, the grocery store doesn't carry a lick of organic produce, and there's an armed security guard in a bullet-proof jacket guarding the entrance/exit. This isn't abstract anymore. It's not academic or even trying to do or say the right thing. It's my community, my neighbors. Once a week I volunteer at the abortion clinic down the street, escorting women into the building, shielding them from protesters. Women of all races and backgrounds come to the clinic, and many of them are African American. But almost all the protesters are white men, hurling racially targeted verbal assaults at them, and I can only imagine the pain and trauma being inflicted. And I am angry. Because these are my sisters. These are my neighbors.
It's pretty easy to love your neighbor when they look like you and experience the world in relatively the same manner that you do. It's a lot harder when you are a white person living in an inherently racist society, living in a shelter of white privilege (yes, even poor whites have white privilege), to really get the whole "love your neighbor as yourself" thing when it comes to what is happening in Black communities all over the country. I was listening to NPR the other day, and they were interviewing a DJ from the St. Louis/Ferguson area who had opened the airwaves to callers after the Michael Brown shooting. At one point in the interview, he made the observation that so many of the (white) officers who are policing communities like Ferguson are not actually a part of the community. They live somewhere else, presumably in the comfort of their white suburban homes and neighborhoods, then suit up to police communities that are not their own, communities filled with people who look different from them, and whose experience of the world is very different. They come in to enforce the law on those they perceive as "the other," and the other is always lesser-than.
I feel in my heart, more now than I ever have, what I have known in my head for a long time: We are One. Please understand, that doesn't mean I claim to understand what it's like to be African American. It doesn't mean I'm claiming to be color blind (and please don't tell me you are). It means that I care deeply, in a way I never have before, what happens to people who are different from me. Because even though we look different and have different experiences, we are all human beings. We are neighbors. We are connected to each other through community, and on a deeper level, through the cells in our bodies and the Spirit living through us. We are One. I feel the pain of injustice. I take it personally. Because you belong to me and I belong to you.
I encourage everyone whose experience is of that of the privileged majority (whether that be white, straight, male, wealthy) to go within and ask how you might move outside your comfort zone to expand your circle of love and compassion on a deeper level, to make "the other" your neighbor, so that we might, one by one, live ourselves into a world where we truly get that everyone is our neighbor, and more fully love and care for all of humanity as ourselves.
My heart has been aching in the wake of the Michael Brown shooting in Ferguson, MO, the John Crawford shooting in Dayton, OH, and so many others, in a way it never has before. I have been aware of racial discrimination and the systemic racism inherent in our systems of governance and "justice" for years now. But it's never felt personal to me like it does now. What has changed? About 8 months ago, this white woman who has lived her entire life in a very white bubble moved into a neighborhood where about 90% of her neighbors are African American. No, I didn't do it on purpose to try to prove how color blind I am or what a good white ally I am. No, I didn't do it as an experiment or for material for a good blog post. I simply wasn't familiar with the city to which I was moving.
I have had Black friends for most of my adult life. But there is something very different about having Black friends within the framework of your very white bubble where you are still the majority, as opposed to being in a place where you are now the minority, feeling so uncomfortable and so conspicuously white, seeing the funny looks you get as you walk down the street, having teenage boys call you "snowflake" when you walk by... essentially occupying the space of 'other.' And while I may stick out like a sore thumb and be so far outside my comfort zone it's almost comical, I can say that I feel safer in this neighborhood than I have almost anywhere else I've lived in the last 10 years. My neighbors have, for the most part, been kind, friendly, and gracious. My neighbors.
MY neighbors. This, I believe, is why I feel the pain of what is happening to the Black community at the hands of law enforcement so much more deeply and personally than I ever have felt about racial injustice. Because it's no longer an abstract idea--it's my community and my neighbors. I experience the fact that, despite how nice the neighborhood is, the grocery store doesn't carry a lick of organic produce, and there's an armed security guard in a bullet-proof jacket guarding the entrance/exit. This isn't abstract anymore. It's not academic or even trying to do or say the right thing. It's my community, my neighbors. Once a week I volunteer at the abortion clinic down the street, escorting women into the building, shielding them from protesters. Women of all races and backgrounds come to the clinic, and many of them are African American. But almost all the protesters are white men, hurling racially targeted verbal assaults at them, and I can only imagine the pain and trauma being inflicted. And I am angry. Because these are my sisters. These are my neighbors.
It's pretty easy to love your neighbor when they look like you and experience the world in relatively the same manner that you do. It's a lot harder when you are a white person living in an inherently racist society, living in a shelter of white privilege (yes, even poor whites have white privilege), to really get the whole "love your neighbor as yourself" thing when it comes to what is happening in Black communities all over the country. I was listening to NPR the other day, and they were interviewing a DJ from the St. Louis/Ferguson area who had opened the airwaves to callers after the Michael Brown shooting. At one point in the interview, he made the observation that so many of the (white) officers who are policing communities like Ferguson are not actually a part of the community. They live somewhere else, presumably in the comfort of their white suburban homes and neighborhoods, then suit up to police communities that are not their own, communities filled with people who look different from them, and whose experience of the world is very different. They come in to enforce the law on those they perceive as "the other," and the other is always lesser-than.
I feel in my heart, more now than I ever have, what I have known in my head for a long time: We are One. Please understand, that doesn't mean I claim to understand what it's like to be African American. It doesn't mean I'm claiming to be color blind (and please don't tell me you are). It means that I care deeply, in a way I never have before, what happens to people who are different from me. Because even though we look different and have different experiences, we are all human beings. We are neighbors. We are connected to each other through community, and on a deeper level, through the cells in our bodies and the Spirit living through us. We are One. I feel the pain of injustice. I take it personally. Because you belong to me and I belong to you.
I encourage everyone whose experience is of that of the privileged majority (whether that be white, straight, male, wealthy) to go within and ask how you might move outside your comfort zone to expand your circle of love and compassion on a deeper level, to make "the other" your neighbor, so that we might, one by one, live ourselves into a world where we truly get that everyone is our neighbor, and more fully love and care for all of humanity as ourselves.
Friday, June 13, 2014
Thoughts On Higher Education
Would you care to guess how many different schools I have attended since high school? Twelve. This includes both two and four-year programs, accredited and not, as well as vocational and specialized training programs. I have an associate's degree from a community college, an unaccredited bachelor's degree in Contemporary Spirituality, an accredited bachelor's degree in Humanities (the most specific major I could come up with when I put together all my earned credits from 5 other colleges/universities), a certificate in Nutrition, Bodycare, and Herbalism, and certification as a Life-Cycle Celebrant. I am currently a student at One Spirit Interfaith Seminary and I will be ordained as an Interfaith/Interspiritual Minister in June 2015.
You may be wondering why I'm telling you this, and I've probably already lost half of the four people who started reading this post to begin with. (Kudos to the two of you still reading.) I've been thinking a lot about the value of higher education. I only just received my accredited bachelor's degree a year and a half ago at the age of 36. I have friends in their late 30s and early 40s struggling with whether or not to go back to school for a degree. I watch brilliant, successful women struggle with their worth because of their lack of a piece of paper that society tells us is so important. I also watch friends with teenagers struggle with helping their kids make decisions about their futures that I don't believe most teenagers are even close to being able to make. I've watched the cost of attending college increase by 2 and a half times the rate of inflation in this country. I have friends whose every major decision in life seems to be influenced by the fact that they are strapped with student loan payments of multiple hundreds of dollars every month. And recently, my husband who has no more than a technologically outdated associate's degree and a couple of years of liberal arts courses got a promotion at work, where he is happy and thriving and making more per hour than I ever have.
I come from a family where there is a huge emphasis on higher education. Almost all of the cousins I grew up with have a minimum of a master's degree, and many are now teachers. My sister also has a master's degree and works in a specialized field within public and private schools. Simply by association, I have felt the pressure to conform, to get the pieces of paper that say I'm good enough. And although I consider myself to be pretty intelligent and I love learning, even in the context of traditional academia, I don't jump through hoops well, nor am I good at conforming to the expectations of others or what I perceive to be artificially constructed hierarchical systems of accreditation and approval. In recent years, my struggle to try to fit into somebody else's box has been excruciating.
The whole point of officially getting my accredited bachelor's degree was because after many years of fighting it or ignoring it, I decided to say "yes" to the call to ministry that I have heard my entire life. I believed the only way to do that was to affiliate with a particular denomination (pick a box) and get a Master of Divinity (M.Div). This degree is the equivalent of about two to three masters of arts degrees combined, costs $60,000 to $100,000, and from the tales I've heard from people who have gone through it (and experiences I've had with ministers who have earned their "proper" credentials), doesn't do a whole hell of a lot to prepare people for actual ministry. When I look back at my time as a young adult attending retreats and conferences with other Unitarian Universalist young adults back in the day, I realize that the most lackluster worship experiences were those led by seminarians. When I finally allowed myself to think outside the box, my life opened up in ways I never would have dreamed. I am now mid-way through a ministerial training program that is taking me on a growth journey I never could have anticipated, and is preparing me better or as well for true ministry as I can imagine anything possibly could. And I will finish this program having accumulated no debt, and paying only a tiny fraction of what that golden M.Div would have cost me.
Now, I am not opposed to higher education. In fact, all of my college experiences were important in their own ways--some because of what I learned in the classroom, some because of the relationships I formed, others because of all the learning that happened outside the classroom. I do believe that a liberal arts education is incredibly valuable. It opens people's minds and exposes them to new ways of thinking and learning and seeing the world. This is not the kind of value that has a dollar sign attached to it. Higher education is also important for people who have very specific career aspirations. My sister is a Speech and Language Pathologist, a profession which requires a master's for certification and licensure. She knew what she wanted to be, she did what she had to do, and I'm super proud of her. My brother, on the other hand, struggled through a BA in philosophy from an expensive private liberal arts college. Believe me, I think everyone should study philosophy. But I'll never forget the little cartoon hanging on the wall of one of my favorite professors. The cartoon read, "Careers in philosophy:" with a picture of a stick figure in a graduation cap pushing a janitor's broom. My brother went on to learn to fly airplanes and is now a pilot. I'm also super proud of him. The most professionally valuable educational experience and credential I have earned to date is my certification as a Life-Cycle Celebrant. A Specialized 6 month program that cost about $2,200 total.
So here's what I have to say about higher education for anyone who cares what my opinion is on the subject. College degrees in this day and age are over priced and overrated. Not everyone needs a college degree, and a college degree does not guarantee you a better life or more income in your lifetime. Community colleges are under valued and under utilized. I'm all for kids spending a few years after high school exploring their interests, taking some classes in a variety of subjects, and getting a little life experience under their belts before saddling themselves or their parents with crippling student loan debt for a degree that may or may not amount to much financial value. Non-traditional forms of education are also seriously under utilized and underrated. We need more creative thinkers and people who are finding that sweet spot between what the world needs and what makes their heart sing. We also need people to do the jobs that don't require degrees, jobs that require intelligence and talent and a good personality, but are jobs that people with degrees think themselves to be above doing. We even need people to do the jobs that require little intelligence or training, but they require time and effort, and we should pay people well for their time and effort. To receive specialized training for something you love and are good at is an awesome thing. Think outside the box. Listen to what your heart is telling you, if you can, over the roar of what society tells you you need to do to have worth. Do some research, think for yourself, and challenge systems of authority.
If education were free in this country (as it is in, for example, the Scandinavian countries), I'd say everyone should get a college education. But just like healthcare in this country, it's turned into quite the racket, keeping Americans bogged down in debt, nose to the grindstone. Because God forbid we weren't strapped with debt, had time to think about what matters most to us and the world, and had time and energy to do something about it.
You may be wondering why I'm telling you this, and I've probably already lost half of the four people who started reading this post to begin with. (Kudos to the two of you still reading.) I've been thinking a lot about the value of higher education. I only just received my accredited bachelor's degree a year and a half ago at the age of 36. I have friends in their late 30s and early 40s struggling with whether or not to go back to school for a degree. I watch brilliant, successful women struggle with their worth because of their lack of a piece of paper that society tells us is so important. I also watch friends with teenagers struggle with helping their kids make decisions about their futures that I don't believe most teenagers are even close to being able to make. I've watched the cost of attending college increase by 2 and a half times the rate of inflation in this country. I have friends whose every major decision in life seems to be influenced by the fact that they are strapped with student loan payments of multiple hundreds of dollars every month. And recently, my husband who has no more than a technologically outdated associate's degree and a couple of years of liberal arts courses got a promotion at work, where he is happy and thriving and making more per hour than I ever have.
I come from a family where there is a huge emphasis on higher education. Almost all of the cousins I grew up with have a minimum of a master's degree, and many are now teachers. My sister also has a master's degree and works in a specialized field within public and private schools. Simply by association, I have felt the pressure to conform, to get the pieces of paper that say I'm good enough. And although I consider myself to be pretty intelligent and I love learning, even in the context of traditional academia, I don't jump through hoops well, nor am I good at conforming to the expectations of others or what I perceive to be artificially constructed hierarchical systems of accreditation and approval. In recent years, my struggle to try to fit into somebody else's box has been excruciating.
The whole point of officially getting my accredited bachelor's degree was because after many years of fighting it or ignoring it, I decided to say "yes" to the call to ministry that I have heard my entire life. I believed the only way to do that was to affiliate with a particular denomination (pick a box) and get a Master of Divinity (M.Div). This degree is the equivalent of about two to three masters of arts degrees combined, costs $60,000 to $100,000, and from the tales I've heard from people who have gone through it (and experiences I've had with ministers who have earned their "proper" credentials), doesn't do a whole hell of a lot to prepare people for actual ministry. When I look back at my time as a young adult attending retreats and conferences with other Unitarian Universalist young adults back in the day, I realize that the most lackluster worship experiences were those led by seminarians. When I finally allowed myself to think outside the box, my life opened up in ways I never would have dreamed. I am now mid-way through a ministerial training program that is taking me on a growth journey I never could have anticipated, and is preparing me better or as well for true ministry as I can imagine anything possibly could. And I will finish this program having accumulated no debt, and paying only a tiny fraction of what that golden M.Div would have cost me.
Now, I am not opposed to higher education. In fact, all of my college experiences were important in their own ways--some because of what I learned in the classroom, some because of the relationships I formed, others because of all the learning that happened outside the classroom. I do believe that a liberal arts education is incredibly valuable. It opens people's minds and exposes them to new ways of thinking and learning and seeing the world. This is not the kind of value that has a dollar sign attached to it. Higher education is also important for people who have very specific career aspirations. My sister is a Speech and Language Pathologist, a profession which requires a master's for certification and licensure. She knew what she wanted to be, she did what she had to do, and I'm super proud of her. My brother, on the other hand, struggled through a BA in philosophy from an expensive private liberal arts college. Believe me, I think everyone should study philosophy. But I'll never forget the little cartoon hanging on the wall of one of my favorite professors. The cartoon read, "Careers in philosophy:" with a picture of a stick figure in a graduation cap pushing a janitor's broom. My brother went on to learn to fly airplanes and is now a pilot. I'm also super proud of him. The most professionally valuable educational experience and credential I have earned to date is my certification as a Life-Cycle Celebrant. A Specialized 6 month program that cost about $2,200 total.
So here's what I have to say about higher education for anyone who cares what my opinion is on the subject. College degrees in this day and age are over priced and overrated. Not everyone needs a college degree, and a college degree does not guarantee you a better life or more income in your lifetime. Community colleges are under valued and under utilized. I'm all for kids spending a few years after high school exploring their interests, taking some classes in a variety of subjects, and getting a little life experience under their belts before saddling themselves or their parents with crippling student loan debt for a degree that may or may not amount to much financial value. Non-traditional forms of education are also seriously under utilized and underrated. We need more creative thinkers and people who are finding that sweet spot between what the world needs and what makes their heart sing. We also need people to do the jobs that don't require degrees, jobs that require intelligence and talent and a good personality, but are jobs that people with degrees think themselves to be above doing. We even need people to do the jobs that require little intelligence or training, but they require time and effort, and we should pay people well for their time and effort. To receive specialized training for something you love and are good at is an awesome thing. Think outside the box. Listen to what your heart is telling you, if you can, over the roar of what society tells you you need to do to have worth. Do some research, think for yourself, and challenge systems of authority.
If education were free in this country (as it is in, for example, the Scandinavian countries), I'd say everyone should get a college education. But just like healthcare in this country, it's turned into quite the racket, keeping Americans bogged down in debt, nose to the grindstone. Because God forbid we weren't strapped with debt, had time to think about what matters most to us and the world, and had time and energy to do something about it.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Doing Forgiveness
The following is an essay I very recently wrote for a project that one of my classmates and dear friends put together as a sort of yearbook for our 1st year class of seminarians at One Spirit...
Forgiveness is a fucking bitch, man. It’s also the Holy-Mother-Fucking-Grail. I had always thought of myself as a compassionate person because I’m vegan, I’m passionate about a number of social and environmental justice causes, and I have that super-hero, Leo personality that makes me think I’m destined to do great things in the world. I must be compassionate! Doesn’t having the desire to do the good or right thing and to make the world a better place constitute compassion?
When I really spent some time reflecting on forgiveness and what it takes to be a forgiving person, I realized that compassion and forgiveness go hand-in-hand. And man, was I one wretched, unforgiving son-of-a-bitch. Matthew Fox (one of my favorite theologians ever) says this of compassion: “Compassion is not sentiment but is making justice and doing works of mercy. Compassion is not a moral commandment but a flow and overflow of the fullest human and divine energies.” I got the first part about making justice. I’m not sure I really got the mercy part. And I was certainly living my life according to moral commandments. What I have recently come to understand is something about the “flow and overflow of the fullest human and divine energies.”
A Course in Miracles defines forgiveness as the healing of the belief in separation. I’m not sure I would define compassion much differently. When I truly opened myself to forgiveness, to understanding others as no different from myself, to accept the profound capacity we ALL have for fucking shit up, some profound shifts began taking place in my life. Some of it has involved some pretty intense Cosmic ass-whoopings, which I’m pretty sure were, if not well-deserved, at least necessary for beating the lessons through my thick skull (trust me, it’s thick). Some of it has been mind-blowingly wonderful. It has been healing and gratifying. I’ve seen myself break some pretty unhealthy patterns of behavior--rooted in separation, aka unforgiveness, aka a lack of compassion--that I had been repeating for years.
I’ve taken some scary steps to have some brave conversations that I never would have had before. I would have taken my damn ball and gone home and fuck-you-very-much. This, I’ve done in the past, and I now live with the regret of letting go of some deeply meaningful relationships because, how dare you mistreat me? How dare you not live up to my expectations?? How dare you be a flawed human being… like ME??? I’m learning that this forgiveness thing is not a one-time thing. It’s an attitude, an awareness, a way of being in the world and a way of DOING in the world. It is the way of compassion, and the only way to love. As I’ve started doing the hard work of accepting others in their flawed and beautiful humanity, it has enabled me to begin accepting my own broken, beautiful self. And WOW.
Forgiveness is a fucking bitch, man. It’s also the Holy-Mother-Fucking-Grail. I had always thought of myself as a compassionate person because I’m vegan, I’m passionate about a number of social and environmental justice causes, and I have that super-hero, Leo personality that makes me think I’m destined to do great things in the world. I must be compassionate! Doesn’t having the desire to do the good or right thing and to make the world a better place constitute compassion?
When I really spent some time reflecting on forgiveness and what it takes to be a forgiving person, I realized that compassion and forgiveness go hand-in-hand. And man, was I one wretched, unforgiving son-of-a-bitch. Matthew Fox (one of my favorite theologians ever) says this of compassion: “Compassion is not sentiment but is making justice and doing works of mercy. Compassion is not a moral commandment but a flow and overflow of the fullest human and divine energies.” I got the first part about making justice. I’m not sure I really got the mercy part. And I was certainly living my life according to moral commandments. What I have recently come to understand is something about the “flow and overflow of the fullest human and divine energies.”
A Course in Miracles defines forgiveness as the healing of the belief in separation. I’m not sure I would define compassion much differently. When I truly opened myself to forgiveness, to understanding others as no different from myself, to accept the profound capacity we ALL have for fucking shit up, some profound shifts began taking place in my life. Some of it has involved some pretty intense Cosmic ass-whoopings, which I’m pretty sure were, if not well-deserved, at least necessary for beating the lessons through my thick skull (trust me, it’s thick). Some of it has been mind-blowingly wonderful. It has been healing and gratifying. I’ve seen myself break some pretty unhealthy patterns of behavior--rooted in separation, aka unforgiveness, aka a lack of compassion--that I had been repeating for years.
I’ve taken some scary steps to have some brave conversations that I never would have had before. I would have taken my damn ball and gone home and fuck-you-very-much. This, I’ve done in the past, and I now live with the regret of letting go of some deeply meaningful relationships because, how dare you mistreat me? How dare you not live up to my expectations?? How dare you be a flawed human being… like ME??? I’m learning that this forgiveness thing is not a one-time thing. It’s an attitude, an awareness, a way of being in the world and a way of DOING in the world. It is the way of compassion, and the only way to love. As I’ve started doing the hard work of accepting others in their flawed and beautiful humanity, it has enabled me to begin accepting my own broken, beautiful self. And WOW.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
Razor Reboot
This blog is about to get a reboot. It's time to start blogging again and for real. I could have started a new blog, but I like this one. Anything written before 2014 was from Consciousness Razor 1.0 and the blog was described as follows:
Political, social and spiritual commentary from a passionate thirty-something feminist, vegan, angry, peace-loving, magickal, rational, hetero-partnered queer woman. Enter at your own risk.
"Feminism is not simply about achieving the power and status typically held by men. It's about protecting and supporting the rights of women of all classes, races, cultures, and beliefs."
"Veganism is compassion in action. It is a philosophy, diet, and lifestyle."
I'm proud of the little bit I've written before now, but I have been stepping more fully into who I am, and it's time for that to be reflected in my writing. Don't worry, it'll still be brash and full of profanity and unapologetically opinionated, because that's me. But as my first year of seminary nears completion, it is time for me to start exercising my ministerial writing chops. There will still be lots of feminism, veganism, some politics and other juicy stuff... it's just that the lens will be a little different, or perhaps simply more refined.
And so it begins...
Political, social and spiritual commentary from a passionate thirty-something feminist, vegan, angry, peace-loving, magickal, rational, hetero-partnered queer woman. Enter at your own risk.
"Feminism is not simply about achieving the power and status typically held by men. It's about protecting and supporting the rights of women of all classes, races, cultures, and beliefs."
"Veganism is compassion in action. It is a philosophy, diet, and lifestyle."
I'm proud of the little bit I've written before now, but I have been stepping more fully into who I am, and it's time for that to be reflected in my writing. Don't worry, it'll still be brash and full of profanity and unapologetically opinionated, because that's me. But as my first year of seminary nears completion, it is time for me to start exercising my ministerial writing chops. There will still be lots of feminism, veganism, some politics and other juicy stuff... it's just that the lens will be a little different, or perhaps simply more refined.
And so it begins...
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