My last post Second Class Citizen was a plea to vote no on the Minnesota constitutional amendments being proposed: a limiting of the definition of marriage and Voter ID. I’d like to say “Thank You” that both measures were defeated in Minnesota.
I truly believe both proposed amendments would be a limit on individual freedoms that I hold dear. Last Tuesday made me proud to be a citizen of this great state and our great nation. Minnesota, you made me proud.
Our freedom and liberty are at risk. During this election, the biggest threat to America is not coming from outside the US in the guise of foreign terrorists or an invading army; it comes from within America itself. In Minnesota two amendments are proposed to change my state’s constitution, but this threat is also on the ballot in many other states across the US this year.
Both threats are an attempt to get an electoral majority to limit the rights and freedoms of a smaller group of Americans. In our brief history as a nation, through countless struggles by courageous people our democracy has learned how to protect the rights of certain minorities. Those struggles have led me to believe that an experienced democracy learns how to protect and value minority rights; a less mature democracy threatens and controls the rights of minority groups.
I was deeply saddened and angry by the Sikh Gurdwara (temple) shooting. I wrote the post I Wear a Kara in its wake. In the discussion that followed I understood that I didn’t quite fully achieve what I was hoping to.
How did I go astray? I focused time and energy on how Sikh’s are different than Muslims, instead of focusing on the real problems: racism, hatred and misunderstanding. In my own case, I was stifled by my own blind spot: white privilege.
 Twitter user @sikhknowledge sums it up for me |
I spent time in my post on how Sikh’s are different. I never should have gone there. I’d like to say we’re all the same: people, families, trying to survive, trying to pray, celebrate life. I want everyone to be treated as equals to the point that I force myself to believe we are all equals – even though we’re not.
I wish the world where a place where all men were treated the same; all women were treated the same as men; all religions were seen as paths of love and a celebration of life with one another: but the world is not that place. Sometimes I want it so bad I try to believe that all men are equal (and all the rest above): but then I get my white privilege blind spot. The world is not an equal place. Further, I’m in the top dominant, privileged position.
Respect is something I strive for in other people’s belief systems: if they’re different than my own or even within my own faith. I try to respect those of different faiths, as well as those who seem to have no faith, whether they be atheist or agnostic (it seems a growing number of people are).
Lately I’ve been bombarded by postings where people seem to degrade those who have faith in a religion or belief system. The underlying tone is people of faith are stupid (paraphrasing the inference). I have trouble with this. To me stupidity comes in degrading someone else’s beliefs, not from a person who believes something you don’t.
I understand there is a tremendous movement going on in backlash to the religious [often Christian] right (at least in the images being thrown at me). Maybe you find these belief systems oppressive to women, the poor, the lower classes. Maybe you think mankind has been fooled into belief systems through man-made power structures or in some way taking advantage of a human need to believe or belong to something. Maybe you believe in nothing but science.
Denigrating others however is not the way to live a life.
By Jen Foley. This is a guest post from a good friend of mine. It originally appeared on Facebook and is reprinted here with permission.
I guess I need to put a little background down as full disclosure: my baby brother is gay (I never suspected it growing up because I never thought about who my brother would love or find attractive. Eww. Gross. That's my BROTHER.) . My first experience in religion and spirituality was at our Episcopalian church (I've had the opportunity to explore both in many different places since then. I believe.). And I despise confrontation (except with family - sorry, family).
There is a lot of painful dialogue going on in this country, and on Facebook, right now. And name calling. I cannot understand how friends can be so hurtful to one another. Perhaps my words forward will hurt some of my friends, but that is not my intent. I only hope to explain why I get so emotional about this. Remember, I HATE confrontation, but sitting silently just makes me a coward. I admire too many people like Martin Luther King, Jr. and Gandhi to remain so. Anyway. I'm breaking my rule. I'm saying something political before this November's election is done. If you want to discuss this with me - that's fantastic. But if you become cruel, abusive, and will not civilly listen to another person's point of view, I will have to stop the discussion.
I’m not telling a ghost story, not that I don’t have them. It’s true that there were ghosts that frequented the rooms and halls of my college dormitory, but that will have to wait for another time.
There are times I feel haunted by ghosts. Not the kind that go clink in the night, the spirits of the departed, I have a working relationship with them. The ghosts I speak of are my own. They are not external entities, but internal to myself. This is about the ghosts that we carry around with us, the memories that haunt.
When I was growing up, times were different, our nation was different. I would hear jokes, often with racial epithets in them. As the world and I changed, I would grow more and more uncomfortable with what was being said, eventually telling people I didn’t want to hear the jokes. They were offensive. This is one of my ghosts.
