Thank you, Integrity. Watch this film.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Let the pews burn...
A sensational title for a blog post, but one I felt compelled to write nonetheless.
If your church burned to the ground, would "church" die for you and your community? Or would you find new ways of being "church," new ways of worshipping, new ways of proclaiming God to the world?
If we dispensed with our traditional bicameral legislature, or with our top-heavy structural model, would The Episcopal Church cease to exist? With God's help. If TEC keeps looking inward and struggling to "survive," we will die. And good riddance. I am convinced that the world has no need of TEC as currently structured or functioning. The world has need of Episcopalians to get out of their pews and serve the needs of the poor, the hungry, the orphan and the widow.
The Standing Commission on the Mission and Evangelism of The Episcopal Church has issued a wonderful multimedia report to the 77th General Convention, in the form of the written word and video.
Check these out:
Standing Commission on Mission and Evangelism
Equipped for Mission-SCME
Sent for Mission
Organize the Church for Mission
If your church burned to the ground, would "church" die for you and your community? Or would you find new ways of being "church," new ways of worshipping, new ways of proclaiming God to the world?
If we dispensed with our traditional bicameral legislature, or with our top-heavy structural model, would The Episcopal Church cease to exist? With God's help. If TEC keeps looking inward and struggling to "survive," we will die. And good riddance. I am convinced that the world has no need of TEC as currently structured or functioning. The world has need of Episcopalians to get out of their pews and serve the needs of the poor, the hungry, the orphan and the widow.
The Standing Commission on the Mission and Evangelism of The Episcopal Church has issued a wonderful multimedia report to the 77th General Convention, in the form of the written word and video.
Check these out:
Standing Commission on Mission and Evangelism
Equipped for Mission-SCME
Sent for Mission
Organize the Church for Mission
Sunday, June 3, 2012
"Are you married?" "No, I am in covenant."
One of the most anticipated topics and resolutions of discussion at General Convention will be the work of the Standing Commission on Liturgy and Music, who have presented I Will Bless You, and You Will Be a Blessing: Resources for Blessing Same-Gender Relationships.* This is a hefty report of some 96 pages, and I have yet to finish reading all the work. However, to this point, I have several concerns and reservations with what I have read.
These begin with the comments made by a member of one of the churches in the Diocese of Lexington who attended one of the several Town Meetings about General Convention that were hosted at various churches in the diocese. He approached the microphone to share his thoughts about potential blessings of same-gender relationships. I paraphrase:
"To me, it seems that there is as much sense in authorizing a separate rite for blessing of same-gender relationships as there is authorizing a rite for the ordination of women to the diaconate, priesthood, or episcopate. Why not change the language in the marriage rite to make it available for same-gender couples? Creating a separate and different rite is only institutionalizing discrimination and otherness."
His impassioned commentary has been with me as I've read this report from the Standing Commission on Liturgy and Music.
The report includes what I consider to be solid and significant work on the theology of covenant and covenantal relationships. Indeed, I deeply felt the following to be true in reading the report: "Heterosexual people may also find their own vocations and ministries strengthened and empowered in those moments of blessing [of relationships]..." (The Blue Book, page 198)
Similarly, the work of this Standing Committee in this report was to present history, theology, exegesis, and more in effort to provide a thorough discourse on The Episcopal Church's encounter with the topic of safe-gender relationships. However, the report was much more than that. To this point in my reading, I have felt my own vocation to my covenantal relationship with my husband strengthened and blessed. I wish that portions of this report had been available to us when we were going through pre-marital counseling.
The language and theology that I particularly wish we had had available to us for study and discussion was that of "covenantal relationship." The Standing Committee describes covenantal relationship in a variety of ways, including:
*This portion of the report is intended for consideration of the 77th General Convention and for study in preparation for Convention. None of the material in the document is authorized for use in TEC.
"I will bless you and you will be a blessing."
The Abrahamic Covenant
These begin with the comments made by a member of one of the churches in the Diocese of Lexington who attended one of the several Town Meetings about General Convention that were hosted at various churches in the diocese. He approached the microphone to share his thoughts about potential blessings of same-gender relationships. I paraphrase:
"To me, it seems that there is as much sense in authorizing a separate rite for blessing of same-gender relationships as there is authorizing a rite for the ordination of women to the diaconate, priesthood, or episcopate. Why not change the language in the marriage rite to make it available for same-gender couples? Creating a separate and different rite is only institutionalizing discrimination and otherness."
His impassioned commentary has been with me as I've read this report from the Standing Commission on Liturgy and Music.
The report includes what I consider to be solid and significant work on the theology of covenant and covenantal relationships. Indeed, I deeply felt the following to be true in reading the report: "Heterosexual people may also find their own vocations and ministries strengthened and empowered in those moments of blessing [of relationships]..." (The Blue Book, page 198)
Similarly, the work of this Standing Committee in this report was to present history, theology, exegesis, and more in effort to provide a thorough discourse on The Episcopal Church's encounter with the topic of safe-gender relationships. However, the report was much more than that. To this point in my reading, I have felt my own vocation to my covenantal relationship with my husband strengthened and blessed. I wish that portions of this report had been available to us when we were going through pre-marital counseling.
The language and theology that I particularly wish we had had available to us for study and discussion was that of "covenantal relationship." The Standing Committee describes covenantal relationship in a variety of ways, including:
- "love that is self-giving and other-receiving" (205)
- a relationship in which "painful aspects are exposed"(209) but can be healed and made whole
- a relationship that is set apart as "'a sign of Christ's love to this sinful and broken world, that unity may overcome estrangement, forgiveness heal guilt, and joy conquer despair'" (201)
And, the report recalls Resolution D039 from General Convention in 2000, where the characteristics the Church expects to see in lifelong, committed relationships include "fidelity, monogamy, mutual affection and respect, careful, honest communication, and the holy love which enables those in such relationships to see in each other the image of God." (202)
This covenantal relationship sounds pretty good, right? It sounds like the type of relationship to which my husband and I aspire and toward which we continually work.
But, there's a problem that I see in the work of the Standing Committee - and it's the problem the gentleman raised at the Town Hall meeting. It is that same-gendered relationships are being discussed as covenantal relationships while not being called marriage. And that our society places a higher premium on "marriage" and excludes same-gendered couples from this civil (and religious) union.
"While the Canons of the Episcopal Church describe marriage as a union of a man and a woman, the patterns of marriage can help us understand other kinds of covenantal relationship, such as vowed religious life and the commitments of same-gender couples." (206)
The authors of the report seem to be trying to level the proverbial playing field and remove a culturally-understood hierarchy of types of covenantal relationships. They explain that, "Indeed, for the first half of its history, the Church understood vowed religious life as a calling higher than marriage, a view that changed decisively only during the Protestant Reformation (206)." That is no longer the case, and "in all of these covenantal relationships [marriage, same-gender committed relationships, vowed religious life], the partners promise to be trustworthy, to remain faithful to one another despite other demands on their time and energy of possibilities of engagement with others (206)."
However, the culture still disallows same-gender couples to be in unions with all the rights and privileges afforded to different-gender couples on discriminatory grounds. The culture says that same-gender relationships are lesser, and not worthy of the same rights and privileges given to married different-gender couples. "Marriage," the civil union that allows for a plethora of rights to couples, is forbidden to same-gender couples. No matter what The Episcopal Church does to uplift and bless covenantal relationships of same-gender couples, the simple fact is this: same-gender couples are denied "marriage" in civil society and thereby are denied rights and benefits. It is a human rights and social justice issue.
So, while I appreciate the theology of covenantal relationships presented in this report, especially in the sense that it allowed me time for reflection and prayer about my marriage, the report neglects to address the human rights and social justice issues surrounding same-gender relationships in our society. The dominant culture doesn't care if same-gender couples are in "covenantal relationship" when it comes down to end-of-life visitation rights. They're not married, and they are denied these rights.
Clergy bless the unions of nine same-gendered couples in the Diocese of Southeast Florida
The report distinguishes between "married different-gender couples and covenanted same-gender couples (208)." Why the different terms? If a covenantal relationship between two people is a relationship in the image of the Triune, inherently relational God of Christian faith, if it is a relationship in the image of God's relationship with the Church, the shouldn't we dispense with the terms "marriage" and "matrimony" altogether? Are not they inappropriate or inaccurate, and filled with histories of exploitation, economic arrangements, patriarchy, and on and on?
Isn't covenantal relationship what we should be blessing, and not marriage - for any couple - same-gendered or different-gendered?
All I know is that covenantal relationship as defined by this Report is what I aspire to in my relationship with my husband. I don't know that marriage, with all its baggage, is the most accurate to describe the type of relationship that we wish to have.
So, when people ask me, "Are you married?"
I believe I'll respond, "No, I am in covenant."
*This portion of the report is intended for consideration of the 77th General Convention and for study in preparation for Convention. None of the material in the document is authorized for use in TEC.
Monday, May 28, 2012
Chorizo and Theology
"We cannot avoid the conclusion that our irresponsible industrial production and consumption-driven economy lie at the heart of the current environmental crisis."
"Privileged Christians in our present global context need to move from a culture of consumerism to a culture of conservation and sharing."
"The challenge is to examine one's own participation in ecologically destructive habits."
- from A Pastoral Teaching on the Environment, The Episcopal Church House of Bishops Theology Committee
"Privileged Christians in our present global context need to move from a culture of consumerism to a culture of conservation and sharing."
"The challenge is to examine one's own participation in ecologically destructive habits."
- from A Pastoral Teaching on the Environment, The Episcopal Church House of Bishops Theology Committee
I don't want to think about barbecue chicken pizza and pork chops as moral issues, but they are.
What I put in my mouth is a statement about who I am and what I believe.
Yesterday, I approached a vendor at my local Farmer's Market whose posters advertised, "Local pork." I selected zesty Italian sausage and chorizo, made the purchase, and was about to turn to leave when I decided to ask a question that the documentary "Food, Inc." had convinced me to ask.
"I have a question, if you have a minute."
"Sure," the young farmer said, taking a seat on the stool behind the cash box.
"So, I saw a documentary," I said, feeling my cheeks flush, "and I wanted to ask you how you raise and care for your pigs. Because the documentary had all this information about how horrible the industrial food system is, and it made me very concerned about where my meat comes from."
"Well, my pigs only see one bad day," he said. "Only one bad day. And it's their last day."
I smiled.
"My pigs are not kept indoors; they never see concrete or asphalt unless they escape. They roam freely outdoors. I bring the mothers inside when they are about to give birth, but still, they are given a large pen where they can move freely, unconstrained. They never see a cage."
"That makes me feel so much better," I said. "I used to buy vegetables at the market, and conventional meat from the grocery, but I don't think I'll ever buy conventional meat again."
"You know how they started calling pork 'the other white meat?'" he asked. "The meat became white because industrial farming doesn't allow the pigs to move. They stand still all day, building up fat and bulk with hormones and antibiotics, and they don't develop muscle. When you cook up one of my pork chops, you'll see it's not white. It's not red like red meat, but it's not white - because my meat is not all fat. My pigs build muscle."
"That chorizo you bought there," he said, "if you cook that up in a pan and try to drain the excess fat, nothing will drain. There's no excess fat there. It's good, lean meat."
And he was right. I cooked up the chorizo - two links on the grill and some bulk chorizo in the frying pan - and there was no fat to drain. No neon orange grease to soak up on a mound of paper towels.
Just good, farm-fresh, lean meat.
"Our
current environmental challenges call us to ongoing forms of
repentance: we must turn ourselves around, and come to think, feel, and
act in new ways. Ancient wisdom and spiritual disciplines from our
faith offer deep resources to help address this environmental crisis.
Time-honored practices of fasting, Sabbath-keeping, and Christ-centered
mindfulness bear particular promise for our time."
My deepest hope is that this newest endeavor to act in new ways, and purchase my food locally and mindfully, will continue.
In my role as a deputy to General Convention, I take time to read hundreds of pages of reports issued by various bodies in The Episcopal Church. While I am so very proud that our House of Bishops issued a pastoral report on the environment, I am so very disappointed that the issues raised by the report are not a topic of normal discussion in our parishes and missions.
Where are the sermons that make a connection between the commandment to keep the Sabbath and the industrial food system? Where are the sermons that draw the connection between obesity, corn subsidies, and poverty in developing countries?
Where are everyday Episcopalians in this dialogue?
Thursday, April 7, 2011
turning out; not trying to control
So, I realized after Sunday's dance class with Mrs. Hall that I don't turn out enough.
That's not a new realization; I go through phases where I fall prey to the illusion that I do turn just perfectly, thank you very much, only to sit down on my perceived laurels and then realize, to my great dismay, that I've undone all my work because I incorrectly believed that I had "arrived." That I had learned to turn out just fine. Instead, I'd lost it all.
Silly me.
(And isn't that how it is with everything? I go about my life, thinking that I'm doing everything fairly well, and then all of a sudden, a sin of commission or omission hurts someone else or hurts me, or damages my relationship with someOne. And then, I realize, that I have again fallen prey to the illusion that I was doing everything correctly or right - only to remember that I must constantly be a student. I must intentionally be a learner. And I've got to strive to live in that state of learning, of openness, and stop closing myself and my mind).
So - with the turn-out and the dancing. Yesterday's practice was easier in the sense that I wasn't dancing for stamina or endurance, but it was very difficult in other respects. I spent about an hour at the studio before church, working on crossing. One of the other dancers there watched the middle step of my treble jig, which turns backwards for the last five bars, and she noted, "Allison, you're crossing, but you're not turning out. It goes straight at that part."
Oh NO!
So, I spent the last ten minutes of studio time pushing my un-cooperative hips to turn out more, for my legs to cross more.
Then, protein bar, liter of water, apple, and a choir practice later, I was at the gym, focused and determined to get my hips to turn-out more.
Plié squats, leg lifts, calf presses, forward & reverse lunges, two-heels-to-seat jumps, bi's/tri's/delts, hip abductor and adductor (my least favorite, for good reason).
And then, up to the studio at the gym. I walked through the motions of my treble jig, willing my hips to rotate just a few more degrees so that my heels would be just slightly more visible, my positioning just slightly more correct.
And again. And again. And again. By the time I was finished, I FELT it. My hips really felt it.
To finish the day, I started my "envisioning" work. I envisioned myself on the huge Worlds stage, envisioned the stage lights, the darkness of the audience out there, the size of the stage, the sense of one or two dancers on stage with me. And I asked myself, "How do I want to look? What expression do I want to wear? How do I want to present myself?"
I am told often to smile, and I know why. First, it's pleasant to see. Secondly, if I don't do something deliberate with my face, I wear a fearful bunny-rabbit-in-the-headlights look. However, I do not like to smile while dancing. My smile ends up looking plastered, disengaged, and, I think, goofy.
So, I worked on the same face that I have worked on with one of my students - a content, pleased, satisfied, and joyful calm expression. One that says, "I know what I'm doing. I love this dance, and I'm entirely comfortable with it." And I danced each of my dances for turn-out, crossing, and a joyful calm face.
And then collapsed onto a mat on the floor and stretched out my poor hips.
Irish dancing is such an internal battle, truly 85% mental over 15% physical. Sure, the physical training takes up 15-20 hours of my week, but it's my brain and my thoughts that either make or break that time spent working my body. If my head is in the right place, my work will be high-quality, the results will be spectacular, and I will have learned something. If my head is in the wrong place, I will be aimless or I will force things to happen. Regardless, a wrong-headedness will un-do all the work I have done, will leave me frustrated and upset, lacking motivation.
So, it really all boils down to a fight in my brain.
Which means that this blog, at least for the next three weeks, will boil down to my brain processing everything it needs to process before Worlds. Will come down to me trying to develop the right mindset, make these last days of physical practice count. Will boil down to me giving my all - 110% of my mental and physical ability.
Shwew.
Today's Tao Te Ching passage is Chapter 10 from the Stephen Mitchell translation:
That's not a new realization; I go through phases where I fall prey to the illusion that I do turn just perfectly, thank you very much, only to sit down on my perceived laurels and then realize, to my great dismay, that I've undone all my work because I incorrectly believed that I had "arrived." That I had learned to turn out just fine. Instead, I'd lost it all.
Silly me.
(And isn't that how it is with everything? I go about my life, thinking that I'm doing everything fairly well, and then all of a sudden, a sin of commission or omission hurts someone else or hurts me, or damages my relationship with someOne. And then, I realize, that I have again fallen prey to the illusion that I was doing everything correctly or right - only to remember that I must constantly be a student. I must intentionally be a learner. And I've got to strive to live in that state of learning, of openness, and stop closing myself and my mind).
So - with the turn-out and the dancing. Yesterday's practice was easier in the sense that I wasn't dancing for stamina or endurance, but it was very difficult in other respects. I spent about an hour at the studio before church, working on crossing. One of the other dancers there watched the middle step of my treble jig, which turns backwards for the last five bars, and she noted, "Allison, you're crossing, but you're not turning out. It goes straight at that part."
Oh NO!
So, I spent the last ten minutes of studio time pushing my un-cooperative hips to turn out more, for my legs to cross more.
Then, protein bar, liter of water, apple, and a choir practice later, I was at the gym, focused and determined to get my hips to turn-out more.
Plié squats, leg lifts, calf presses, forward & reverse lunges, two-heels-to-seat jumps, bi's/tri's/delts, hip abductor and adductor (my least favorite, for good reason).
And then, up to the studio at the gym. I walked through the motions of my treble jig, willing my hips to rotate just a few more degrees so that my heels would be just slightly more visible, my positioning just slightly more correct.
And again. And again. And again. By the time I was finished, I FELT it. My hips really felt it.
To finish the day, I started my "envisioning" work. I envisioned myself on the huge Worlds stage, envisioned the stage lights, the darkness of the audience out there, the size of the stage, the sense of one or two dancers on stage with me. And I asked myself, "How do I want to look? What expression do I want to wear? How do I want to present myself?"
I am told often to smile, and I know why. First, it's pleasant to see. Secondly, if I don't do something deliberate with my face, I wear a fearful bunny-rabbit-in-the-headlights look. However, I do not like to smile while dancing. My smile ends up looking plastered, disengaged, and, I think, goofy.
So, I worked on the same face that I have worked on with one of my students - a content, pleased, satisfied, and joyful calm expression. One that says, "I know what I'm doing. I love this dance, and I'm entirely comfortable with it." And I danced each of my dances for turn-out, crossing, and a joyful calm face.
And then collapsed onto a mat on the floor and stretched out my poor hips.
Irish dancing is such an internal battle, truly 85% mental over 15% physical. Sure, the physical training takes up 15-20 hours of my week, but it's my brain and my thoughts that either make or break that time spent working my body. If my head is in the right place, my work will be high-quality, the results will be spectacular, and I will have learned something. If my head is in the wrong place, I will be aimless or I will force things to happen. Regardless, a wrong-headedness will un-do all the work I have done, will leave me frustrated and upset, lacking motivation.
So, it really all boils down to a fight in my brain.
Which means that this blog, at least for the next three weeks, will boil down to my brain processing everything it needs to process before Worlds. Will come down to me trying to develop the right mindset, make these last days of physical practice count. Will boil down to me giving my all - 110% of my mental and physical ability.
Shwew.
Today's Tao Te Ching passage is Chapter 10 from the Stephen Mitchell translation:
Can you coax your mind from its wandering
and keep to the original oneness?
Can you let your body become
supple as a newborn child's?
Can you cleanse your inner vision
until you see nothing but the light?
Can you love people and lead them
without imposing your will?
Can you deal with the most vital matters
by letting events take their course?
Can you step back from your own mind
and thus understand all things?
Giving birth and nourishing,
having without possessing,
acting with no expectations,
leading and not trying to control:
this is the supreme virtue.
and keep to the original oneness?
Can you let your body become
supple as a newborn child's?
Can you cleanse your inner vision
until you see nothing but the light?
Can you love people and lead them
without imposing your will?
Can you deal with the most vital matters
by letting events take their course?
Can you step back from your own mind
and thus understand all things?
Giving birth and nourishing,
having without possessing,
acting with no expectations,
leading and not trying to control:
this is the supreme virtue.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Embodying the light...
"I'm not looking for the best players, I'm looking for the right players."
- The film "Miracle"
Isn't it always the case that we try to exist on our own devices, on our own cleverness, on our own egos and pomposity - until we realize that it's really all out of our hands?
If I had a dollar for each time my ego, my belief in my own abilities, my arrogance got the better of me and came back to bite me in the butt - well, I'd be a millionaire.
My ego bit me in the butt recently, hit me upside the head in the studio when I realized that I was pushing, pushing, pushing, struggling, frustrated, beating myself up because I was expecting to have arrived. I was expecting to have it all figured out. Expecting to have all the answers. And they weren't coming, because I was clinging too much. Holding on too tightly. Forcing myself to breathe, instead of just taking in the air.
And then, I opened the Tao Te Ching this morning to this very chapter, with these all-too-appropriate words:
A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent upon arriving.
If I just let go, just let intuition lead me, trust my body, allow energy to flow through me, and stop trying to force a premature "arrival," stop trying to force a tight and tense victory, then things will fall into place.
I will be a good traveler. Worlds is a highlight on the journey, but it is not the fixed plan, not the place of arrival. It is simply an emboldening new learning experience along the way.
So, I will stop clinging so tightly. I will stop my painstaking inventory of my luggage (knees crossed, toes pointed, land on point there, jump higher, extend, extend, move move, focus focus), stop forcing myself to complete an impossibly long laundry list every time I dance, and I will instead let go.
I will stop trying to wring my body dry like a wet sponge - stop trying to force things out of my practice sessions. I will just let things arise out of them.
I will trust that the building blocks are there. I will trust my body. I will trust my training. I will trust my preparation.
I will embody the light.
I will not be intent upon arriving.
I will just ride the wave, and enjoy the journey.
- The film "Miracle"
Chapter 27, from the Tao Te Ching, translated by Stephen Mitchell
A good traveler has no fixed plans
and is not intent upon arriving.
A good artist lets his intuition
lead him wherever it wants.
A good scientist has freed himself of concepts
and keeps his mind open to what is.
Thus the Master is available to all people
and doesn't reject anyone.
He is ready to use all situations
and doesn't waste anything.
This is called embodying the light.
What is a good man but a bad man's teacher?
What is a bad man but a good man's job?
If you don't understand this, you will get lost,
however intelligent you are.
It is the great secret.
A good traveler has no fixed plans
and is not intent upon arriving.
A good artist lets his intuition
lead him wherever it wants.
A good scientist has freed himself of concepts
and keeps his mind open to what is.
Thus the Master is available to all people
and doesn't reject anyone.
He is ready to use all situations
and doesn't waste anything.
This is called embodying the light.
What is a good man but a bad man's teacher?
What is a bad man but a good man's job?
If you don't understand this, you will get lost,
however intelligent you are.
It is the great secret.
Isn't it always the case that we try to exist on our own devices, on our own cleverness, on our own egos and pomposity - until we realize that it's really all out of our hands?
If I had a dollar for each time my ego, my belief in my own abilities, my arrogance got the better of me and came back to bite me in the butt - well, I'd be a millionaire.
My ego bit me in the butt recently, hit me upside the head in the studio when I realized that I was pushing, pushing, pushing, struggling, frustrated, beating myself up because I was expecting to have arrived. I was expecting to have it all figured out. Expecting to have all the answers. And they weren't coming, because I was clinging too much. Holding on too tightly. Forcing myself to breathe, instead of just taking in the air.
And then, I opened the Tao Te Ching this morning to this very chapter, with these all-too-appropriate words:
A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent upon arriving.
If I just let go, just let intuition lead me, trust my body, allow energy to flow through me, and stop trying to force a premature "arrival," stop trying to force a tight and tense victory, then things will fall into place.
I will be a good traveler. Worlds is a highlight on the journey, but it is not the fixed plan, not the place of arrival. It is simply an emboldening new learning experience along the way.
So, I will stop clinging so tightly. I will stop my painstaking inventory of my luggage (knees crossed, toes pointed, land on point there, jump higher, extend, extend, move move, focus focus), stop forcing myself to complete an impossibly long laundry list every time I dance, and I will instead let go.
I will stop trying to wring my body dry like a wet sponge - stop trying to force things out of my practice sessions. I will just let things arise out of them.
I will trust that the building blocks are there. I will trust my body. I will trust my training. I will trust my preparation.
I will embody the light.
I will not be intent upon arriving.
I will just ride the wave, and enjoy the journey.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Aa3udu al-ifriqiya ash-shamaal. ehlesh?
I return to North Africa. Why?
If you get outside of your own tourist-head, it's hard not to feel guilty in North Africa.
I rode a camel being pulled by three teenage boys in a southern Moroccan village that bordered the rise of the mighty Sahara. They spoke five languages fluently. They knew the rudiments of five more. They dressed in the expected bright blue Berber tunics that the tourist guidebooks boasted they would wear. As the led me on my camel over the sand dunes, I looked back to see twelve more teenage boys sitting idle on a dune near the village.
They took turns leading Western tourists on camels; took turns at making a few dhirham.
And that was all they had to live for. Rural, poor, highly conversant in multiple languages and yet illiterate in Arabic, their futures were in the village. They couldn't even fathom going to university, if they wanted to.
And back in the city, all of my Moroccan peers were in university. One of our professors at the CCCL (Center for Cross-Cultural Learning) was also a professor at Mohammad V University in Agdal. You could tell he lived to teach, and that he loved every minute of life. He brimmed with joie de vivre. And, he brimmed with hope and dreams for his students - particularly his Moroccan students.
He brought one of his classes to the CCCL to do true cross-cultural learning with us. They could not speak as many languages as the village boys, but they were hyper-literate: they could read, write, and speak Arabic, Spanish, French, and English, and some of them also Italian, German, and Tamazight, Riffi, or Tashelhit, one of the Berber languages, which were just beginning to be transcribed in Latin script, Arabic script, or a newly devised Amazigh (Berber) alphabet.
Huge pangs of guilt hit me while I was there, while I developed deeper friendships with my homestay sister and two other young women who were students at Mohammad V University. Just as talented as me, much more knowledgeable, with fluency in at least three languages - these three young women and thousands more young people like them had no hope. None. I knew that after my holiday in North Africa, I would return home to America. And while I might be marginally employed, our economy can swallow me into it, what with my entrepreneurial spirit, interest and education in several specialized fields, and my optimism. Thanks be to America.
But this is not only unfair, but unjust. Unjust that even in an economic downturn, I am able to take my skill set and carve out a living in America. A travesty that in North Africa, young people are fluent and literate in a literal handfull of languages, with bachelors' and masters' degress in diverse and necessary fields, and there are no jobs. Not one.
Doesn't matter how entrepreneurial you are. How smart. How clever. You will not find a job as a young person in North Africa. As a young person in the Middle East.
So, yes, the Middle East and North Africa make me feel guilty. Guilty for being American, guilty for staying in five star hotels and being waited on by young people lucky enough to get a job as a valet, a bellhop, or a janitor.
I'm a glutton for this guilt, I guess. It's a vital, enlivening sense of guilt. It makes me more human. It makes me more thankful. It gets me outside of my American brain, my American life, my American hang-ups. It reminds me to live simply, to live small, to live joyfully, to live gratefully.
And now, instead of returning for the usual sense of guilt that I find in the Arab world - that I found in 2007 in Morocco, 2008 in Egypt, Palestine, and Morocco, and 2010 in Palestine - I will be returning to let my eyes well with tears of joy, happiness, and pride that I do not deserve to feel.
I will swell with pride and awe at the youth of the Middle East - the young Arabs who have taken their lives, their countries, their governments into their own hands and are demanding something more. Something better. Something they deserve - and oh God do they deserve it more than I do, more than any American youth does.
Tears will roll down my cheeks as I remember my friends and peers in Morocco, and then think of millions of young people just like them, across the Arab world, recognizing their power, efficacy, and their righteousness, and fighting for their lives. Truly. For their lives.
After years of Insha' Allah, it is happening.
That is why I am returning.
Keep North Africa and the Middle East in your prayers, if you make them, or in your thoughts, if you don't.
Some notes, to enflesh the revolutions with quantitative data that represents the qualitative way of living in this part of the world:
Country
Percentage of total household consumption expenditures going to food
Percentage of population under age 30
Percentage of 15-29 population not working and not going to school
If you get outside of your own tourist-head, it's hard not to feel guilty in North Africa.
I rode a camel being pulled by three teenage boys in a southern Moroccan village that bordered the rise of the mighty Sahara. They spoke five languages fluently. They knew the rudiments of five more. They dressed in the expected bright blue Berber tunics that the tourist guidebooks boasted they would wear. As the led me on my camel over the sand dunes, I looked back to see twelve more teenage boys sitting idle on a dune near the village.
They took turns leading Western tourists on camels; took turns at making a few dhirham.
And that was all they had to live for. Rural, poor, highly conversant in multiple languages and yet illiterate in Arabic, their futures were in the village. They couldn't even fathom going to university, if they wanted to.
And back in the city, all of my Moroccan peers were in university. One of our professors at the CCCL (Center for Cross-Cultural Learning) was also a professor at Mohammad V University in Agdal. You could tell he lived to teach, and that he loved every minute of life. He brimmed with joie de vivre. And, he brimmed with hope and dreams for his students - particularly his Moroccan students.
He brought one of his classes to the CCCL to do true cross-cultural learning with us. They could not speak as many languages as the village boys, but they were hyper-literate: they could read, write, and speak Arabic, Spanish, French, and English, and some of them also Italian, German, and Tamazight, Riffi, or Tashelhit, one of the Berber languages, which were just beginning to be transcribed in Latin script, Arabic script, or a newly devised Amazigh (Berber) alphabet.
Huge pangs of guilt hit me while I was there, while I developed deeper friendships with my homestay sister and two other young women who were students at Mohammad V University. Just as talented as me, much more knowledgeable, with fluency in at least three languages - these three young women and thousands more young people like them had no hope. None. I knew that after my holiday in North Africa, I would return home to America. And while I might be marginally employed, our economy can swallow me into it, what with my entrepreneurial spirit, interest and education in several specialized fields, and my optimism. Thanks be to America.
But this is not only unfair, but unjust. Unjust that even in an economic downturn, I am able to take my skill set and carve out a living in America. A travesty that in North Africa, young people are fluent and literate in a literal handfull of languages, with bachelors' and masters' degress in diverse and necessary fields, and there are no jobs. Not one.
Doesn't matter how entrepreneurial you are. How smart. How clever. You will not find a job as a young person in North Africa. As a young person in the Middle East.
So, yes, the Middle East and North Africa make me feel guilty. Guilty for being American, guilty for staying in five star hotels and being waited on by young people lucky enough to get a job as a valet, a bellhop, or a janitor.
I'm a glutton for this guilt, I guess. It's a vital, enlivening sense of guilt. It makes me more human. It makes me more thankful. It gets me outside of my American brain, my American life, my American hang-ups. It reminds me to live simply, to live small, to live joyfully, to live gratefully.
And now, instead of returning for the usual sense of guilt that I find in the Arab world - that I found in 2007 in Morocco, 2008 in Egypt, Palestine, and Morocco, and 2010 in Palestine - I will be returning to let my eyes well with tears of joy, happiness, and pride that I do not deserve to feel.
I will swell with pride and awe at the youth of the Middle East - the young Arabs who have taken their lives, their countries, their governments into their own hands and are demanding something more. Something better. Something they deserve - and oh God do they deserve it more than I do, more than any American youth does.
Tears will roll down my cheeks as I remember my friends and peers in Morocco, and then think of millions of young people just like them, across the Arab world, recognizing their power, efficacy, and their righteousness, and fighting for their lives. Truly. For their lives.
After years of Insha' Allah, it is happening.
That is why I am returning.
Keep North Africa and the Middle East in your prayers, if you make them, or in your thoughts, if you don't.
Some notes, to enflesh the revolutions with quantitative data that represents the qualitative way of living in this part of the world:
Country
Percentage of total household consumption expenditures going to food
Percentage of population under age 30
Percentage of 15-29 population not working and not going to school
Morocco
36%+
57%
34%
Algeria
36%+
58%
37%
Tunisia
36%
52%
no data
Libya
no data
58%
29%
Egypt
38%
61%
37%
Jordan
36%+
64%
23%
Palestinian Territories
no data
72%
37%
Lebanon
no data
51%
16%
Iraq
no data
68%
43%
Yemen
no data
74%
49%
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