Oh Say Can You Protest?

When I taught college history, I’d often suggest that the entire history of our country could be framed as a history of dissent. The Pilgrims and the Puritans were dissenters. Many of the New England towns broke off to form new ones because of dissent (usually within the church), and of course our founding documents are filled with dissenting arguments.

So when someone says that people should not be protesting – individually and/or collectively – it strikes me as downright un-American. Whether it’s a football player taking a knee, people marching in the streets, the Standing Rock Sioux trying to protect their water, or the cast of Broadway’s Hamilton addressing Mike Pence, protest is inherently American, and it’s one of the best things about America. It’s one of the ways we know we’re still us.

Sure, there are times that protests have annoyed me – maybe because they inconvenienced me or maybe because I disagreed with (or didn’t understand) the object of the protest. But it is so intrinsic to what America is, especially America at its best, that honoring dissent is even more patriotic than honoring the flag. More importantly, it is very much like the flag in Francis Scott Key’s poem.*

When Key wrote it, he was imprisoned during the Battle of Baltimore in the War of 1812, and was searching for sight of the flag to know if the United States was still a country, still alive as an independent nation. “The rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air, gave proof through the night that our flag was still there …”

Those protests – those people on the streets who are loudly and publicly airing their grievances with a president-elect who has threatened so many of us in so many ways – they are the proof that our nation, our “land of the free” is still there. When they disappear, there will be nothing left but the flag, and it will have nothing left to represent.

So whether or not you agree with the protests, perhaps you should stand and salute when they go by. Maybe you should pledge allegiance to American dissent, write songs about its colors, and ask for God’s blessings upon it. It is inherent to who we are.

It is, after all, the words and actions of the brave which will ensure we remain the land of the free.

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*-- As a footnote, I am not glorifying Francis Scott Key, who was not only a slave owner, but was an anti-abolitionist and held very racist views. While we're protesting, maybe we can also change the national anthem .... Just asking.

Be Precise

For those who are saying that the election is over and we should "let it go," can you tell me precisely what I should let go of? My rights? My marriage? My children?

What should Muslims let go of? Their religious freedom? Their beliefs? Their identify? Their basic human rights?

What should immigrants let go of? Their homes? Their jobs? Their children? Their hope for a better life?

And what about women? Should we abandon our rights to our own bodies? Let go of the right to say no? Acquiesce to sexual assault & harassment? Let go of our jobs, military careers, right to walk openly in public?

I suppose the disabled should let go of ramps and other accommodations, right? And our POWs and Gold Star families should let go of any respect they have earned for their service/loss? And should people of color let go of their rights to a fair trial, a jury of their peers, voting rights, public accommodations, etc? Should trans folk let go of their identities, their true selves?

And as Americans, what precisely should we let go of? The Bill of Rights? Separation of church and state? A free press? How about checks & balances, should we let those go as well? How about national sovereignty -- might as well hand over all governance to Putin, right? Should we also let go of our history of standing up against fascism & totalitarianism?

You see, when you say "let it go," there are so many things you might be referring to ... so I will need you to be more precise. When you do so, I will carefully consider your exact request and then tell you, precisely, where you can shove said request.

This is my country. It was founded on some basic principles which matter a great deal to me, and I have no intention of letting them go. But this country was also built and rebuilt upon a long history of dissent. Everything we have achieved as a nation came at a great cost, because millions upon millions upon millions of people refused to "let it go."

 

More than a memory

It’s been 15 years. I no longer want to know where you were on 9/11. Now, I only want to know where you’ve been since then. Who have you become?

It’s not that I don’t remember. Of course I do. And I certainly don’t want anyone to forget. We must not forget the deadened souls of terrorists who hijacked airplanes and used them to kill thousands. We must not forget the love and devotion expressed in last messages left for family and loved ones. We must not forget the bravery of those on Flight 93 who stood up to face evil head on, and lost their own lives to save so many others. We must not forget the heroism of the first responders and all those who volunteered to help in whatever way they could. We must not forget the fear, and shock and trauma of the survivors and witnesses. And we must not forget that across this country and around the world, strangers reached out to help one another, or just to check in. We must not forget any of it.

But we have a bigger obligation. We must do more than simply relegate it to a memory. I think we owe it to all those we lost on that day to live, on this day, as though it mattered. As though it still matters.

So, who have you become? Has your anger and rage and resentment left you a deadened soul willing to hurt others for your own revenge, or have you allowed your heartbreak to open your heart? Do you take time to tell your family and friends that they are important to you, or are you waiting for a special occasion? Have you been brave enough to face down evil – whether in the form of schoolyard bullying or hate-based oppression, or have you shut down to everyday injustices?  Are you a hero – willing to help out, reach out, comfort and aid your fellow human beings in any way you can? Do you recognize – or at least allow for – the fear, shock, trauma and misfortune of the people you meet, or are you so wrapped up in your own problems that you judge others harshly? Who have you become?

And who have we become, as a nation?

On 9/11, New Yorkers fleeing Manhattan were seen walking across the George Washington Bridge like refugees and our hearts went out to them. Do our hearts still go out to refugees?

On 9/11, police and firefighters lived up to and beyond their call to protect and serve. Can we both honor those who still do, and expect accountability from those who don’t?

On 9/11, no one asked if those in need were citizen or immigrant, rich or poor, Christian, Jewish or Muslim. No one asked about racial or gender identity. Are we still willing to help beyond boundaries?

On 9/11, we held each other in grief and pain even as we looked for the best in our nation and its leaders. Why have we come to expect the worst instead?

On 9/11, thousands of people died because they simply showed up for work. Do we still honor those who show up and work? Do we recognize their contributions, even if their jobs aren’t flashy or “important”?

On and after 9/11, we turned to friends and strangers alike, looked them in the eye and asked “Are you okay?” Do we still offer a hand, and a shoulder to strangers?

On this 15^th anniversary, I want to do more than remember the dead. I want to know if we – as individuals and as a nation – have become worthy of their legacy.

RNC -- Day 1 -- Televised Imperialism

Apparently there was a great deal of frustration at the arena on the first day of the Republican convention, with the last gasps of the #NeverTrump movement. But it was, of course, the speeches at the end of the day which garnered the most attention on my newsfeed – especially Melania Trump’s plagiarism of Michelle Obama’s 2008 speech, the opening benediction, and the use of Queen’s “We Are the Champions” when Donald Trump came onstage.

First, Queen has previously denounced Trump for using the song and Brian May said no permission was sought or received to use the song again last night. He said they don’t want it used for any political purposes, but I imagine having it played for the Republican nominee with the most anti-LGBT platform in history would have Freddie Mercury turning over in his grave.

Second, the so-called “benediction” by Mark Burns last night was a “prayer” of sorts, but unlike anything I would call prayer. It praised Trump for “believ[ing] in the name of Jesus Christ” and declared Hillary Clinton and the Democratic Party to be “our enemy.” It has been denounced by religious leaders of both the conservative and progressive branches of Christianity for being far too partisan and not remotely spiritual. Let me just say that apparently Mark Burns, like Donald Trump, believes “in the name of Jesus Christ,’ but not at all in the teachings of Jesus Christ. Peter may have denied Jesus three times, but he never saw Jesus as just a name. Similarly, there are reasons that devout Jews don’t speak or write the name of God. One website explains it this way: “Because a name represents the reputation of the thing named, a name should be treated with the same respect as the thing's reputation.” But if Mark Burns believed in the teachings of Jesus, in the example of Jesus, he never would have declared war on half the country. It’s one thing to denounce certain beliefs or policies (which would also be too partisan for a benediction), but to declare millions of people to be “our enemy” places Burns, and anyone who thinks like him, back into the Middle Ages and the times of the Crusades.

Finally, there is the plagiarism controversy. Yes, Melania Trump (if you believe her NBC interview) or her speech writers (if you believe Paul Manafort) took two paragraphs from Michelle Obama’s 2008 speech and reworked them slightly for Melania’s 2016 speech. It’s plagiarism, pure and simple. But it’s more insidious, as The New Republic’s Brian Beutler explained: “[L]et’s not gloss over it, this is a depiction of a campaign – a campaign that nurtures white grievance and resentment – trying to profit off the work of a black woman, from an African American family that Trump and his supporters regularly belittle. The fact that the plagiarized text in question was about the value of hard work just makes matters worse.”

To this, let me add that Melania Trump spoke about her (very atypical) immigrant experience after Senator Jeff Sessions decried all (legal and illegal) immigration to the U.S. for taking American jobs.

So let me sum up the RNC on Day 1 – they collectively co-opted Christianity as a religion, along with ethics like hard-work and honesty; stole material from an intelligent and accomplished Black woman and an immensely talented gay man; and denounced immigration while trumpeting an immigrant. In essence, it was an orchestrated, multi-pronged attempt to take what is good, and right, and just in many peoples and cultures in the United States and twist it to Trump’s own political ends – to take credit for all of that for the benefit of a rich, straight white man.

In fact, the only thing which could make it worse is if they simultaneously denied doing anything of the kind, if they pretended that somehow only white straight culture was responsible for all the good in the world …

Oh wait … they did that too! Representative Steve King (R-IA), in an appearance on MSNBC yesterday, said “I would ask you to go back through history and figure out where are these contributions that have been made by these other categories of people that you are talking about, where did any other subgroup of people contribute more to civilization [than old white people]?”

I will leave the long answer to that question to another post, or another blogger, but the short answer is right in front of you. Western Civilization has taken, stolen, and/or co-opted labor, resources, ideas, and technologies from other peoples and cultures and claimed them as their own. Now the GOP is replicating the process in front of our eyes, complete with a vengeful whitewashed Jesus.

And all for a man who has himself taken, stolen and/or co-opted labor, resources, ideas and technologies from others, left them behind in a string of bankruptcies and lawsuits, and claimed all the credit for himself.

So the #NeverTrump crowd was doomed to failure. Trump is the embodiment of the Republican Party. They’ve gotten exactly what they deserve, and they are showing us exactly who they are.

Yielding

 A couple of days ago, my wife, a UCC pastor, wrote a blog post called “Stopping Traffic” which has apparently gone viral. (Actually, I don’t exactly know what qualifies as “viral” but it’s been viewed – and theoretically read – by over half a million people in just a couple of days.) The post was about some disrespectful drivers interrupting a funeral procession, and it appears to have struck a nerve across a wide spectrum of people – conservative and liberal, religious and non-religious. Its popularity has surprised me for a number of reasons – first because I don’t think it is as well-written or as prophetic as some of her other writing, but also because she nearly didn’t post it at all. I encouraged her to do so, but was later concerned about the title, since I had been wrapped up in reading about the Black Lives Matters protests and several demonstrations which have stopped traffic on major roads, bridges and freeways.

But I have realized that these are not such different things. Both the funeral procession and the Black Lives Matter protestors are asking, begging, demanding that we acknowledge their grieving, that we stop for a moment and bear witness to their pain. It’s a simple request, too rarely heard or observed in our hectic, crazy, ever-so-demanding world. But it is, fundamentally, a question of respect for other people.

And it reminded me of a lesson from a human rights graduate seminar I took years ago, taught by Wiktor Osiatynski, a scholar who helped draft the Polish Constitution after the fall of communism. He told us that rights are secondary. Let that sink in for a minute – we live in a country founded on the concept of rights, every social movement in our history demanded rights, and our culture is awash in discussions of rights. I suspect we’ll be hearing even more about it in the next two weeks as Amnesty International is sending observers to the Republican & Democratic conventions in Cleveland and Philadelphia, respectively, to monitor human rights amid the anticipated protests.

But Osiatynski taught us that rights are secondary. They are essentially a fallback position, for when we don’t treat each other with respect. He illustrated his point by observing that we are often willing to surrender our “rights” for things which matter more to us. For example, when we marry we theoretically give up the right to pursue other sexual relationships. When we have children, we surrender the right to a decent night’s sleep. Members of the military surrender most of their rights in order to serve, and I know police and firefighters who would tell you the same. And my wife, like other clergy, has given up many things to follow her calling. We are, as a society, and as individuals, willing to sacrifice rights for things which we value more.

This is not to say, of course, that we should abandon all concept of human rights. Unfortunately, as we have seen, we do not treat each other with respect and therefore need to rely on that fallback position of rights. But let’s imagine for a moment that we didn’t need rights … that we could each bear witness to the needs of others around us and respond with genuine respect, decency, and compassion.

Sound a little like the “Golden Rule?” Yes, probably. It also sounds like a central tenet of most major religions. Which might be why I have been thinking lately that the church could have a role in healing some of the gaping wounds we see in our society. Church is one of the places where I have found myself in community with people who live very differently than I do, who may think and act and vote differently, but with whom I am still acknowledged and respected and heard. It is a place that I have found where people can truly witness each other’s struggles, pain and grief, and there are plenty of hugs to go around. That’s the church I know.

Unfortunately, the church at large – meaning in this case all of Christianity in the United States – has become so intertwined with the hostility and hatred ripping this country apart, with anti-Semitism and Islamophobia, with sexism and homophobia and pedophilia, that it has sacrificed its moral authority and weakened itself to the point of impotence. Truly, most of the news I’ve seen about churches in the last week has dealt with whether Pokémon Go will bring anyone in the doors.

So who is left to step up and provide moral guidance for a country which is in desperate need of it? Where are our voices of conscience? Perhaps they are deep inside, silenced by the daily grind, the rush-hour, the deafening screams of violence, terrorism, inhumanity that greet us in our news cycles. It will, in the end, be up to each of us to find our own hearts, and bring them forward so they can bear witness to the individual and collective grief, pain, and promise we all carry.

And maybe it starts when we simply stop for a moment – stop to honor the funeral procession, stop to acknowledge the protestors wearing their grief, pain and fear on their sleeves, stop to listen to the stories of addicts fighting an invisible enemy, or refugees facing unspeakable pasts and uncertain futures. To me, each is like Jesus, showing us the wounds in his hands. Come, see my pain, hear my story, recognize my scars. Maybe our own humanity can start when we simply stop for a moment.

Which just reminds me of one of the most important lessons I learned in driver’s ed – no one has the right of way. The law just says who must yield it. What if we all yield for a moment, yield to the larger truth that none of us are invincible. Yield to a force greater than ourselves. Yield, and bear witness.

My Watergate Coloring Book and the 2014 Election

I’ve heard all the excuses: “My vote doesn’t matter.” “I’m too busy.” “It’s not like this is an important election.” “Politicians are all the same.” All these excuses reflect a general discouragement with the American political process, and they are all accurate, in a way. But they are all also completely wrong, because they fail to grasp the most important part of election day. It’s not about “them,” it’s about us.

When Barack Obama was running for president six years ago, I was not on the Obama bandwagon. Like so many millions of Americans, I liked his rhetoric, his vision, and his proposals. But I was afraid of the bandwagon. Afraid that the very thing that was so exciting about Obamamania – the huge numbers of new voters and the incredible energy generated among young, minority, and women voters – would ultimately crash that bandwagon, and potentially the country with it. I feared what would happen when all those energized voters realized that Obama was not a superhero, and that the American political system – in all its messiness – would not yield to their vision of hope and change. Would their inevitable disillusionment lead to that powerful democracy-killer, apathy?

I am not immune to disillusionment. On the contrary, I grew up with it. Unlike many, maybe most Americans, I never had an “illusion” to begin with. You see, I had a Watergate Coloring Book. The first thing I knew about the president was that the president lied.  As an historian, I can tell you that every president has had their strengths and weaknesses, and all would fail when held to the Superman test, especially in a modern media circus.

So it is no surprise that six years after candidate Obama was elected President Obama we are facing a probable Republican takeover of the Senate. This country is about to hand the reins of Congress over to the very people who have been intent on deflating those lofty visions we held six years ago. And it will probably happen because all of those 2008 voters are too disillusioned to get out and vote tomorrow.

But that’s where the message failed. It was never about Barack Obama. It wasn’t about Michelle, or Hillary, or John McCain or Mitt Romney. It wasn’t about any of them. It was about us. It was always about us. And it still is.

Our great visions and dreams have been bogged down in the swamp that is Washington politics. But it won’t change by turning our backs on the swamp. And it won’t change by waiting for the perfect candidate to come along. But if we vote, in large numbers, we send a signal that we are done with it. That we will hold them – all of them – accountable. It will send a message that “We the People” demand to be heard, and we are not going away, not even in a midterm election year. And it will serve as a reminder that ultimately they are supposed to work for us – not the corporations, not the lobbyists. Us.

We are “We the People” and this election is about us. So please, take time from your busy day tomorrow, remember your dream of hope and change and “a more perfect union,” and please, go vote. Because this election day, it’s all about us.

Out of the mouths of babes

A Utah school district got a lot of negative publicity this week over a problem with school lunches. It seems that some students with a negative balance on their lunch accounts were served lunch, and then a school employee walked over and took those lunches and threw them in the garbage. (Better to feed the trash can than a hungry kid, right?)

I’ve spent a lot of time in public schools. I know a lot of teachers, administrators, and school staff, and I cannot imagine any of them walking up to a hungry child and taking his or her food away. I cannot imagine what kind of person does this. The school staff I know would bend over backwards to help a kid, and many of them do so at their own expense – buying supplies, snacks, working countless hours that never qualify as overtime.

But in this elementary school in Utah, the children were publicly humiliated and perfectly good food was wasted, all because of what again? The district has since apologized, is examining its policies, and responding to the outraged parents. Maybe this will all go down as one big, though humiliating, mistake for these elementary school kids.

But while parents in Utah and across the country were incensed and the media responded with outrage, a much bigger travesty is taking food off the plates of millions of American children. The House of Representatives has passed a farm bill which will cut $800 million a year from the food stamp program (SNAP – supplemental nutrition assistance program).  We are supposed to be glad that the cut isn’t bigger. The Republican-controlled House had wanted to cut is by five times that amount. Apparently we are getting off easy here …

Really?

Because a 2011 study showed that 1 in 4 American children are on food stamps and 75% of families receiving assistance include a child, senior citizen, or disabled adult. That means our Congress – the folks we pay to represent us – are threatening to take food off the plates of 19.9 million children here in the United States.

I don’t know exactly how this will play out, and how many families will see their benefits cut, but I do know this: every parent, teacher, and compassionate adult in America should be as outraged and as LOUD as those parents in Utah. We should demand the same media attention and public outcry for each and every child who goes hungry because of this. Demand that the Senate defeat this bill. Demand that the president veto it. Demand that American children be fed.

Right now, we can see the face of someone who would take away a child’s lunch. It’s the face of John Boehner and the 250 other congressmen who voted for it. But if we allow it, if we don’t raise our voices and demand that our government protect, nurture and feed our children, then we’ll have to look in the mirror too.