If He Has to Leave Me for Someone...

Reminder: Book club discussion next Friday, one week from today on Their Eyes Were Watching God.

Speaking of eyes and God ...  I am about to reluctantly share something with you. Why reluctant? First, because it comes from the one woman on earth I am certain my husband would leave me for: Tina Fey.  Not that I've heard she's after science ed profs.  Secondly, it's probably a little inappropriate.  Third, other bloggers have posted it ad nauseum. But it made me laugh, and also hit upon some truths. It somehow seemed to fit the "celebration of girlyness" thing. It's her prayer for her daughter from her new book Bossypants. So don't read on if you don't like slightly inappropriate humor, you don't want to read this thing that's taken the web by storm again, or you don't like Tina Fey.  Because my husband would leave me for her because she's smarter and funnier than me. 

"First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.
May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.
When the Crystal Meth is offered, May she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.
Guide her, protect her
When crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.
Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels.
What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.
May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.
Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.
O Lord, break the Internet forever, That she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.
And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.
And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back.
“My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.
Amen."

Putting It All On The Line

When I was leafing through the May 2, 2011 TIME 100, World's Most Influential People issue the other night, I noticed among the Obamas, Justin Bieber, and Oprah entries a name that stands out. Aung San Suu Kyi.

Do you know who she is?

My side gig puts me in contact with a lot of Burmese people.  They are probably the largest people group coming to Syracuse recently. It can be frustrating work, because communication is almost impossible.  But behind the very different culture are horrible stories.  Their lives as refugees, if you can believe this, have often been less "privileged" than that of other groups.  Sometimes, there was no refugee camp at all to educate and entertain children or give out food.  There was just the running, with no rest whatsoever.  The junta ruling Burma has no rhyme or reason except that of brutality and greed. My friend Pam, THE BEST refugee worker in the U.S., has a video that leaves one shocked and horrified as it depicts the struggle of the Burmese people.  To get an idea of the background, this article paints a picture of the current political situation.

And then there is Aung San Suu Kyi.  If you read the articles, you will probably agree with my surprise that this woman is even alive.  Those governing Burma, it seems to me, do not give a hoot about what the rest of the world would think about them offing her. This lady is tireless in her fight for her people.  She hasn't seen her children in years.  She sacrificed being able to see her husband right before he lost his fight with cancer. She was under house arrest in Burma.  Even if she managed to leave the country, she could never come back in.  And she felt she had to stay and fight for her people.

I am fairly certain that at the point at which I knew my husband was dying and I could not see him again, I would abandon my efforts for change in my country.  I would pass the baton to someone else, and declare that I had sacrificed enough.  Even if there was no one else to take the baton, which appeared to be the situation Aung San Suu Kyi was in.  She understands the deep suffering of countless Burmese, and has given much at tremendous personal cost.

It is difficult to know when enough is enough. But how would I know? I have never put myself in the position where I have put so much out there that turning back seems impossible.  I always have one toehold in my back-up plan, a reserve tank handy, and an escape route in pocket.

I hope Aung San Suu Kyi will be able to see the day when her people are truly free of oppression.  When they can come home, or at least stay home, and lead normal lives.

Oh, How I Love Jesus

Last week, as Easter approached, my small group and I read the account in Luke of Jesus’ crucifixion, His burial, the discovery of His rising. And who was there? Women. Women witnessed the crucifixion. Women prepared spices to tenderly care for his dead body. They left at the earliest moment they could, after observing their Sabbath, and ran to his tomb. As Dorothy Sayers states in one of the essays included in her book Are Women Human?, it’s no wonder that women loved Jesus the way they did. He treated them as no man ever had. With highest value.

For maybe the first time, I really considered what it meant that women were the first to see the risen Lord.  How, when they rushed back to tell the apostles, they would be greeted with doubt and disbelief.

Beth Moore, in her Bible study, Jesus, the One and Only, wrote about it in a way that made me want to cheer:

Luke 24:11 records that the apostles "did not believe the women, because their words seemed to them like nonsense."

Sisters, don't be insulted by this scene in Luke 24:11. Rather, be blessed that God was up to something awesome even in this seemingly insignificant detail. You see, "the witness of women was not [even] acceptable in that day." They couldn't testify as witnesses.

Now isn't this just like my Jesus! He threatened the status quo in countless ways, not the least of which concerned women. He invited them into Bible class (see Luke 10:39) after they had spent centuries learning what little Scripture they could from their husbands. He honored their service during a time in which men were the only ones who ministered publicly (see Mark 15:41). He healed, forgave, delivered, and made whole the very ones society shunned. Women of ill repute.

Appointing these women as the first to share the news of Jesus' resurrection was a definite "custom shaker." Jesus knew the apostles wouldn't believe them but perhaps He felt that the pending discovery of their authenticity would breed a fresh respect. After all, look at the first roll call we have in the post ascension New Testament church, and you'll see who comprised the first New Testament cell group (see Acts 1:13-14).

For centuries the synagogue kept men and women separate. Suddenly they would be working, praying, and worshiping shoulder-to-shoulder. Christ built His church on a foundation of mutual respect. Don't misunderstand. Christ wasn't prioritizing women over men. He simply took the ladder down to the basement where society had lowered women. With His nail-scarred hands, He lifted them to a place of respect and credibility.

Jesus gets a bad rap for things that “church” does and has done. But Jesus never treated women with anything other than respect. It’s no wonder I love Him the way I do.

Boys Will Be Boys Unless You Turn Them Into Cross-Dressers

You know I am hopelessly sarcastic, right?

One of my friends sent me a link to a fashion blog that commented on this article. She wanted to know my opinion.  My opinion is multi-faceted and I'm not sure if it's worth that much.  But I do want to open up this interesting discussion.  I mean, all the other blogs are talking about it;)

  First, the disclaimer that I do not have sons.  Just daughters.  Who do not own a single Barbie.  Girls who run fast and hike and get muddy and one who was quite the Karate Kid for awhile.  She had the meanest 5-year-old Tiger Eyes ever.  She also begs me to buy glitter nail polish every time we are at Target and thinks I should buy garments for myself with red sequins on them. I don't know if my feelings would change if I assumed motherly responsibility for a little boy. I think the argument would still seem valid that a little girl could be pictured doing any number of boyish things and there might even be praise for the photo shoot.

Maybe its because I am a mother of girls, and society these days accepts gender-bending in girls more than it does in boys, but I say we all have a bit of yin with our yang. Or vice versa.  Males and females have both testosterone and progesterone coursing through their bodies.

How many boys have at one time tried painted nails? Nailpolish on boys is not a new media item. In the 1944 film National Velvet, very boyish Donald gets his toenails painted by big sister Edwina.  Not a central plot line - an aside.  The kid also catches ants and wears them in a bottle around his neck. 

  I have witnessed fathers be horrified at their very, very Americanly masculine sons appearing in big sister's dress up high heels.  They holler to the boy to take off those shoes! Did you not see him just bash his sister in the head with a toy leaf-blower to get her to hand over those purple pumps? He has B-O-Y written all over him at age 3, with or without the girly get-up. Do you ever think we take all this too seriously? We want our kids to fit into certain molds and are so worried about the consequences of everything we do that we forget to be playful. Play is important: kids work out all kinds of stuff through play.

  My own husband confesses that he's glad we have no sons.  He is afraid he would not be as "whatever you want to be when you grow up you can be (except a stripper)" as he is with the girls.  He says that even though he would like to be supportive if his son wanted to be a ballet dancer, he would really not want his son to be a ballet dancer.  Even if ballet dancers really are very strong and athletic.  They wear those tights. My husband knows things about growing up as a boy that I do not.

The deeper issue involves the rigid confines of acceptable masculine behavior.  Boys are under lots of pressure to be just the right kind of male.  No tears, lots of toughness, no pink.  I can supply you with all manner of feminist critiques and theories about the oppressiveness of masculine ideals on boys and trying to fit people into either/or binaries.  Why is it so important for our children to be the perfect girl or boy?

None of this addresses the plight of individuals who really do not fit into M or F categories.  If you want to explore this with your heart, I recommend Middlesex by G. Eugenides. Don't read it if you find this discussion at all squirmy.

I fully expect disagreement with what I am about to say next: I think we get too uptight about some things and not uptight enough about others.  Is cross-dressing worse than buying clothing from companies that make huge profit margins using questionable labor practices? (ahem, JCrew, company of disputed ad).  Is teaching our kids wanton materialism just fine? The issue of nailpolish on boys is much ado about nothing.  The advertising campaign is the actual sticking point: but haven't we crossed that line  a long time ago?  Don't we accept all kinds of crazy depictions in order to sell something?  Why is this one getting us so up in arms?

My guess is, if we Rozelles happened to have a surprise baby boy join the four of us, with 2 big sisters, he might end up with nailpolish on at least once in his life. I wouldn't send him to masculinity camp (apparently they have these in Malaysia), nor would I use him as a poster child for "liberal  propaganda."  I would, however, probably tell the kids they'd better not drip polish on my dining room table or hardwood floors.

As for supporting JCrew - I don't.  I'm long past buying anything at JCrew.  $180 jeans?! That's not what I call affordable fashion.

Good Friday

The way Christians celebrate the same church holidays every year could get stale, but for myself and many I talk to, some new or fresh aspect often reveals itself in the familiar passages. Today on Good Friday, as I am thinking about Jesus' voluntary offering of himself to undergo this terrible death experience on our behalf, the idea that He chose to give up his rights is what is on my mind.

Jesus defended others.  He urged us to fight for justice.  When it came to himself, however, he sacrificed.  The portrait of Jesus in the gospels is of someone who sought everyone else's healing and restoration.  We are not presented with a picture of a person who was concerned about his own rights, fulfillment of his own needs, etc.

Honestly, I spend an awful lot of time chasing my own desires and comparatively little on others' healing and restoration.  Jesus' example looms as drastic and unrealistic - if we did that everyone would step on us.  They put him to death, after all.  But if most of us lived like Jesus, there would be a whole lot less oppression in the world.  Most oppression occurs in pursuit of one's comforts and desires.

Everyone needs to hear different messages, and that is the beauty in the complexity of the gospels.  You many need to concentrate on a different aspect of the crucifixion story today.  I encourage you to do that.  I know, however, that I need to reflect on the sacrifice part.

Slacker

That's me (in black).  I could try to blame my sister (in red) for my lack of posting the past few days, but since she managed to post on Tuesday, that excuse fails.  This photo of us was taken near Eastern Market on Capitol Hill in Washington, DC on Sunday.  A lovely, lovely day.

I packed up my children on Saturday with the pressing knowledge that next year and for all the ones that follow, I might have the kind of job that does not allow me to take off with them on their Spring Break.  And I wanted to make one last special Spring Break memory for them. Plus, Aunt Kristy and Uncle Mike are having a baby this August and cannot make the trip to us as they always do. My husband had to work, but he threw a poker night in our absence and I came home, I kid you not, to a refrigerator packed with beer.

It was one of those visits when afterwards you find yourself trying to shake off the post-trip blues.  I love hanging out with my sister and brother-in-law.  I love big city dwelling.  I love getting away from my responsibilities for awhile.  I love carving out time for only exploring and spending time with people I really like.  And I love the 70 degree weather that most certainly did not follow me home.

 I do not like Pennsylvania highways, however.  There is ALWAYS pea soup fog, downpours, or major construction projects every time I go through that state.  I also do not like that Anna now throws up when she watches movies in the car.  Crabby, bored Anna makes for a long and unpleasant trip.  I am not a fan of post-trip laundry or tallying trip receipts.  But I really, really, really don't like the sad, empty, feeling that accompanies the aftermath.  The kids are feeling it too, which makes it even worse.  My husband, however, is happy to have us back.  He reported that it was fun to be a bachelor again for exactly 24 hours.

Back to papers, cleaning, appointments, laundry, etc. And blogging. The stuff of real life:)  One of the odd things I know deep in my heart is that I belong in this place at this time.  But I thoroughly enjoyed my stint as a slacker.  New "real" posts to come.  Maybe.  I do have some deadlines looming that I totally ignored.....

A Woman without a Man

Imagine this: You, your husband and three small children live in a tiny home on a small piece of land. You live on a few dollars a day, and the garden that you tend helps to feed your family along with your husband’s meager income. You may not have a lot, but you are surviving, healthy, and happy.

Then your husband dies. Suffering from the grief of such a crushing loss would be enough to cope with. But then after his funeral you are then approached by your brother-in-law and his friends brandishing clubs and making threats that you do not doubt he will follow through. While the home and land where you live should be yours under the law, your brother-in-law and his friends have more power and status than you. After all, you are just a woman and, even less, a widow; a woman without a man. They force you off your land and suddenly not only have you lost your husband, but now you and your three children are homeless with no viable source of food or income.

This is a story similar to those that IJM sees on a fairly frequent basis in some countries where we work. While IJM’s Illegal Property Seizure casework is somewhat less familiar to many than other areas of our casework, it is just as crushing and threatens women and children who are already in vulnerable situations.

I’ll admit that when I was first becoming familiar with IJM, this type of story didn’t grab at my heart quite like others did. But when you look closely at these stories, I hope you’ll see what I saw. They are compelling examples of what many people, often women, suffer in communities where they are seen as having lesser status.

Women and orphans in these types of situations, while they have legal right to their property, are often left without any recourse when they are sometimes violently forced off their property. They often do not know what steps to take and may feel as though they have no options. The good news is that in the communities where we work, IJM can successfully advocate for them and oftentimes restore them to their land and secure restitution for them. Once they are restored to their land, our aftercare workers often teach them the skills or help them secure the education necessary to become independent and able to provide a sustainable living.

The women and children in these situations are often amazingly resilient, and many of these stories turn from one of vulnerability to inspiring victory, such as the story of Veronica: http://www.ijm.org/newsfromthefield/ijmugandaclientovercomesaviolentthiefwhosoughttostealherhomeandproperty

I would encourage you to read more about these specific cases and familiarize yourself with what many women around the world are forced to contend with. Click on the factsheet and story links under Illegal Property Seizure in this link: http://www.ijm.org/ourwork/whatwedo. Here you will find many of the elements that inspire me about IJM’s clients: bravery, tenacity and unwillingness to accept the injustice of the system where they are caught.

Their Eyes Were Watching For Book Two

Here it is! Our next book club discussion book!  The facilitator will launch the discussion on Friday, May 6.  This one is kind of a classic.  I saw it at my library on CD, and you can get an mp3 version as well (for those of you who don't like to or just don't have time to sit and read).  It's available for Kindle as well. It's spring break next week in CNY, so I know there are some teachers out there who might have a little extra reading time...

 I am taking away all of your excuses.  The more the merrier:)

What Christianity Needs, Inspired by a Feminist Jewish Rabbi

I read an article by Alana Suskin, a Jewish Rabbi that expressed so well, oddly enough, how I feel that Christianity and feminism can work together in a way that makes sense to me.  Only for her, it was Judaism and feminism.

 Suskin shared in her article "Hearing the Daughter Voice" that she did not grow up a practicing religious Jew, but had a connection to her Jewishness.  She knew that being a Jew meant that she was linked to social justice, to making the world a better place.  In college, she for some strange reason found herself wanting to defend Judaism when it came under attack as a patriarchal religion, and it drove her to study it. She became so connected to Judaism that she decided to pursue becoming a rabbi.  She continued to struggle with the misogynist tones in Orthodox practice, and concluded that "Jews need feminism because without feminism, Judaism ceases to be true to itself. " She sees Judaism as a religion that has always "resisted the degrading paradigms of dominant culture." Since feminism is the mechanism by which modern society questions dominant culture, feminism can remind Judaism of what it is really about: being God's hands on earth.

This article intrigued me, and though our faith traditions are different, so much of what Suskin said resonated with me.  Christianity is Jesus' religion.  Jesus who saw everyone.  He was about turning the status quo upside down.  Yet Christianity has been guilty of some ugly stuff: sexism, racism, propping up oppressive regimes, witch hunts, etc.  Christianity needs feminism too, to remind us what we are about: continuing the work of Jesus' hands on earth. I would also add that Christianity needs Jesus too.

Another thing Suskin said is that in her tradition, they are asked whether it is better to study or do.  "The answer is that study is better, when it leads to action."  I loved that too.  Don't we have that debate in Christian circles as well? And I can vouch for countless feminist articles that talk about action vs. theory.

The quote that sealed that I was going to write about this article:

"This is what makes me a feminist: the knowledge that God is present in every voice, and so every voice must have the chance to speak." 

Amen, Sister! 

Don't Be Afraid

Are there times in your life when you are paying more attention?  Lent is one of those times, for me.  Last year during Lent, I saw the lack of peace I had in my life.  This year, everywhere I turn, I feel like I'm being told to have no fear. That Eminem song "Not Afraid" even pops up on my Pandora station. (That does not seem like a very feminist or Christian thing to admit...)

My pastor, this Sunday, said that in the Bible when God was about to ask someone to do something or announce a life-changing event about to happen, the message would begin with "Don't be afraid."  He also pointed out that people do really dumb things when they are afraid.

The times I regret most are times that I gave in to fear.  The times that are most memorable or joyful, the ones I'm either proud of or thankful for, often involved pushing through fear.

Looking at our recent posts, I was struck again by the "fear not" concept.  Our Snow Flower discussion has turned to talking about unnaturally bending ourselves to fit into cultural standards.  What if we had the courage to not define ourselves by others' reactions to us?  What if we were brave enough to point out the things in our culture that enslave us and declare "Enough!" We cut off, hide, or distort pieces of ourselves, and what we are left with afterward is a settled-for version of who we could be.

We are exploring International Justice Mission this month, an organization whose employees and clients face down fear on a daily basis.  There are so many people who reach down deep to find courage to get up in the morning.  Addicts. Survivors. Vampire-Slayers (I just read an article, seriously, arguing about how Buffy was a feminist TV show, so I was inspired to throw that in). I think about Nancy Gruver's article that encouraged us be brave enough to figure out what our own dreams and passions are and to fight for them, so that our daughters will learn to do the same.

Both feminism and Christianity offer us better visions of the world and beckon us to join the quest. But something restrains us, convinces us that we are better off where we are.

Fear.

Quiet and nagging or terrifying and looming, we wonder "what if" and talk ourselves into backing away from the threat of opportunity. The way we live out our feminism or Christianity is often just a series of reactions to fear.

What's in the forefront of your mind?  What are you wrestling with?  What are you longing for?

Don't be afraid.

How was your weekend?

If you saw my post last week, you know this weekend was the IJM Global Prayer Gathering in D.C. Our Field Office Directors and some field office staff from around the world came to share with us their stories, struggles and requests for prayer. It was both refreshing and draining to hear the stories of our work in the field, from the people who witness it every day. It’s certainly not all glamorous and glorious. Sometimes it’s dangerous and tedious. This weekend was a poignant reminder for me that even though it can seem so far away sometimes, the names and faces behind the stories are real and the heartbreak and pain is intense. Like Tiffany said in Monday’s post, when you hear the stories and see the faces, suddenly any pretense and philosophical argument kind of fades into the background and you just want to hop on a plane to these places and yank these people from their situations. Of course, that isn’t the best and most sustainable method, nor is it at all the way IJM goes about its work.

As I mentioned last week, one of the areas of casework where IJM focuses, and perhaps one that it is best known for, is working against sex trafficking of children and adults. Sometimes women and girls are lured into the sex trafficking world with a promise of a good job, only to find out later what they are really being forced into. Other times, they are sold by complicit family members or drugged and kidnapped into brothels. However they arrive, hell awaits on the other side. The story that Tiffany linked to in her last blog post, while not a story of an IJM client, has many familiar elements to those working in our field offices.

Rescue out of these situations is difficult and a long process, and not always successful. And once women and girls are removed from sex trafficking, the battle doesn’t end. The work of our aftercare teams is long and difficult, as you can imagine the wounds and scars this leaves on the people ground into this industry. I would encourage you to check out this link, http://www.ijm.org/ourwork/whatwedo, and click on the fact sheet about sex trafficking and read a story of an IJM client. It may feel overwhelming at first, but it’s so important that we are awake to the reality of what is happening so we can know how to best respond. Several stories about IJM cases can be found at http://www.ijm.org/newsfromthefield/january-february2011. The individual stories really help to bring reality to the facts and figures.

What I do want you to know is that there are so many stories of hope after this darkness. There are some amazing success stories; there would have to be to make this work sustainable for those who participate every day, right? One such story is Project Lantern: http://www.ijm.org/projectlantern. The success of this story represents rescue and healing in the lives of many, as well as prevention for so many others never have to experience the horror of sex trafficking.

Just as the pain of those going through the experience is intense, so is the joy after the fact. I hope that we have the courage to embrace both.

Rescue the Oppressed, and Hold the Quotation Marks

There are a few issues where I cannot even pretend to be balanced and fair. So I have been agonizing over how to write this post.  It is taking me hours and lots of rewrites to try to strike the right tone. It starts to get super lengthy, and it starts to get accusing, and neither is what I feel belongs here.  Whenever I get into situations like this I sit back and ask, "What am I trying to accomplish?"

 I want you to know that there are experts, organizations, etc. out there that actively oppose or criticize the work of IJM and organizations like it.

When reading an article I usually try hard to have an open mind: however, I am not objective on the subject of human trafficking.  When I write papers on this subject, (I am researching one now) I have emotional reactions reading accusations against faith-based and feminist groups of trotting out charged images of the "oppressed", yes they put it in quotes like that, to promote an agenda of Western domination.   "Rescue" is frowned upon.  I am aware that the West often swoops in to interfere unwanted in the Third World. Is anyone else at this point seeing that scene in Hotel Rwanda where the people holed up in the hotel realize that the rest of the world is not coming to save them after all?

http://priceofsex.org/content/multimedia
When I watch Jenea's story, the snarky quotes around "oppressed" just wither.  If this were me, RESCUE ME  - yes, use that word, use the U.S. Marines, I don't care.  Raped 50 times a day? Am I thinking of anything but escape? These women are jumping off of balconies!

What I hope you get out of the IJM series this month is that the people that work for this organization put themselves in the way of physical, emotional, and mental harm to "rescue" the "oppressed."  They are lawyers who could be making lots more money and better names for themselves elsewhere.  They are undercover and aftercare workers who might need years of therapy to help them deal with the things they have seen and heard and been a part of.  These people are not trying to do anything but loose the chains of injustice and set the oppressed free.  I hope you come away understanding what they do and why they do it.  Oppression is not just a politically charged buzz word, and there are occasions for rescue. 

What Kind of Feminist Am I?!

This blog, as you know, is a space for exploration.  I am the kind of feminist that feminists do not claim, and the kind of Christian that makes some Christians pray for my salvation.  No exaggeration on either count.  I'm warning you that next week, I'm pulling out some controversy. Starting today.

My mother-in-law flew out here for a few days so that I could fly down to Orlando to a conference with my husband, where he would be receiving an award.  Fun fact: I still have never been to Disney World. Or Epcot. Or Universal Studios (although I did snag some Harry Potter merchandise for two diehard fans in my house - a quidditch jersey for Anna and a butter beer mug for Moll).  What kind of American am I?! But I don't pass up beaches.  Ever.  Especially ones with the "National Seashore" tag.  They never disappoint.  So Jeff and I headed over to Cape Canaveral National Seashore and walked on miles of undeveloped, gorgeous beach.  We stood for a long time and watched manatees in a canal that connects that ocean to the Intercoastal.  We ate so well that I need to detox.  I hung out by the pool while he was in sessions.  Went out with some old friends.

The real reason we were there, however, was because Jeff was accepting this award, and he asked me to be there with him when he did.  I am so glad I went.  There is something meltingly endearing about seeing this man shy and nervous and yet excited and proud, being honored for something he worked hard for.  When he made his way back to the table amid applause, he sat down, adjusted his hair, tie, jacket, etc. the way he does when he's self-conscious, then took my hand and whispered, "I'm so glad you are here."

Some of my feminist stripes are denied because I have thrown my support behind this guy.  I would have gone to this award luncheon if it were in Siberia.  (Thankfully, it was somewhere much sunnier).  As strange as it is that I would rather watch manatees peacefully rising to the surface of a canal than stand in line at Disney, I also have made choices that helped my husband more than me.  Why? Why would any self-respecting "feminist" do that?

Love sounds like a pat answer, doesn't it?  People do all kinds of irrational things for love.  People stay in bad relationships for love.

You may disagree, but I think my marriage is healthy.  In relationships, we certainly hurt one another, but we also make sacrifices for the benefit of the other.  We mutually support one another.  Feminists sometimes contend that while women can have these kinds of relationships with one another, it cannot be so with men, because of their dominant position in society.  So then, an African American should never be friends with a white person? A homosexual should never be friends with a heterosexual? The person in the less privileged position should never attempt to be in a real relationship with someone who might have more power, because it might be used against them?  That severely narrows possibilities for friendship.

This is one of those times I think Christianity and feminism can synthesize.  Love your neighbor as you love yourself.  One of Jesus' great teachings.  If you think about this, you are opening up to a whole lot of exploitation if you follow this.  I am not advocating for heedless plunging into risky relationships.  Certainly there are those who cannot be trusted, and we cannot just let ourselves be used.  We do need to exercise some self-protection, because, we're humans, after all.  But love releases us to a experience a deeper, wider, richer life.

I cannot write if not honestly.  Yes, there are times I think my husband is utterly selfish.  But I believe, in general, that being married to him is one of the best things about my life.  That statement can be criticized and picked apart, but I stand by it like I will say that I honestly think I will have lived a full life without going to Disney World.  My husband is a good, good man.  A good father, a good husband, a kind and respectful human being.  He does not step on people to move up the ladder.  He never raises a hand to hurt anyone (though I know the dog really tempts him). He walks other people's crying babies, he helps elderly people with their packages, and he uses his intelligence and time to make the world a better place.  He deserves to win awards, and he deserves to have love and support when he does (or doesn't).  And, I just really like him.  A lot.  Even if he is one of the biggest reasons I will never be considered a real feminist;)

My Pleasure

This morning, I woke up and worried about many things: finances, transportation woes of Washington, D.C., my crazy schedule for the week. But I didn’t worry that anyone in my family would be forced into slavery, that I would be forced out of my apartment today, or that my husband would be arrested and beaten by the police and held in prison for years with no charge being brought against him. These are the worries of many women around the world this morning and evening.

That is why it is a privilege for me to tell you about an organization that works to eliminate this

possibility from many women’s’ lives: International Justice Mission (IJM). IJM is not only dear to my heart but it’s also where I spend the majority of my waking hours, because you see, I’m fortunate enough to call it my place of employment.

If you’ve never heard of IJM let me take a moment to introduce you to the organization. IJM is a Human Rights organization that secures justice for victims of slavery, sexual exploitation and other forms of violent oppression. Much of the work we do has a direct impact on women who are oppressed in many different ways. During the month of April, I’ll be highlighting one area of the work we do each week, but for a quick overview, here are the areas of casework that IJM works in:

• Forced labor slavery
• Child Sexual Assault
• Sex trafficking of children and adults
• Illegal Detention
• Illegal Property Seizure
• Hill Tribe Citizenship

IJM works in conjunction with state and local authorities in our areas of casework to combat these injustices. One of the things I love about IJM is that the work is founded in our four-fold purpose: Victim Relief, Perpetrator Accountability, Victim Aftercare and Structural Transformation.

I’m excited to introduce you to some of our areas of work a bit more closely in the coming weeks, so I hope this gives you enough to chew on for now. If you want to know more, just check out our website at www.ijm.org.

One last timely tidbit: IJM is a Christian organization –and because what we do is so difficult, prayer is an integral part of our work. Each year, we have a Global Prayer Gathering here in the Washington, D.C. area (where our headquarters are based), and this year's GPG is this weekend. If you want to participate online, check out this link: http://gpgonline.ijm.org. It’s a great way to get a peek into our work and, if you want to, partner with us through prayer.

book number one

So here it is. A first attempt. We’ll see how it goes.

Should I lay some groundwork? I’m not going to get my feelings hurt. Disagreeing, different points of view, new ideas, I’m all for all of them. If you don’t like a book, I’d love to hear why. So don’t be shy! We can disagree and be nice, right?!

I’m not exactly sure how to approach the post, so I’ll just try this first off. Thoughts. Questions. Ponderings. Feedback on format is appreciated, too.

Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See. A friend handed it off to me. A friend who knows my leeriness regarding contemporary authors. (Thankfully, I have several friends working to remedy that in me.)

One thing that struck me about this book is how I related to it. I have no experience with the culture of China in the 1800s. I’ve never had my feet bound. I’ve never been viewed as a worthless branch of a family tree. But I have been a friend. I’ve had friends. There are experiences of women that transcend culture. Friendship is one of them.

The foot binding was a tough thing to read. I haven’t read a lot of feminist theory or writing, but I’m sure there are lots of ideas about foot binding and the message it sent to women in a culture. Maybe I was just responding to the act with my western sensibilities, but I felt like that message of visible bondage of women that foot binding implied was evident in a lot of the book. The picture, as Lily was fleeing with Snow Flower and her husband, of the men carrying their mothers, pushing their wives in carts. Women who are unable to even leave their homes without assistance. Women who's bones break after walking too far. Women who die because they lose their balance walking down a mountain. Talk about a literal manifestation of forced submission. What were your thoughts about the foot binding? Both the practice literally as it was described in the book and the metaphor? The act of “mother love” that the women called upon to inflict disfiguration upon their daughters?

How about the value women possessed as opposed with their responsibility? Over and over again, women, daughters, are talked about as nothing. Their only value being in the sons they can produce. And then the amazing amount of cultural responsibility they bore for the actual bearing of children. If they didn’t have sons, if the sons were weak, if they miscarried, if they couldn’t have children, it’s all their fault. They’ve done something wrong. The fate of the family lies in the wombs of these “worthless” daughters. There are rules dictating how they should conceive and when, rules for what they should eat and do and even think while with child, and then rules for grieving. It kept striking me the amount of credit and/or blame the women got while at the same time being completely devalued as human beings.

The changing of fate. Another theme that came up again and again. Can fate be changed? The answers varied. Lily herself told Snow Flower that they could change the fate of Snow Flower’s daughter, just as Lily had “changed her own fate.” (Only, Lily didn’t really have anything to do with it, did she? She didn’t make her feet what they were. And her feet are the things that changed her life.) Madame Wang works hard to change Snow Flower’s fate and then resigns herself to saying that fate cannot be changed. Lily, at the end of her life, says, “…nor can you change another person’s destiny.” But didn’t she? Didn’t she change the destiny of Snow Flower’s son? And her granddaughter? Is it even necessary to change a destiny? Didn’t Lily change the lives of the women whose autobiographies she wrote? She says, “I wanted them to place a value on their lives, which for the most part were dismal.” Is giving value to a person’s life as important as changing her destiny?

Here’s an old English teacher question for you…does the fact that Lily is the narrator change our perception of the events? The fact that she’s eighty years old, looking back at her life? Does she romanticize memories? Remember herself as more of a villain than she was? Is her telling painted over by the grief and regret she’s borne for forty plus years? Does it even matter? This is one of those that probably either intrigues you or annoys you. What about her background? Her feeling that she was never loved for who she was? How does that play a part in who she becomes?

Lily seems to be at a loss for helping Snow Flower deal with her emotional turmoil. Her grief. Her sadness. Her shame. It seems like Lily wants to help Snow Flower, but she keeps falling back to the rules. To the cultural laws. Is it because she’s cruel? She can’t empathize? Or is it easier? Is legalism a safe place? Black and white are so much neater than the mess of gray?

OK, maybe I’ve asked too many questions. Maybe I’ve written too much. But I can’t wait to hear what you think. About all of it.