Making Choices

I ran into a colleague of mine today at the conference (there are a lot of PSR and GTU folk about,) and she had heard, at the PSR Breakfast this morning, that I had a blog. She asked me whether or not I'd talked about some of the events that had happened this spring at PSR. I said that I hadn't. She seemed disappointed in me. I explained that I'd not been able to process them yet, and not been able to integrate other people's experiences and my own. As I was telling her about this, and as I thought about it as I walked on the beach today, I realized that this was something I needed to write about. I'd had a blog entry a while back that was too half-formed for me to put out. I think that my thoughts on this issue are, at this point, much better processed, and I'm beginning to understand what the issues are.

This spring, a number of incidents happened that brought the issue of racism to a head on campus. A number of insensitive things were said, or done (for instance, an African Catholic nun, in full habit, was asked whether she was the new cleaning person.) Students felt that perhaps, the effort on campus to eliminate racism (called the "Dismantling Racism Committee") was too much of a sideline, and not enough of a central focus for the institution. One of the incidents, which was the singing of an African American spiritual with altered words at chapel, was something that although I don't know the minute details of, what I do know, links directly to my own story. These events came to a head, resulted in a couple of actions: a chapel service where those of us of African descent showed solidarity by wearing traditional clothing, or some item that showed solidarity, and a day of mourning for racism, where people were encouraged to wear black, and be in mourning.

In the end, I think that all of this was very fruitful, if difficult. The issue was brought again to people's attention - it is an issue that tends to be ignored, otherwise. People had to grapple with issues of privilege, and hear about the kinds of things that some people have to deal with every day. Although it should be said that from my perspective, PSR is paying more attention to racism and putting more effort into addressing it than any other institution of higher education that I've ever been a part of (which, by now, is quite a few.) It was, in the end, useful for me, because I am getting a better handle on my own issues and perspectives about racism.

So back to the incident that connects to my story. I only heard about this second hand, and so I likely have part of the story wrong. But this is how I heard it, and how I understand it, and it will become clear why I have chosen to talk about it, even as unclear as it is. At one chapel service, a traditional African-American spiritual was sung with different wording, to make it more gender inclusive. The different wording as I understand, originates with a common practice in MCC churches to modify the language of some traditional songs. Some people felt that this modification was disrespectful of the African-American tradition from which the song comes (and, thus, considered it at least disrespectful, and possibly racist act to modify the words.)

This is a complicated issue, and feels to me a little like dueling oppressions. This connects to my own story as someone who is both African-American, and thus someone who experiences racism, and queer, thus someone who experiences homophobia. And, it also makes me a member of two communities and cultures, which, in my personal experience and life, have felt very separate.

I came out in the mid 1980s, in a very segregated city (Cleveland, OH). I lived in Cleveland Heights, which was a rare example of an integrated suburb of Cleveland, unlike the rest, which were almost universally segregated (as was the city itself.) Because of the time and place that I came out, as well as my own upbringing in a largely white suburb of New York, and my experience at an almost entirely white college (Bennington,) when I came out, I chose to focus my social energies on the gay community. It was also the beginning of the AIDS epidemic, and there was a lot to do. And, frankly, at varied times of my life, the homophobia that I have experienced in African-American settings has often been worse than the racism I've experienced in queer settings. So, in what was at the time, an unconscious way, I made a choice. I have, most recently, primarily because I am much more aware of my own inner processes, and conscious about my actions and the way I live in the world, become increasingly cognizant of the effects of that choice, both positive and negative.

This is not to say, obviously, that in any way, I denied my ethnicity, or denied that I experienced racism. And it's not to say that I don't identify as African-American. It's just to say that culturally, I tend to feel more lesbian than I feel African-American. Of course, in the end, I'm both, and they are inseparable. But the realities of our society seem to often mean that I have to make a choice.

This last semester at PSR has been very instructive to me about that choice. PSR is a place that has, for varied reasons (most of which, I think honestly, have not a whole lot to do with PSR) been able to get over the hump of being completely welcoming to gays and lesbians, but has had a much harder time with race. I have, in general, felt completely at home at PSR as a lesbian. PSR has a disproportionate share of gay, lesbian and bisexual students.

The colleague mentioned above said to me at one point that eventually, that choice that I made will hurt me. And I realized something really important at that moment. On one hand, the choice has already hurt me. It hurt me the minute I made it unconsciously 20 years ago, and the society which made it necessary to make that choice has hurt me ever since. What I came to realize was that choice doesn't have to make me suffer.

We live, especially those people who don't have the privilege of race, class, heterosexuality, or ability, in a world of hurt. Actually, I think everyone does, but some people end up hurting more than others, and this society seems to have a way of unequal distrubution of hurt.  But suffering, that is, experiencing that pain in a disruptive, overwhelming and oppressive way, is, at some level, something we have a little bit of control over. Both the writer of the African-American spiritual "My Help" (which was the subject of the incident mentioned above) as well as His Holiness the Dalai Lama, the leader of a people who have been showered with hurt, have some wisdom about this. We can choose to respond to the pain in a way that causes us more pain and suffering, or we can choose to respond to the pain in a way that helps us transcend it.

Without question, we live in a context that promotes all sorts of forms of oppression. But I meet people one at a time. I will assume that each person I meet, until proven otherwise, like me, is imperfect and makes mistakes, but is of good intent. I had a great exchange with a fellow student on the last day of one of my classes. He'd said something that I felt didn't reflect what I knew about his attitude about race. While we were sitting at the back of the class, I just gently told him what it sounded like he'd said. We talked a bit, and he appreciated my coming to him with this, and not letting it fester. I heard a little bit about his perspective and experience, and he heard how what he had said (mistakenly) made me feel. We both grew.

This is a choice I am making. And I think it's the right one, at least for me. I personally can't (and, honestly, don't want to) tackle racism on an institutional or societal level. As I've said before, it's not my job. But I can come to each interaction, and each relationship I have with consciousness, compassion, and a desire to be honest and real.

technorati tags: race, racism, homophobia, queer, africanamerican