The Tragedies of Solitude

By now we've all heard about the tragedy in Isla Vista over the weekend.  We've all heard about Elliot Rodger, the troubled 22-year-old who went on a shooting spree that killed at least six people before killing himself.  We've over-heard of it, and we're sick of thinking about it.  I know that I, personally, look forward to the next full day I can go without thinking about this tragedy and others like it.

But that day has not yet come, at least not for me.  There's something present in the media coverage of this particular mass shooting that wasn't there in some of the other recent ones.  (Caveat: I hate that we live in a world where I can compare mass shootings in a manner similar to natural disasters or national elections: they impact us all and come almost as frequently.)  Various articles written about Rodger--specifically those that chronicle his history of simultaneously hating and lusting after women--bring up his participation in various forums on the internet, most notably one called PUAhate.com (I believe it has been taken down this week?  I can't find it, anyway).  For more on what PUAhate is and how Rodger was involved, click here, here, or here.

I don't want to get into the particulars of PUAhate.com, especially since I haven't been able to look at the site myself. I don't believe that Pick-up artists or their haters are responsible for the lives that Rodger took.  I don't believe gun owners are responsible for the lives that Rodger took.  I don't believe that some poor model is responsible for the lives that Rodger took.  I know that Elliot Rodger is responsible for his actions and that, beyond the man himself, the system of influences that lead him to make the choices he did is too complex to be able to point at a single element of his life and call it the primary culprit.

Nonetheless, I think that this tragedy should cause us to look more carefully at our lives on the internet.  I've outlined my thoughts on internet social life before, and I've even written on this blog about the importance of public goods as a method of keeping people from losing touch with other people.  Elliot Rodger brings these previous thoughts of mine back to the forefront of my mind, and suddenly, I feel like there are few greater causes to champion than those of community membership and worldly citizenship.

The other day, while reading one of the aforementioned articles about Rodger's PUAhate.com involvement, I stumbled upon WizardChan.org.  (Caveat: I urge you not to go there yourself unless and until you're fully emotionally prepared for it; I can say that I wasn't ready for the hate and fear that I met there, and it has greatly and negatively affected me this week.)  WizardChan.org is a forum website populated primarily by men who seem to be aged from teens to upper-twenties, perhaps older.  From what I've read on the site, these men hang a large portion of their identity on the fact that they are virgins and that that separates them from society in a large, often crippling way.  They call themselves Wizards, which is where the name of the site comes from, and they refer to other people (I suppose under the assumption that all other people, even who just don't consider their sexual-inactivity to be fundamental to their being, are sexually active) as "normies."

All of that, taken by itself, sounds pretty harmless, if a bit unfortunate and strange.  I can't speak to why these men think that their virginity is such an enormous and terrible part of their lives, and I don't know what makes these men choose to form a community around such a trait, but those oddities are not things I want to talk about here.

If you've been to WizardChan or other sites like it--sites (most often forum sites) based around one strangely specific common interest, personality trait, etc.--you'll know that they've developed their own language, their own etiquette, their own systems of self-moderation and social hierarchies.  They are not unsophisticated communities.  Users on these sites are often more entrenched in the forum life than, say, I am on the forum sites I've used to find answers to questions about how to jump my Prius' battery, change out the HD on my laptop, or get emoji on my phone.  

If you've been to WizardChan or other sites like it--many of the above sites, but specifically the ones with a large population of very negative, frightening, even at times violent and threatening posts--you know that these communities are not overall friendly.  The user base is not necessarily made up entirely of people who, like Elliot Rodger, will act on violent thoughts and words, but the threatening nature of the forums cannot be denied.  WizardChan is full of posts spewing hatred and bitterness towards "normies," many of which condone violence and rape in an offhand, desensitized manner.

WizardChan makes me physically sick.  Sick because I cannot square the circle of these people's perspective on life and other people.  Sick because I want so badly for there to be a way to destroy the lens of hate and fear that they use to see the world.  Sick because, even those these people are in the minority, I fear meeting them in the real world and possibly becoming one of the "whores" they rail against, simply because I made pleasant conversation with no intention of turning it into a romantic or sexual interaction.

But even forums without an outright violent bend give me considerable pause.  This is a livejournal post from years ago that hearkens back to an old forum I used to frequent: AntiShurtugal.  The forum itself is no longer running, but it was a bastion of editorials and conversations discussing, negatively, Christopher Paolini's Inheritance series of books.  Some time in high school, I went from moderately liking Eragon and its sequels to absolutely detesting them.  (For the record, I believe it was a relatively slow descent, and it probably had at least a little to do with the fact that I was a teenaged writer who felt trapped in an inability to publish my books.)  I briefly found a community of like-minded people in AntiShurtugal: these people would write long articles analyzing the series piece by piece, tearing it apart for its lack of artistry, for its plot holes and inconsistencies, and doing so joyfully.  I don't know that I made many contributions, but I consumed others' like water in a desert.

I had friends in real life who shared my dislike of Eragon, but commiserations with them never got me very far: it wasn't a conversation they wanted to belabor because it just wasn't as important to them as it was to me.  Had there been no AntiShurtugal, I honestly might not have hated Eragon as much as I did, since hatred takes energy, and AntiShurtugal was the only renewable source I had.

And that's why specific community forum sites on the internet always scare me to a degree.  Even if a forum site were based around unicorns and butterflies and making vegan gluten free candies to give to homeless veterans, I would worry about its members.  These internet communities that base themselves around what might otherwise be a single, even unimportant facet of a human life give those facets greater importance than they would otherwise be able to sustain.  Thus, they warp the users' perspectives of the world; it was easy to forget that Eragon wasn't universally hated and that there were legitimate reasons to enjoy the series, because I spent so much of my time around people who took its lack of quality for granted.  

Forming communities on the internet is not in and of itself a bad thing.  When paired with healthy and full lives spent with real people in the real world, especially with people who think differently and have different interests and beliefs than we do, internet communities can be pleasant and even important places in society. 

But even the best internet communities can cultivate dark sides full of hate and bitterness that spreads negative thoughts and worldviews.  I'd like to reiterate that I don't think that PUAhate or WizardChan or their users are responsible for Elliot Rodger's actions.  But they are responsible for making sure they don't allow themselves to follow in his footsteps.  Hate and anger like Rodger's doesn't need mental illness in order to be unhealthy and lead to tragedy.  And lives of solitude spent finding solace in like-minded lonely people on the internet doesn't need much help to foster such hate and anger.

Net Neutrality

The following is a comment I decided to file with the FCC.  Who knows what good it will do, but at least I felt like I was doing something.  I'm not sure I fully understand the nuances and intricacies of the net neutrality issue, but I feel confident that the issue is important enough to warrant proactivity, even from those of us who find ourselves perplexed by its complexities.

To Whom it May Concern:

I second the thoughts of such other commenters as Rob Vasko and Tarrence Van As, that internet telecommunications companies should be reclassified as common carriers. Nearly every major industry and social infrastructure, not to mention a large percentage of United State's citizens, rely on the internet daily for everything from news and entertainment to education and innovation. If ISPs are granted the ability to choose who gets access to whose content, those ISPs' interests will always win out, and that will create an unbalanced, unfair, and undemocratic system.

While some corners of the internet may seem to be luxuries rather than necessities, and still others are even illegal, the decision regarding who should or should not be allowed to either produce or consume those areas of the internet does not belong with ISPs. ISPs are private companies with little to no fair and public oversight or regulation, unlike law enforcement or government, and as such, their decisions are far less likely to be in the public's best interest. Their job is and always has been to provide the means by which information producers and maintainers--YouTube, Wikipedia, Netflix, and Joe the Blogger--get their messages out to information consumers. Their job should not be to decide which information producers deserve to be heard and which information consumers deserve to hear them.

The internet at its best is the most democratic system this country and even this world has ever seen. If net neutrality were to die off, that democracy may not necessarily come to a screeching halt, but it will never be as attainable as it once was. And with something so important as the universal right to information, there should be no higher motivation than freedom and democracy.

Thank you,
Mary Margaret Healy

If you, too, would like to make a public comment to the FCC, you can do so here.

Good, Old-Fashioned, Volunteerism

I work at my local chapter of The Boys and Girls Clubs of America.  It's a non-profit, and it's located really close to a lot of colleges and universities, so we see a pretty steady stream of volunteers, especially throughout the school year.

Specifically, I work in the Homework Room.  We get kids of all ages and all levels and most neighboring schools, so there's a lot to deal with from an educational perspective, and it can be pretty chaotic.  When we don't get any volunteers, either because the college kids are on break or because it's just a slow day, we really feel it, so I am always over the moon to have any volunteers.  Even if they can't help the kids with homework because they don't know how to do it (trying to learn "new math" as a 22-year-old can be harder thing than you'd think), they're usually pretty good at distracting the rowdier kids enough until someone can help them.

Every once in a while, though, we'll get those kinds of volunteers.  If you work with a lot of volunteers, you probably know the volunteers I'm talking about.  Maybe they're lazy, or maybe they're not.  Maybe they're smart, or maybe they're not.  Maybe they have good intentions, or maybe they don't.  Maybe they're a know-it-all or a type-A personality, or maybe they're not.  Whatever the reason, they make my job harder or less pleasant.

[I want to reiterate: I am always glad to have volunteers.  Even "those" kinds.  Just because they make my day more difficult doesn't mean they aren't an asset.

However, if, after I describe my experiences with "those" kinds of volunteers, you realize that you frequently are one, I would highly encourage you to reevaluate your methods and change the way you interact at your chosen institutions of pro bono employment. ]

So, forthwith, I present to you, for your consideration, a list of things not to do as a volunteer.  It is probably not exhaustive.

-----

1. Think yourself the expert

At the club we often get college students who are studying education and need volunteer hours with elementary-school kids to graduate or to apply to grad school.  Some of them seem to be under the impression that the club does not have any education professionals, nor has it ever had any education professionals, and so they consider themselves mana from heaven, a light in the dark place, Irish Spring amongst the unwashed masses.

Without asking, they try to run things or turn our Homework Room into their ideal classroom (which won't work; believe me, I've naïvely tried).  They give unsolicited advice about this and that, and offer to help make the Homework Room into a more orderly and scholarly environment.  They are appalled by the students' behavior and take it upon themselves to right the wrong of the leadership that has come before.

If these people come back more than once, I would listen to them more readily.  If they invested in these kids for more than just two hours a semester, I would take their desired instructional role more seriously.  If their answer to the question, "How often do you think you'll volunteer here?" were something other than "Oh, I'm really not sure; my schedule is so hectic these days," I might not be annoyed that they think they can do in one day what I haven't been able to do in months.

2. Make a mess and leave

I mean this both physically and metaphorically.  Some volunteers use the books in the Homework Room to read to the kindergarten girls.  There are puzzles on the bookshelves, too, and some counting games.  The volunteers will take over the table by the door and spread out their educational goodies and play with the kids for all of five minutes before the kids get antsy, as they are wont to do, and ask them to go open the art room or the game room or the gym.  Sometimes, one person will stay behind and at least put the supplies back in some semblance of order, but many times, they will just leave that table a mess.

Sometimes a volunteer will be really popular with some of the kids.  If the volunteer is into sports, some kids will want them to play them in basketball.  If the volunteer has really nice hair, some kids will spend some time playing with it.  That's all fine and good.  But when a volunteer comes into the Homework Room to help kids with homework, it is advisable that the students finish their work before they run off to play. That's just common sense, but it's also courtesy to me and the other staff members who have to deal with the students who come in fifteen minutes before closing and ask us to help them with their mountains (because these kids really do get a lot) of homework because they haven't done it yet.

3. If there is a problem that you can't handle, don't just pretend it doesn't exist

This could be anything--students don't have pencils and the volunteer doesn't know where to find the extras, one student is clearly copying another student's homework, "new math" is too confusing--but frequently, with our students, it is a behavioral issue.  Kids will be bullying someone, two kids will get into a fight, one student is distracting the other students from working, that sort of thing.  Instead of either a) trying their best to deal with it in the common-sense ways they know how or b) bringing the issue to the attention of a staff member, the volunteers often just sit and pretend not to notice.

With problems like pencils and "new math," the fallout is not so terrible; I have to get the pencils myself or the kid has to ask someone else for help.  With bullying, fighting, and distractions, an unaddressed problem tends to build and build until it explodes and the whole rest of the day is shot having to deal with it.  

4. Forget what you're there to do

I saved this one for last because it's too common and uninteresting to give too much lip service, but it's so simple and crucial.

So many people (my high-school self included) are required to do some sort of community service or get a certain number of volunteer hours.  I don't know what percentage of those people actually hate serving their community, but it seems frustratingly high.  If you're going to volunteer somewhere, you really should do what they ask you to do, which, frequently, is not to do nothing or to sit on your phone and never make eye-contact with anyone.  You're already sacrificing your time.  What is the point of wasting it, too?

-----

I grew up volunteering through my church, my school, and various other community organizations; my mom made it a priority for all of us while we were growing up.  While I didn't always thoroughly enjoy the work I did or the fact that it wasn't paid, I can't remember a single position I held that wasn't a learning experience that was overall fun or exciting.  Like my mom, I think helping people in different contexts with different needs is a vital part of belonging to a society and becoming an educated citizen of the world.  But there are right ways and wrong ways to do it, and I hope everyone (including me) can learn to not suck at serving.

What is the best policy, again?

This morning, I read a blog post about modesty, and I have been musing about it in the back of my mind all day.  You should read it and then come back to this post so we can discuss it together.

If you don't want to do that, I'll tl;dr it for you.

1) Women's bodies are policed in frustrating ways from both ends of the spectrum: in magazines, TV shows, movies, etc, women are told to be thinner, fitter, more pleasing to men in visual and sexual contexts, and in churches (as well as other, non-Christian arenas) across the world, women are told to cover up, to strive for plainness, to please men by not leading them into sin.

2) This is baffling to the Christian woman who wrote the blogpost (and to me) because nowhere in the Bible does God or Jesus say that women are are fault for their brothers' lustful stumbles, nor does the Bible ever lay the onus on women to prevent the sinful thoughts of others.

3) We, as Christians and a Church turn modesty into objectification by blaming women for the sins of their Christian brothers, and by making women ashamed of their bodies, telling them that their physical form has been corrupted by Satan into an instrument of sin.

4) The blogger finishes her post by saying "Dress for yourself in a way that is glorifying to God, not men. ... Prioritize strength, dignity and good deeds, and then dress accordingly.  Find something that makes you comfortable. Find something that is ethically made. Find something that gives you the freedom to run with abandon into those incoming waves—and revel in this body and this world God gave you to enjoy."  In the earlier version of the post that I read, she also included something along the lines of "Wear what makes you happy."

This, my sort-of response post, is something I've been writing in my head for many years, my thoughts on this topic that have been simmering for a long time, and are now coming to the surface because I think I've finally formed an opinion worth standing on.

-=-=-=-=-=-

First of all, I should preface this to all the non-Christian or not-religious readers I may or may not have.  I realize that this whole argument may seem pretty dumb to you.  The more I study Christianity and faith from the inside, the more I've come to realize how utterly ridiculous it must seem from the outside.  I can appreciate the struggles non-Christian people have with both the Church and its faith.  I've heard a lot of off-hand summarizations of Christianity that go something like, "A bunch of people who rely on a centuries-old text to dictate their every day life and hold way too much stock in a guy who asked them to drink his blood and eat is body."  Our rituals, our beliefs, and our culture are hard to stomach, and I've even spent a lot of my Christian life struggling to get to the bottom of them.

That said, if you disagree with what I say here and would like to have a discussion about it, please remember that, if we come from different foundational beliefs, that discussion is going to be heavy and intimate, and will go deeper than just the words in this post, so maybe we should find a better place to have that conversation than in the comments section or on my Facebook.

-=-=-=-=-=-

I've always had a problem with the "Modesty is the Best Policy!" speeches that we got in church as kids and teenagers.  For one thing, the youth group leaders would separate us into two groups--boys and girls--as if our trials in the arena of sexuality and self-expression were too different, and moreover, needed to be kept secret from one another.  I always wanted to know what was going on in the boys' conversations about these issues, and I always wanted them to know what was going on in the girls', but that wasn't allowed for some reason.

I don't really think that men's and women's struggles with lust and objectification are vastly different, and I definitely don't think they should be trade secrets that separate us.  It's that separation and miscommunication that leads to statements like, "Women shouldn't be allowed to be church leaders or pastors because their bodies will lead the men in the congregation to sin."  The truth of it is that both men and women can be distracted by men and women's bodies.  If I had a nickel for every girl whose crush on a male pastor or worship leader distracted her from the message of the church, I could probably pay for all the Christmas gifts I bought this year and get myself a little something extra, too.  That fact would be more widely known and accepted if men and women in church talked together about things like sexuality and attraction.

The reason the idea of modesty has been on my mind a lot recently (more recently, anyway, than the Sunday School sex talks I got in high school) is because, in college, I became really gung-ho about feminism and gender equality, and it has since changed my view of myself and my role as a woman in Christianity.  A lot of topics come into play with the discussion of women in the Church, and modesty is one of them that pops up quite frequently and in rather inconspicuous ways.

For instance, when I was 18 and younger, going to church with my parents or friends, I felt convicted not to wear tank tops.  I felt uncomfortable with my shoulders uncovered, not because I didn't like tank-tops in general, but because I didn't think they were something a Godly woman should wear, and I didn't want people at church to think I was anything but Godly.

This attitude persisted for some time into college, but eventually, a fundamental change occurred, and I stopped thinking that showing off my shoulders was unGodly, but I still worried about what people at church would think of me if I did it.  I worried, not about men lusting after me, but about women and pastors and indoctrinated children passing judgements about me and my faith because my skirt was too short or my cleavage was too exposed.

I can't attest to whether or not anyone at any of my previous churches actually did pass such judgements on me, but I can say that I was no longer trying to please God.  I was trying to please God's followers. I was not even trying to protect men struggling with lustful thoughts; I was trying to protect myself from the scorn of anyone struggling with a judgmental nature.

And I think that was the sin I committed.  Not only was I passing judgment prematurely on my brothers and sisters in Christ by assuming that they would think so poorly of me so easily, but I was also putting their opinion of me above God's.

I think the blogger from the above post said it well when she emphasized that women (perhaps specifically Christian women) should not be dressing for men--whether it be to please them sexually or to please them spiritually--or other people in our church congregations.  We should be doing everything for the glory of God, and that includes the way we dress.  That is different than wearing whatever makes you happy (which may be the reason she has since retracted that statement) because God doesn't think that our purpose on this earth is to merely be happy.  But that is also different than policing our bodies or anyone else's bodies and making the argument that one person can prevent another's sin.

If, as we search through our closets in the morning (or, in my case, the pile of semi-clean clothes strewn across the floor...) we are too preoccupied thinking about how we are going to serve our Lord today, or about how our clothes are or are not going to get in the way of our worldly worship getting accomplished, isn't that more important than thinking about how many eyes we will or won't turn with our scoop neck top or our short shorts?  This should also be true of men, whose bodies can also be distracting to those who see them.  Shouldn't a man be more concerned with whether his T-shirt will be thin and breathable enough for him to do his work at Habitat for Humanity, than with whether the way it accentuates his shoulder blades may lead a fellow volunteer down the path that leads to destruction?

Most importantly, if a Christian does catch themselves objectifying someone who is made in the image of God, shouldn't they do whatever it takes for their own heart to undo that, rather than turn the sin and shame on that person who might not have had any malicious intent, or may have come from a culture where their chosen dress is the norm and is completely socially acceptable?  Perhaps, when we catch ourselves in the act of objectification, we should pray to God for wisdom and clarity, to relearn to see that person as a unique individual who fits into God's cosmic plan for the redemption of the world.  Perhaps we should find an unobtrusive way reach out to them, to have a conversation or share a meal so that we might come to know and see beyond their bodies.  Or perhaps we should just remove ourselves from the situation, quoting scripture to ourselves and our inner demons, as Jesus did during his 40 days in the wilderness.

I think churches and Christians should focus as much or more of their energies on teaching their congregants how to avoid objectifying human beings as they do on teaching women how to cover up their sex-appeal. And I think that pastors and church leaders could make much more headway in the Biblical modesty department if they taught women and men fiscally and morally responsible ways to purchase, make, and wear clothing and bodily adornments instead of telling women that tank tops and mini dresses are the devil's playthings.

The War on Christmas

If you have completely read the header image of this blog, you have probably noticed that there is a "Lord" in it, which probably tipped you off (if you are someone who needed tipping off) that it was a quote from the Bible.

Secret's out (if you are someone who thought it was a secret): I am a Christian.  I'm pretty deep into it, have been for a long time.  It looks like there's no hope for my rehabilitation.  The heavenly Doctor has given me only an eternity left to live.  In lieu of flowers, please send food because I haven't gone grocery shopping in a while.

All joking aside, I am a Christian.  Through and through, I believe in Jesus, I go to Church on Sundays, I pray as daily as I can manage, I read my Bible as daily as I can remember, and I study that Bible and my God in a community with other Christians.  I take my faith seriously, and while I struggle, I do try to put my love and worship of God before all else in my life.

Which is why I really hate the wars that people--predominantly Americans, I believe--declare on various "Christian" things.  Recently, it has been marriage, but I that's a whole post in and of itself.  A more timely war, though, is The War on Christmas.  This comes around every year at this time, and I am so sick of it.

I guess I should clarify: specifically, I'm sick of people saying it's a thing.

There are some tangentially-religious topics that the conservative media addresses that should be responded to with care, diplomacy, gentle words, and loving language.  But I don't believe this is one of them.

From what I can tell, this particular breed of warmongers fear the "politically correct" army is soiling the holid--I'm sorry, the Christmas Season by using the word "Holiday" instead of the word "Christmas."

There have probably been lawsuits against public displays of affection for Christmas.  I think I've heard of people suing to have outdoor nativities removed from courthouses and a quick google search turns up some other weird stuff about banners that said Merry Christmas and discussions pro and against the ACLU.  It is unfortunate to me that Christmas, which has already become a time to celebrate capitalism and materialism, has also become the battle ground for free speech.  But to a larger degree, the backlash against and the use of these lawsuits as proof that there is a war on Christmas (and therefore Christianity) is what really troubles me.

Ostensibly, the United States is a Christian country.  A non-Christian has never been elected president, we swear oaths of office and honesty on the Bible, and people like to pretend that the founding fathers were God-fearing Christians themselves.  But, in actuality, we are not a Christian country.  Our country has morals and as a society we have a somewhat stable belief system, but we are hardly Christian on the whole, and I don't see that as a bad thing.  We are made up almost entirely of immigrants who came here from hundreds of countries and many different religions, and it just makes sense that, even if our country started as a Christian nation (it didn't), is hasn't remained one and it can't try to become one again.

In actuality, Christmas is Christian (obligatory "CHRISTmas" comment).  Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Jesus, whom Christians believe to have been the incarnation of God who eventually grew up to die for their sins, thus making humans' reunion with God possible.  Ostensibly, around the country, Christmas is more than that now.  It, like the United States itself, has taken dozens of different cultures from around the globe and mashed them into something that Americans can all celebrate if they want to.  The Christmas we get time off work for is based more on an amalgamation of Saint Nicholas's feast day and pagan celebrations of the winter solstice than it is on Christ.  It is a holiday where people travel to see their families, exchange gifts under a tree and in giant socks, eat honeyed ham, and watch It's a Wonderful Life.  If that family is Christian, they will likely also celebrate the birth of Christ, but if that family is not Christian (and even sometimes if they are) they will skip that part.

So doesn't it make sense that the not-actually-Christian State is a little loose with their actually-Christian-holiday terminology? People who get the time off work, who buy the gifts on sale, who put up the tree and lights and excessive lawn ornamentation aren't necessarily celebrating Christian Christmas, anymore than the people who buy the peeps and hide the eggs are celebrating Christian Easter.  So what does it matter to us if they don't want to call it Christmas?  Doesn't the term "holiday" fit it better, due to its ambiguity, its fluidity, and its ability to cover a lot of ground in a single word?

I guess my main beef with "the war on Christmas" propaganda is that I don't feel like wishing people "Happy holidays!" makes it harder for me to enjoy the holidays I personally celebrate (which are actually plural, including my birthday, Christmas, and New Year's Eve...).  I'd feel the same way if I owned a company that sent out holiday cards, put up banners, or threw parties and I'd feel the same way if I were a teacher who wanted to decorate her classroom in December.  Neither my company as a whole nor my classroom as a structure celebrates any holidays. No one is telling me how to celebrate them myself.  No one is telling me I can't talk to others about how I celebrate my December holidays.

I do not see how my freedom is impinged, and I do see how my use of the word "Holidays" fits the mold of the season better that "Christmas" for most people that I talk to.  It's not a matter of a war against that oh-so-terrible concept of political correctness.  It's a matter of accuracy and efficiency.  And you know who values efficiency?

And, seriously.  If you put yourself in a war against the Borg, I won't even wish you good luck.  Luck is irrelevant.

Happy Holidays!

Mary Margaret

Why haven't we paid reparations, again?

Calvin College's History Department just posted a link to this article on their facebook wall.

History and guilt

Can America face up to the terrible reality of slavery in the way that Germany has faced up to the Holocaust?

History-guilt is one of those topics that, for me, I can't help but muse about.  As an upper-middle-class white American who happened to take an unconventional course track to achieve an undergraduate history minor, I've faced my nation's (and, though I'm less certain of it, my ancestors') past sins in convicting ways in convicting contexts.  Such convictions are not something I put aside easily.

The above article talks about collective guilt versus collective responsibility, and one conclusion drawn from that discussion is that, while we are not, as a nation, continuously guilty for the atrocities of our nation's history, we are responsible for them and it is morally imperative that we not sweep them under a rug, that we not gild them with narratives of triumph and teamwork, and that we address them in our present and accept them as our past.

The Americas were settled by conquerors, and by the time America declared itself a country, many of those conquerers considered their native enemies to be subhuman pests in need of eradication.  Pre-America Americans treated the native tribes around them in much the same way that modern Americans treat packs of wolves today: as dangerous, incomprehensible, curiosities that might deserve their own place in the world, but only if it does not interfere with our livestock.  It's true that some early settlers of North America worked within an understood peace with Native American peoples, trading with them instead of killing them outright, marrying into their tribes and developing mutually beneficial hybrid cultures.  But for the large part, mutually beneficial relationships were not the ones that formed the foundation for the United States.

While the British still controlled the North American colonies, they used them as penal colonies for their worst criminals as well as their Irish and Scottish rebels.  Indentured servitude was the name of the game, establishing a divide that is still alive today, wherein the working class is often seen as second-rate citizens, as ignorant, and even evil.  This was only intensified with the growth of the popularity of slavery, and as white slavers shipped in foreign workers from Africa (and possibly India), America continued to build itself up on the backs of people whose liberty had been stolen from them.

Our country is a great country.  It could be a better country, I think everyone agrees, though they may disagree on what changes should be made.  Our country is full of opportunity, where people who work hard can often change their stars, where the descendants of Irish immigrants who came here with naught but the clothes on their backs are able, today, to go to college and become doctors, lawyers, teachers, and professionals.

But our country's past is not great.  It is not forgivable, nor has it been sufficiently paid for by those who have benefited from the persecutions of others.  Though our president is African-American*, poor people and imprisoned people are also largely black.  A sobering look at American history shows us that, though there are modern factors at play in those realities, many of the stumbling blocks that caused them were established at the founding of this country and have only grown since.  The real-estate practice of red-lining--keeping black Americans from buying homes in certain neighborhoods--cut off economic opportunity to blacks for decades, opportunity that was open to whites who were able to buy houses and use that capital to lend money to children for college payments, car loans, and even mortgages.  Red-lining was born out of a racism that believed that blacks brought crime with them wherever they went and so would lower property values of any neighborhoods where they lived.  That racism stems from the same racism as slavery, and the same racism as the European conquest of the Americas.

Our country was founded and expanded on that racism.  I likely have many of the opportunities I have because of that racism.  It's not a pretty picture; American history.  But whitewashing it only makes it uglier.  From the above article,

"Rather than looking at the history of Jim Crow, we turn Martin Luther King’s birthday into a national holiday and put his statue on the Mall. Yet we would be disturbed by a German lesson plan that mentioned the Holocaust as a terrible thing, and then went on too quickly to described those heroes — Willy Brandt, Sophie Scholl, Claus von Stauffenberg — who opposed it. With far too few exceptions, America’s history of freedom-fighting — from Seneca Falls to Selma to Stonewall — is doing just that."

Paying monetary reparations, establishing affirmative action, and enforcing strict equal-opportunity laws are important steps for our nation to take in order to accept legal responsibility for its actions.  What does it look like when we, as individuals and as a country, begin to take moral responsibility for our past?  I haven't sold any human beings into slavery and I didn't build my house by bulldozing someone else's while they were still living in it, and maybe if I had done those things in the 1700's, someone today could  make an argument that I shouldn't be held to a modern moral standard for things done earlier than the standard's creation.  But we have the morals now, and that past isn't magically wiped away; we know it, we're still studying it, but we haven't paid for it.  Right now, all the wrong people are paying for it, because those of us who have benefited refuse to look at those who were stepped on to get us to where we are today.

We are not guilty of our ancestor's crimes.  We are responsible for the consequences that still exist today, and we are responsible for seeing that those who suffered are restored.  This is an American problem.  What is the best American solution?