Sunday, October 30, 2011

question from church

i haven't been to the early church recently because first my bike tire was flat, then i went to PA for the weekend, then i slept in, then it was fall break. but i went today and after the service we circled around the room and joined hands and each person said something they were grateful for. a man standing near me asked if i was new and i laughed and said that i am an occasional attender of the early church. he smiled at me and asked, did you find what you were looking for this morning? 

and right then was when the grateful-circle started, so i just smiled back at him and nodded, but his question kept banging around in my head all during lunch and my bike ride home. what was i looking for this morning? do i even know? how will i know when i find it?

Saturday, October 29, 2011

let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

this weekend has been so nice. it started snowing last night and my apartment was bright and warm, full of laughter good food and heated discussion (we had friends over for dinner). then this morning i slept until around 10:00 and then refused to get out of bed. and then erika and i invited joel over for pancakes - we needed his contribution of milk, so it was only fair...- and i just went to see The Importance of Being Ernest and tomorrow is church and homework and probably more stress than today but anyway this is a good weekend.

also i have pictures:

                                                                            Snow!
                                                                          my living room
                                                                                my kitchen
the view from the front door

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

i should be sleeping right now

but it is almost fall break, so whatever, i can deal with a little lack of sleep.

i found an online copy of a C.S. Lewis essay (http://www.audiowebman.org/bbc/books/articles/cslewis.htm) and was sidetracked - i was all ready to go to bed and then while i was drinking my cup of tea i got online and of course i stumbled across something interesting. here is my new favorite quote:

"It would be difficult, and, to me, repellent, to suppose that Jesus never asked a genuine question, that is, a question to which he did not know the answer. That would make of  his humanity something so unlike ours as scarcely to deserve the name. I find it easier to believe that when he said "Who touched me?" (Luke 7:45) he really wanted to know."


Friday, October 14, 2011

to borrow a line from cornell west,

race matters.

i'm taking a class called 'history of recent america' and this week the lectures are focused on the civil rights movement. today my professor's lecture ended with a brief history of harrisonburg.

in the late fifties, as integration was being pushed by the federal government, most places in the south massively resisted. in virginia, the resistance to integration took a less violent approach than in alabama or mississippi. less violent; more sneaky. a federal program was giving money to cities at the time for 'urban development' programs, and harrisonburg quietly and calmly designated the african-american neighborhood 'blighted' and demolished over 63% of the homes owned by black residents in the city. these people were then displaced to the newly built projects outside of harrisonburg.

mark, my professor, went on to explain how before the destruction of the african-american neighborhood, about 12% of harrisonburg was black. the figure now hovers around 3%. there used to be a black bank, several businesses, a community center, and homes that all belonged to the "black neighborhood." since the late '50s, most of the people from that community have moved to washington d.c.

of those who stayed, a de facto segregation remained. the old school that the blacks used to go to was closed and a new one was opened in the projects. the students remaining in harrisonburg went to schools that were predominately white. mark has had students in his history classes do research papers on this before, and in looking through old yearbooks, EMU students have found that in the original black school, there were vibrant extracurriculars. a debate team, art programs, theater... and yet an interesting thing occured when these students were shunted into the majority white schools where most people supported segregation. there were no black students in any extracurriculars except sports.

i look at EMU today - my impression, and one that i know is shared by a lot of people, is that many (not quite most, but nearly) of the athletes at EMU are black, and most of the black students at EMU are athletes. the racial attitudes of the 50s are still shaping my daily reality, still affecting the lives of my peers.

and i learned this week about the way that so often today we talk about the civil rights movement and end in 1963, with Dr. King's speech in Washington. i have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. and yet things didn't end in 1963. there was malcolm x, there was the black panthers, there were race riots and mobs and civil rights workers killed in mississippi, in alabama, there are people still missing and men who walked without a trial; there was the cold war, there was the race to the moon, there were escalating protests against the vietnam war and i saw the statistics today, projected on the screen - america growing richer, the middle class growing, and the african-american population growing poorer. nationally, even though they made up less than 12% of the population, they made up over 50% of the prisoners. as mark said, 'i'm not surprised that middle schools and high schools end the civil rights movement in 1963. because after that things got complicated.'


all of this to say: race matters. and so i am happy, excited... relieved, in a way, to be able to say that this week i could listen to sehba sarwar and leymah gbowee as they talked about listening to people across divides; the power of forgiveness; the need to see other people as worthy of love. tonight i went to the screening of leymah's film pray the devil back to hell and afterword she spoke to the audience about what the war was like in liberia. the terror people lived with, the violence directed against women and children, the hunger. it was a powerful speech, challenging, and when she finished speaking we all rose to our feet. mostly caucasians, but also asians, hispanics, african-americans; we all stood together and applauded for this beautiful soul, this wonderfully crazy west african woman who believes that good people working together can push the dark back before the power of the light.

i am happy-exited-relieved. and i am hopeful. i am hopeful because an african woman with very dark skin spoke with authority in harrisonburg where less than 50 years ago people who looked very much like her were forced from their homes and called nasty names. tonight we stood for her and applauded.

we are learning to see with clearer eyes.


Thursday, October 13, 2011

Sehba Sarwar

This evening I went to the second Writer's Read of the fall semester. The speaker for the evening was Sehba Sarwar, a Pakistani woman who is a poet, artist, novelist, activist, wife and mother who lives in Houston, Texas. I was lucky enough to have been invited earlier in the week to sit at the head table with the head of the Language&Literature Department, as well as Sehba.

She was wonderful, a bright and shining person who spoke thoughtfully and listened well; she read more of her fiction than her poetry, but one of the poems she read lept off the page and into my heart and I found it online when I got home. Here it is:

I-10, a ribbon stringing across the southern borders
Of the USA (los estados unidos de américa),
A freeway racing parallel to curling barbed wires and military lights
Across which are homes much like the ones on this side
Maybe more decrepit, maybe more dusty
But maybe more in touch with the sand, the earth, the cactus
And the lives lost.
I have seen the barbed wire along the rio grande between el paso and juarez
And I have heard of guns, walls and barbed wire in ramallah and jerusalem
And I know of AK47s and kalashnikovs and military checkpoints
Along kashmir, baluchistan and sindh,
Borders where sisters wait hours to see their sisters
But then are turned away.
More than anything I know children live, sleep and eat and roosters crow
On every side of the silver wire-ribbons that cut across the globe
Piercing our skin to draw blood
Forcing us to forget
That one day we will cry together when our mothers pass away.
Mera naam sehba hai
Munjho nalo sehba ahay
Mi nombre es sehba
And I don’t need to tell you, on any side of I-10
Or you, anywhere along the sharp wire ribbons that divide earth
I don’t need to tell you what I just said
Because you know on every side of the border that you-we-us-I are the same.
So put down your gun
Tear the ribbon and wear it like a roman crown over your head
And join us in los estados unidos de americas y mundo aur dunia
To build bridges and destroy walls.

-Sehba Sarwar