At the Foot of Arjuno

At the Foot of Arjuno

Thursday, November 25, 2021

Whose Comfort Counts?

Today is Thanksgiving. 

Memories of this day often revolve around family, food, and football.

I haven't been in the United States for Thanksgiving in eleven years, so I don't really know what it's like now. And anyway, I don't really celebrate Thanksgiving, or any other holiday, for that matter, as I did before. In fact, I am usually rather sad on days that are major holidays in my homeland, but I do have memories, and memories are for remembering and traditions must be made anew.  Grow, grow, GROW! ...as we used to say.

My grandmother loved to sneak gizzards in the dressing. My cousins and I would always ask her not to put them in there, but to no avail. She would feign ignorance,  "What? Well, honey, I don't know about that - I didn't think there were any in there" and she'd quietly giggle and it became something of a joke. Nowadays it might not be so funny, as accommodating people's requests is akin to acknowledging both their right to exist and their beliefs.

That being said, some of the most memorable Thanksgivings were those during my high school years, especially one in particular when addressing ugliness, sexism, and racism at the table led to a lively exchange, which is forever etched in my mind. We were coming into our own as young people and we were not complaisant. While I miss my Grandmother's cooking and I miss seeing my cousins, I don't miss tense road trips with my angry father or the heated arguments that would inevitably scorch the Thanksgiving table. As I got older, I was in more control about where and with whom I would spend this special day. My Thanksgiving memories as an adult are much sweeter, happier, and embraceable. I was blessed to have experienced Thanksgiving with new family relations, friends from different parts of the country, and people whose families were too far away for them to meet. Thanksgiving had truly become a time to be thankful.   

***

I am an animal lover and that informs my eating decisions. Period. That being said, while living in another country, I'm not always in the control seat for menu offerings. Travelers are often advised that as guests, we should eat what is offered to us. Anything else would be considered rude, but at what point is it acceptable to consider your own comfort (and beliefs) when it comes to food?

This post won't answer that question - or any others. In fact the older I get the more I realize how little I know and hell, even if I did know something at one time, it surely doesn't mean the question is the same. Flexibility is key and so is a healthy dose of introspection. 

Where I live, due to religious beliefs, a great majority of the population neither drinks alcohol nor eats pork. As you can imagine, the lack of pork has never really been an issue for me, but at times it's been a little disheartening not to be able to find a cold beer when the mood hits. That being said, for many Indonesian Christians I've known over the years, the feeling seems to be that since there are no religious prohibitions for us regarding food, we (as I am a follower of Christ) are not only free to eat whatever we want, but that we should. I imagine this thinking stems from the scripture 1 Timothy 4: 4-5 (NIV)

4 For everything God created is good, and nothing is to be rejected
 if it is received with thanksgiving,
5 because it is consecrated by the word of God and prayer.

When I see online (in social media or news stories) that people are uncomfortable, stressed, or even a little irritated about accommodating the food requirements or preferences of guests sharing the Thanksgiving table, I naturally reflect on my years here. I think about the people who know that I don't want to eat meat or foods from animals and how graciously they have treated me. I think of the people that know and haven't cared, expecting me to eat what they serve since there's no "real" reason for me not to eat meat or products from animals. I reflect on my years in the service industry where I learned that sharing a meal with friends means a whole lot more than just eating. And maybe most of all, I think of what a privilege it is to prepare food for loved ones. Of what a blessing it is to be together, to laugh, to be happy.

I think about how eating is such a public thing, yet taps our inner most being - where grace can so easily turn to malice and sharing can shift towards judgment. Where eating dogs and cats is volleyed around just to get a reaction - from someone who lives in a house with cats AND a dog. 

Thanksgiving is a lovely time to gather and be thankful. Sharing a meal is a meaningful way to show love and friendship, but from where I sit, peace begins on a plate. If that offends you, may you find comfort. And may we all learn how to love one another, giving thanks that we can make choices with a spirit of compassion for all. If we choose ;)




Friday, June 25, 2021

Feathers and Fur


“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all

Emily Dickinson

Perhaps I should have listened to my superstitious gut. I should not have put the collage of photos on Facebook yesterday. Yes, he was getting better (I thought) and it was safe to share his journey.


I have learned over the years that often when it seems like they're getting better, it's more like a last ditch effort to survive. This morning when I went to check on him as I have for the past week and a half, he was almost stiff, eyes closed, as if he had passed in his sleep. Thank goodness for small comforts. 

Sometimes I say that I'm all cried out. I have cried so much over many lost lives, many unfair, unjust, and just plain sad things that I wonder if I have anything left in my heart at all; perpetual triggers and endless chances to grow through disappointment.

Hope is what carries me through the tough times. Faith teaches me how to access it, it's the branch for the little bird to sit on. Love is in the fluffy fur of every creature I touch and it's the spring of all that is good and worthy. 

Rest well, little one.




13 So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three;
but the greatest of these is love.
1 Corinthians 13:13

God does not require us to achieve any of the good tasks that humanity must pursue.
What God requires of us is that we never stop trying.
Bayard Ruskin





Monday, June 21, 2021

53 Percent, Revisited in the Light of 55 Percent

Soon after the 2016 election, I wrote 99% of what follows. Last night I listened to an interview with Malcolm Gladwell who shared that he was happy to think in front of others with the ability to learn and grow together. In that spirit I am sharing this older post, especially in light of the apparent reality that more white women voted for Trump in 2020 than in 2016. I'm working hard to make sense of this, but at the same time, if race is indeed learned and is a social construct, this bubble dwelling hermit changed majors long ago. 

                                                                                *****

I read that 53% of white women (white like me?) voted for Donald Trump. I've seen varying numbers; the lowest being 42% and the highest is 53%. It's not my intention to shame them (us?) - women are human beings and have the right - always - to do as they (we) see fit. Secondly, I don't see hand-wringing or softness on either side. We are ALL on a mission and we all feel "right".

That being said, I was completely befuddled as to how so many women could vote for someone who has obviously disrespected and cheated on (arguably) each of his three wives (at least he divorced and didn't try to justify cheating while remaining married - that's an all-too-common reality for another post), as well as said that he could "grab a woman's p---- because he can" - or something to that effect - and no, to me it doesn't matter when he said it: such a nasty attitude doesn't just "go away."

Have these women never been grabbed? Groped? Forced to have sex against their will? Propositioned for sex by men in positions of authority? Have they been lied to or cheated on? Are they, like me, still holding a grudge against Hillary for not kicking Bill to the curb or, at least, for the back-handed slut-shaming of those who choose to "stand by |their| men"?

I believe in the rights of women, but identity politics plays no part in my belief. I've taken heat for not showing compassion for those who choose a different way of being female. I will not stand up for a woman who abuses her children or spouse, who plays a position of weakness to manipulate or to gain benefits for her own selfish ends. Being catty or bitchy is not a part of what it means to be a woman. It's a part of being human and there's no better proof than to look at all the catty, bitchy men who troll and yell. I am a feminist, but certainly not of the "Female First" camp, but rather a feminist fortified by humanism. In this day in age in America, the need for women to play small no longer exists, so don't be surprised that I can understand why women wouldn't choose to support Hillary

BUT

not supporting Hillary does not default into support for Trump - or did it? I cannot understand how they would vote for Donald Trump. And today I wonder why and how.

As often as we have found ourselves straddling an imaginary boundary between good girl/bad girl, sex object or virgin, warrior or princess, I guess I thought those days were pretty much over. It's clear they're not.

Many years ago, I was having lunch with my dear Grandmother and her sister, my dear aunt. This was in 1995 when Shannon Faulkner and a handful of other women sought entry into the prestigious Corps of Cadets at the Citadel, famed military academy in South Carolina.

When I brought up the case - thinking it would be yet another opportunity to further develop our strong bonds - their faces immediately changed into scary, angry monsters "I hope they get raped -  every single one of them! I hope they get raped!" These two cultured Southern women descended into a tirade that would make the most dramatic soap opera diva jealous. Nobody could carry on like those two sisters and I just had to provoke it by wrongly thinking that we might be on the same page!

Even to this day that memory haunts me. How in the world...what were they thinking? I thought for sure, as strong as they were, that they would support an opportunity for young women with the will and ability to fight, to fight.  I was wrong. They had a different perspective and it in no way meant that women were weak or couldn't fight, it simply meant, I suppose, that war is for men and women should know their place and stay there. Period.

I'm embarrassed, but only a bit, to admit that I channeled their righteous indignation when I learned of the women supporting Trump. "How could they? I hope they get raped!" I caught myself and backpaddled. I'm not that person, but I would be lying if I said that the thought  - and the feeling - didn't briefly rage through my mind and body.

We should not be expected to be a monolithic body, but surely there are some places where we can find common ground, aren't there?

In the time since I began this post, the Women's March on Washington has transpired. And now, more than a year later, Stephanie Daniels/adult film actress, and her legal team headed by a man not afraid to speak out and sling hash, either, has filled the news. Mueller's team continues to bag game and white people all over America are calling the law on black people for...I'm going to say it..."not staying in their place." That is THE defining mentality of conservative-leaning people: know your place and stay in it. Are those 53% dutifully staying in their places? 

In reading as much as I can via the internet, as well as being able to discuss it with some friends who didn't march, I have a clearer idea of at least some of the answers to my initial query.

Some women just don't feel oppressed and they believe that other women are being unduly hysterical (now that's a loaded term, isn't it?), as well.

Maybe for some women, the belief that "our" men will protect us serves to quell any fears about the boyish boasting and potential harm from someone who, unabashedly, doesn't view women as fully human. Perhaps I'm a little jealous of such confidence. I've never known it. I can't remember being protected, but I can remember being blamed. As a woman, anything that happens to me is surely my fault. Boys have fun and girls have babies, after all.

The story of Sodom and Gomorrah, depending on your religious beliefs, either demonizes homosexuality or describes how we are to treat strangers.

For me, it not only tells how we are to treat the stranger among us, but it is a sad example of power and "playing the game". Lot offered his virgin daughters to the mob "to do with them as they will"(Genesis 19:8). I always wondered why it seemed nobody was as preoccupied with that as they were about the so-called homosexual overtones or the description of how to treat the stranger. Odder yet, is that even though Lot was willing to engage in their game of violence and power by giving his daughters, he was going to be made to suffer an even harsher fate! In other words, by speaking against the crowd, his male privilege was nil. That's what happens when anybody, male or female, speaks against power. Privilege be damned. That's one of the things that a lot of people on both sides fail to realize. Privilege only goes so far without a commitment to the game.

As I read the story again, the two virgin daughters had another role to play after they fled the city.

I don't want to dwell on that story except to say that the fate of the daughters, at first, was in the hands of the father. A fine fate that would have been, too, I imagine. Later, after they fled, by taking responsibility for themselves and for humanity, albeit in an unsavory manner, they too did what they were "supposed to do"; they continued their lineage.

I'm trying hard to understand different perspectives, especially about what it means to be a woman in this Patriarchal world that too often forces us to be pitted against each other.

I have to remember that the 53% of white women have white fathers, white brothers, white uncles, and very likely, white sons. This puts them in the unfortunate position of not only maintaining and nurturing systemic racism, but also the Patriarchy.

I'm going to disagree with the women who voted for Trump, but at the same time, I will try not to demonize, name-call, or shame them. That's a game and a system that I want no part of. I will continue to hope that we all can do what we think we need to do, what we're supposed to do, and that we'll be ready to be accountable and to change our views if necessary.



https://www.thecut.com/2020/11/many-white-women-still-voted-for-trump-in-2020.html