by Roxanne -

“Minnesota Nice” & Cross Burning

How do we resist the “narrative of the lie” I mentioned in a recent post? Here’s an example: A recent news item indicates a reported cross burning directed at a mixed-race couple in Bemidji, Minnesota on May 29th. It gives meaning to the term “Minnesota Nice.” This term reflects the idea that Minnesotans believe themselves to be genuinely nice, welcoming people. However, cross burnings should make us question this lie.

A cross burning reflects on the surface the hatred of many whites against other groups that exists just below the surface. How do we know this hatred against other ethnic groups exists? Because it exists systemically, for example in

  • the real estate industry – redlining
  • the banking industry – who is approved for loans
  • who is arrested and jailed – predominantly those of color
  • our education system – who is admitted via biased tests for college enrollment, then who is hired for well-paying jobs based on college degrees
  • voter registration laws – making it difficult for the poor, those of color or who are homeless to vote

We, as Minnesotans, allow these hateful and bigoted biases to exist in our laws, educational, correctional, corporate, religious and banking systems because it allows one ethnic group (“Whites”) to steal unearned wealth and benefits from targeted groups. Fortunately, many are working for systemic change; recently, against the proposed voter ID changes.

So “Minnesota Nice” and smiling on the surface does not mean welcoming and hospitable in fact. Educating ourselves to this truth is how we resist the narrative of the lie. It is one more way of overcoming the blinders of white privilege.

You may also like Art Reveals History’s Blind Spots, Letter To Americans and Response and What is White Privilege?

by Roxanne -

Telling Stories

Listening to Minnesota artist Ann Reed’s CD “Telling Stories” (a gift from my friend L), I was thinking about the importance of telling stories in our lives.

Especially for women – telling our story and stories from our lives – is the only way to confront the “narrative of the lie” or the story our culture gives us. This story frequently confines women to certain roles, certain life paths and certain ways of being in the world that limit and restrict what women can do.

For example, believing that there is a “public sphere” and “private sphere” and relegating women to the private sphere, effectively removes our voices from public life. It also removes our rights since these rights are often considered not applicable to private sphere or home life. Thus, women who work at home may be considered to be doing less valuable work, typically aren’t paid, may be subject to emotional, physical or domestic abuse, may be inculturated to serve others even when it means denying one’s own education, development, talents or gifts.

Someone once admonished me to “stop telling stories.” It was interesting that the request was not to “stop lying” – because telling about my own experience certainly was not lying. But it was sharing a truth in my own experience that confronted the lie being told by the larger tribe, clan or group.

How have you confronted the lies told in your family, group or community?

How does your story differ from the story others relate about you?

In Christianity, gospel values hinge on our ability to tell the stories. We are not our stories. But scripture stories and our own stories can expand our ideas of who we are and what we can do.

Like Ann Reed, every chance you get – tell stories!

You may also like “What is Your Story?” and “Secrets.”

by Roxanne -

The Empire of Tea

Summer is often about warm afternoons on the patio or deck with good book; lazy days of reading. Here’s a book suggestion. My friend J gave me a truly interesting little book entitled, The Empire of Tea: The Remarkable History of the Plant that Took Over the World, by Alan MacFarlane and his mother, Iris MacFarlane.

Both authors are British and have had their lives caught up in the tea gardens (plantations) of Assam. Iris shares a particularly poignant and personal memoir of her experience living on an Assamese tea plantation in the 1950’s and 60’s. She shares her memories through the eyes of privilege — but now wisened to realize how privilege blinded her to the harsh realities around her. Thus the story begins.

From here Alan MacFarlane enlightens us on the history of tea drinking and its impact on both Western and Eastern civilizations. The impact of this one drink has been profound indeed. From allowing a burgeoning population to escape deadly epidemics in the 1700s because tea required boiled or sterilized water, to the elegant and spiritual tea cermonies that were created in Japan, tea helped to shape cultures and dynasties.

While the authors note the slave-like conditions of the workers who harvest and process tea, they fail to note that these conditions continue to exist today, not only in Assam but now elsewhere in the world – all so that we can have the tea we crave and have it at an inhumane cost. Further, international law requires that poor countries sell their unprocessed tea cheaply to industrialized countries. This means they must then repurchase their own tea now processed and packaged and marked up hundreds of times over. They are not allowed the profits from their own product. This is the system of injustice that is designed and enforced for tea, but also for coffee and most commodities. This is how poor countries are made poor and kept poor by rich countries.

Its not clear if the authors are simply not aware of this, or perhaps their own privilege prevents them from plainly stating the slavery that is inherent in our consumption of this beverage.

Nevertheless, the book is well written and engaging. Once you have read it, you will never sip a cup of tea the same way again.

You may also like The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake and A Fine Balance.

 

 

by Roxanne -

Our Deepest Fear

Photo R. Meshar

This was recited last Sunday to close the homily and it’s a good reminder – especially for women in our culture who are given an opposite message – to always serve, to stay in the background, to be nice and quiet.

It’s “Our Deepest Fear” by Marianne Williamson, from her book A Return To Love: Reflections on the Principles of A Course in Miracles.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.

Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.

It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.

We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?

Actually, who are you not to be?

You are a child of God.

Your playing small does not serve the world.

There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.

We are all meant to shine, as children do.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.

It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.

And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.

As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”