Dear Mr. President,
Your faith teaches that today's celebration is marking the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem. Christians from around the world will be making pilgrimages to the tiny church of the Nativity, lighting candles and saying prayers, passing through the apartheid wall that confines Palestinians in the West Bank. When I visited this church in the shimmering heat of high summer, we walked past walls still scarred by bullet holes from 2002 gun battles between Israeli troops and Palestinian fighters. Perhaps, not being Christian myself, I failed to experience the reverence I was meant to feel for the site of Jesus' birth, but I could not separate my horror at the grotesque oppression (and it's violent legacy) of the residents of Bethlehem from my respect for the teachings of Christianity's central figure.
For all of those American Christians who are today sitting in churches, saying their prayers or singing carols, I hope that the harsh restrictions on the freedoms and opportunities of those, like Jesus, guilty of the unforgivable crime of having been born in Bethlehem are not forgotten. It seems so unjust that Christ's disciples are happily celebrating his birth when the citizens of his birthplace, Muslim and Christian alike, live under occupation in fear and confinement. Christmas may be a time of celebration, but I would hope that remembering the reason for this holiday and the ongoing (and overlong) fight for basic human rights for Palestinians might not be so easily disentangled.
I hope that you have had a good and peaceful holiday, despite the burdens of your office. As an individual with rather more control over the fate of those living in Bethlehem, I hope you, at least, have not forgotten them today.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Two well-written pieces on this can be found at Ma'an news and at Al-Jazeera. I urge all of you to read them.
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label religion. Show all posts
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Day 346- "Bigotry disguised as prudence"
It still seems an unwritten rule in establishment Washington that homophobia is at most a misdemeanor. By this code, the Smithsonian’s surrender is no big deal; let the art world do its little protests. This attitude explains why the ever more absurd excuses concocted by John McCain for almost single-handedly thwarting the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” are rarely called out for what they are — “bigotry disguised as prudence,” in the apt phrase of Slate’s military affairs columnist, Fred Kaplan.
-Frank Rich "Gay Bashing at the Smithsonian"
Dear Mr. President,
Frank Rich's column in the New York Times is worth reading, and not just for the brilliant and characteristically eloquent way he takes down the hypocrites crying "hate speech" about the Smithsonian's exhibit including "A Fire in My Belly." Beyond the cold political outrage, Rich draws a parallel between the deaths of bullied gay teens and the deaths of so many artists and the ones they loved to AIDS. His words convey a palpable helplessness, the frustration of watching from a distance as so many suffer and die needlessly as those in power condemn them, of listening as the hateful bullying from the right once is once again allowed to marginalize the gay community without objection.
I can relate to the way Rich feels. It's appalling to see the Smithsonian capitulate to the homophobic bullies on the right offended by art. And while Republicans in congress pile on their own objections, they continue to hold up repealing Don't Ask Don't Tell, and, as Rich notes, have yet to participate in the anti-bullying it gets better project. I think that common sense tells us a piece of art that some find offensive is far less deserving of the condemnation of members of congress than a national epidemic of homophobia and its attending death and suffering. I don't understand. I know I am removed from it, living in the privilege of a white-skinned heterosexual body. But I couldn't help but see the faces of my friends in the stories of the young artists dying of and losing loved ones to AIDS, of the boys giving up on life because they fear they will never live and be accepted for who they are. I see them in these stories and I ache for losing them and seeing their losses. Most of all, I feel angry. Angry that I cannot protect them from people like this, people with the power to help them who do nothing but make it worse and then have the audacity to get angry about their expressions of frustration. It is unsurprising that a religion wielded as a tool of oppression will become the target of criticism and frustration by those it oppresses.
Heterosexual Christians wrote the laws of this country. They have determined who can vote, who can marry, whose lives are worth funding research to save and who gets to serve in the military. It is long past time for it to be ok to make and display and honor art that expresses the pain at the damage that their system has caused. The Smithsonian made a mistake, backing down in the face of this manufactured controversy. I think it is time that you (and more of those with the power to change our cultural acceptance of homophobia) stood up and said so.
Mr. President you campaigned on the promise that life for gay and lesbian Americans would be better under your administration than under President Bush's. While there may be a limit on how many minds you can legislate into acceptance, there are unjust laws that are within your power to change. The alteration of this exhibit at the Smithsonian may seem like a small thing, but it is the latest in a long series of capitulations to the idea that not only is being gay unacceptable, being angry at the way the rest of the country treats you isn't either.
Please read Mr. Rich's column, Mr. President, and ask yourself if you are still fine doing nothing on this issue.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
-Frank Rich "Gay Bashing at the Smithsonian"
Dear Mr. President,
Frank Rich's column in the New York Times is worth reading, and not just for the brilliant and characteristically eloquent way he takes down the hypocrites crying "hate speech" about the Smithsonian's exhibit including "A Fire in My Belly." Beyond the cold political outrage, Rich draws a parallel between the deaths of bullied gay teens and the deaths of so many artists and the ones they loved to AIDS. His words convey a palpable helplessness, the frustration of watching from a distance as so many suffer and die needlessly as those in power condemn them, of listening as the hateful bullying from the right once is once again allowed to marginalize the gay community without objection.
I can relate to the way Rich feels. It's appalling to see the Smithsonian capitulate to the homophobic bullies on the right offended by art. And while Republicans in congress pile on their own objections, they continue to hold up repealing Don't Ask Don't Tell, and, as Rich notes, have yet to participate in the anti-bullying it gets better project. I think that common sense tells us a piece of art that some find offensive is far less deserving of the condemnation of members of congress than a national epidemic of homophobia and its attending death and suffering. I don't understand. I know I am removed from it, living in the privilege of a white-skinned heterosexual body. But I couldn't help but see the faces of my friends in the stories of the young artists dying of and losing loved ones to AIDS, of the boys giving up on life because they fear they will never live and be accepted for who they are. I see them in these stories and I ache for losing them and seeing their losses. Most of all, I feel angry. Angry that I cannot protect them from people like this, people with the power to help them who do nothing but make it worse and then have the audacity to get angry about their expressions of frustration. It is unsurprising that a religion wielded as a tool of oppression will become the target of criticism and frustration by those it oppresses.
Heterosexual Christians wrote the laws of this country. They have determined who can vote, who can marry, whose lives are worth funding research to save and who gets to serve in the military. It is long past time for it to be ok to make and display and honor art that expresses the pain at the damage that their system has caused. The Smithsonian made a mistake, backing down in the face of this manufactured controversy. I think it is time that you (and more of those with the power to change our cultural acceptance of homophobia) stood up and said so.
Mr. President you campaigned on the promise that life for gay and lesbian Americans would be better under your administration than under President Bush's. While there may be a limit on how many minds you can legislate into acceptance, there are unjust laws that are within your power to change. The alteration of this exhibit at the Smithsonian may seem like a small thing, but it is the latest in a long series of capitulations to the idea that not only is being gay unacceptable, being angry at the way the rest of the country treats you isn't either.
Please read Mr. Rich's column, Mr. President, and ask yourself if you are still fine doing nothing on this issue.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Day 342- Oklahoma makes me hopeless
Dear Mr. President,
One of my final papers is on State Question 755. I would not normally write to you about issues of state government unless it was my own state, but the broader implications of this issue and it's popular support are really getting me down today. As I'm sure you know, State Question 755 would amend Oklahoma's state constitution to prevent courts from considering Shariah or International law when deciding cases. While I have confidence that wiser heads in Federal courts will prevail, it isn't this law, or the effects it would have that bothers me the most.
State Question 755 passed with almost 71% of the vote. Not just a majority but an overwhelming majority of Oklahoma voters were convinced that the threat of Shariah law is dire enough to warrant a constitutional amendment. I believe that many issues have perfectly reasonable people on both sides, that intelligent, rational thinkers exist as both conservatives and liberals. I don't believe that SQ 755 is one of those issues. I will say now (and I don't particularly care if it is disrespectful) that any one who voted for this is either stupid, uneducated, racist or easily manipulated. It really depresses me to know that 70% of Oklahoma's voters fall into that category. It makes me think that maybe public education is even worse off than I'd realized.
Researching this issue has led to reading a number of comments from supporters wearing the modern-day white sheets of internet anonymity. CAIR is a trojan horse, they say, Muslims are evil, they say, Islamic law demands that you beat your wife, force her into a burqa and mutilate your daughter, they say. I wish I was exaggerating but these are all comments I see repeated again and again. I think this must have been what it felt like to be a white American during the era of Jim Crow. I see this pointless, hateful, twisted logic written in to law and supported by the majority and hidden behind fear-mongering and I can't do anything about it. No one wants to listen to reason, no one wants to even hear information that might contradict their beliefs. It's like banging my head against a wall.
I guess I should take comfort in the fact that Jim Crow laws were overturned, the civil rights movement did change a lot of minds and that things did, slowly, get better. Muslims in this country may be the convenient scapegoat of our irrational fear at the moment, but in a few decades or centuries it will get better. What really bothers me is that, even if things have progressively improved for minority groups in America, it seems as though the ignorance and fear that caused the oppression and wrote it into our laws (and even our founding documents) hasn't gone anywhere. We stumble from enemy to enemy without questioning the real problem- our ignorance and our fear.
I don't have anything constructive to offer. The courts will strike down SQ 755 and it will materialize in another form on another ballot in 2012. I want to be cheered by the inevitable triumph of judicial wisdom over popular ignorance, but I'm having a hard time seeing the good in a system that pits one judge against 70% of a state's voters and hopes that the right thing will be done. How do you maintain your own faith in the voters, especially after this year's midterm elections? How do you explain an initiative like 755 passing with such a wide margin of victory?
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
One of my final papers is on State Question 755. I would not normally write to you about issues of state government unless it was my own state, but the broader implications of this issue and it's popular support are really getting me down today. As I'm sure you know, State Question 755 would amend Oklahoma's state constitution to prevent courts from considering Shariah or International law when deciding cases. While I have confidence that wiser heads in Federal courts will prevail, it isn't this law, or the effects it would have that bothers me the most.
State Question 755 passed with almost 71% of the vote. Not just a majority but an overwhelming majority of Oklahoma voters were convinced that the threat of Shariah law is dire enough to warrant a constitutional amendment. I believe that many issues have perfectly reasonable people on both sides, that intelligent, rational thinkers exist as both conservatives and liberals. I don't believe that SQ 755 is one of those issues. I will say now (and I don't particularly care if it is disrespectful) that any one who voted for this is either stupid, uneducated, racist or easily manipulated. It really depresses me to know that 70% of Oklahoma's voters fall into that category. It makes me think that maybe public education is even worse off than I'd realized.
Researching this issue has led to reading a number of comments from supporters wearing the modern-day white sheets of internet anonymity. CAIR is a trojan horse, they say, Muslims are evil, they say, Islamic law demands that you beat your wife, force her into a burqa and mutilate your daughter, they say. I wish I was exaggerating but these are all comments I see repeated again and again. I think this must have been what it felt like to be a white American during the era of Jim Crow. I see this pointless, hateful, twisted logic written in to law and supported by the majority and hidden behind fear-mongering and I can't do anything about it. No one wants to listen to reason, no one wants to even hear information that might contradict their beliefs. It's like banging my head against a wall.
I guess I should take comfort in the fact that Jim Crow laws were overturned, the civil rights movement did change a lot of minds and that things did, slowly, get better. Muslims in this country may be the convenient scapegoat of our irrational fear at the moment, but in a few decades or centuries it will get better. What really bothers me is that, even if things have progressively improved for minority groups in America, it seems as though the ignorance and fear that caused the oppression and wrote it into our laws (and even our founding documents) hasn't gone anywhere. We stumble from enemy to enemy without questioning the real problem- our ignorance and our fear.
I don't have anything constructive to offer. The courts will strike down SQ 755 and it will materialize in another form on another ballot in 2012. I want to be cheered by the inevitable triumph of judicial wisdom over popular ignorance, but I'm having a hard time seeing the good in a system that pits one judge against 70% of a state's voters and hopes that the right thing will be done. How do you maintain your own faith in the voters, especially after this year's midterm elections? How do you explain an initiative like 755 passing with such a wide margin of victory?
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Day 334- The perfect storm
Dear Mr. President,
Call me crazy, but I suspect that most Americans would pay a few cents more for food if it decreases the likelihood that that food doesn't have e. coli, salmonella, or any number of potentially deadly food-borne contaminants. Personally, I'm willing to pay quite a bit more for food that (besides being generally non-toxic) is also produced with as little harm to living things and to the environment as possible. (I know, I know, that's just mind-blowingly leftist of me to say.) So when congress passed the Food Safety Act today (and you applauded them for it) I figured that this would cause little excitement from the right. Turns out I'm not getting any less naive with age, because Glenn Beck called this "criminal" and suggested that "the perfect storm" is upon us and it's time to "close the bunker door."
I have to say, as much as I appreciate Mr. Beck for giving Jon Stewart something funny to do most nights, I'm really underwhelmed by his sustained hysteria. Food safety? REALLY, Mr. Beck? REALLY? The problem, of course, is that no matter how little credibility I may believe Mr. Beck has, people do take him seriously. Lots of people. People I can't dismiss out of hand because some of them are surely related to me, and all of them probably have loved ones who think they are rational enough human beings. And when Mr. Beck uses words like "criminal" and implies that a relatively modest expansion of government oversight for massive national industries that people trust with their health, (and the health of their children,) is tantamount to a natural disaster, well, people who take him seriously are going to get upset.
Mr. Beck's language implies physical, immediate danger. Storms don't think or reason; they destroy. Storms wreak senseless havoc. Instead of engaging in honest discussion about the role of government in agriculture and food production, Mr. Beck wants his audience to panic, to react with fear and instinct and emotion. Because escaping a storm isn't about reasonable discourse it's about survival; it justifies all kinds of conduct that would not otherwise be acceptable.
I think one of the fundamental divides in this country is between those of us who are willing to turn something as benign as a food safety bill (or really any political disagreement) into a harbinger of the apocalypse, and those of us who are committed to more reasonable, saner discussion of the issues. I think that you fall into the latter category, which is why I respect you and, unfortunately, also probably why you "lose" many of the contrived news-cycle battles with the ever-hysterical right. I'm glad that you don't sink to that level, and I like to think that winning re-election won't require it of you.
Then again, I've already demonstrated a really unhealthy amount of naive good faith in people, so maybe you should break out the end days language and start invoking life-or-death stakes for every legislative battle you face. The sky is falling. The sky is falling. The perfect storm is upon us.
Or something.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Call me crazy, but I suspect that most Americans would pay a few cents more for food if it decreases the likelihood that that food doesn't have e. coli, salmonella, or any number of potentially deadly food-borne contaminants. Personally, I'm willing to pay quite a bit more for food that (besides being generally non-toxic) is also produced with as little harm to living things and to the environment as possible. (I know, I know, that's just mind-blowingly leftist of me to say.) So when congress passed the Food Safety Act today (and you applauded them for it) I figured that this would cause little excitement from the right. Turns out I'm not getting any less naive with age, because Glenn Beck called this "criminal" and suggested that "the perfect storm" is upon us and it's time to "close the bunker door."
I have to say, as much as I appreciate Mr. Beck for giving Jon Stewart something funny to do most nights, I'm really underwhelmed by his sustained hysteria. Food safety? REALLY, Mr. Beck? REALLY? The problem, of course, is that no matter how little credibility I may believe Mr. Beck has, people do take him seriously. Lots of people. People I can't dismiss out of hand because some of them are surely related to me, and all of them probably have loved ones who think they are rational enough human beings. And when Mr. Beck uses words like "criminal" and implies that a relatively modest expansion of government oversight for massive national industries that people trust with their health, (and the health of their children,) is tantamount to a natural disaster, well, people who take him seriously are going to get upset.
Mr. Beck's language implies physical, immediate danger. Storms don't think or reason; they destroy. Storms wreak senseless havoc. Instead of engaging in honest discussion about the role of government in agriculture and food production, Mr. Beck wants his audience to panic, to react with fear and instinct and emotion. Because escaping a storm isn't about reasonable discourse it's about survival; it justifies all kinds of conduct that would not otherwise be acceptable.
I think one of the fundamental divides in this country is between those of us who are willing to turn something as benign as a food safety bill (or really any political disagreement) into a harbinger of the apocalypse, and those of us who are committed to more reasonable, saner discussion of the issues. I think that you fall into the latter category, which is why I respect you and, unfortunately, also probably why you "lose" many of the contrived news-cycle battles with the ever-hysterical right. I'm glad that you don't sink to that level, and I like to think that winning re-election won't require it of you.
Then again, I've already demonstrated a really unhealthy amount of naive good faith in people, so maybe you should break out the end days language and start invoking life-or-death stakes for every legislative battle you face. The sky is falling. The sky is falling. The perfect storm is upon us.
Or something.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Day 304- Halloween
Dear Mr. President,
Tonight my neighborhood is alive with revelers. Halloween on Capitol Hill is more exciting than Christmas, and really any other celebration (except perhaps Block Party or Pride.) In a neighborhood where no one needs an excuse to wear costumes, All Hallow's Eve is on opportunity to pull out all the stops. And while some might disapprove of the troops of wildly dressed, raucous partiers, I think the festivity is uplifting. Even the increasingly skimpy costumes favored by the women of my generation, which I used to decry as anti-feminist and degrading, seem like harmless fun. After all, what better night could there be than this to celebrate the very thing that has terrified so many for all of human history, that plays villain in most major religions, the horror of a woman's unabashed sexuality? (And, to be fair, I know more than a few men giving sexy little dresses a try this year.)
While my roommate and I watch a marathon of creepy movies and I drink the first cup of coffee I've had all week in preparation for the inevitable all-night paper-writing session I have ahead, the shouts of a neighborhood somewhat drunkenly celebrating don't seem taunting or annoying, but rather festive. Our little black cat is curled up at my feet and our apartment is still covered in decorative cobwebs, carved pumpkins, and flickering candles. Small children are running around dressed as ghouls and tea party candidates gobbling all the waxy chocolate and high-fructose corn syrup they can stand. The busses are filled with Mad Hatters and Fantastic Foxes and every imaginable kind of zombie. No talking head is complaining about the lack of tradition or the over-commercialization of the day, warning us of a "war on Halloween." Halloween's great sacrement is to hold nothing sacred; to celebrate the depraved, the frivolous, the ugly.
It is cold but, for Seattle, an October day as dry and clear and full of bright fall leaves as this one is a rare treat. I spent more Halloweens soggily trick-or-treating under an umbrella than I care to remember, and I'm glad to know that this year local children will be spared our usual deluge. I should get to work on my midterm papers and stop musing about this lovely, spooky holiday I hope I'm never too old to appreciate. Happy Halloween.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Tonight my neighborhood is alive with revelers. Halloween on Capitol Hill is more exciting than Christmas, and really any other celebration (except perhaps Block Party or Pride.) In a neighborhood where no one needs an excuse to wear costumes, All Hallow's Eve is on opportunity to pull out all the stops. And while some might disapprove of the troops of wildly dressed, raucous partiers, I think the festivity is uplifting. Even the increasingly skimpy costumes favored by the women of my generation, which I used to decry as anti-feminist and degrading, seem like harmless fun. After all, what better night could there be than this to celebrate the very thing that has terrified so many for all of human history, that plays villain in most major religions, the horror of a woman's unabashed sexuality? (And, to be fair, I know more than a few men giving sexy little dresses a try this year.)
While my roommate and I watch a marathon of creepy movies and I drink the first cup of coffee I've had all week in preparation for the inevitable all-night paper-writing session I have ahead, the shouts of a neighborhood somewhat drunkenly celebrating don't seem taunting or annoying, but rather festive. Our little black cat is curled up at my feet and our apartment is still covered in decorative cobwebs, carved pumpkins, and flickering candles. Small children are running around dressed as ghouls and tea party candidates gobbling all the waxy chocolate and high-fructose corn syrup they can stand. The busses are filled with Mad Hatters and Fantastic Foxes and every imaginable kind of zombie. No talking head is complaining about the lack of tradition or the over-commercialization of the day, warning us of a "war on Halloween." Halloween's great sacrement is to hold nothing sacred; to celebrate the depraved, the frivolous, the ugly.
It is cold but, for Seattle, an October day as dry and clear and full of bright fall leaves as this one is a rare treat. I spent more Halloweens soggily trick-or-treating under an umbrella than I care to remember, and I'm glad to know that this year local children will be spared our usual deluge. I should get to work on my midterm papers and stop musing about this lovely, spooky holiday I hope I'm never too old to appreciate. Happy Halloween.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Day 280- liberty, and justice for all.
Dear Mr. President,
As a child I had an annoying habit of refusing to do anything that could not be justified as useful or necessary. Teachers, parents and other adults were often exasperated by my need to question their requests and refusal to follow orders I didn't see the purpose of. Though I believed in God as a child, I refused to say the pledge of allegiance. For one thing, I found the odd addition of "under God" to be a reminder of the worst aspects of American history. Additionally, reciting a pledge I'd heard so many times the words had lost their meaning seemed like a poor substitute for actual love of my country. Like compulsory displays of faith, these forced demonstrations of patriotism always rung falsely to my young ears. I wondered, don't the actions we choose mean more than the things we are compelled to?
I'd forgotten about this entirely as an adult. At 24 I'm not often required to say the pledge. I suppose as a student of public school it was only the daily reminder that stoked my objections, because I quite honestly have thought very little at all about the pledge of allegiance since graduation, at least until today. Today I saw a news story out of Mississippi, where a lawyer was held in contempt for his refusal to recite the pledge of allegiance when ordered by a judge.
When I saw this story I remembered my own days sitting or standing silently while the other students in the class said the Pledge. One devote Mormon used to say the words "under God" with more emphasis than the rest of the pledge, looking around defiantly as though waiting to challenge any of us to contradict her. I suppose I have no real objection to the idea of America being "under God", though, obviously, this is unfairly exclusive of atheist Americans; at least, I think it is important for Americans to see ourselves as under something, anything, so that we don't imagine our dominion as a superpower to be absolute. "One nation, under a regard for the rights and dignity of every human" doesn't exactly have the same ring to it, but is maybe closer to what I mean. The whole process felt close to idolatry or religious devotion; a kool-aid drinking I just didn't see as having any practical purpose. If an adult had ever explained to me why we say the pledge in a way that had made sense, I probably would have done it. Now that I'm all grown up and worried about more important things, I suppose I've reached the conclusion that the pledge is ultimately symbolic. And symbolism may have it's place, I suppose, but not when it comes at the direct expense of the rights and freedoms that make our country worth my allegiance in the first place.
Anyway, I hope that the charges against the Mississippi lawyer are dropped. His right, and my own, to refuse to say the pledge is what makes me proud of this country. I think that means ever so much more than the words themselves, which are, after all, subject to change at the whims of American foreign policy. I may not give the pledge much thought, now that I'm not asked to say it every morning, but I often think about and am grateful for the freedom of speech given to me and exercised by this lawyer. A pledge cannot have meaning when it is coerced and this man's stand against it is far more patriotic than the judge's attempt to force him to say words that ultimately mean nothing without the right to refuse to say them.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
As a child I had an annoying habit of refusing to do anything that could not be justified as useful or necessary. Teachers, parents and other adults were often exasperated by my need to question their requests and refusal to follow orders I didn't see the purpose of. Though I believed in God as a child, I refused to say the pledge of allegiance. For one thing, I found the odd addition of "under God" to be a reminder of the worst aspects of American history. Additionally, reciting a pledge I'd heard so many times the words had lost their meaning seemed like a poor substitute for actual love of my country. Like compulsory displays of faith, these forced demonstrations of patriotism always rung falsely to my young ears. I wondered, don't the actions we choose mean more than the things we are compelled to?
I'd forgotten about this entirely as an adult. At 24 I'm not often required to say the pledge. I suppose as a student of public school it was only the daily reminder that stoked my objections, because I quite honestly have thought very little at all about the pledge of allegiance since graduation, at least until today. Today I saw a news story out of Mississippi, where a lawyer was held in contempt for his refusal to recite the pledge of allegiance when ordered by a judge.
When I saw this story I remembered my own days sitting or standing silently while the other students in the class said the Pledge. One devote Mormon used to say the words "under God" with more emphasis than the rest of the pledge, looking around defiantly as though waiting to challenge any of us to contradict her. I suppose I have no real objection to the idea of America being "under God", though, obviously, this is unfairly exclusive of atheist Americans; at least, I think it is important for Americans to see ourselves as under something, anything, so that we don't imagine our dominion as a superpower to be absolute. "One nation, under a regard for the rights and dignity of every human" doesn't exactly have the same ring to it, but is maybe closer to what I mean. The whole process felt close to idolatry or religious devotion; a kool-aid drinking I just didn't see as having any practical purpose. If an adult had ever explained to me why we say the pledge in a way that had made sense, I probably would have done it. Now that I'm all grown up and worried about more important things, I suppose I've reached the conclusion that the pledge is ultimately symbolic. And symbolism may have it's place, I suppose, but not when it comes at the direct expense of the rights and freedoms that make our country worth my allegiance in the first place.
Anyway, I hope that the charges against the Mississippi lawyer are dropped. His right, and my own, to refuse to say the pledge is what makes me proud of this country. I think that means ever so much more than the words themselves, which are, after all, subject to change at the whims of American foreign policy. I may not give the pledge much thought, now that I'm not asked to say it every morning, but I often think about and am grateful for the freedom of speech given to me and exercised by this lawyer. A pledge cannot have meaning when it is coerced and this man's stand against it is far more patriotic than the judge's attempt to force him to say words that ultimately mean nothing without the right to refuse to say them.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Day 252-Hype
Dear Mr. President,
After I posted yesterday's letter I received several disheartening responses. "Is this meant to be serious? " one reader asked, "That President Obama could influence these people to reconsider their actions? You must understand that a direct statement from him on this gives these people the profile they so desperately crave to do what they do in front of the largest possible audience." This morning you gave an interview in which you clearly expressed your disapproval for the planned event, without elvating your opponent. Thank you for this. Such a balance is a difficult one to strike and, given the volatility of the situation, I thought your words were well chosen. I don't know if you changed the man's mind or if his better nature is stronger than I give it credit for. I don't think I was off base yesterday in implying that you had the ability to appeal to this man's humanity, or that, at the very least, it was worth a try.
Since he has announced the suspension of the event, much discussion by the media has focused on the accusations that this story was blown out of proportion by the media. I considered the well-made point of my cynical reader's comment about the risk of granting this man's clear desire for attention, but I stand by what I wrote and what I asked of you. For one thing, yesterday was several weeks past the point of hushing this story up and hoping no one would notice. The outraged protests set off by the Danish cartoons several years back came months after the cartoons had been published- when apologies were basically useless. Had this "Koran Burning Day" come to light months later, it would have caused considerably more uproar. If 50 people had burned Qur'ans and no one had noticed, I concede that no actual harm would have resulted in the symbolic action. But, by the time I heard about the event it was on CNN; the damage was pretty much done. I'm glad that things seemed to have calmed down (and also that Imam Rauf is refusing to negotiate the location of Park 51,) and I believe much of that credit goes to your leadership.
I don't know the best way to handle these stories in general. On one hand, it does elevate crazy people to give them national news coverage. On the other hand, the media didn't say anything untruthful, and it was part of a larger trend of anti-Islam incidents in the last few weeks. I can see why it was relevant to the news. It also gave Americans a chance to publicly demonstrate our opposition to this behavior, and for people of all faiths to intervene on behalf of Muslims- a symbolism far more powerful than the most heartfelt apology might have sounded should the story have been told after the fact. Consider, also, that while this man's church may have only had 50 members, the "International Koran Burning Day" facebook page now has 15,000 fans. That may be nothing compared to the group opposing it, which has 10 times as many, but it shows that these 50 people were not acting alone. (Especially considering the number of people who feel this way and can't work facebook, which can't be inconsiderable.) This small man and his small band of followers had the support many more Americans who agreed with them. Taking this chance to show the world that they don't speak for all Americans, especially not our government, was absolutely the right thing to do. Thank you.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
After I posted yesterday's letter I received several disheartening responses. "Is this meant to be serious? " one reader asked, "That President Obama could influence these people to reconsider their actions? You must understand that a direct statement from him on this gives these people the profile they so desperately crave to do what they do in front of the largest possible audience." This morning you gave an interview in which you clearly expressed your disapproval for the planned event, without elvating your opponent. Thank you for this. Such a balance is a difficult one to strike and, given the volatility of the situation, I thought your words were well chosen. I don't know if you changed the man's mind or if his better nature is stronger than I give it credit for. I don't think I was off base yesterday in implying that you had the ability to appeal to this man's humanity, or that, at the very least, it was worth a try.
Since he has announced the suspension of the event, much discussion by the media has focused on the accusations that this story was blown out of proportion by the media. I considered the well-made point of my cynical reader's comment about the risk of granting this man's clear desire for attention, but I stand by what I wrote and what I asked of you. For one thing, yesterday was several weeks past the point of hushing this story up and hoping no one would notice. The outraged protests set off by the Danish cartoons several years back came months after the cartoons had been published- when apologies were basically useless. Had this "Koran Burning Day" come to light months later, it would have caused considerably more uproar. If 50 people had burned Qur'ans and no one had noticed, I concede that no actual harm would have resulted in the symbolic action. But, by the time I heard about the event it was on CNN; the damage was pretty much done. I'm glad that things seemed to have calmed down (and also that Imam Rauf is refusing to negotiate the location of Park 51,) and I believe much of that credit goes to your leadership.
I don't know the best way to handle these stories in general. On one hand, it does elevate crazy people to give them national news coverage. On the other hand, the media didn't say anything untruthful, and it was part of a larger trend of anti-Islam incidents in the last few weeks. I can see why it was relevant to the news. It also gave Americans a chance to publicly demonstrate our opposition to this behavior, and for people of all faiths to intervene on behalf of Muslims- a symbolism far more powerful than the most heartfelt apology might have sounded should the story have been told after the fact. Consider, also, that while this man's church may have only had 50 members, the "International Koran Burning Day" facebook page now has 15,000 fans. That may be nothing compared to the group opposing it, which has 10 times as many, but it shows that these 50 people were not acting alone. (Especially considering the number of people who feel this way and can't work facebook, which can't be inconsiderable.) This small man and his small band of followers had the support many more Americans who agreed with them. Taking this chance to show the world that they don't speak for all Americans, especially not our government, was absolutely the right thing to do. Thank you.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Day 251- Leadership
Dear Mr. President,
I generally do not hold you accountable for the actions and beliefs of those who support you. Martin Peretz, for example, may be a prominent member of the media and a self-described democratic loyalist, but when he expresses his view that Muslims have no claim to first Amendment rights, I don't blame you for that. I do, however, expect you to speak out. I do expect you to show the rest of the world that America cannot accurately be represented by cult leaders in Florida or racists in The New Republic. I expect you to speak out because the world is watching these people and it is watching you.
I don't expect that you act alone. I think that you should get every prominent and influential politician in this country, Republican and Democrat, to collectively issue a condemnation for these hateful acts and words. To challenge Americans to rise above this, to be better than these small-minded men and women would represent us to be. I can imagine the power of you, both former Presidents Bush, President and Secretary Clinton standing together to make this request. I may not have agreed with President Bush, but he has an obligation to speak to the parts of the country still irrationally enraged at Muslims over 9/11. A tangible demonstration from current and former GOP leaders might go a long way toward calming down the violent Islamophobia on the right, just as you, Bill and Hillary Clinton might do for the left. I believe that silence in the face of these dangerous swells of anger is tantamount to complicity.
We expect our leaders to stand up in moments like these. I'm not asking that you outlaw the perfectly legal actions of these groups (no matter how reprehensible or dangerous they might be.) This isn't a legal issue but a moral one and you still wield enough influence over any audience you speak to that a few words from you might yet summon the humanity in these people to make them reconsider their actions. At the very least, it will demonstrate clearly that they do not act in the name of all Americans. This morning all I could think about were the young boys and old men in Palestine who asked me over and over again to tell my country they were not terrorists. Their own helplessness in the face of a media narrative that could not be stopped was deeply moving. I think I finally understand what they felt like. I want to write a letter to the world and say, please, believe me, American's aren't racists, we're not bigots, we're not violent and hateful and irrational. Please don't judge us by the actions of a few crazy people who act in our name.
So I hope that before Saturday you and every other influential American with access to a microphone has taken to the airwaves or written in the papers or published on the internet an unequivocal denunciation of the Qur'an burning and the rallying cries against Islam as a religion and Muslims as people. We must show the world that this is not who we are, and that has to start with our leaders. I think that few days in recent memory have as much power to transform as this year's eleventh of September has; I don't want to wake up Sunday morning and wonder what country I'm living in.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
I generally do not hold you accountable for the actions and beliefs of those who support you. Martin Peretz, for example, may be a prominent member of the media and a self-described democratic loyalist, but when he expresses his view that Muslims have no claim to first Amendment rights, I don't blame you for that. I do, however, expect you to speak out. I do expect you to show the rest of the world that America cannot accurately be represented by cult leaders in Florida or racists in The New Republic. I expect you to speak out because the world is watching these people and it is watching you.
I don't expect that you act alone. I think that you should get every prominent and influential politician in this country, Republican and Democrat, to collectively issue a condemnation for these hateful acts and words. To challenge Americans to rise above this, to be better than these small-minded men and women would represent us to be. I can imagine the power of you, both former Presidents Bush, President and Secretary Clinton standing together to make this request. I may not have agreed with President Bush, but he has an obligation to speak to the parts of the country still irrationally enraged at Muslims over 9/11. A tangible demonstration from current and former GOP leaders might go a long way toward calming down the violent Islamophobia on the right, just as you, Bill and Hillary Clinton might do for the left. I believe that silence in the face of these dangerous swells of anger is tantamount to complicity.
We expect our leaders to stand up in moments like these. I'm not asking that you outlaw the perfectly legal actions of these groups (no matter how reprehensible or dangerous they might be.) This isn't a legal issue but a moral one and you still wield enough influence over any audience you speak to that a few words from you might yet summon the humanity in these people to make them reconsider their actions. At the very least, it will demonstrate clearly that they do not act in the name of all Americans. This morning all I could think about were the young boys and old men in Palestine who asked me over and over again to tell my country they were not terrorists. Their own helplessness in the face of a media narrative that could not be stopped was deeply moving. I think I finally understand what they felt like. I want to write a letter to the world and say, please, believe me, American's aren't racists, we're not bigots, we're not violent and hateful and irrational. Please don't judge us by the actions of a few crazy people who act in our name.
So I hope that before Saturday you and every other influential American with access to a microphone has taken to the airwaves or written in the papers or published on the internet an unequivocal denunciation of the Qur'an burning and the rallying cries against Islam as a religion and Muslims as people. We must show the world that this is not who we are, and that has to start with our leaders. I think that few days in recent memory have as much power to transform as this year's eleventh of September has; I don't want to wake up Sunday morning and wonder what country I'm living in.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Day 240- Keeping it in perspective
Dear Mr. President,
Tonight the onset of a minor sore throat has me slightly panicked. It is almost certainly just a cold. I'll drink tea and plenty of fluids and be fine in a few days. The thought that keeps lingering in the back of my mind, however, is about the enormous medical debt my sister once had after a case of strep throat. At the time she was uninsured and it took her over a year to pay off the considerable ER bills. I looked in to what it would cost to be added on to my mother's policy, or to buy my own insurance through my school. Either plan would leave me with a co-pay that I (more than likely) couldn't afford, and the premiums would be more than half of what I pay in rent each month. I know the arguments for having insurance; I want to have insurance. But I also like buying groceries. What I mean to say is I could really go for some socialized medicine right about now.
I seem to be losing some perspective on the actual size of my problems lately. I should be glad that all I have is a sore throat, and that I'm healthy enough to work, and able to go to school. These should be good enough for me, right now. It could be worse, after all, I could be a meat-eater.
Speaking of losing all perspective, it seems that our country has been "wandering in darkness." It was really unlikely that I would find much to agree with Glenn Beck about today, but his religious tones surprised me. All of his talk about returning America to God and restoring our honor just didn't make any sense. Am I, as a secular American, laboring under the false illusion that this country has never had any shortage of religious devotion? Or is Beck, as a Christian, deluded in his idea that America has become too secular? I think the problem is that, so long as our standards for "too religious" or "too secular" are "more religious/secular than me" we will always see ourselves as a persecuted class. Anyway, Beck's speech today seemed harmless enough; if I think that his timing was tasteless and his message off-base, well, that's probably the nicest response I've had to anything he's ever said.
Lately I've been talking to a friend quite a bit about our mutual feeling that we've regressed. Bad habits and old problems seem to be creeping back in to our behavior, while the progress we'd made toward life goals is slipping away. This feeling of falling backwards was beginning to get overwhelming. Regaining my perspective on this, accepting that growth isn't linear or neat or increasing at a predictable rate has helped me calm down and remember that a few bad days don't mean that it's ok to give up. I think I see the whole Tea Party movement as a big regression for our country, back to the mentality that elected and re-elected President Bush. It may be all I can do to comfort myself with the thought that it, too, is a temporary setback, the inevitable ebb of our progress away from those times. A few bad days (or news cycles, or elections) don't mean that it's ok to give up. For now, I'm going to try to sleep away whatever is ailing me and avoid any WebMD-induced panic.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Tonight the onset of a minor sore throat has me slightly panicked. It is almost certainly just a cold. I'll drink tea and plenty of fluids and be fine in a few days. The thought that keeps lingering in the back of my mind, however, is about the enormous medical debt my sister once had after a case of strep throat. At the time she was uninsured and it took her over a year to pay off the considerable ER bills. I looked in to what it would cost to be added on to my mother's policy, or to buy my own insurance through my school. Either plan would leave me with a co-pay that I (more than likely) couldn't afford, and the premiums would be more than half of what I pay in rent each month. I know the arguments for having insurance; I want to have insurance. But I also like buying groceries. What I mean to say is I could really go for some socialized medicine right about now.
I seem to be losing some perspective on the actual size of my problems lately. I should be glad that all I have is a sore throat, and that I'm healthy enough to work, and able to go to school. These should be good enough for me, right now. It could be worse, after all, I could be a meat-eater.
Speaking of losing all perspective, it seems that our country has been "wandering in darkness." It was really unlikely that I would find much to agree with Glenn Beck about today, but his religious tones surprised me. All of his talk about returning America to God and restoring our honor just didn't make any sense. Am I, as a secular American, laboring under the false illusion that this country has never had any shortage of religious devotion? Or is Beck, as a Christian, deluded in his idea that America has become too secular? I think the problem is that, so long as our standards for "too religious" or "too secular" are "more religious/secular than me" we will always see ourselves as a persecuted class. Anyway, Beck's speech today seemed harmless enough; if I think that his timing was tasteless and his message off-base, well, that's probably the nicest response I've had to anything he's ever said.
Lately I've been talking to a friend quite a bit about our mutual feeling that we've regressed. Bad habits and old problems seem to be creeping back in to our behavior, while the progress we'd made toward life goals is slipping away. This feeling of falling backwards was beginning to get overwhelming. Regaining my perspective on this, accepting that growth isn't linear or neat or increasing at a predictable rate has helped me calm down and remember that a few bad days don't mean that it's ok to give up. I think I see the whole Tea Party movement as a big regression for our country, back to the mentality that elected and re-elected President Bush. It may be all I can do to comfort myself with the thought that it, too, is a temporary setback, the inevitable ebb of our progress away from those times. A few bad days (or news cycles, or elections) don't mean that it's ok to give up. For now, I'm going to try to sleep away whatever is ailing me and avoid any WebMD-induced panic.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Day 237- Hate crimes
Dear Mr. President,
The stabbing of a New York taxi driver because he was Muslim is all I can think about tonight. Every article I've read about it so far is suggesting that the recent increase in tensions over Park 51 contributed to the suspect's anger at Muslims. I don't know if that is true, I don't claim to know what was in this man's head or what motivated his ugly act of violence. I suspect, based on the statements and the charges filed, that this crime may not have occurred if this controversy had not been stirred up. I believe that there are a number of people reacting honestly to false information. For one thing, people believe that Park 51 is a mosque. For another, they believe it is at Ground Zero. Finally, the slanderous way many have discussed Imam Faisal Rauf has many people convinced that the group behind Park 51 is extremist in nature. All of these are outright lies, but I understand how those who believe them might feel strongly opposed to Park 51.
Tonight I am not angry at the people believing these lies. Tonight I am angry at the people who brought out this issue. It will likely never be admitted, but out there now are those who, in their heart of hearts, know that the only reason they have pushed this issue and upset so many people about something so harmless is to win an election. Why else would this be a non-story in 2009 and a front-page issue in 2010? If I am right about these two beliefs, that the attack on the driver was motivated by the anti-Muslim sentiments stirred up intentionally by those on the right who would benefit from it, than Mr. Sharif's blood is on the hands of the people who pushed the false narrative about this group and the community center they plan to build.
The entire country has been a victim of a hate crime lately. I don't want to try to minimize the horror of the specific crime committed against Ahmed Sharif (and not just because I have particularly strong feelings about neck violence,) so I don't intend to trivialize it, at all by saying this. The crime committed against Americans is psychological. We've all been affected by this ploy, this attempt to divide us and to manipulate us. This blatant stoking of fear and hate and violence. I don't know who to blame and I don't want to blame any one. Unlike the crime against Mr. Sharif, this crime has no recourse in a court of law. I just want it to stop. I want some one with a loud enough voice (or a big enough podium, or enough cameras in their press room) to stand up and say that attacking Americans like this is not acceptable. That we will not abide the lies and the violence caused by those lies, or let them be called by any other name.
I believe that this is a moment that will live on in our history as a test of the values we aspire to- the named by our founders as the purpose of the American endeavor. This is a moment in which, more than ever, we need Presidential leadership. Even if you can't make it all right by saying the right thing, the right thing needs to be said; this is America, damn it. Either we stand for what we've always claimed to stand for or we don't. This decision has to be made by every one of us, we have to commit to it and live by it and call out those who would turn us against it. Or there will be more incidents like this stabbing. There will be more innocent blood spilt by the disturbed, misguided and easily manipulated. I do not believe that the people seeking to spread this controversy for political gain intended to cause violence, but I also don't think they will ever be forced to answer for it in the same way that Imam Rauf and those of his faith are forced to answer for every crime committed in the name of Islam. It isn't about naming a villain or calling out those who have had an emotional reaction to this issue. It isn't about calling them racists or seeking to divide us further. This isn't a partisan issue and you should not have to tread so lightly around it. Jon Stewart and Keith Olbermann should not be the most eloquent or the most courageous voices of reason in this debate, sir- you should. The right words from a President can unite the divided and calm the outraged. Tonight, as I hope that Mr. Sharif heals quickly and completely, I will hope also that you find those words and help the country to do the same.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
The stabbing of a New York taxi driver because he was Muslim is all I can think about tonight. Every article I've read about it so far is suggesting that the recent increase in tensions over Park 51 contributed to the suspect's anger at Muslims. I don't know if that is true, I don't claim to know what was in this man's head or what motivated his ugly act of violence. I suspect, based on the statements and the charges filed, that this crime may not have occurred if this controversy had not been stirred up. I believe that there are a number of people reacting honestly to false information. For one thing, people believe that Park 51 is a mosque. For another, they believe it is at Ground Zero. Finally, the slanderous way many have discussed Imam Faisal Rauf has many people convinced that the group behind Park 51 is extremist in nature. All of these are outright lies, but I understand how those who believe them might feel strongly opposed to Park 51.
Tonight I am not angry at the people believing these lies. Tonight I am angry at the people who brought out this issue. It will likely never be admitted, but out there now are those who, in their heart of hearts, know that the only reason they have pushed this issue and upset so many people about something so harmless is to win an election. Why else would this be a non-story in 2009 and a front-page issue in 2010? If I am right about these two beliefs, that the attack on the driver was motivated by the anti-Muslim sentiments stirred up intentionally by those on the right who would benefit from it, than Mr. Sharif's blood is on the hands of the people who pushed the false narrative about this group and the community center they plan to build.
The entire country has been a victim of a hate crime lately. I don't want to try to minimize the horror of the specific crime committed against Ahmed Sharif (and not just because I have particularly strong feelings about neck violence,) so I don't intend to trivialize it, at all by saying this. The crime committed against Americans is psychological. We've all been affected by this ploy, this attempt to divide us and to manipulate us. This blatant stoking of fear and hate and violence. I don't know who to blame and I don't want to blame any one. Unlike the crime against Mr. Sharif, this crime has no recourse in a court of law. I just want it to stop. I want some one with a loud enough voice (or a big enough podium, or enough cameras in their press room) to stand up and say that attacking Americans like this is not acceptable. That we will not abide the lies and the violence caused by those lies, or let them be called by any other name.
I believe that this is a moment that will live on in our history as a test of the values we aspire to- the named by our founders as the purpose of the American endeavor. This is a moment in which, more than ever, we need Presidential leadership. Even if you can't make it all right by saying the right thing, the right thing needs to be said; this is America, damn it. Either we stand for what we've always claimed to stand for or we don't. This decision has to be made by every one of us, we have to commit to it and live by it and call out those who would turn us against it. Or there will be more incidents like this stabbing. There will be more innocent blood spilt by the disturbed, misguided and easily manipulated. I do not believe that the people seeking to spread this controversy for political gain intended to cause violence, but I also don't think they will ever be forced to answer for it in the same way that Imam Rauf and those of his faith are forced to answer for every crime committed in the name of Islam. It isn't about naming a villain or calling out those who have had an emotional reaction to this issue. It isn't about calling them racists or seeking to divide us further. This isn't a partisan issue and you should not have to tread so lightly around it. Jon Stewart and Keith Olbermann should not be the most eloquent or the most courageous voices of reason in this debate, sir- you should. The right words from a President can unite the divided and calm the outraged. Tonight, as I hope that Mr. Sharif heals quickly and completely, I will hope also that you find those words and help the country to do the same.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Day 236- An Experiment (part 2)
Dear Mr. President,
Today I spent 5 hours standing on the corner of 4th and Pine in downtown, with a sign encouraging people to support Park 51. I had fun. I met a number of interesting people. I heard more 9/11 conspiracy theories than I previously knew existed. One woman suggested I breathe in Christ and stop worshipping Satan. A couple of people got angry enough to curse me out for what my sign said. Part of my message was for you; it said "Dear Mr. President, don't back down!" This got some surprising responses. One woman told me she was happy to see that I still had faith in you. One man said he didn't think you had the strength to stand up to the right. Mostly people just smiled and said "thank you."
I'm not sure that I changed any minds. The ones who wanted to argue usually didn't stop to talk things over. A few people weren't aware of the controversy and listened to me patiently. But I think it would be disingenuous to say that I was out there for them. What made the day great were all of the people who already agreed with me. As strangers, we keep our politics secret, we rarely recognize these important beliefs and values in others. Having it out in public for any one to see means that for 5 hours today I, and those people who saw their own views in what I was saying, felt connected. Even in a country controlled by Democrats, liberals don't always feel like we're part of a larger group. The taking heads on TV, the values proclaimed by many politicians, even the constraints of polite conversation often make it seem like we're the outsiders. I finally get the purpose of these demonstrations- it isn't to change minds, it's to let our allies know that they do not stand alone.
Besides dramatically increasing my chances of getting skin cancer, I don't think I did any one any harm. If I made any one's day just a little bit better, that's great, but I'm certainly convinced this did a world of good for me. I wasn't hiding behind my computer screen, I wasn't shying away from the ones who got angry or from their arguments. I felt confident in what I believe and what I was standing for. Several people suggested that I needed to be part of a group or organization, but I think that I work best when I don't have to worry about representing any one but myself.
Anyway, Mr. President, the only thing I can offer you today is the same boost I got from every shy smile, every thumbs up and high five, every thank you and every stranger who said keep it up, sister. That small promise that however hard the work has become, you don't do it alone, and you don't do it in vain.
So thank you, Mr. President. Keep up the good work. I think that you're brave, and I'm glad that you're doing so much for this country. It makes me hopeful. I don't always agree with you, but I hope you know you're not alone.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
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Today I spent 5 hours standing on the corner of 4th and Pine in downtown, with a sign encouraging people to support Park 51. I had fun. I met a number of interesting people. I heard more 9/11 conspiracy theories than I previously knew existed. One woman suggested I breathe in Christ and stop worshipping Satan. A couple of people got angry enough to curse me out for what my sign said. Part of my message was for you; it said "Dear Mr. President, don't back down!" This got some surprising responses. One woman told me she was happy to see that I still had faith in you. One man said he didn't think you had the strength to stand up to the right. Mostly people just smiled and said "thank you."
I'm not sure that I changed any minds. The ones who wanted to argue usually didn't stop to talk things over. A few people weren't aware of the controversy and listened to me patiently. But I think it would be disingenuous to say that I was out there for them. What made the day great were all of the people who already agreed with me. As strangers, we keep our politics secret, we rarely recognize these important beliefs and values in others. Having it out in public for any one to see means that for 5 hours today I, and those people who saw their own views in what I was saying, felt connected. Even in a country controlled by Democrats, liberals don't always feel like we're part of a larger group. The taking heads on TV, the values proclaimed by many politicians, even the constraints of polite conversation often make it seem like we're the outsiders. I finally get the purpose of these demonstrations- it isn't to change minds, it's to let our allies know that they do not stand alone.
Besides dramatically increasing my chances of getting skin cancer, I don't think I did any one any harm. If I made any one's day just a little bit better, that's great, but I'm certainly convinced this did a world of good for me. I wasn't hiding behind my computer screen, I wasn't shying away from the ones who got angry or from their arguments. I felt confident in what I believe and what I was standing for. Several people suggested that I needed to be part of a group or organization, but I think that I work best when I don't have to worry about representing any one but myself.
Anyway, Mr. President, the only thing I can offer you today is the same boost I got from every shy smile, every thumbs up and high five, every thank you and every stranger who said keep it up, sister. That small promise that however hard the work has become, you don't do it alone, and you don't do it in vain.
So thank you, Mr. President. Keep up the good work. I think that you're brave, and I'm glad that you're doing so much for this country. It makes me hopeful. I don't always agree with you, but I hope you know you're not alone.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
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Sunday, August 22, 2010
Day 234- An experiment
Hey Seattlites-if you want to see me on Tuesday (8/24) I'm planning on being at Westlake park from whenever I wake up until about 3pm. Come say hi. Don't be surprised if I'm sunburnt and cranky.
Dear Mr. President,
Feeling strongly about an issue or cause will often prompt me to talk or to write about it. I'll sign petitions, write letters to the editor, or (as you've probably noticed) contact elected officials. This is usually the extent of my political activism. When I worked downtown, I often noticed the park across the street from my bookstore full of protestors. They demonstrated in support of, or in opposition to health care, immigration rights, marriage equality for gay and lesbian couples, the Israeli occupation of Palestine, War, the WTO, police brutality, and the economic practices of the federal government or the state of Washington. A few just wanted to let people know that the end times are near and that we should probably repent all of our sins. On one notable occasion, people gathered to show their support for Conan O'Brien. Anyway, I almost always ignored or rolled my eyes at these groups, even the ones I agree with. It just seemed so silly to stand outside all day with little hope of accomplishing anything tangible.
Lately I've been questioning my own lack of tangible accomplishments, feeling like maybe I hide behind my computer screen too much. Sure, I'm brave when it comes to typing really, really angrily, but am I willing to stand up, to show my face, and to physically demonstrate my support for an issue? I honestly don't know. To that end, I'm going to attempt an experiment. In two days, the demonstrators downtown will be getting some company. Tomorrow I'll be making a sign, and maybe some fliers to hand out in explanation of what I'm doing, and Tuesday I'll be out on the street to show my support for Park 51. I've picked this issue in response to the widespread demonstrations against Park 51 and mosques across the country, and because of the disturbing opinion polls that indicate many Americans are actually being persuaded by the right's manipulative rhetoric against Park 51 and its supporters. Religious freedom is an essential American value and I think that even non-New Yorkers need to demonstrate our support for the rights of this organization, if only to counteract the shrill and hateful words of the other side. People in this country and around the world need to know that Americans stand for religious freedom for every one.
Maybe I won't change any minds. Maybe I'll leave Tuesday feeling like I was right about all those other protestors and the futility of their methods. I think I at least need to experience it for myself before I judge others, before I feel confident claiming that my own relatively anonymous attempts at contributing to the political discourse are good enough. If I can't stand up and look people in the eye while I express my beliefs, I probably need to consider how courageous my convictions really are. I know I'm constantly harping on you to have more political courage, to be honest and say things that people don't want to hear; consider this my attempt to practice just a little of what I've been preaching.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Dear Mr. President,
Feeling strongly about an issue or cause will often prompt me to talk or to write about it. I'll sign petitions, write letters to the editor, or (as you've probably noticed) contact elected officials. This is usually the extent of my political activism. When I worked downtown, I often noticed the park across the street from my bookstore full of protestors. They demonstrated in support of, or in opposition to health care, immigration rights, marriage equality for gay and lesbian couples, the Israeli occupation of Palestine, War, the WTO, police brutality, and the economic practices of the federal government or the state of Washington. A few just wanted to let people know that the end times are near and that we should probably repent all of our sins. On one notable occasion, people gathered to show their support for Conan O'Brien. Anyway, I almost always ignored or rolled my eyes at these groups, even the ones I agree with. It just seemed so silly to stand outside all day with little hope of accomplishing anything tangible.
Lately I've been questioning my own lack of tangible accomplishments, feeling like maybe I hide behind my computer screen too much. Sure, I'm brave when it comes to typing really, really angrily, but am I willing to stand up, to show my face, and to physically demonstrate my support for an issue? I honestly don't know. To that end, I'm going to attempt an experiment. In two days, the demonstrators downtown will be getting some company. Tomorrow I'll be making a sign, and maybe some fliers to hand out in explanation of what I'm doing, and Tuesday I'll be out on the street to show my support for Park 51. I've picked this issue in response to the widespread demonstrations against Park 51 and mosques across the country, and because of the disturbing opinion polls that indicate many Americans are actually being persuaded by the right's manipulative rhetoric against Park 51 and its supporters. Religious freedom is an essential American value and I think that even non-New Yorkers need to demonstrate our support for the rights of this organization, if only to counteract the shrill and hateful words of the other side. People in this country and around the world need to know that Americans stand for religious freedom for every one.
Maybe I won't change any minds. Maybe I'll leave Tuesday feeling like I was right about all those other protestors and the futility of their methods. I think I at least need to experience it for myself before I judge others, before I feel confident claiming that my own relatively anonymous attempts at contributing to the political discourse are good enough. If I can't stand up and look people in the eye while I express my beliefs, I probably need to consider how courageous my convictions really are. I know I'm constantly harping on you to have more political courage, to be honest and say things that people don't want to hear; consider this my attempt to practice just a little of what I've been preaching.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Friday, August 13, 2010
Day 225- Iftar
“This is America, and our commitment to religious freedom must be unshakable. The principle that people of all faiths are welcome in this country, and will not be treated differently by their government, is essential to who we are.”
-President Barack Obama 08/13/2010
Dear Mr. President,
Tonight at the White House's Iftar dinner you gave emphatic support for the construction of the Islamic community center near ground zero. All week, I've felt like my letters to you have been angry, antagonistic. Today I wanted to find something positive to write about, and I'm really pleased that I didn't have to look too far to find it. Your remarks are sure to upset some Americans, sure to be controversial, but it was the right thing to do. I hope that you continue to put your values ahead of being politically cautious. As frustrated as I often am with you and with your administration, nights like tonight remind me why I am so proud to call you my President, and why I am so proud to be an American. I want to feel this way about my country more often. I want to believe in your administration and the work you're doing.
I'm also glad that you hosted an Iftar dinner, once again. I had my own Iftar dinner on the 49 bus after work tonight, counting down the moments till the sun sets so that I could drink water and eat a few dates. I've forgotten the simple pleasure of breaking the fast at night, the calm feeling it gives me, and the way my doubts about surviving this month just wash away. The night was cool and beautiful, and all of the stress of my day seemed irrelevant. On my way home I stopped at a cupcake shop, and the girl behind the counter gave me a free Iftar cupcake. I'm still overwhelmed by the support I get from my friends and family and even complete strangers. Seeing the White House hold its own Iftar, and hearing your words in support of religious freedom, I hope, will be a step toward healing the pain and alienation many Muslims in this country suffer every day.
I'm really happy to be writing about something other than complaints tonight. Thank you, Mr. President, and Ramadan Kareem.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
-President Barack Obama 08/13/2010
Dear Mr. President,
Tonight at the White House's Iftar dinner you gave emphatic support for the construction of the Islamic community center near ground zero. All week, I've felt like my letters to you have been angry, antagonistic. Today I wanted to find something positive to write about, and I'm really pleased that I didn't have to look too far to find it. Your remarks are sure to upset some Americans, sure to be controversial, but it was the right thing to do. I hope that you continue to put your values ahead of being politically cautious. As frustrated as I often am with you and with your administration, nights like tonight remind me why I am so proud to call you my President, and why I am so proud to be an American. I want to feel this way about my country more often. I want to believe in your administration and the work you're doing.
I'm also glad that you hosted an Iftar dinner, once again. I had my own Iftar dinner on the 49 bus after work tonight, counting down the moments till the sun sets so that I could drink water and eat a few dates. I've forgotten the simple pleasure of breaking the fast at night, the calm feeling it gives me, and the way my doubts about surviving this month just wash away. The night was cool and beautiful, and all of the stress of my day seemed irrelevant. On my way home I stopped at a cupcake shop, and the girl behind the counter gave me a free Iftar cupcake. I'm still overwhelmed by the support I get from my friends and family and even complete strangers. Seeing the White House hold its own Iftar, and hearing your words in support of religious freedom, I hope, will be a step toward healing the pain and alienation many Muslims in this country suffer every day.
I'm really happy to be writing about something other than complaints tonight. Thank you, Mr. President, and Ramadan Kareem.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Day 222- Why I'm fasting for Ramadan
Dear Mr. President,
For Muslims living in America, Ramadan begins tonight at sunset. I've observed the month-long fast before, but it has been several years. I've decided to do so again this year for a number of reasons, but chief among them is my desire to demonstrate solidarity with Muslims. While I doubt very much that it has ever been an entirely comfortable thing to be an American Muslim, especially since the post-9/11 increase in Islamophobia, the level of antipathy toward Muslims in America seems to be on the rise this year. From opposition to the Cordoba House community center, to anti-Mosque demonstrations across the country, displaying bigotry toward our Muslim neighbors has become disturbingly acceptable. The Tea-Party has called upon its members to demonstrate against mosques being built in their areas, urging them to bring dogs, bibles and the American flag as symbols of their opposition. In Florida, on Septmeber 11th, one minister is proposing to burn Qurans.
That this is happening in my own country makes me sick. When it is considered along with European countries proposing laws to ban Burkas in public areas, the continued siege of Gaza, the destruction of Palestinian homes in the West Bank, and the continued slaughter of civilians by coalition forces and the Taliban alike in Afghanistan, it is clear to me that many Muslims around the world are suffering because of their faith. I don't think it will fix anything to fast along side them for a month. My symbolic gesture of solidarity is meant to say that I will not look the other way while fellow human beings are maligned and persecuted for their faith. And it may not do any good, but in my general state of powerlessness, it feels better than doing nothing.
So today I've visited my favorite bakery, deli, coffee shop and grocery store, all in preparation for the fast. It will be a challenge, but I figure if Minnesota Vikings Safety Husain Abdullah can do it and still play professional football, I can probably manage just fine.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
For Muslims living in America, Ramadan begins tonight at sunset. I've observed the month-long fast before, but it has been several years. I've decided to do so again this year for a number of reasons, but chief among them is my desire to demonstrate solidarity with Muslims. While I doubt very much that it has ever been an entirely comfortable thing to be an American Muslim, especially since the post-9/11 increase in Islamophobia, the level of antipathy toward Muslims in America seems to be on the rise this year. From opposition to the Cordoba House community center, to anti-Mosque demonstrations across the country, displaying bigotry toward our Muslim neighbors has become disturbingly acceptable. The Tea-Party has called upon its members to demonstrate against mosques being built in their areas, urging them to bring dogs, bibles and the American flag as symbols of their opposition. In Florida, on Septmeber 11th, one minister is proposing to burn Qurans.
That this is happening in my own country makes me sick. When it is considered along with European countries proposing laws to ban Burkas in public areas, the continued siege of Gaza, the destruction of Palestinian homes in the West Bank, and the continued slaughter of civilians by coalition forces and the Taliban alike in Afghanistan, it is clear to me that many Muslims around the world are suffering because of their faith. I don't think it will fix anything to fast along side them for a month. My symbolic gesture of solidarity is meant to say that I will not look the other way while fellow human beings are maligned and persecuted for their faith. And it may not do any good, but in my general state of powerlessness, it feels better than doing nothing.
So today I've visited my favorite bakery, deli, coffee shop and grocery store, all in preparation for the fast. It will be a challenge, but I figure if Minnesota Vikings Safety Husain Abdullah can do it and still play professional football, I can probably manage just fine.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Day 215- Birthright
“We all feel and understand the hearts of children, but on the other hand, there are Zionist considerations and ensuring the Jewish character of the state of Israel. The problem is that these two components clash.” Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu
Dear Mr. President,
I agree with Lou Dobbs. That's actually too weird for me to feel comfortable saying out loud, so let me say instead, Lou Dobbs agrees with me about the growing number of GOP senators who want to repeal the 14th amendement, in that we both think they're ridiculous. It reminded me of an article I'd read recently about the Israeli decision to deport 400 children born in Israel to foreign laborers. While the decision made could have been much worse, the idea that it was done, as PM Netanyahu stated, to ensure "the Jewish character of the state of Israel" did not sit well with me. In general, I'm opposed to systems of government where a person's religion determines their rights. The idea that several of my friends born in America have a birthright to Israeli citizenship that these children (not to mention the millions of Palestinians forced out in 1948 and 1967) born in Israel do not have, it just doesn't seem right. It's not a debate I'm likely to win, and I do understand the need for Jews to have a protected place and the means to defend themselves against another holocaust. I just don't think that denying the rights of non-Jews born in Israel is an acceptable cost.
I wonder, what character of our nation would we be trying to preserve in repealing 14th amendment rights? Our white, English-speaking character? Or, perhaps, the illusion that white Americans who took this land from the native people have a superior right to its resources than the descendants of non-white populations that have lived on this continent for generations before Europeans knew its name? I, for one, do not think that character, or that illusion, is worth protecting at all, but especially not if it means devaluing our constitution. I think that the rights guaranteed in our constitution, the spirit of freedom and equality enshrined in its words, that lofty and yet to be perfected ideal is the only character we ought to fight to ensure. Denying these basic values to persecute immigrants and minorities for the sake of keeping our white, English-speaking, Christian majority is simply not what this country stands for.
And I'm glad to know that Lou Dobbs agrees with me.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Dear Mr. President,
I agree with Lou Dobbs. That's actually too weird for me to feel comfortable saying out loud, so let me say instead, Lou Dobbs agrees with me about the growing number of GOP senators who want to repeal the 14th amendement, in that we both think they're ridiculous. It reminded me of an article I'd read recently about the Israeli decision to deport 400 children born in Israel to foreign laborers. While the decision made could have been much worse, the idea that it was done, as PM Netanyahu stated, to ensure "the Jewish character of the state of Israel" did not sit well with me. In general, I'm opposed to systems of government where a person's religion determines their rights. The idea that several of my friends born in America have a birthright to Israeli citizenship that these children (not to mention the millions of Palestinians forced out in 1948 and 1967) born in Israel do not have, it just doesn't seem right. It's not a debate I'm likely to win, and I do understand the need for Jews to have a protected place and the means to defend themselves against another holocaust. I just don't think that denying the rights of non-Jews born in Israel is an acceptable cost.
I wonder, what character of our nation would we be trying to preserve in repealing 14th amendment rights? Our white, English-speaking character? Or, perhaps, the illusion that white Americans who took this land from the native people have a superior right to its resources than the descendants of non-white populations that have lived on this continent for generations before Europeans knew its name? I, for one, do not think that character, or that illusion, is worth protecting at all, but especially not if it means devaluing our constitution. I think that the rights guaranteed in our constitution, the spirit of freedom and equality enshrined in its words, that lofty and yet to be perfected ideal is the only character we ought to fight to ensure. Denying these basic values to persecute immigrants and minorities for the sake of keeping our white, English-speaking, Christian majority is simply not what this country stands for.
And I'm glad to know that Lou Dobbs agrees with me.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Day 212- Lies, Damn lies, and statistics
Dear Mr. President,
As long as I'm on a role with the political cliches, I might as well concede that all politics is local. The decision to build an Islamic community center in New York is and should be a local one. Initially I supported the White House's decision not to comment, but once it became a rallying cry for every Tea Party mouthpiece from Sarah Palin to Newt Gingrich. It seemed as though maybe the White House ought to weigh in. But the recent denouncement of the decision by the Anti-Defamation League, (which, unbelievably, seems to think religious freedom ought to be contingent upon no one being irrationally upset by it,) compels me to change my mind.
Nate Silver has provided some excellent analysis on how the polling and media coverage have mislead the public, not only abou the nature of this project, but about it's relative proximity to ground zero, based largely on the lies of those who oppose it. Mr. Silver suggests, and I agree with his conclusions, that the polling data might not be an accurate reflection of public opinion, as it is based on questions constructed with vague or false information. I think it is clear that many of the people claiming to be opposed to the construction of the community center (besides not being New Yorkers,) have been misinformed. Republicans across the country are using this as a campaign issue to excite their base and sway those who haven't been given all of the facts. It's both politically expedient and morally imperative that you make a stand in support of the community center.
For starters, you're probably already aware that it's being linked to you, regardless of your lack of an official position. I'm guessing that an official speech declaring your support for religious freedom wouldn't alienate any one planning to vote Democrat in the fall, and might even win back some of the independents swayed by this nonsense, in clearing up the facts. But, even beyond the political gain, as our nation's leader, I feel like you have a responsibility to defend our values, and to remind us all when we've let fear and partisanship come before our basic humanity. Religious freedom is an American value, and anyone should have the right to build a church, synagogue, mosque, temple or even a satanic shrine anywhere. We don't have Islam-free zones, and most every rational, informed American recognizes this as important to the religious freedom of all Americans.
There was a moment in your Presidential campaign when a surprisingly frank and honest speech about race turned things around for you. But it was more than a turning point for your campaign; that speech healed a small part of a much larger wound on the psyche of our nation. It brought people together and reminded them that the challenges we face are only made more difficult by fear. These attempts at dividing us, once again, are coming at a time when we need unity more than ever. I believe that what this issue needs, more than anything is the wisdom and leadership that we expect from our President during times of fear and uncertainty. People need to know that all of America will always be safe for them, regardless of their faith. People need to know that they are being lied to and manipulated by those who would gain power from their fear. People need to know that Muslims in America have the full rights and protections of the US constitution, and the support of their president. No comment is no longer good enough, Mr. President; right or wrong, this has become a national issue, and it demands your leadership.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
PS
Is it not more than a little hypocritical for Republicans to reject a bill that would move aid to injured 9/11 workers while simultaneously invoking their sacrifice to oppose religious freedom for Muslims?
Update: Nate Silver (probably my one true love) just posted an addition to his earlier post.
As long as I'm on a role with the political cliches, I might as well concede that all politics is local. The decision to build an Islamic community center in New York is and should be a local one. Initially I supported the White House's decision not to comment, but once it became a rallying cry for every Tea Party mouthpiece from Sarah Palin to Newt Gingrich. It seemed as though maybe the White House ought to weigh in. But the recent denouncement of the decision by the Anti-Defamation League, (which, unbelievably, seems to think religious freedom ought to be contingent upon no one being irrationally upset by it,) compels me to change my mind.
Nate Silver has provided some excellent analysis on how the polling and media coverage have mislead the public, not only abou the nature of this project, but about it's relative proximity to ground zero, based largely on the lies of those who oppose it. Mr. Silver suggests, and I agree with his conclusions, that the polling data might not be an accurate reflection of public opinion, as it is based on questions constructed with vague or false information. I think it is clear that many of the people claiming to be opposed to the construction of the community center (besides not being New Yorkers,) have been misinformed. Republicans across the country are using this as a campaign issue to excite their base and sway those who haven't been given all of the facts. It's both politically expedient and morally imperative that you make a stand in support of the community center.
For starters, you're probably already aware that it's being linked to you, regardless of your lack of an official position. I'm guessing that an official speech declaring your support for religious freedom wouldn't alienate any one planning to vote Democrat in the fall, and might even win back some of the independents swayed by this nonsense, in clearing up the facts. But, even beyond the political gain, as our nation's leader, I feel like you have a responsibility to defend our values, and to remind us all when we've let fear and partisanship come before our basic humanity. Religious freedom is an American value, and anyone should have the right to build a church, synagogue, mosque, temple or even a satanic shrine anywhere. We don't have Islam-free zones, and most every rational, informed American recognizes this as important to the religious freedom of all Americans.
There was a moment in your Presidential campaign when a surprisingly frank and honest speech about race turned things around for you. But it was more than a turning point for your campaign; that speech healed a small part of a much larger wound on the psyche of our nation. It brought people together and reminded them that the challenges we face are only made more difficult by fear. These attempts at dividing us, once again, are coming at a time when we need unity more than ever. I believe that what this issue needs, more than anything is the wisdom and leadership that we expect from our President during times of fear and uncertainty. People need to know that all of America will always be safe for them, regardless of their faith. People need to know that they are being lied to and manipulated by those who would gain power from their fear. People need to know that Muslims in America have the full rights and protections of the US constitution, and the support of their president. No comment is no longer good enough, Mr. President; right or wrong, this has become a national issue, and it demands your leadership.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
PS
Is it not more than a little hypocritical for Republicans to reject a bill that would move aid to injured 9/11 workers while simultaneously invoking their sacrifice to oppose religious freedom for Muslims?
Update: Nate Silver (probably my one true love) just posted an addition to his earlier post.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Day 200- Mad girl's love song
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
-Sylvia Plath
Dear Mr. President,
I want to write about policy tonight, but I just finished a book that I can't stop thinking about. I'm still walking the streets of Damascus, wandering in the desert with angels and saints and old friends from long ago. I'm also feeling like I've overstepped the boundaries of polite acquaintance, because, unlike some anonymous reader, I can put faces to some of the characters and I have heard their voices and I have heard their telling of the same story. You're an author, you probably experienced that strange freedom of telling your life's secrets to strangers. I don't know about you, but I think it isn't the same, telling it to people you know, or at least have spoken to in person. Maybe I just like to hide behind my keyboard. But still, I'm overcome by the beauty of my friend's writing, of her story, of the hope it gives me. I think it is, at least in part, because I see myself in the story, not me exactly, of course, but a part of me, the part of me that has always been afraid that I'll never feel like a normal person.
The author means a great deal to me, not only because of the kindness she showed me when we met, but because of the strange moment in my life at which I encountered her. I wasn't heartbroken, not all the way, but I was in the middle of a descent into the kind of love and grief over love that are never really distinct from one another, or from madness. I've been in this state several times before. I know all the signs. I know the feeling, that's something like finding what you've looked for all your life, only to realize it isn't at all what you wanted.
Anyway, I was just starting this vicious cycle all over again about the time I took a trip to Palestine. It was hard. It was eye-opening. I hoped it would be life-changing. While walking the path of Abraham, a prophet who I hadn't given much consideration, even during my brief forays into organized religions, I saw amazing things. Sites of power and history and faith. I met people who believed more deeply in these things than I could possibly understand. One morning, waiting for the group to get organized and explore Nablus, my cell phone rang. Up until that instant, I wasn't even sure I could get calls. It was the man I thought I was in love with. He was drunk. He needed to ask me for a phone number of another friend. I went to this place because, for my entire adult life, I'd felt drawn to it, while circumstances or bad choices seemed to prevent me from ever getting there. And, once I finally got there, my cell phone couldn't help reminding me of all of the things just waiting for me to come back. Things I knew I couldn't face as the same person I'd been when I left.
And I met the amazing woman who wrote this book, and she seemed to be, in many ways, what I wanted to be one day. Happy. Sane. Wise. An outsider who had accepted and been accepted in a new place, without losing her ties to home. The type of person I didn't think people like me were allowed to become. But most of all, she seemed to understand the conflicted nature of being an American in a place where America had done or helped to do really awful things. Of having yourself represented by a passport that got you special treatment, and the nightly news images of bombed-out buildings and dying children on TV. Of never, ever, being able to hide from your origins or to express the pride and affection you still have for your country, for all of the things it means to you that never get translated well. Of wanting to Do Good, (whatever that means,) and finding that you could never make it all right. That no one can. And I got to experience all of that all over again reading her book. It's good to be reminded that I'm not the only one who has ever felt so lost. That sometimes the fight just to figure out your own life, to keep your own sanity and to mend your own heart is more important, and harder, than we let ourselves say out loud.
When I was in Palestine, they gave me a new name. The people I met made me reconsider a number of things I'd been sure of. But my life did not change, right away. I went home and fell into the same patterns and was trapped by the oppressive sameness of my life, compounded by these dashed hopes for instant renewal and transformation. But, eventually, I got better, in no small part because I had begun to understand what I was looking for. Because I learned that change is hard. Change takes time and work and doesn't often look like the original plan. Change requires moving in utter darkness, pressing forward on uncertain ground with only faith to tell us that the path exists at all. Change does not happen all at once.
Ok, I guess this was a little bit about policy, after all.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
PS
The book I've been writing about is one I've mentioned here before; it's called The Bread of Angels and the brilliant author is Stephanie Saldaña.
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
-Sylvia Plath
Dear Mr. President,
I want to write about policy tonight, but I just finished a book that I can't stop thinking about. I'm still walking the streets of Damascus, wandering in the desert with angels and saints and old friends from long ago. I'm also feeling like I've overstepped the boundaries of polite acquaintance, because, unlike some anonymous reader, I can put faces to some of the characters and I have heard their voices and I have heard their telling of the same story. You're an author, you probably experienced that strange freedom of telling your life's secrets to strangers. I don't know about you, but I think it isn't the same, telling it to people you know, or at least have spoken to in person. Maybe I just like to hide behind my keyboard. But still, I'm overcome by the beauty of my friend's writing, of her story, of the hope it gives me. I think it is, at least in part, because I see myself in the story, not me exactly, of course, but a part of me, the part of me that has always been afraid that I'll never feel like a normal person.
The author means a great deal to me, not only because of the kindness she showed me when we met, but because of the strange moment in my life at which I encountered her. I wasn't heartbroken, not all the way, but I was in the middle of a descent into the kind of love and grief over love that are never really distinct from one another, or from madness. I've been in this state several times before. I know all the signs. I know the feeling, that's something like finding what you've looked for all your life, only to realize it isn't at all what you wanted.
Anyway, I was just starting this vicious cycle all over again about the time I took a trip to Palestine. It was hard. It was eye-opening. I hoped it would be life-changing. While walking the path of Abraham, a prophet who I hadn't given much consideration, even during my brief forays into organized religions, I saw amazing things. Sites of power and history and faith. I met people who believed more deeply in these things than I could possibly understand. One morning, waiting for the group to get organized and explore Nablus, my cell phone rang. Up until that instant, I wasn't even sure I could get calls. It was the man I thought I was in love with. He was drunk. He needed to ask me for a phone number of another friend. I went to this place because, for my entire adult life, I'd felt drawn to it, while circumstances or bad choices seemed to prevent me from ever getting there. And, once I finally got there, my cell phone couldn't help reminding me of all of the things just waiting for me to come back. Things I knew I couldn't face as the same person I'd been when I left.
And I met the amazing woman who wrote this book, and she seemed to be, in many ways, what I wanted to be one day. Happy. Sane. Wise. An outsider who had accepted and been accepted in a new place, without losing her ties to home. The type of person I didn't think people like me were allowed to become. But most of all, she seemed to understand the conflicted nature of being an American in a place where America had done or helped to do really awful things. Of having yourself represented by a passport that got you special treatment, and the nightly news images of bombed-out buildings and dying children on TV. Of never, ever, being able to hide from your origins or to express the pride and affection you still have for your country, for all of the things it means to you that never get translated well. Of wanting to Do Good, (whatever that means,) and finding that you could never make it all right. That no one can. And I got to experience all of that all over again reading her book. It's good to be reminded that I'm not the only one who has ever felt so lost. That sometimes the fight just to figure out your own life, to keep your own sanity and to mend your own heart is more important, and harder, than we let ourselves say out loud.
When I was in Palestine, they gave me a new name. The people I met made me reconsider a number of things I'd been sure of. But my life did not change, right away. I went home and fell into the same patterns and was trapped by the oppressive sameness of my life, compounded by these dashed hopes for instant renewal and transformation. But, eventually, I got better, in no small part because I had begun to understand what I was looking for. Because I learned that change is hard. Change takes time and work and doesn't often look like the original plan. Change requires moving in utter darkness, pressing forward on uncertain ground with only faith to tell us that the path exists at all. Change does not happen all at once.
Ok, I guess this was a little bit about policy, after all.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
PS
The book I've been writing about is one I've mentioned here before; it's called The Bread of Angels and the brilliant author is Stephanie Saldaña.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Day 193-One State
Dear Mr. President,
The "threat" of the one-state solution has long been tossed about in discussion of the fate of Palestine and Israel. I find myself ambivalent on the subject. In some respects I think it is a good idea; it would end the apartheid system of segregated "Arab" and "Jewish-only" neighborhoods and streets (at least in the law, though, obviously, de facto segregation would likely continue.) It would incentivize working together, learning from one another, and mutual respect, as both Palestinians and Israelis became responsible for the fate of their country. I think it might also mitigate the inequitable resource usage, especially regarding water. It would help both sides, economically and educationally. It would offer legitimacy of each in the eyes of their current enemy's allies.
On the other hand, I worry about the backlash. Ethnic and religious violence on a larger scale. I don't imagine the leaders of the Likud party (or even Labor) being too eager to share their nuclear launch codes (and other military secrets) with the leaders of Fatah, or the PFLP, or Hamas. The military would certainly have a had time adjusting, and the mandatory service for all citizens might need to be reconsidered. It would be ugly, difficult, maybe even bloody, for at least another generation. I, for one, am not confident enough in the outcome to be comfortable calling for a solution that would lead to more lives lost. But doing nothing is also a choice, and the status quo of slow partition is also ratcheting up the body count.
In an International Relations course at Boise State University, one the best professors I ever had gave us an assignment. He divided us into three teams- A, B, and the UN. We were given a map, with different symbols for resources and different concentrations of ethnic groups A and B. He said, every one divide up the map, let's see what we end up with. Needless to say, a heated and unresolved argument ensued. Had we been dividing anything besides land, I would have said, let team A divide it up, and let team B pick their half first. But land is not a heard of cows. Land has history, people's homes, holy sites, cemeteries. I never thought to suggest that we forget the partition all together, and neither did any of my classmates. Looking back, I wonder if, at least in simulation, it would have been a wise idea.
I know that your administration is publicly opposed to the one-state solution. But I'd like to know what your ideal endgame looks like. What outcome can you imagine as best? I think, no matter where you draw the borders, Israel and Palestine will have to work together, rely on one another, trust one another, to a degree that does not yet seem possible. South Africa today did not seem possible during the years of apartheid, either. And it has been a long and bloody road to a present that is yet far from ideal, but I don't think that a South Africa White and a South Africa Black would have been a better solution. What are your thoughts on the one-state solution, Mr. President? I don't believe it isn't something you've given thoughtful consideration. Have you, entirely, rejected the possibility? If so, what was your reasoning for doing so? How do you envision the region, ideally, in 10 years? In 50? What does a solution look like, to your mind?
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
The "threat" of the one-state solution has long been tossed about in discussion of the fate of Palestine and Israel. I find myself ambivalent on the subject. In some respects I think it is a good idea; it would end the apartheid system of segregated "Arab" and "Jewish-only" neighborhoods and streets (at least in the law, though, obviously, de facto segregation would likely continue.) It would incentivize working together, learning from one another, and mutual respect, as both Palestinians and Israelis became responsible for the fate of their country. I think it might also mitigate the inequitable resource usage, especially regarding water. It would help both sides, economically and educationally. It would offer legitimacy of each in the eyes of their current enemy's allies.
On the other hand, I worry about the backlash. Ethnic and religious violence on a larger scale. I don't imagine the leaders of the Likud party (or even Labor) being too eager to share their nuclear launch codes (and other military secrets) with the leaders of Fatah, or the PFLP, or Hamas. The military would certainly have a had time adjusting, and the mandatory service for all citizens might need to be reconsidered. It would be ugly, difficult, maybe even bloody, for at least another generation. I, for one, am not confident enough in the outcome to be comfortable calling for a solution that would lead to more lives lost. But doing nothing is also a choice, and the status quo of slow partition is also ratcheting up the body count.
In an International Relations course at Boise State University, one the best professors I ever had gave us an assignment. He divided us into three teams- A, B, and the UN. We were given a map, with different symbols for resources and different concentrations of ethnic groups A and B. He said, every one divide up the map, let's see what we end up with. Needless to say, a heated and unresolved argument ensued. Had we been dividing anything besides land, I would have said, let team A divide it up, and let team B pick their half first. But land is not a heard of cows. Land has history, people's homes, holy sites, cemeteries. I never thought to suggest that we forget the partition all together, and neither did any of my classmates. Looking back, I wonder if, at least in simulation, it would have been a wise idea.
I know that your administration is publicly opposed to the one-state solution. But I'd like to know what your ideal endgame looks like. What outcome can you imagine as best? I think, no matter where you draw the borders, Israel and Palestine will have to work together, rely on one another, trust one another, to a degree that does not yet seem possible. South Africa today did not seem possible during the years of apartheid, either. And it has been a long and bloody road to a present that is yet far from ideal, but I don't think that a South Africa White and a South Africa Black would have been a better solution. What are your thoughts on the one-state solution, Mr. President? I don't believe it isn't something you've given thoughtful consideration. Have you, entirely, rejected the possibility? If so, what was your reasoning for doing so? How do you envision the region, ideally, in 10 years? In 50? What does a solution look like, to your mind?
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Friday, June 11, 2010
Day 162- Is it a stomach bug, or is Chuck Schumer talking agin?
Dear Mr. President,
Senator Schumer has inspired me. Instead of just a tepid boycott of Arizona, let's close off the borders, (I'm sure we can get Mexico's cooperation on this from the South.) We can keep out all but the most essential medical supplies and some food. (No potato chips though, at least not until we get some heat from the international community.) We'll allow a few Arizonans out, if they need medical treatment, but they'll need to apply for permits and not be on any lists of registered voters. You see, I think their immigration law is indicative of a dangerous trend of radicalized, religiously-based extremism, and, as Sen. Schumer propses, we ought to "strangle" them, (economically, of course,) until the population can be made to see the error of their votes.
If it works in Arizona (and, I'll admit, the obesity rates might mean it will be years before the blockade has any real effects,) we can put this into use anywhere we see these dangerous trends; if Carly Fiorina wins a Senate seat, we should definitely do the same to California, though obviously the coastline will make it more difficult. What about Massachusetts? The people electing Scott Brown should definitely be punished for their poor decision making skills. If we don't really have the troops to keep these rogue states in check, or to effectively restrict travel in and out of them, maybe we could consider building a few more walls? After all, many Arizonans have family living in other states, and it's important that we make sure they don't become agents of their radical relatives.
I know many of your legislative proposals have been controversial, but I'm confident this would satisfy at least 98 members of the Senate (and John McCain really shouldn't count, anyway. He's never satisfied with sanctions, he'll be calling for a regime change.) It can even be spun as a jobs bill! Imagine all the employment opportunities for construction workers to build a wall around an entire state! I know, Arizonans might devise a tunnel system to smuggle Ensure in from Mexico, but we've got bombs for that, I'm sure. Knock down a few retirement centers, and once they realize no building materials will be forthcoming, they'll be scrambling to vote for whoever you tell them to.
Anyway, Mr. President, I'm sure that Senator Schumer will not be worried about the White House calling his words reprehensible, but you might want to reassure him, just in case.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Senator Schumer has inspired me. Instead of just a tepid boycott of Arizona, let's close off the borders, (I'm sure we can get Mexico's cooperation on this from the South.) We can keep out all but the most essential medical supplies and some food. (No potato chips though, at least not until we get some heat from the international community.) We'll allow a few Arizonans out, if they need medical treatment, but they'll need to apply for permits and not be on any lists of registered voters. You see, I think their immigration law is indicative of a dangerous trend of radicalized, religiously-based extremism, and, as Sen. Schumer propses, we ought to "strangle" them, (economically, of course,) until the population can be made to see the error of their votes.
If it works in Arizona (and, I'll admit, the obesity rates might mean it will be years before the blockade has any real effects,) we can put this into use anywhere we see these dangerous trends; if Carly Fiorina wins a Senate seat, we should definitely do the same to California, though obviously the coastline will make it more difficult. What about Massachusetts? The people electing Scott Brown should definitely be punished for their poor decision making skills. If we don't really have the troops to keep these rogue states in check, or to effectively restrict travel in and out of them, maybe we could consider building a few more walls? After all, many Arizonans have family living in other states, and it's important that we make sure they don't become agents of their radical relatives.
I know many of your legislative proposals have been controversial, but I'm confident this would satisfy at least 98 members of the Senate (and John McCain really shouldn't count, anyway. He's never satisfied with sanctions, he'll be calling for a regime change.) It can even be spun as a jobs bill! Imagine all the employment opportunities for construction workers to build a wall around an entire state! I know, Arizonans might devise a tunnel system to smuggle Ensure in from Mexico, but we've got bombs for that, I'm sure. Knock down a few retirement centers, and once they realize no building materials will be forthcoming, they'll be scrambling to vote for whoever you tell them to.
Anyway, Mr. President, I'm sure that Senator Schumer will not be worried about the White House calling his words reprehensible, but you might want to reassure him, just in case.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Day 146-We gave peace a chance, and this is what we got
Dear Mr. President,
In 2003 my family went to New York City for the first time. I wanted to attend NYU, and so I visited the campus. We saw a broadway show. We went shopping. Because our trip fell just before the 2nd anniversary of 9/11, we went to ground zero. I remember the silence started several blocks away. On the wall near the site of the attack, people had written messages; one message stuck with me. "We gave peace a chance," it said, "and this is what we got." At the time, a senor in a high school that didn't teach world history much past WWII, I couldn't explain, exactly, why this bothered me. Overcome by the despair in these scrawled letters, I snapped a photograph, and did not give it much further thought. What struck me, next, were the rows and rows of vendors selling Ground Zero merchandise, some blaring that awful Enya remix from stereo systems, tugging at the heat and purse strings of tourists. It did not feel like a memorial site, so much as an open wound, still raw and oozing, still ambivalent as to what kind of scar it would become.
Now, years later, the debate over the sacred nature of this place has taken an ugly turn. An Islamic community center, proposed too close to the site, for some, has sparked objections based solely in hatred and ignorance. I don't know what Ground Zero is; shrine or grave or tourist trap, it is only one thing that every one can agree upon, and that is American. Our values have a place here, as anywhere, and those values would not allow us to keep Muslims out because of their religion. Mr. President, I think you should speak out about this. I think you should show that Americans stand with our Muslim communities, that we do not think there are any places in this country where one particular religion is not welcome. Whether or not we had before 9/11, we cannot, now, make the mistake of dividing our country along religious lines. American Muslims are just as American and American Christians, or Americans of any religion. Welcoming them into communities, encouraging them to participate in the stewardship of their communities, and even to bear witness to the healing of the great trauma that they, as Americans and as New Yorkers, undoubtedly shared, will only help us move forward a stronger nation.
Were we, in fact, punished for giving peace a chance? I'm not going to comment on what actions or inactions may have contributed to 9/11. In my opinion, whatever legitimate grievances the attackers may have had with our country became irrelevant the moment the hijacked those planes. Whatever reasonable points of criticism they might have made were silenced forever in the roar of engines and impacts and fire. I do think that if we allow these acts to change us into something unrecognizable, to a place where some religions are simply not accepted, than we surrender far more than they ever could have taken from us by force.
Respectfully yours,
Kelsey
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