"Wait!"

 I was talking to a friend of mine tonight and the issue of LGBT rights came up in regards to the Episcopal Church and the approval of Same-Sex Blessings. There are dioceses such as Mississippi (where I grew up) and Alabama (where I live now) that will not allow for the liturgy approved by the national church to happen. This creates second-class Episcopalians. I am an Episcopalian who can participate in all but two sacraments in the Diocese of Mississippi: marriage and ordainment into holy orders. If I were heterosexual, these sacraments would be open to me to participate in.

This post is not going to be one where I talk about the injustice of the oppression of these rights. Yes, they are unjust. This post is to ask the question of those LGBT allies and progressives who say things will come in time, that we just have to wait for the waters to warm up to this inclusion.

The question I have to those who say 'wait' is: what makes 'wait' different than 'no'?

My academic career has been centered around race and civil rights. Studying that progression and movement definitely has some lessons for the fight for LGBT rights in this country and around the world. What came to mind specifically tonight is an excerpt from Martin Luther King Jr.'s Letter from the Birmingham City Jail....

 We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed. Frankly, I have yet to engage in a direct action campaign that was "well timed" in the view of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word "Wait!" It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing familiarity. This "Wait" has almost always meant "Never." We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that "justice too long delayed is justice denied."


At the time of the Civil Rights Movement, the payoff of 'waiting' was that you could politically keep votes. States and citizens can support a politician who is either deliberately not taking a stance or saying the time isn't right. Stop waiting? You would lose votes. So what many politicians did was to tell King and other leaders "slow down," "wait," "these things take time." As long as they said that, they didn't have to act and thus lose votes.


This issue in the church isn't that much different. Bishops and dioceses and priests are saying "wait" and "these things take time" and "it's complicated." Are votes at stake here? No. What's at stake for dioceses and churches is very clear: people and money. Take a stance? Lose congregations and their donations. Stay on the fence and insist that you're "working things out"? People and their checks will stick around.


Now don't get me confused. When I say the dioceses and churches will lose money, I'm not talking about it the same as when Wal-Mart or Patagonia loses money. When a church or a diocese loses money and congregants, they lose the abilities to support outreach and offer support to their own churches. This, I will admit, is a good thing to fight for.


This, however, does not change the message sent to the LGBT community. "Wait" = "No."

The Civil Rights Movement, had it 'waited' would STILL not see progress today. EVEN with the measures and laws to protect African-Americans, there isn't full support. Bigotry still exists out there, racism still exists.

I've heard it said that in order to address the rights of the LGBT community, we first have to be all on board about racial rights. That "wait" is a resounding and loud "never." If we wait for everyone to 'be ok' with social change and justice, then we will wait until the world ends.


So forgive me if you tell me that you're boycotting Chick-fil-a and then in the next sentence tell me it's just not the right time for LGBT rights and I take it as an insult.

We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that "justice too long delayed is justice denied."

A fresh new start

Anyone who has been following me for the past two years through facebook or here on my blog knows that the years 2010- beginning 2012 were not my favorite years of life.. by a long shot. Going from the disappointment of coming back from California, almost a year of unemployment and then being faced with the most challenging/horrendous job I've ever had (I don't see how ANYone can voluntarily decide to be around 7th graders)... it's been a rough ride. That's not to say that nothing good happened during that time. I was able to regroup with the people who love me giving me support, I had a great time leading the Gulf Coast EYC, I loved my home parish of St. Peter's By the Sea.... there definitely were bright spots. I did for a long time feel that I had no direction, though... that I was just merely passing time before something big came along. That something DID come along.

So here I am, in Tuscaloosa, in my very own apartment, waiting on the rest of my 36 books for two classes to come in so I can begin a doctorate program in history at The University of Alabama. I'm excited and for a good bit since I accepted the offer, I had no worries or nervousness. That's changed. The gravity of what I'm starting has hit. Whatever I write, whatever I manage to get published, in these five or six years (the longest I'll have lived in one place since my sophomore year in high school), will directly determine where I'll find a job. That's not to say I'm going to be "no-fun-pants Montgomery.." but I'm not going to repeat the approach of Sewanee.

BUT, the whole point of this blog post, besides airing my nervousness, is to simply put into words the awe that I have for this next phase of life. I'm going back to school and when I emerge, I will be Dr. Blount Montgomery and that still amazes me. I have the opportunity to really take the changes I need in my life to live better.... I can take my health more seriously, I will HAVE to take my finances more seriously. I can strive to be a better person and make great friends and put my name out there in a positive manner. I can move beyond the reruns of feeling inadequate (this feeling brought to you by teaching 7th graders for a year) and really step up my game. I've been given a fresh start and I will take full advantage of it.

I'd also like to take this time to thank y'all. If you're reading this, it's likely that you've encouraged me, let me vent to you, took me out for drinks, let me cry or just remind me that you're there for me for the past few years and I thank every single one of you. Some of you reading this might be people I met on the West Coast. Despite the circumstances of my leaving, I value my time there and all I learned in those months.


It's not too often that we're faced with an opportunity to start over in a dramatic way, but when we are faced with that opportunity, it should not be a time to shrug through, or coast on auto-pilot. It is time to step up, to speak out, and to make sure it all counts to someone, if only yourself....

'Oreos', 'Dear White People', Stereotypes, and much, much more

A friend posted this article about a film trying to get funding based on the concept of Black identity by tweets under the title 'Dear White People.' Again and again the author makes the designation that the film is under 'satire.' Because I don't want to comment on whether or not this 'satire' is truly up to snuff, I checked the world's most reliable source (Wikipedia) to refresh my definition of satire:

In satire, vices, follies, abuses, and shortcomings are held up to ridicule, ideally with the intent of shaming individuals, and society itself, into improvement.^[1] Although satire is usually meant to be funny, its greater purpose is often constructive social criticism, using wit as a weapon.

The trailer, found here, sums up the overall arch of the argument: Black culture in America is stereotyped and white people are the culprits and they deserve to be the victim of satire (see definition mentioning the intent to shame individuals) to prove a point.

Ok.

The article overall has some good key points, namely that mass culture responds to people based on 'personalities in a box' given to people because of race. I can only assume the author excluded gender, sexual orientation, religion, and citizen status because that would take much much longer to address. The problem of singular-minded representation in the media is not just a Black problem, it's gay, hispanic, those with mental illnesses, women, and other minorities as well. I hope the author does not assume that these other minorities and designations do not face as much abuse as the Black community does.

This quote from the article, in my opinion, does not mesh with the trailer:

The truth is, my film really isn't about "white racism" or racism at all. As I see it racism is systemic and is inherently reflected in any honest story about life as a minority in this country. What my film is about however is identity. It's about the difference between how the mass culture responds to a person because of their race and who they understand themselves to truly be.


The trailer, I'm going to admit, was hard to watch. Being lumped in the group targeted for this 'satire' was offensive to me. What I fear this film (and others like it) does to our society is polarize it further along the issues of race. As a white person, I view this trailer and see how it promotes white people as stupid, racist, inconsiderate, and forever wishing to stifle and put down the advancements and developments of Black culture. I am immediately offended and, if I weren't as sensitive and educated about the issues of race and consider myself NOT a racist, I could have a knee-jerk reaction that this is just reverse-racism. One only has to look at the comments on the YouTube page to see the reverse-racism comments (and oh, they abound). I am afraid that the majority of the white community might have that knee-jerk reaction. I can only assume (and forgive me for assuming), that someone in the Black community might watch this and say, "yeah, I hate it when white people do that." Fair enough. The truth is, in this satire (at least from what I could tell in the trailer), white people are made into a singular mindset. Is this not the very thing that the film wants to speak out against?

 The film's trailer has one quote that I feel responds with the above quote. It's in minute 2:00 when a character says that there isn't just one way to being black. This quote, however, comes a minute after (see 0:57) when a younger Black student is essentially told he knows nothing about Black culture. One can only assume that this means the student is regarded as acting 'white.' I've seen this kind of comment in the classroom this past year. When a student has correct grammar and does not seek to disrupt the classroom and asks questions, (and this has happened right before my eyes) he or she is called out for 'acting white.' More specifically the student is called an 'oreo' (black on the outside, white on the inside). One day in class I took nearly half of the time to address this, standing on my soapbox and asserting that one does not 'act' a race, one acts like themselves and the traits given by societal stereotypes only limit an individual. Furthermore, by assuming that good grammar, participation in class and good behavior is 'white,' sells short the abilities and expectations for success for Black students and other racial minorities.

I can only hope that the moment in 0:57 was intended to draw light to the 'oreo' commentary to make it false. I fear it is not.

To look into matters further, I subscribed to the @DearWhitePeople twitter account. Did I find comments that said things white people did to stereotype Black people? No. I found tweets that essentially made fun of white people via stereotypes lumping all white people together. And it seemed the comments should have been further specified as Dear Economically Privileged White People.

All this being said, if the intentions of the trailer (and later on, movie) were to make people think critically, this might be obtained in a small minority of viewers. If the intentions were to paint white society as unilateral simple, racist, insensitive, and oppressive people, it has succeeded. Whether or not this specific commentary will produce the results of promoting Black culture is to be determined, but it does a really good job of turning the tables to lump all white culture into one group to be hated.

Is that the price of promoting a wide range of culture? Putting down another?

Hopefully, when this film is made, I will be proven wrong.

Poetry

In my procrastination of cleaning/packing up my room in Pass Christian, I have, of course, been reading. I'm waist-deep in a biography of William Alexander Percy that my Dad gave me a couple of weeks ago. It's the kind of writing and the kind of book that I am committing my life too- an academic contextual biography. It's both about the ways Percy had to navigate the Southern world and the entire world as a lover of beauty, poetry, and other men when the South had no room for men to love any of those things. It's wonderful. I plan on re-reading Lanterns on the Levee as soon as possible now that I know some of the context for Percy's autobiography. I had no idea, however, about his sexuality and his relationships until this biography. Another thing I did not realize was that Percy was a pretty renowned poet. A lot of his poetry is quoted in the book and it is beautiful.

But that's not entirely the inspiration for this post.

Reading about Percy's poetry has roused my memory of how I used to write poetry. As far back as the 5th grade I can recall keeping a little notebook where I would write. I kept writing quite a bit on up until my senior year of high school. I was the editor of the literary magazine for my high school and the poetry there is pretty much all that survives of my creative writing thanks to Katrina wiping out documentation of my childhood. I suppose some red snapper has snacked on my journals out there in the gulf. Once I got to college, the only poetry I would write would be for my girlfriend and even at that point I had started slacking off. By the time that relationship and my degree were over, I hadn't written anything creative (besides that poetry class I took Senior year and I apologize profusely to the fellow classmates and the professor- I didn't take it seriously and wrote some pretty awful things).

I want to write again though. Poetry is something to me that is both beautiful and frustrating. With poetry I can read the same poem 100 times and feel 100 different things. Each and every word is so calculated and inspires. Reading silently can induce one feeling, but then you read it out loud to yourself (I find myself doing this and feeling silly about it, but it's very soothing) and it seems to be an entirely different poem. I've always heard that if you want to be a writer, you must first and always be a reader. Well, I read plenty, but I can count on one hand the books of poetry I own. I think I don't own more because reading a book of poetry has no closure. You might finish the poems in the book, but that doesn't mean you have absorbed even the slightest of what that book was set out to accomplish. There will never be closure with poetry. I admire that.

I think I might try writing poetry again. It's bound to be awful and it will be hard to get back into that way of thinking and feeling on a page, but I think it'll be good. Especially with grad school coming up, life can't always be about researching history and writing for conferences and classes. There has to be a creative outlet somewhere.

I promise you this though. I will not subject you to my poetry unless I have absolutely been convinced that it is good. Or at least decent. Or that it won't induce vomiting (some of the poems I vaguely remember reading would definitely do so).

Mississippi and the lateral moves for civil rights

In case some of you don't know, I am an Episcopalian in the Mississippi Diocese. There are things that are wonderful and beautiful about this diocese. For one, it is a tight knit community. No matter where I am in the state, there is a likelihood that I know someone there who is Episcopalian and would be more than willing to help me out. We look out for one another. 


There are some things, however, that concern me. Mississippi as a whole has a reputation for being reluctant and resistant to change. While Episcopalians in this state consider themselves to be exceptions to that rule, we still succumb to that stereotype. We still confuse holding onto tradition with living out the mission to step outside of our comfort zones to fulfill the mission of Christ.

The biggest example as of late is the response made by the head of the Mississippi diocese. I am reluctant to mention this, because I consider him a friend of mine. That does not, however, excuse him.

This year at the General Convention of the Episcopal Church, there will be a revolutionary bill voted on. This bill would approve of and support Same-Sex Couple Blessings of Unions. While I take issue with blessings of unions (See post New York: Civil Unions V. Marriage) I applaud and look forward to how this will all play out. 

At the annual gathering of Mississippi Episcopalians, the bishop had an opening address that mentioned this vote. This is an excerpt from that address:

 "Having said all that, it probably will surprise some of you, when I say, I have not been willing to authorize liturgical rites of blessing as part of that support. I recognize to many that this refusal appears to give lie to my professed pastoral care and concern. That perception is a burden I have chosen to bear since I became your bishop. In lighter moments, I prefer to think of myself as a walking paradox."

Full address here: Bishop's Address 

The concerning thing is that I've always thought (and maybe I am wrong and maybe I made this up) that the thing that the Bishop was waiting on to act towards full religious rights for Lesbians and Gays was official approval from the national church. So, here, with the possibility for approval, is a statement saying that not only will he not vote for it, but will not act on it if passed. The approval will be there, no doubt. 

I imagine there were diocese taking similar stances when it came to women's ordination and the ordination of African-Americans. We're not even talking ordination here. We're talking about recognizing, blessing, and celebrating loving, committed relationships. We will be found to be on the wrong side of history, again. 

This grieves me and I continue to pray for the hearts to turn towards the movement of the Holy Spirit. 

Please do not interpret this post to undermine and lash out at our diocese or the Bishop. I respect and love this diocese and our Bishop. I think that makes this hurt even more. 

I hope and pray for the best. I guess it just might take longer than I expected.

 
 

Life in a montage

Just recently a friend of mine and I were talking about how life should be documented in montages. This revelation came up because we discussed how we rarely remember the good things in a year because the challenges and the hardships and the suckiness usually takes most of the room.

Think about it. Wouldn't it be nice to have a video montage (complete with appropriate soundtrack of course) of all the times you were happy and had fun and enjoyed yourself for each year? I guess it would be the tech-y version of a scrapbook.

But then, I kept thinking and started looking seriously at this (as I am prone to do). What kind of disservice would it be if all the challenges and bad times were glossed over for a feel-good video mixtape. I mean, sure, I'd like to forget a couple of years. I'd like to forget them for the heartbreak and frustration and stress that have accompanied them. But what kind of person would I be without them? I know it's cliche but I wouldn't be who I am today had not those sucky things happened.

I suppose this whole fascination is one of the things that draws me to historical research. Writing and studying history is always colored with this kind of debate. Much of historical writing (current scholars included) focuses on a highlight reel of events to present a solidly argued picture. Wouldn't a complete picture with the tiny nuances, even the nuances that would undermine the original argument be more fair to the reader? But also, wouldn't the tiny nuances overload the mind and understanding?

We live in a society run by storytelling and when it comes down to it, history, much like the way we view our own lives, ends up being told in narrative form. A year in someone's life is not a streamline story. It's got subplots upon subplots and plots that stop mid-run and never complete. It has characters that vary from significant to people who are never to be remembered. And yet, when you see someone at a wedding or at a homecoming and they ask you how you've been, you have a narrative to tell them, your own personal highlight reel.

What's your story?

I am not Michele Pfeiffer (spelling?)

This week has been excruciating at school. My students' average on my test hovered around a 50, I discovered "fat bitch, fat bitch Montgomery" scribbled on TWO of my textbooks in class, and I feel like I've tried EVERYTHING in the book to get my students to give two shits about their education or at least to sit down and listen.

I was out at dinner with a fellow teacher trying not to talk about school (and largely succeeded in doing so), but eventually got into how I have never been bad at something until now. I am used to doing well, if not rocking out everything I get myself into. School, jobs, sports, being a good person. I've never not given a shit and I've never given up. This year has been the first time in my life that I've genuinely wanted to give up and I would have quit long ago had it not been for my Mom threatening me (well not so much threatening as telling me I'm not going to quit and I know better than to cross Becky Montgomery... I love you Mom).

So why? Why am I so bad at this job?

We got to talking and the point came up that I've never not given a shit. These students don't give a shit about their education. They don't value it. They've got other priorities. I know there are students of mine who do give a shit and that is awesome and I'm glad I've got them. The majority though, don't care enough to even turn in assignments and aren't afraid of zeros in the gradebook. These students also come from difficult situations and some, if not most, do not have parents who continuously check in on progress in school.

In the conversation she mentioned that I might do fantastically well in teaching at a middle class, mostly white school. And while I feel that is partly a compliment (saying that I could do well), I don't know if the fact that it would have to be a middle class, 'white' school is comforting.

So, as much as it hurts me to say, I cannot relate to my students at all. I've never given up. I've always been ambitious. I've always been resilient about my education, even when facing the difficulty of the situation around my medical leave from Sewanee. I went back and graduated cum laude (and was so close to Magna cum laude that it still pisses me off). I have a masters. I'm going back to get a phd.

Also, I've never been in a school situation with the socioeconomic class that I teach. I went to school in Pass Christian, largely a middle class school. I was in advanced classes with students who cared. I remember only one class in which I was in the general population in class and I distinctly recall being pissed off at the students who caused disruptions in class. After Pass Christian, I went to Mississippi School for Math and Science, surrounded by over-achievers. Then Sewanee, a small private liberal arts school. Then Ole Miss. I have not been in a situation where I'm not surrounded by middle class (or above) students. Until now.

The thing that really bothers me is that I've spent the majority of my academic career studying the African-American Civil Rights Movement. My research, my reading, my understanding is about how oppressed people stood up and pulled themselves together to demand rights. I do not see hardly any of this character in my students. Partly I think it's because it's not there, but even if it is there, I do not think my life experience is that in which I could recognize it.

I. Suck. At. Teaching. This. Population.

Also, I want to be friends with them. I like a lot of my students. Some of them are hilarious and a lot of them are good kids. My relationship with kids through Camp and my youth group has been one of listening to what is going on in their lives and giving counsel and playing around with them. A teacher doesn't play around with students. A teacher controls the environment and gets them to learn. Sure, there are some times when I can bond with a student, but that's rare. 

I know there might be a couple of kids that I'm reaching and I may never know or find out that I've reached them. I can't help but think now that I'm not improving their education. I can't get the class to calm down enough to get through to improving their education.

What's worse is that I don't feel like my students are going to like history after being in my class. That gets me upset worst of all. I love history. I love the way it makes me think. I fear that I'm creating hatred for history. Although, if I remember correctly, I never liked history until my Junior year in high school when I had US history at MSMS.

I am trying something different in the classroom, however. Most of the time this year, when the students got really out of control, I would have gut reactions to them and get really angry at them. Now, when I get to that point, I take a deep breath and say to myself "they're kids and they need help" and that changed my viewpoint about the situation and my response.

I've just got to make it to the end of the year. I'm no Michele Pfeiffer and I'm not the teacher in the freedom writers and I'm not Antonio Banderas in that movie where he changes lives in the kids by getting them to dance. I am Margaret Blount Montgomery and I have only succeeded this year in proving to myself that I can handle extreme stress and not explode.

I'm not going to grovel for crumbs.

I’ve been reading the gospels with the bishop of Mississippi and now twice I have seen the story of the Canaanite woman coming to Jesus asking for her daughter to be healed. It has bothered me both times. He answers her pleas for help with the statement, “It is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” She responds with something along the lines of “but even dogs eat the crumbs of the table.” After that statement, Jesus heals the woman’s daughter.

            I did some searching on google and there are some that say this was a way to prove that not everything asked for is granted immediately. That theory doesn’t suffice in my book. Jesus was extremely mean and the way this story unfolds is unfair. This woman has to prove to Jesus that she’s worthy. If you look at it, that can translate into we have to prove we are worthy of salvation and healing. This goes against everything we are taught about grace. Grace is not earned, it is there for those who accept it. Basically this woman, after being belittled and called a dog, shrugs it off and replies with a kind of desperation. I don’t know about you, but if God or Jesus belittled me, I don’t think I would take that in stride. I’d walk away and not look back.

            Something else I couldn’t shake was how closely this can compare to the way that most of the wider Christian world views homosexuality. I’m assuming that because the woman in the gospel was a Canaanite it colored things differently and presented a general negative stereotype. Homosexuality has a similar negative stereotype, one that often results in hatred and discrimination. Some feel that being a homosexual should deny that person salvation, that it is an unforgivable sin. The “God hates fags” group and many others see gay people as if their sexuality were the only thing about them.

            In this whole discourse about gay rights politically and gay rights in the church (to marry, to be ordained), time and again the gay community is told that we should be examples of great Christians and citizens to prove to others that we are indeed people deserving of equal rights.

            How is that not different than Jesus only healing after the woman proves her faith. She’s called a dog and she has to then convince Jesus that she’s not and that she’s faithful. Gay people are called dogs (much worse, in most cases) and treated as though they are not deserving of rights, let alone salvation and the love of God and fellow Christians. So, in that vein, I have to prove myself to be a good person to debunk the stereotype of Godless homosexuals.

            I shouldn’t have to prove myself to be a good Christian before I am granted the ability to get married in the church or to be ordained in the church. I should have those rights even if I am a horrible person. These rights, like grace, shouldn’t be earned, they should just be there. Unconditionally.

            I’m getting tired of responding that, “even dogs eat the crumbs of the table.” That table is God’s table and I’m a child of God. I’m not going to grovel at the feet of those who want to deny me the food of salvation because I don’t have to grovel for God’s grace. Homosexuals and those in the queer community shouldn’t have to grovel and prove themselves, but in this world at this moment, that’s exactly what we’re being told is the best thing to do.

Wise up world. God grants all people grace, unconditionally. It’s about damn time you do the same.

Long time, no write

Taking a step back   

            It’s officially lent and it’s taken me a while to figure out my routine. I like to take something on as well as give something up. One of the best reflections I have heard about lent is that lent is not meant for you to give up chocolate. There is a tricky part to Lenten disciplines. It’s important to have a practiced discipline and to exercise self-control, but you have to be careful to do it for the right reasons. For example, I could give up something like chocolate (popular discipline), but if I am doing that just to lose weight or because I think it might be easy, I would be doing it for the wrong reasons. However, if I give up chocolate to reflect and educate myself on the way corporations abuse workers and the environment in order to make it, it takes on a new meaning.

            This lent, the bishop of Mississippi has thrown down a challenge to read the four gospels over the 40 days. Having been a person who has valued faith over scripture, I have decided to take this challenge on. Granted, in order to achieve this I will be required to read quite a bit each night, but I think it will be important for me to do this so that I can further my relationship with God.

            I do think that the harder task I have given myself is to be optimistic about every day. My job teaching 7^th graders has been the most stressful experience I have ever faced. I’m not used to being bad at something, but I find myself struggling to just get by and hope that my students are learning something at all. I have taken on a pessimistic view of the difference I feel that I am making. I have gained through this a profound respect and appreciation for all of my teachers throughout grade school. It’s not easy.

            Lent is about stepping back and examining your life. Taking stock of what is important as well as what is lacking in your life is an important discipline. Understanding and recognizing parts of your life that inhibit the openness to Jesus and a relationship with God is a big part of stepping back. When I step back from my own life, I see that I am rushing through this part of my life, hoping for more fulfillments in the future. A friend of mine and I play the game of “future me.” Future Blount Montgomery never procrastinates, is fit enough to run a marathon (but chooses not to because Saturdays are writing days), and has written a couple of books that have done very well. While this is all fun and sometimes the game becomes completely in jest (future me is the owner of the New Orleans Saints, for example), there is something telling about this game. Too often we put off improving ourselves and becoming who we are meant to be until our future selves arrive.

            For lent, I am going to put off thinking about my future self. For lent I am going to focus on the present me. For lent I am going to put all my being into being ready for Easter.