After the tragedy in Orlando, I felt that I must write something. Yet, I was experiencing so many emotions, it was hard to know what to say.
The 49 people murdered at The Pulse collectively had hundreds of people who loved them. Those relatives, friends, and lovers each woke up this morning with a great hole in their life. Not having lost a loved one to violence, I cannot imagine their pain.
Nor can I imagine what goes through the mind of someone who intentionally causes such grief, anguish, and pain. I left my prayers up to the Universe. May all our prayers be followed by actions to try to excise hate and intolerance from our communities.
What I can imagine is how you, faithful leader, are reaching out to comfort the hurting in your congregations and other spheres of influence.
Recently, I read the statement from the woman raped by the ex-Stanford student, Brock Turner. I was able to keep a dry eye until I reached the end, where she thanked all the friends and family who loved her and all the strangers who were kind, even though they did not know her. I cried because despite the violence – physical, emotional, spoken – perpetrated against her, she made the decision to land in a place of love and gratitude.
And so, what I want to say to you is, “Thank you.”
For every child you have told that, “Love is the spirit of this church,”
For every time you had to ask the congregation for money to send a facilitator to an Our Whole Lives training so perhaps an LGBTQ youth could have at least one place in the world where their orientation and gender would be seen as natural and beautiful,
For every time you have modeled inclusion or celebrated diversity or created a pluralistic environment,
For every time you have felt saddened and overwhelmed and thought you could not take one more step for Justice, and you took a step anyway,
Let us hold each other and reach out to those who need to hear our message of love, never turning away, never turning back.
“It is not, if you believe religion is about dividing people between the saved and damned… but, if you believe that religion should seek to unite humanity rather than divide it, we are a very real religion.”
— Alice Blair Wesley
My mother was raised Jewish, and my father Catholic. When they married, they chose the then Unitarian Cedar Lane Congregation in Bethesda, MD. The Catholics wouldn’t have them, and my father was not called to convert to Judaism.
You might imagine the response of both of their extended families in 1971. My mother was marrying a goy, and my father, for his choice, was excommunicated. But over time, both extended families fought to understand the humans behind the labels. As they got to know Bronislaw and Laraine Sammler, the fact that one was Catholic and the other Jewish grew less and less important.
The goy and the Jew are also Republicans. In the Unitarian Universalist congregation we attended during my youth, they were loved for being an interfaith couple, but they were shunned (subtly and directly) for holding politically conservative views. Although I remained connected to youth group, my parents stopped attending.
Many lay and ordained Unitarian Universalists argue that an unwelcoming attitude to conservatives is a healthy expression of our values, that it shows our marked maturity as a movement. I might agree if every Republican were a demagogue deserving of social alienation. But my connection with my parents and other political conservatives has given me a peek behind the labels. There are just as many variant expressions of conservatism as there are expressions of theology in Unitarian Universalist congregations. An intolerance to a whole group of people isolates us in communities incapable of reaching across the political divide to secure a more just world, while it enfeebles our call to build the beloved community.
My parents welcomed all my crazy friends, with all their multi-various identities (LGBTQ, drug-addled, cross-dressing, aching, etc.), into our home with love and acceptance. Our home became known as a safe space, where we were free to be our full selves, and learn from one another. How can I, as a religious professional, serve a Unitarian Universalist congregation that would not welcome my parents into theirs?
When we allow a label to serve as a dividing line between “the saved and the damned,” we miss the whole point of our covenantal theology. Relationship and unity are cornerstone religious values, values that can, one day, help us build a beloved community. To do otherwise paints us as hypocrites and our faith as thin and fragile indeed.
Consider opportunities to welcome across partisan divisions in your congregation! The UUA offers the Beyond the Partisan Divide Toolkit: video and discussion workshops, small group ministry sessions, sermons, resources for children and youth, and more. Get started: Read anonymous statements from Unitarian Universalists about how liberal/conservative and Republican/Democrat barriers affect them in their faith communities.
The Reverend Anya Sammler-Michael serves the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Sterling (VA) as a full-time minister.
A graduate of Meadville Lombard Theological School, she is married to Rev. Scott Sammler-Michael, who also serves in Northern Virginia at the Accotink UU Church. Rev. Anya has received awards for her commitment to interfaith engagement from Loudoun Interfaith BRIDGES and the All Dulles Area Muslim Society, and in 2012 delivered an invocation for First Lady, Michelle Obama, and an invocation for President Barack Obama at separate campaign events. Her present studies include language philosophy, evil, and the partisan split.
Have you seen the Android commercial where the rock, paper, and scissors become friends? It’s the latest using the tag line, “Be Together. Not the Same.”
I admit to loving these ads. My life has been full of experiences of being together with people in groups where I am different from the majority. I get “being together, not the same.” It is a crucial concept for us as Unitarian Universalists doing interfaith work.
This year, I started to make good on a commitment I had made as director of the UUA Faith Development Office: to reach out to peers who serve other faiths and find ways to support one another and work together for the greater good. I started with telephone conversations. Then, in January, I took a bigger leap, along with Gail Forsyth-Vail and Pat Kahn, to attend the Association of Presbyterian Christian Educators (APCE) conference in Chicago. The APCE is one of the largest ecumenical gatherings of Christian religious educators in the country. Booking plane tickets for Chicago in January is a leap of faith; hoping that we would feel welcome was another. I am glad I took these leaps.
Groundwork was laid by contacting staff of APCE and the Presbyterian Church (USA). Their emails were warm and inviting. We were welcome to attend the conference, and they hoped to find time to meet with us.
The conference had 750 attendees and offered a plethora of workshops. I attended a well planned, interactive workshop on how to help people decide to embrace change and a workshop I felt less enthusiastic about, on race. In between, there was worship with great preaching by the Reverend Otis Moss III of the United Church of Christ, keynote speeches, and yes, even time to meet with a few Presbyterian Church staffers who discussed their work’s growing edges (which sounded strikingly familiar to me). I believe our conversations left us feeling as if we were in this work together, as liberal religious leaders doing our best to help ourselves and others make meaning of our complicated lives.
Our differences called for some translating, on my part. It felt disingenuous of me to sing some of the hymns, so I skipped some. I did not take communion, but I did accept an anointed blessing. Being together did not mean we were the same, and I felt no pressure to pretend or to disguise myself. One of the organizers of the conference invited us to attend in Denver next year and offered to provide a pre-conference gathering for any UUs in attendance.
Yes, Android has it right (no offense to Apple fans!) You can watch the “Be together. Not the same” Android ads on their YouTube channel.
One reason we, as Unitarian Universalists, may feel welcome in a mixed-faith environment could be the often multi-faith nature of UU congregations. Does your congregation offer the new pamphlet, Home for Multifaith People and Families?
The APCE website includes information on their 2017 conference.
Imagine with me for a minute: What if every person involved with General Assembly 2016 intentionally brought an open heart, mind, and spirit? Came ready to grow in faith and in commitment to Unitarian Universalist values? What if General Assembly becomes less a place to debate issues (however passionately we may feel about them!) and more a place to learn from voices and perspectives not our own and to turn together toward the significant challenges that call to us as Unitarian Universalists in this time and place?
What if GA were truly a faith development experience, for individuals, for groups, and for the body of Unitarian Universalists who will gather in Columbus, Ohio, June 22-26 and those who will join via the Internet?
Religious educators have long known that faith development happens when we sit up and pay attention—to the world around us, to the stories of our lives—and respond from our deepest values and commitments. The planners of General Assembly 2016 are asking us to anticipate a faith development experience. Along with being open to practical learning about living UU lives in our congregations and beyond, they’re asking participants to come with open hearts, prepared to focus our collective attention in these areas:
The potential of interfaith connections and coalitions to enhance our spiritual lives, our justice-making work, and the work we do to strengthen local communities and neighborhoods and resist the forces that would divide us.
The growing call of Unitarian Universalist witness and presence against persistent, pernicious racism and its continuing physical, economical, spiritual, emotional, and cultural damage…and emerging opportunities to join the movement for black lives and against racism as or with people of color in our faith communities, our local communities, and our nation.
We are asked to form a learning community before, during, and after this General Assembly. We are invited to prepare ourselves spiritually, mentally, and emotionally with this suggested pre-General Assembly spirit work:
Learn about the work of Rev. Dr. William Barber and the Moral Mondays fusion coalition movement. Read his book, The Third Reconstruction, and discuss or journal in response to questions in the discussion guide.
Find a story about interfaith connection, dialogue, and/or partnership from your own life and share it with others.
Details about how to prepare yourself, whether you will participate in person in Ohio or via the internet, can be found in the General Assembly pages. As co-chair (with Renee Ruchotzke) of the 2016 and chair of the 2017 GA Program Development Group, I’m very interested in learning about how you and your congregation or group share reflections, insights, and responses to the GA preparation materials. I’d love to hear from you with creative ideas and suggestions as we encourage one another to put our individual and collective faith development at the center of what we do at General Assembly.
Start and nurture conversations in your congregation, group, family, or circle of friends about interfaith connections, as well as conversations and actions supporting the movement for black lives and other efforts against racism in your congregation and in the wider community.
When one of my children was five years old, they entered kindergarten. The child we entrusted to the school was a high energy, affectionate, interesting kid. A kid who “bounced,” just like A. A. Milne’s Tigger in the Winnie-the-Pooh stories. A kid not always aware of their hyperactivity, nor of others’ reactions to it.
Only a few weeks later, the principal took me aside: “Gail, when are you going to get that kid on meds?” And thus began a long journey with a diagnosis, a label, which made my child a problem, not just in school, but at church, in sports, and just about everywhere else. And a long journey with a caring physician who, thank goodness, was always willing to put at the center of decisions my child’s own assessment of the way they felt, both on and off medicine. Although those years are past and my child is now grown, memories of that time still evoke pain, sadness, and outrage.
I recently read Back to Normal, by Enrico Gnaulati, a clinical psychologist specializing in childhood issues (Beacon Press, 2013). He asserts that we are giving diagnostic labels and psychiatric medications to children who may just be delayed in social, emotional, or linguistic development, or who may have temperaments that make it difficult to respond to the expectations of family, school, and culture. He observes that a diagnosis is often the key to medical insurance coverage and educational supports for a child who is having difficulty. Yet, diagnosis is often made quickly, without long-term observation of the child, and without exploring potentially complex explanations for hard-to-manage behaviors. Certainly there are children who have an autism spectrum disorder, bipolar disorder, or ADHD and for whom medication is an important help. However, he suggests that many children are given diagnostic labels that turn out to be inaccurate and unnecessary.
While I am unconvinced by Gnaulati’s attribution of certain kinds of behaviors to gender-related development issues, much of his writing is useful for religious educators and volunteers who work with children and families in congregational contexts. It really boils down to understanding each child as an individual, not a diagnosis, and understanding that the congregational culture and expectations may pose difficulties for some children that require creative adaptations. His book also refused to take either side of the nature/nurture debate with regard to causes of some children’s difficulties. For example, he writes:
…Believing an ADHD kid suffers from a brain disease can engender compassion. By the same token, it can lead to a sense of futility that nothing fundamental can be done on the teacher’s or the kid’s partto bring about lasting change. There may be the sense that the kid’s hyperactive behavior must be simply tolerated, managed, or controlled (whether through medication or behavioral methods) – not changed. This can lead to negative reactions, whether openly expressed or just ruminated on.
He goes on to point out that removing the label and dealing with the child can empower parents, families, and teachers (and congregations, I might add!) to more effectively help a child to grow and develop needed skills. It can also reduce the stigma and stress faced by a child with difficulties and the parent(s) who love them.
One of the first things I did as a new religious educator in the mid-1980s was to get in contact with those who had been doing the work for years and had much to share. I lived for monthly meetings of the Mass Bay Religious Education Team. I would come home brim full of ideas, enthusiasm, and love for the profession. And for the professionals who so graciously shared what they knew with newbies like me.
One of my fondest memories is of Rev. Barbara Marshman of Follen Community Church in Lexington, MA. She was already well known in the UU world, part of the mighty triumvirate of curriculum writers known as Brotman Marshfield (Charlene Brotman, Barbara Marshman, and Ann Fields). She was creative, artistic, dedicated, and so very willing to share the resources she spent hours creating for the children at Follen. She was a genius at taking the old UU curriculum kits, written with no specific religious content, and combining them with other resources to breathe life, and interest, and Unitarian Universalist connections into them. She took great interest in what was happening in our field and paid respectful attention to the ideas and contributions of a fledgling religious educator, like me.
One of the deepest memories I have of Barbara is after she retired from her position at Follen. Our RE Team needed a place to hold its monthly meetings, a congregation willing to host two or three dozen religious educators. Barbara Marshman was more than willing to host us, putting on her pretty apron and setting out coffee and treats for our meetings. She so believed in nurturing the next generation of religious educators that she gave her time so that our meetings could run smoothly. I am as grateful for that gift as for any of the others she brought. She taught me that sometimes the most important thing you can do is to facilitate the work that others are doing. She modeled being a gracious elder in our profession.
After Barbara died, her family decided to honor her by establishing a scholarship fund for continuing education for UU religious educators. The Marshman Fund was joined with the Ann B. Fields Fund and offers scholarships to this day.
I am at a time in my professional life when I look back and marvel at the people who have influenced me along the way, and at the substantial legacy they have left. Here is an excerpt from “Bridges, 1949,” a poem Barbara wrote. We who gathered read this at her memorial service:
Oh, God, if life is just a bridge from darkness to darkness
Then let me, with confidence build a firm one;
But please Dear God, let it be a shining one,
A lovely thing to see!
Barbara’s bridge was indeed a shining one, and I am grateful for her mentorship and example. If you are a religious educator engaged in graduate study, please do apply for a scholarship. Take good advantage of a beautiful legacy gift!
Marshman’s personal papers are being catalogued at the Meadville Lombard Theological School. If you would like to know more about that collection, please contact archivist John Leeker, firstname.lastname@example.org.
Soon after I started attending my first Unitarian Universalist congregation, in Corpus Christi, TX, I was introduced to the concept of “shared ministry.” Shared ministry recognizes that ministry—all that is done to fulfill the religious mission of a congregation—is a shared endeavor of the professional ministers and religious educators, along with lay leaders. Those in professional and lay roles bring important skill sets, experience, and expertise to a congregation’s ministries; success is found in the synergy of those leaders and all that they bring.
When shared ministry is a given, one can be oblivious to its happening. This was the case for me during a recent worship service at the congregation I now serve. An example of shared ministry between an ordained minister and a non-ordained religious educator was on display and it did not dawn on me until it was pointed out to me after the fact!
Some of you may be familiar with “question box” worship, where those in attendance may submit questions to which the minister may respond. This can be a risky venture for the minister, not knowing in advance what questions will come up. The questions may range from grand questions on the meaning of life to the more personal such as, “what is your favorite book?” (Though in this case there was some “vetting” of questions just before they were placed in the question box.)
My minister, Rev. Jennifer Kelleher, had facilitated such a service a couple of years ago and planned for another one in early February. But this time, she suggested we BOTH respond to questions, especially those posed by children and youth in the earlier part of service, before they left for classes.
I thought it was a great idea, one that also, conveniently, took care of planning the time for all ages component! Again, I did not realize at first that we would be modeling shared ministry in that the minister was “sharing the pulpit” with the religious educator and welcoming the input I would have on profound religious questions. Perhaps it did not strike me as noteworthy because the minister and I have had a collaborative working relationship from the start, and this congregation has a solid history of staff team collaboration as well as professional/lay partnerships.
You can see video footage on YouTube of Rev. Jennifer and me responding together to questions in our worship service. I hope it will be a useful example for those of you looking to explore shared ministry.
And I wonder if, for some, exploring shared ministry is a necessity. In today’s changing religious landscape, ordained ministers, for all of their many years’ of education and experience, are less often viewed as a faith community’s sole source of religious/spiritual answers. Moreover, after the service as I reviewed the many more questions we did not have time to answer (though I plan to, via other means), it occurred to me that not only would responses by ordained and non-ordained professionals be appropriate, but also answers from those in attendance. Imagine a service with intermittent opportunities for congregants to turn to their neighbors and share their responses with one another. Such may be a welcome, contemporary expression of our UU emphasis on the “prophethood and priesthood of all believers!”
A “Wonder Box,” often used in Time for All Ages, became the Question Box for this worship service (photo above).
Read the 2013 report from the Unitarian Universalist Shared Ministry Task Force.
A 2015 report from the Pew Research Center, “America’s Changing Religious Landscape,” discusses formal and informal ministry roles in faith communities today.
About the Blogger
Chris Buja, Director of Lifespan Faith Development for the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Somerset Hills in Somerville NJ, is currently working toward professional credentialing as a Unitarian Universalist religious educator. When not engaged in various shared ministry adventures, Chris enjoys running. And when not running, he and his wife Melanie can be found “running” after their two boys, Ryan and Kyle!
In 1980, when President Jimmy Carter proclaimed the week of March 8 as National Women’s History Week (now Month), he said, “Too often the women were unsung and sometimes their contributions went unnoticed. But the achievements, leadership, courage, strength and love of the women who built America were as vital as those of the men whose names we know so well.”
The proclamation responded to a need and a clamor to lift up women’s names. The women’s liberation movement of the 1960s and ’70s had raised the visibility of women as half the fabric of daily life and as important leaders and innovators. Expanding roles for women outside the home had invited a vanguard generation of professional women historians to investigate and document women’s roles in history. But, research from around the same time showed that in history textbooks, no more than 3% of the content talked about women.
Nowadays the Internet, local libraries, and our communities’ elder women abound with stories and accomplishments to share during Women’s History Month, or anytime. As UU religious educators, we have similarly abundant resources to lift up women’s historic contributions to our faith. How will you honor Women’s History Month, UU style, for the edification of the children, youth, and adults we serve? You will find some helpful links to stories, activities, and background information, below.
But first, read “Celebrating UU Women in History” and learn ten names worth knowing, if you do not already know them. For example, you’ll meet Olympia Brown, Cecilia Payne Gaposchkin, and Margaret Moseley, achievers in, respectively, ministry, astronomy, and civil rights activism.
Happy Women’s History Month!
The UUA’s free, online Tapestry of Faith curricula and other publications of the Faith Development Office provide many stories and activities to share that illuminate women’s roles in UU history. Antoinette Brown, who, like Olympia Brown, forged new paths in ministry, is the subject of “Antoinette Brown and Olympia Brown” in the grades 2-3 program Signs of Our Faith. Also for younger children, “Harriot Kezia Hunt Making a Difference,” in the Tapestry of Faith program Faithful Journeys, tells of a 19th century woman who became the first woman in the U.S. to practice medicine professionally. Clara Barton, Dorothea Dix, Beatrix Potter, and Harriet Tubman are among the other American women whose stories enhance our understanding of our faith heritage.
As a professor of African history, one of the first things I do with my classes is assess what they know—or think they know—about Africa. We discuss images in mainstream Western media and pop culture and identify problems in those presentations of Africa and Africans. We spend the rest of the semester trying to replace those often misleading, inaccurate, and derisive portrayals with evidence-based knowledge. We use focused case studies to give students a more realistic and rich understanding about the breadth and diversity of Africa and among Africans.
In addition to being a professor, I am the mother of Charlotte, a four-year-old, and Cooper, a two-year-old. Last fall, invited to volunteer-teach in my daughter’s classroom, I suddenly needed to figure out how to take my knowledge and turn it into something accessible for preschoolers. I was hoping to use story and activity to introduce Africa in an age-appropriate way that is counter to the images of war, disease, and poverty that have clouded my college students’ vision of Africa.
I quickly discovered that while numerous books about or set in Africa cater to preschoolers, much to my dismay, many of these books focus on animals. As someone who grew up loving Disney’s The Lion King, I understand the appeal of books with cheerfully drawn animals. However, it is frustrating that when I ask college students what they think of when they hear the word “Africa,” many of the positive attributes they share are related to animals and landscape, for example, “safari,” “Serengeti,” and “lions.” When we share this type of content with young children, we build and reinforce the notion of a whole continent whose positive aspects are found solely in its landscape and wildlife, and where the humans are less notable than the animals. I decided to bring the preschool children stories and activities that would teach something about African cultures, languages, aesthetics, values, music, or dance.
I identified several picture books that are great for introducing Africa to preschoolers. Stories I shared were set in various cultures and countries, with snapshots of daily life shown in pictures and through the text. For example, in Mama Panya’s Pancakes, a young child in a Kenyan village invites many members of the community to come over for pancakes despite the mother’s worry that there will not be enough food for them all. The story shows a rural home. The children learn about the marketplace as a center for socializing and shopping. The moral of the story is a lovely one: The child invites guests who bring their own contributions to the meal, much to the relief of Mama Panya. Charlotte’s classmates took from the book the importance of community and of being good guests. The friendly, generous characters serve as quite a contrast to some images of Africans my college students have shared.
I also sought ways to integrate African content with the regular classroom play-based curriculum and hands-on learning style. Charlotte’s teacher already used different activities to familiarize students with letters. I brought alphabet books in which the letters each introduce young children to different elements of African life and culture. Students got to shout out what letters they saw and then talked about the text I read to them and the drawings they saw. When the teacher led a module about trees, I brought in a wonderful book about Wangari Maathai, the Kenyan scientist and environmental activist who won a Nobel Peace Prize for her fight against deforestation in her community, which spurred the Greenbelt Movement all over Africa. Our art project that week was to make a classroom community tree. I used the story’s message about Maathai’s emphasis on community. I brought in a large, bare poster board tree trunk and dozens of cut-out leaves, and the students got to paint and glitter the leaves. Then we glued the leaves onto our tree, which their teacher hung on the wall for several weeks. I also engaged students from my university to come to the preschool class with me. One of the highlights of the semester was when a Ghanaian college student taught the kids how to play an African drum.
You do not need to be an expert in African Studies to find ways to present positive, humanistic, and realistic material to young students. Many of the books I used emphasized community, family, and other African values. Each week, a book served as inspiration for an art activity that blended African content with topics the class was already working on and allowed the children the chance to craft.
Heritage Box, a company owned by an African (Zimbabwe-born) and African American couple, offers subscriptions so families can explore each month a new, hands-on kit introducing an aspect of African American or African history and culture.
Share these engaging books about African life with young children:
A is for Africa, Chidi Only Likes Blue: An African Book of Colors, and Emeka’s Gift (a counting book), all by Ifeoma Onyefulu, a Nigerian author
I Lost my Tooth in Africa by Baba Wagué Diakité, a Mali-born author
Jambo Means Hello: Swahili Alphabet Book by Muriel Feelings
Mama Panya’s Pancakes by Mary Chamberlin
Nelson Mandela’s Favorite African Folktales by Nelson Mandela, the late President of South Africa
Off to the Sweet Shores of Africa by Uzo Unobagha, a Nigerian-born author
Wangari’s Trees of Peace: A True Story from Africa by Jeanette Winter
About the Blogger
Andrea Arrington earned her Ph.D. in African History at Emory University and is an Assistant Professor of History and African and African American Studies at Indiana State University. She lived and conducted research extensively throughout West Africa and Southern Africa and has taken students to Ghana for study abroad. Dr. Arrington is the co-author of Africanizing Democracies: 1880-Present (Oxford University Press) and the author of Victoria Falls and Colonial Imagination in British Southern Africa: Turning Water into Gold (forthcoming, Palgrave MacMillan Press). She serves as the Membership Secretary of the African Studies Association’s Women’s Caucus and is active in the Zambezi African Studies Association.
A wake-up call, according to the Urban Dictionary, is “when you’ve been doing something self-destructive for some time (perhaps without realizing it) before something serious happens that forces you to come to terms with what you’ve been doing and that you need to stop.”
“Something serious” happened to me last summer when I read the book, Waking Up White. Debby Irving, the book’s author, explained, “Exploring one’s relationship to that (dominant) culture is where the waking-up process begins.”
The book had a profound effect on me. As I read, I saw myself over and over again in Irving’s story. We come from similar backgrounds and went to the same college; the list of commonalities went on and on. Irving was 48 when she enrolled in an anti-racism class that would start her awakening. I was 45 when I attended the Multicultural Religious Education Renaissance module at The Mountain camp and conference center in North Carolina and was first introduced to Peggy McIntosh’s essay Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack. It was the first time I had ever heard of “white privilege”.
Toward the end of her book, Irving asks,
How can racism possibly be dismantled until white people, lots and lots of white people, understand it as an unfair system, get in touch with the subtle stories and stereotypes that play in their heads, and see themselves not as good or bad but as players in the system?
I have been asking myself these same questions, and it reminded of another wake-up call I experienced at General Assembly 2015 in Portland.
During the Starr King President’s lecture, Rev. Rosemary Bray McNatt introduced us to the term white fragility and spoke about a paper on the topic by Robin DiAngelo. She said, “I believe that whites who are serious about countering oppression and doing the work of liberation will first need to build their resilience to combat this culturally supported state of fragility, and Robin DiAngelo will do for this next generation of anti-racist work what Peggy McIntosh’s famous essay on white privilege did for the previous generation of anti-racist work.” She’s right, it’s a very powerful article.
Rev. Bray McNatt asked at the end of her talk
What are you willing to do? Are you willing to give up your silence and your complicity? Are you willing to be less fragile in your whiteness and more resilient? Are you ready to face the voice that is planted in your head and maybe your heart, and repent, turn away from the white supremacist culture you were taught not to notice, and turn toward a new way that we could build together?
Are you ready?
Here are resources for you to read, reflect, journal, share, and talk about with trusted friends. Toward what actions does your reading and reflection guide you?
Previous post about experiencing the Multicultural Religious Education Renaissance module
Towards the “Other America:” Anti-Racist Resources for White People Taking Action for Black Lives Matter, is a call to action to end white silence and a manual on how to do it. The e-book and discussion guide are provided, at no charge, by Chris Crass, an organizer, educator, and writer. He is also the author of “We Must Weather the Storm to See the Rainbow: An Open Love Letter to White UUs Struggling with Their Commitment to Black Lives Matter,” published on the Standing on the Side of Love website.