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October 20, 2006

yeah, why AREN'T we shocked?????

Stop whatever you're doing now. Take 5 minutes (perhaps less if you're a fast reader) and read this article. Do it.

As I checked new comments left on one of Nas's recent posts, I remembered the article from a couple of days ago, and I want to start some dialogue on it. I think it’s particularly fitting for Domestic Violence Awareness Month. I don't know where it will lead, and I hope people will weigh in honestly and without filters. I know I have lots of questions and thoughts on the topic of safety and dignity for women and girls, and I'll offer just a few of them here since I could write for DAYS about this. I may meander a bit here…

I often lament the prospect of one day raising my children in this world—particularly my girls. (Enshallah.) I cringe at the thought of my 12-year old daughter feeling pressure to spend hours in the bathroom obsessing over her hair, makeup and outfit for school, just so she can look like a girl on a magazine cover who has the word “juicy” sprawled across her behind. My heart breaks when I imagine what music lyrics might teach her about her milkshake bringing all the boys to the yard, taking off her clothes ‘cause it’s getting hot in here, bringing it on back ‘til she feels something hard on her back, and her lovely lady lumps. And I shudder to think about her tender soul’s reaction to fgm, female infanticide, and the general assault of violence against women—all quite prevalent in today’s world.

When I reflect on my own upbringing, I’m really not sure how I turned out the way I am, and I am still puzzled by a few things. (I’ll get to the puzzlement in a moment.) For the record, I was never a girly girl. I was pretty tough and a bit of a tomboy from a very young age. Sure—I was just as into fads and trends as the next young girl. I watched MTV, was influenced by Madonna’s music and image, and was interested in being “accepted” by my peers. I had to have that Forenza sweater just like my friends. But I was pretty naïve about most things. Like music—when I was a child, I had NO idea what songs like “Angel is a Centerfold” and “Master and Servant” were really about. I just liked the way they sounded, and I liked dancing to those songs. (Go ahead—have a chuckle at my expense. I’m ok with it.) In high school, I valued sleep more than spending time on my hairdo, brains more than boobs, and eating dessert more than being super skinny.

I’m not sure where I got the “I could care less” attitude. My mom was (and still is) so beautiful—glamorous, even—and well-dressed. But I never really cared about all that, or that so many people would comment on how I looked exactly like her. Maybe it was my way of rebelling against my perception of society’s ridiculous pressure on women—a perception that strongly clashed with my spiritual training about gender equality and my understanding of what it meant to be a liberated woman. Maybe it was because something in me was painfully aware and disapproving of my father’s unfavorable and often inappropriate opinions of and relationships with women. Maybe my tough side came from having always been very different from my classmates (being a non-Christian brown-skinned kid—one of two in my entire elementary school experience) and having been teased a lot for it as a girl. I learned early on not to take any shit from anyone, especially boys. My response to one classmate who called me a hairy gorilla in 6th grade (no joke) was to kick him hard right where I knew it would hurt him most. (Ironically, we became good friends in high school. It’s amazing what a little maturity will do for a boy.) And maybe that tough side taught me not to care about what other people thought about me, especially boys.

Something interesting happened along the way, though, and things became complicated. For one thing, feeling beautiful or sexy and being intelligent or spiritual became mutually exclusive. Somehow beautiful girls were not smart in my paradigm of thinking. Somehow it was not ok to love your body and celebrate its beauty by dressing up or “showing some skin” if you were intelligent. Girls who had a sensual or physical sense of themselves and dressed up or dressed “provocatively” (that is SUCH a loaded word!) were just asking for attention—especially attention from boys. And that attention wasn’t “safe” as it might lead not only to sexual acts (not ok outside of marriage in my religious paradigm) but also to physically dangerous situations; therefore, it wasn’t intelligent. For me, it seemed having a sense of my sexuality was “dirty” and not appropriate or smart for a “lady”—especially a liberated one. This has led to so many body image and sexuality issues for me, and in talking with many girlfriends over the years, I have discovered that I am not alone in my struggles and confusion. So many of us have shunned any semblance of sexuality that we haven’t known how to develop healthy sexual intimacy in our most precious relationships.

This really gets at the heart of my puzzlement. Bob Herbert said this in his op-ed piece:

“We have a problem. Staggering amounts of violence are unleashed on women every day, and there is no escaping the fact that in the most sensational stories, large segments of the population are titillated by that violence. We've been watching the sexualized image of the murdered 6-year-old JonBenet Ramsey for 10 years. JonBenet is dead. Her mother is dead. And we're still watching the video of this poor child prancing in lipstick and high heels.
“What have we learned since then? That there's big money to be made from thongs, spandex tops and sexy makeovers for little girls. In a misogynistic culture, it's never too early to drill into the minds of girls that what really matters is their appearance and their ability to please men sexually.
“A girl or woman is sexually assaulted every couple of minutes or so in the US. The number of seriously battered wives and girlfriends is far beyond the ability of any agency to count. We're all implicated in this carnage because the relentless violence against women and girls is linked at its core to the wider society's casual willingness to dehumanize women and girls, to see them first and foremost as sexual vessels - objects - and never, ever as the equals of men.
“ ‘Once you dehumanize somebody, everything is possible,’ said Taina Bien-Aimé, executive director of the women's advocacy group Equality Now.”

And I can’t agree more. I passionately, fervently, wholeheartedly agree. But where, then, is the solution? Where is the delicate balance? Clearly, we cannot and must not advocate the objectification of women. We have to uphold the spiritual principle of gender equality and apply it to all facets of life—economy, relationship roles, education, industry, etc. And we are morally compelled to teach our girls that they are NOT first and foremost sexual vessels and they are NOT designed solely to focus on their appearance and their ability to please men (or women) sexually.

A burning question on my mind is this: How do we raise our girls to have self-confidence, to trust their instinct and their body, be spiritually upright, dignified, and moral while having a healthy sense of their sexuality and true beauty and the appropriate expression thereof?

Our bodies ARE beautiful. They have been celebrated in art and literature for centuries. I think it’s interesting that we accept the Venus de Milo as one of the world’s greatest works of art while we decry the nude photography of Robert Mapplethorpe and similar photographers as being pornographic or degrading of women. So what’s the difference?

Perhaps what I’m exploring here has to do with intention, or at least our assumption of intention. I don’t believe it was a Greek sculptor’s or Mapplethorpe’s intention to degrade women by immortalizing nude females. I don’t think these artists were expressing a desire to dominate or objectify. And I imagine that’s what Mr. Herbert was pointing out as well.

Our intention cannot be the dehumanization of any member of our world culture—women, blacks, Chinese, children, homosexuals, the undereducated, or the homeless. Our intention cannot be the perpetuation of misogyny and the degradation of women in American society. And I will get on my “it starts with me” soapbox one more time—our intention, first and foremost, has to be a fearless assessment of the ways in which each of us as an individual contributes toward or breaks down gender equality. I will come clean about my own actions, as ugly and disgusting as they were in one particular moment. The other day I found myself unutterably frustrated with traffic, and I gasped in shame as I heard the word “whore” muttered under my breath while I angrily drove around a woman who was smoking, talking on her cell phone AND driving slow in the left lane.

Why aren’t we shocked? Indeed.

I am still trying to figure out how to be the woman I am meant to be, the woman I want to be, the woman I know myself to be in my heart of hearts. I am working on my self-acceptance and sense of nobility as God’s creature. I endeavor daily to align my actions and words more closely with my sense of the divine in each of us. I pray for love, surrender and compassion to be my guiding principles. I struggle with my body image and strive to find balance with my sense of my sexuality. And most importantly, I am eager to explore what still needs to be accomplished to create a safe, nurturing, healthy world for our girls. Some organizations are just beginning to graze the surface of this issue. One thing is clear—we’ve got a long way to go, baby.

October 19, 2006

time goes by

I am totally mesmerized by a few things today.

1. Afshin blogged about this guy back in September. If you haven't yet checked him out, do it. Now. The thought of having an image of yourself—a moment in time captured digitally—for every day of your life for even ONE year is awesome. What a way to embody the "Be Here Now" and "Just For Today" philosophies. Awesome.

2. During this time last year, I made life-altering decisions that—although painful, difficult and sad—were some of the best decisions I have ever made. That blows me away. Let's face the facts—it took about 32 years, gut-wrenching honesty, isolation, my world being turned upside-down, and intense prayer on my knees to learn how to live my life more authentically. AND... I'm still learning how, every day, one day at a time. Blows me away.

3. There is natural ebb and flow to relationships (friendships, specifically—although I'm sure this applies to all relationships) that seems to be aligned with the universe. I am in close contact with friends I have known my entire life today, and I have not heard from other friends for months, even years. Were I to count the number of people I have called "friend" at one point or another in my lifetime, we'd be well into the hundreds, maybe even pushing a thousand. That's mind-boggling to me. What interests me most, though, is how, why and when people have come and gone throughout my life and what lessons I might glean by reflecting on the value or meaning of these precious souls crossing my path when they did. Mind-boggling.

4. I am craving sugar these days like it's going out of style. My sweet tooth is having it's way with me—and with my belly. Some things don't change no matter how much time goes by.

October 08, 2006

a week's worth

This past week has been quite eventful, and significant thoughts have coursed through my mind. Today is a beautiful day here. The first hints of fall are showing, even though it is almost 80 degrees. It is difficult to imagine having a pumpkin carving when it feels like beach weather outside. Nevertheless, the visible changes around me inspire me to think about what changes I might like to make internally. Starting with my most recent reflections...

I attended my Unit Convention today. I almost didn't 'cause I was SO tired when I woke up this morning. But it was a small victory for me that I did attend—I had made a promise to myself to go and I honored that promise despite the fact that I had to work through some very uncomfortable feelings that arose for me. A victory, indeed. All too often, it is so easy for me to talk myself out of following through on something I want to do or told myself I would do. Small change in my behavior, small victory.

And it was such an experience of growth for me. It was so interesting for me to be so aware of my thinking as I drove up to the Bahá'í Center. It sounded something like this: “Do I really want to do this? What if I just go home and take a nap? I am tired, after all. Yeah, that sounds like a great idea—a nap! My body needs it. No… I said I would go, I need to go. I want to go. I am inspired to go. My soul needs it. Okay… I’ll go. Man, I really don’t feel like going. Having to deal with all those people, and I don’t really know anyone anyway. For whom would I vote? Stop it. Just go. You want to go. There is a reason you want to go. Try it out and see where the adventure takes you.” In the end, this last thought convinced me. It’s all about the possibilities, right? I parked my car, said a little prayer, and walked up to the Center, all the while breathing in the spectacular cool autumn blue sky.

It may seem like such a small thing. Big whoop—so I went to my Unit Convention. But this was my first appearance at any Bahá'í gathering here in the Nashville area. And that was a big deal. It’s not that I have been avoiding participating. Well, okay—it is exactly that I have been avoiding it! And the exact reasons that have kept me in private spiritual practice for the past 8 months reared their ugly heads today. In fact, they reared their heads as I walked up to the registration table. What I am about to share next completely comes from inside my head and a little bit from a place of judgment and hurt in my heart. I own that, and I want to make clear from the outset that I do not apply these observations to the whole of the Bahá'í community or Bahá'ís in general. These are simply my personal observations and are necessarily colored by my unique experience in life.

That I was feeling a sense of judgment at all says a little about the growth I need and perhaps some changes I need to make. Clearly, had I approached the event with more detachment and an open heart I may not have felt so guarded and judgmental. It was what it was, I suppose, and I was struck by a few things. I noted how reserved and somewhat disingenuous people seemed. Granted, I’m a newcomer and no one knew me—at least no one at the registration table knew me—but no one made any effort to know me either. Everyone seemed concerned about their own “business” and not much more. Hm. Interesting. Not quite the loving atmosphere I had anticipated, and that was my second interesting observation. I had some expectations going into the Convention. What they were exactly, I am not sure. But I had them. Hm. Perhaps because I had such an AMAZING experience with my second “home” Bahá'í community in North Carolina did I have expectations here. That community was so loving, so warm, so open, so focused on creating genuine connections with people. Again, that was *my* experience. I have friends who had a VERY different take on the exact same community. Just goes to show how subjective one’s community experience is.

So, yeah—I was looking for a new home community. I was looking for that warm and fuzzy feeling that we strive to create even at work. I was looking for a group that reflected what I believe about how we ought to be treating other people in life, how we have such power to create meaningful connections at every turn, even if we’re simply serving someone a cup of coffee. I was looking for a divine atmosphere, a gathering that in its very nature proclaimed, “Here is God.” I was looking for love, connection, courtesy, and warmth. I feel sad to say that I don’t believe I found that warmth, but I am also willing to be open to other experiences before making a final judgment, so to speak. And I am also willing to examine how I may contribute to and influence that kind of atmosphere where I want to find it.

And there was SO much that I did enjoy about Convention, I feel a little guilty about sharing what felt like the downside. (And I fully realize it felt like the downside only based on my own perception and coloring—again, had I been more open…) I was so moved by the devotions that the area youth committee prepared. Such fervor, such energy, such power. It was inspiring. I shed a few tears as I gazed at the beautiful Greatest Name carved into wood and affixed to the ceiling in the main hall of the Center. It is a beautiful building in general, actually, and I was quite happy that the local community had such a beautiful structure to its name. The Convention Chair was loving, humorous, inclusive, and just wonderful in general. The Chief Teller was also just a joy to witness. She was clearly serving with a spirit of joy. The community had planned all kinds of fun outdoor activities for the kids, including a huge moonwalk balloon thing that I totally wanted to jump onto! And the letter from the National Spiritual Assembly gave me goosebumps. It was so moving, so sincere, so heartfelt. I loved it.

And, perhaps the best part of the day was the WARMEST welcome I received by the fabulous Susi Graves (mother of a certain Lacey Graves Gerard, ahem) and my dear friends Robin and Andre who recently moved here from Chicago as well. It was such a joy for me to see them all and catch up a little bit. It was a pleasure to be reminded how awesome it feels when you really connect with people.

Speaking of connection, more to come…