Seeds of Peace

from James...

Real wisdom, God's wisdom, begins with a holy life and is characterized by getting along with others. It is gentle and reasonable, overflowing with mercy and blessings, not hot one day and cold the next, not two-faced. You can develop a healthy, robust community that lives right with God and enjoy its results only if you do the hard work of getting along with each other, treating each other with dignity and honor.

Monday

One of these days I'm going to learn to follow directions. I am actually better at navigating public transportation than anything else... on foot is the most frustrating b/c re-tracing steps takes so long. The NLM is inside the NIH, which is about as huge at the TMC (now I'm just using acronyms for no good reason). So I got off the Metro and promptly went the longest way possible to the library, and went in the back and had to take a tunnel... it was an ordeal. I also got lost inside the History of Forensics exhibit, when I was trying to take a shortcut (why do I do this to myself?). Creepy!

So I'm getting pretty good at this all day archival digging. It helps when you work with nice people and especially helps when you're really patient, because nothing ever goes as planned. I was in the reading room with about 6 ph.d.'s doing research, and one 13 year old kid with his dad. He (the kid) was researching civil war medicine. Obviously.

Sunday

Apparently even historians like to shop. Or they like to buy books at half price, because there were a slew of them in the exhibit hall today. I tried to talk one publisher into giving me an advanced copy of this great book, but no dice. I walked away with 6 books and I was happy with that (especially for the price).

The session I attended discussed new paradigms for the global history of medicine and public health, which was quite interesting particularly in light of the global AIDS pandemic. Reconceptualizing the way we study the history of disease could potentially impact the way we seek to cure it.

I spent time with my historian friend at the National Geographic Center and taking pictures at the White House for her kid. Then I got horribly lost trying to make it to the National Cathedral for a Eucharist service. I actually just gave up, and met my friend for Ethiopian cuisine and chocolate cake.

Tomorrow I'm going deep into the archives, so let's hope that goes well...

Saturday

It's the weekend?

After a short night's sleep (thanks in part to a false fire alarm in the middle of the night), I made it to a breakfast a few blocks away at 8 AM. Not my ideal hour of the day! It was especially difficult to be alert enough to interact with people. But I persevered. Then I attended a session on the decline of the secular university... arguing that many universities are exclusive because they ignore the Judeo-Christian, Roman, Greek, Hebrew, and other religious influences on western academic thought. It was pretty interesting. Then on to a lunch meeting that lasted several hours.

I had an interesting conversation with a woman today who was raised Southern Baptist, converted to Episcopalian, and now teaches in a Quaker school. Women in ministry came up, and she pointed out that people are quick to explain away the verses that support slavery, or tell us to be poor, but cling to the verses that might seem to suggest that women should not be in public ministry.

I took the afternoon and evening off... Conferences are so great but so exhausting. It's a lot to take in and a lot of energy all at once. So I'm resting up for another big day tomorrow.

Friday

De facto/de jure segregation was neither de facto nor de jure. Discuss. I love panels like this, that debate language and deconstruct accepted frameworks. Basically, these panelists argued that there’s too much Southern exceptionalism in the discussions surrounding Jim Crowe and desegregation. It actually got me thinking about re-framing the borders of my own dissertation study. Drat.

One of the benefits of organizational membership is networking with important people. Sometimes no one outside the organization cares, but in this case, you may actually be interested. One of the staff Congressional historians (there’s only four) is a member and arranged a private tour for a few of us to see the Capitol. It was awesome. You haven’t seen a major historical site until you’ve seen it with a group of historians.

Two things were exceptionally cool… First, we got to go on the floor of the House. I sat in the second row! I might actually watch the State of the Union this time… It’s easy to forget about the separation of powers in our government given the intense focus on the executive branch, so it was cool to see all that up so close.

Second, we got to see the new Capitol Visitor Center, which will open in November 2008. It’s still under construction but is primarily finished, so it was really nice to see it before it all gets crazy. We also got to see the new Congressional Auditorium, which won’t be open to tourists. It’s a 450 seat theater type room that the House or Senate can use (and the Library of Congress, actually). Hearing the politics of all that went into creating the visitor center and the museum was fascinating, especially from two historians who were part of the process.

I went to the graduate student reception for the food, but didn’t eat enough, so I went to get French toast. Breakfast for dinner is one of my favorite things in life. I don’t know why. I also met up with a friend from Iowa and some of his colleagues. We discussed the importance of Pietism, the nuances of Anabaptists in England, and the definition of the emergent church. I tried to tell them there wasn’t much of a definition for the latter (that’s kind of the point), but I tried my best. I’m pretty sure they now think that my church worships icons, discards I Corinthians, and has more staff than congregants… none of which are true. Oh well, what can you do?

LK Goes to Washington, Thursday

I'm in our nation's capitol attending the AHA, the largest professional historians conference. I rolled out of bed at 5:45 and left in sweats 15 minutes later to catch a flight... So I arrived to the conference hotel a pretty big mess. I always feel like a little bit a poser at these things, so it was important to make an entrance...

This is by far the biggest conference I've attended. I received the program in the mail a week ago, and it's roughly the size of a phone book. The intellectual exchange is crazy. And it's a funny subculture--a bunch of academics so completed interested in little tiny pieces of history (like myself). On the elevator I told my friend that almost an hour had passed since I heard the name Foucault. Everyone laughed. The father of postmodernism must be mentioned as much as possible! One woman suggested we make a drinking game out of it, take a shot every time someone says Foucault. We abandoned the idea because we would get alcohol poisoning.

I attended a session on African Americans in asylums (uplifting, I know) and finished the evening with dinner at an organic Indian restaurant. I shared a two-hour meal at Taste of India (not to be confused with Little India, right next door) with two colleagues I never see, even though we live in the same city. We had this great conversation deconstructing the Christian faith. It was 27 degrees when we walked home from our after dinner coffee shop... way too cold for my tastes!

New Year(s)

Time to replicate a dream and
Move forward,
Knowing that I am so undeniably
Not alone.
All this cyclical patterning
Of time and understanding,
And I feel more at peace
With myself.
The Peace You have given.

My Own Advent Conspiracy

For the past two Christmases I've been involved in the Advent Conspiracy, a movement inspiring compassion, not consumption, over the holidays. My church has done a lot to bring inspiration and practicality to this ideal, by providing several ways to donate money to Living Waters International. This organization builds and repairs wells to provide clean water to communities all over the world.

Last year, I felt convicted to spend half what I would normally spend on gifts and donate the other half to Water. This year, I felt like giving a small, set amount to water and being intentional with my gift-giving. I'm a big believer in Second Corinthians 9:7, "Each person should give what they have decided in their heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver."

So here's what's happened.

Last year, I gave one donation in honor of my office and gave everyone water bottle labels designed by the kids at my church. This year, one of my co-workers donated money for Water in honor of all her cousins.

My mother-in-law to be said she was inspired by the way my fiance and I do Christmas, and has decided to make it a tradition to donate to a different cause in my name each year. Given my heart for empowering women, she chose the Darfur Stoves Project this year, which provides stoves to refugee women that require 75% less fuel. This means they have to venture into the dangerous world outside the refugee camp much less.

My grandmother told me today that she and my grandfather spent their Christmas gift money for each other on a hefty food and supplies donation to Interfaith Ministries. My grandparents also requested that their children give a donation to a charity rather than give them gifts. My parents chose the 1000 Wells Project through Blood Water Mission, which also provides clean water. This was significant because my grandparents attend church with a man who owned a successful contracting business and gave it all up to work for Living Waters. My grandmother had tears in her eyes when she told me all this. They are fairly well off and could have afforded gifts in addition to their donation, but it just wasn't about that.

I did almost all of my Christmas shopping at Ten Thousand Villages this year. It's a fair trade organization that sells the most beautiful, handmade goods from everywhere. I have to admit I was so overwhelmed by the peaceful experience I had shopping there that I got teary more than once. Seeing Nativity scenes from all over the world was truly inspiring, recognizing how the story of God transcends culture.

Some say that giving is like a chain; I think it's more like a spiral. Because it all comes back to me in such miraculous ways. Three women have it a little easier in Darfur refugee camps, some children have the chance at life because of clean water, and a few artisans got a fair wage for the work, all indirectly because of me. This is why I believe in the miracle of Christ, because we are all so connected and so equipped to change and inspire and love.

It is by far the greatest conspiracy.

Advent One/Two

Listening to the Spirit move where I've never seen the Spirit move... It's everywhere and I feel this subtle awakening in all the parts of my soul. Because I remember Your simple entrance into the world and I am changed. It's a wonder that You understand the likes of me when You are so much more. But somehow that makes me everything, it makes me new and redeemed and whole. And it makes You bigger than I can imagine.

Recognizing the painfully simple miracles of my everyday, and I hope.

Savor the color of angels,
Taste the water of Life,
and breathe freely.

Reach deeply into our souls and bring healing into our brokenness.

I will Rejoice, for my Savior has come to change everything.

Checking In

Taking the pieces
And making them one;
Repairing,
Transitioning,
Repeating.

The cyclical pattern
Of all my anxiety
Rests calmly when I
Cast them on You.

Coming to know all the
Important entities of
Life and love and
Who You are.

And I still fret about
Tomorrow,
About the unknown
And the uncomfortable...

Adventurous as I am
I hesitate to let go,
To climb forward,
To change.

Checking out to fix it
All in isolation,
Where I make no sense
Of anything;

And I now choose to
Check back in
And untangle the ugly
Process of being solitary.

Renewing,
Embracing,
Sharing,
Being.

And thanking.

Mon Meilleur Ami (My Best Friend)

I have to thank my grandparents for suggesting I watch the French film Le Valet, because it introduced me to the two actors in this charming (that's right, charming) French movie Mon Meilleur Ami. The sentiment is reminiscent of Nick Hornby's About a Boy, as it explores the loneliness of isolation and the joy of finding community.

Francois, a successful art dealer takes a bet suggested by his partner that he must introduce her to his best friend in ten days. He essentially has no friends, and can't even connect to his own daughter or girlfriend in any real way. He meets a sociable cab driver whom he pays to teach him how to interact with people. As you might imagine, the two become friends. However, the plot takes a turn when Francois uses Bruno to win the bet and the two part ways in the wake of betrayal. (Don't worry, there's a happy ending.)

It just got me thinking about our basic need for friendship. Nothing too spectacular or profound, just how we need to connect to one another. Bruno tells Francois at one point that a friend will go the limit, but he can only understand that in monetary terms. He has the hardest time just having a conversation, or meeting with someone without a business reason. Friendship is sometimes frivolous, and it should be. It's also comforting and redeeming and all those things we can't always find in ourselves.

Like I said, nothing spectacular, just a good reminder of something so basic it's easy to forget.

Twenty-Seven

I started writing a really self-reflective post about getting older and being young, but instead I decided to cite some random things I have observed/experienced in the past few days. This randomness makes me love my neighborhood and school even more:

* In Third Ward, a man on a pedicab (you know, like a bicycle rickshaw) with a sign on the back that read "Tour de Hood"

* One of my women's studies students expressing her interest in becoming a trial lawyer at 80 for the express purpose of beating up on young, male lawyers in the courtroom

* Walking my fiancee's dog to the video store and letting her run around inside the store without a leash

* A woman brushing her teeth at the bus stop

* Showing the new IT girl the jock strap chandelier in my office


I wish I was creative enough to come up with this stuff on my own! It's a good thing my life holds so much inspiration.

Fireflies

My great-grandmother passed away a few weeks ago. She'd been sick with various ailments for a few years, and spent the last few months in bed. I saw her this summer and said my good-byes then, so I didn't travel with the rest of my family to Alabama for the funeral. She was 99; lived a great, long life with lots of compassion and quite a family legacy.

Her death is affecting me differently than I thought it would. I feel as though a part of my childhood died with her. No more summers catching fireflies in jars and sitting on the porch swing and clogging my arteries with Southern cooking.

Simultaneously, I'm getting married next summer. Societal expectations assume that marriage equals growing up. You can be 21 and married and a grown-up, but 35 and single and not a grown-up. Explain that to me. So whatever societal constrictions I fight against, I still feel them.

I don't want to be a grown-up (why do you think I've stayed in school so long?). I don't want to be a kid, either. My mom says 27 is a great age because I can enjoy the benefits of being young and the adventure of growing older. Or something like that. She says a lot of smart things that I try to let seep into the way I live. My dad says I should have a daughter my age getting married, that would make me feel like a grown-up.

Being engaged is terribly fun, but it presents a transition in identity that I could not have anticipated. How do I go from being one (me) to being one (us)? My sister says to think of it as adding to yourself, not taking away. Becoming one does not indicate losing yourself, and my partner is my best ally in the process.

But there's still a sort of mourning that happens... now I know why historically and in many cultures the women take the bride-to-be away for a week and really embrace that transition. I was a pretty content single woman, and now I'll be a content married woman. It's a lot to take in.

I think the reason I loved the fireflies so much was because they looked like stars, yet I could catch them. I could put them in a jar and make them my own personal miracle. So I'm taking them with me into my adulthood, or maybe I'll say growth journey. Because childhood miracles sustain and inspire us as we move forward, synthesizing all the parts of our complex and beautiful existence into one.

Why I Love Kids' Church

The children at my church are really cool. They come from pacifist homes and are more articulate and creative than I am. And so funny. Here are some of my favorite kids lines from this Sunday:

From a 6 year old: Do you know what Turkish medieval music sounds like? I can't show you because I don't have the instrument, but it's kind of like a bagpipe and flutes.

From a group of boys, after they pinned my fiance to the ground and pelted him with fake food: You are going to die from rotten death mold! (Apparently the pacifism hasn't quite caught on with them)

From a 3 year old: Cute boots! Mine are broken.

From a 4 year old: Hey! You are not the boss, you can't be... because you're a girl!
From a 7 year old in response to this comment: Dun dun dun... (think the music on movies that signals impending doom)

(And don't worry, I set him straight... and so did his mom when she came to pick him up)

Feminist Fiancee

Well, it's official... I'm engaged! To hear how it happened and be apprised of our journey as an engaged couple, check out the blog my fiance started. It's tongue-in-cheek and completely adorable. I'll be contributing as well.

Love Your Body Day, October 18

Whoever said feminists haven't done anything good for the world?

While I disagree with some of the politics of the National Organization for Women, they put forth a lot of initiatives that no one else does. The Love Your Body Campaign is one. "Give me your curves, your wrinkles, your natural beauty yearning to breathe free." Amen, sista!

Body image is a huge issue for women and men. We say that so often I seldom stop to think about it anymore. A few minutes of advertising analysis and you realize how screwed up the media is (check out the "Positive Ads" and "Negative Ads" on the website). Ads are over-sexualized, terribly focused on the superficial, and not to mention confusing.

All that to say, this is a good reminder to slow down and remember that "the King is enthralled by our beauty." I believe wholeheartedly that God intricately knit us together and made us unique and stunning. Our bodies are temples.

So exercise, eat right, take pride in the way you look... not because you hate your body but because you LOVE your body!

I leave you with the newest Dove Campaign for Real Beauty video. Dove launched this campaign after conducting a study in which 2% (that's right, two percent) of women said they thought they were beautiful. Sure, it's a clever marketing strategy, but I really applaud them. They have lots of educational outreach and good data to back up their media.




Remember... celebrate on October 18!

Love Never Gives Up

"Love Wins" has been the theme of my church community for the past year or so. It reminds me that love never fails, the oft-quoted verse in I Cor. 13. That mantra means several things to me presently...

1) Most importantly it means that God, who is Love, never gives up on me. That might sound cliche, but it is so not cliche when you are doubting if God has any idea what He's doing with your life or the world, as I have often questioned lately. My health has dipped for longer than normal and even when I have been on the edge of totally isolating myself because of it, I have this really clear sense that God won't let me fall.

2) Love Wins also means that love triumphs over the strife and oppression in the world. Oppressors need to be loved, too. Victims need love. And I need to love them all, especially when I feel like I can't end slavery, or fix my foster brother, or stop discrimination, etc., by mere force of will. Love is where it all begins, out of deep compassion for the souls who suffer, and aligning myself with the high and the lowly, to love in an unconditional and profound way that I am only capable of doing with the full capacity of Christ's love.

3) And finally it means that in all my human relationships, love will never fail. That means that love hasn't failed in the relationships I have cut off or have been cut off from. And it doesn't and won't fail through all the changes and difficulties and nuances of my current and future relationships.

LOVE WINS

Head + Heart

The unfortunate nature of the human race is that we are terribly adverse at communication. I'd say most of the time I'm struggling to be heard--partly because I feel ignored or partly because I just can't express what I mean and feel. Thinking simultaneously with your heart and your head, and then trying to present all that in an honest and honoring way, is really tricky.


God is a God of order and of peace, not of confusion. So when I get so horribly confused and frustrated about the disorder of human communication, I have to remember that it's truly not God's plan. My default actions run in this order: fix, fight, flight. If I can't make everything better, I'll really fight to be heard. And if none of that works, I bail. I retreat physically or emotionally. While all of these responses are sometimes necessary and appropriate, it's not the pattern I want to follow every time I have something to express.

Peace, affirmation, and confidence should be the cornerstone of my approach to communication. If all that crumbles, then so be it, but at least I'm starting out with good intentions. Building each other up, creating spaces where it's safe to be who we are, and really listening to one another are so important.

As I strive to be more in touch with my own heart, I see my communication patterns becoming more complex in all areas of my life. A meeting with my dissertation adviser, a phone call from my parents, a comment from a pastor, a conflict with my partner... all somehow elicit really huge and emotional responses from me. So much so that I don't know what to do with it.

It would be easier if I just sought to live up to the stereotype that women are too emotional to deal with things and to irrational to be rational. But that's not me... I'm horribly rational and horribly emotional. So I can analyze (or over-analyze) every situation and then let my heart overflow about it. It's just trying to integrate my head and my heart in a way that doesn't completely overwhelm me that seems impossible. I'll get there, I just don't know when.

Not for Sale

Sunday I attended a presentation entitled The Concert to End Slavery, an awareness raising event by the Not For Sale Campaign. This is the first time in a long time that I have felt like I had a concrete opportunity to be effectively involved in the fight against modern slavery.

If you are thinking to yourself, "I thought slavery ended after the American Civil War," you're not alone. As a historian and teacher, I even believed slavery to be extinct. I knew workers were exploited and assumed some women were forced into prostitution, but never entertained the thought that slavery might be an actual evil still confronting the world today.

About four years ago, a high school student in my church told me about an article she read about the millions of slaves still captive. I took in the information, reasoned it away (she must have misunderstood, the article must be talking in metaphors, etc.), and moved on with my life. Then slowly I became confronted with the realities of sex slavery, human trafficking, child soldiers, forced labor, and other forms of human captivity. And here's the worst part: it's going on in the U.S. In mass quantities. In massage parlors and private homes and karaoke bars and all sorts of places. I could probably point to five places on my street.

I got more information. And I got more overwhelmed.

Any guesses how many people are slaves today? 27 million. That's 3.5 million MORE people than live in the state of Texas. It's mind-boggling. Nearly 80 percent of these slaves are women and children. What do we do with those kinds of statistics?

We use our skills. We funnel our despair into action. We pray for opportunities. It's been four years for me, trying to make sense of it, trying to find a way to help. It all converged on Sunday night. I met two students who want to help and a couple already doing work to identify trafficking rings and sites. I'm in a small group that just spent the whole summer discussing topics of social justice and the Bible's call to action and compassion. I work in an activist-oriented academic office at a major university and serve as an officer for a student organization that could become anything we want it to be. I'm good at research, organizing and motivating people, and disseminating information. I'm well-versed in my responsibilities as a Christian to be a part of the liberating work of Christ (with divine help), in feminist theory, in historical activism, and in the importance of boundaries when you're involved in social justice.

I'm telling you all this because I want you to ask me in 2 months how it's all going. In 6 months, in a year, in 5 years. By then I could be on my way to a country where trafficking is a major industry or I could be teaching students how to get involved in global abolitionism. Or I could have forgotten about this moment, when it all seemed so important and so necessary and so doable.

I always thought that if I knew about slavery in the early U.S. or knew about the Holocaust, I would oppose it and do what I could to end it. So here I am, fearfully aware of genocide and slavery, and I'm ready to be an abolitionist. I'm going to start small, I'm going to pace myself. But I'm ready.

And God does not call the equipped... God equips those He calls.



"The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives..."
(Isaiah 61:1)

Spectating

Thanks to the always-free Miller Outdoor Theater, college night at Robertson Stadium, and season tickets at the Wortham Theater, I saw the Dominic Walsh company, the Dynamo, and the Houston Ballet this weekend for the low, low price of $22.50. One of the many reasons I love Houston: it has so much to offer and if pursued creatively, it's totally affordable to do cool things.



I love modern dance for a lot of reasons, primarily because it's out of the box. Half the time I'm scratching my head trying to figure out what it's trying to say, but it's always intriguing. Dance should say something. It should be happy and sad and political and emotional.

Speaking of political and emotional, this was my first time at a live MLS game, and it was a blast. Soccer is a lot more suspenseful than most sports, in my opinion. And although my boyfriend spent half the time explaining the game to me (I didn't actually realize they switched goals after the break), I think I mostly understand it. Just like people often don't see the athleticism in dance, they often fail to see the artistry in sports. Most of the fans may have cared about the score, but I kept noticing the "choreography" of the footwork and collisions and jumps.

And you just have to love classical ballet. If you don't love it, I'm sorry. It's so beautiful and refined and makes you want to be a dancer when you grow up, no matter how old you are. At least go see the Nutcracker this Christmas, people.