So I've spent the majority of my life tiptoeing around other people's feelings. In the past, one could say I would rather immolate myself than offend someone. 

No more.

I still think it's important to disagree respectfully, not deliberately incite others, admit fault readily, and be willing to see both sides of a disagreement ... but there's nothing to be gained from playing nice 24/7. I did it for 30 years and this is what I learned from it: People will walk all over you, and make you feel guilty about it.

By being Ms. Nice Girl, I gained:
1.) everyone's good opinion
2.) lots of superficial acquaintances
3.) LOADS of self-doubt

Well, I'm sick of that crap. I don't care if everybody likes me. Superficial acquaintances are about as useful as sprinkles on my ice cream sundae - sometimes I like them, but if they aren't there, it ain't the end of the world. Self-doubt sucks.

Ergo, time for a change of philosophy. Time for a slightly thicker skin. If this means I lose some "friends" in the process, I am fine with this. Good riddance. In fact, remove yourself from my life and save me the trouble. Sheesh.

This past year, I have had the opportunity to discover firsthand where "evil" comes from. I think it has given me a lot more empathy for the human condition, though I haven't quite come up with any solutions for the problem of ridding the world of it yet. Nothing that's feasible anyway. But I feel like a better understanding of it is a step in the right direction. 

See, for most of my life I've been a total idealist. Idealism is nice and good, and there is definitely a place for it in the world. But I mean that I was an idealist without any hint of realism... which is frankly insane. I focused on the bright side to the extent that I managed to totally ignore the "dark side" - as if it didn't even exist. (And heaven forfend I learn from it!)

That was until this past year, when something happened that was so painful and awful that it was impossible to ignore. And in the months following, I discovered that "evil" arises only from a person who has been grievously hurt -- emotionally maimed. I don't mean that I turned into a horrible person - in fact, I think I behaved in a nearly saintly (albeit kind of stupid, since I don't want to be a martyr) manner - but I learned that I, too, have the potential for "evil." Yes, even me - the freaking nicest person on the planet. (That is a bit of an exaggeration... but I have always been ridiculously nice. To the point where it is often detrimental to my well-being.)  Prior to June 2011, I could honestly say that I had never hated anyone. I couldn't imagine wishing harm on anyone. 

After 2011, I experienced true seething hatred for the first time in my life. Although I acted outwardly in much the same way I always did (the occasional snarky comment being the extent of my expression of anger), I allowed myself to acknowledge - for the first time - my negative feelings. Honestly, it took me about 8 months to *really* admit to myself that I absolutely, completely, totally HATED two people that I used to deeply love. I despised them with every atom of my being. Not only that, I actively wished all sorts of horrible fates upon them, none of which I felt compared to even an iota of the agony they'd inflicted on me. The vehemence of this hatred and the mercilessness of my desire for their equal suffering surprised and horrified me. It was shocking that I could feel such loathing or think such awful thoughts. I knew that part of me would rejoice if they died in a fiery car crash... or better yet, one of them died and the other one survived, horribly maimed. I didn't think myself capable of ever feeling that way. It was terrifying... but when it wasn't terrifying, it was kind of fascinating. And deeply sad. 

Now I tend to think that we *all* have that potential, and people who face truly awful circumstances (some entirely inflicted upon a person by others through no fault of his/her own and objectively - by anyone's standards - grossly inhumane, but also sometimes created at least in part by the sufferer's own actions and objectively pretty inconsequential but targeted on areas made particularly vulnerable by various factors - but all deeply traumatic in different ways) get to gaze into the heart of darkness. And I honestly think that if those kinds of situations persist, people adapt by letting the worst parts of themselves take over. Only people who have suffered greatly and persistently are capable of true "evil." (Though I'm willing to admit that there are some people who are just born sociopaths; folks whose wiring was just wrong because of a bad deal in the genetic lottery... but I reckon they are few and far between.)  Usually, after the worst of the pain abates, people are able to find their way back to hope and optimism, which is enough to keep the demons at bay. But when I was suffering the most and it felt like the pain would never abate, I could definitely see down a road that ended in me turning into the kind of person who could do things I never in my wildest dreams thought myself capable of. Ten years ago, I never would have thought that road existed on my map. But it definitely does. I think it exists on everyone's.

Fortunately I have been spared the kind of pain that forces me down that road... but I haven't been spared the pain that lets me see that it exists.

And I think that insight can help me in many ways. It can help me empathize with "evil" people and understand their pain without judging them outright. It can also help me be wary of the existence of evil in the world. People can be truly dangerous, and prior to this year, I think I was frighteningly naive. It's a miracle I haven't gotten myself killed always expecting the best of people and too-readily forgiving them or condemning myself in their stead. I suppose I have been fortunate enough not to cross paths with truly evil people. Seeing my own darkness helps me take care with people - both to assess them more realistically and also to do my best to behave in ways that do no harm to others. Part of that care means a kind of "tough love" - speaking bravely and honestly to avoid misunderstandings, standing up for myself and acknowledging that my needs are worth consideration, and handling situations with potentially dangerous people with much more awareness and caution. 

And also feeling more fully human. Not like a cardboard cutout of a fairytale princess who never has any negative feelings. I still strive toward the kind of enlightenment that allows me to transcend anger entirely... but I realize that such a state is a far cry from where I am now, and trying to act as if I'm a freaking Buddha when I've hardly taken a step down that path only gets me into trouble.  Ah, humility. You make me better.

Anyway, for now - sleep.

So I've been having a lot of religious chats lately. I suspect this is happening for two reasons:

1.) I've been following the GOP nomination process and social issues have been a big subject of debate. Inevitably, this discussion leads to religion, since it seems a lot of the political stances that the GOP candidates are taking are religiously based.
2.) I have a newfound rage against people who victimize, oppress, or otherwise do violence against others by behaving selfishly, self-righteously, judgmentally, or cruelly. Undoubtably, this is a direct result of feeling betrayed and totally taken advantage of by two particular people, so any time I see someone essentially immolating another person, all of the fury I felt about that situation resurfaces and I want to come to the defense of the vulnerable party with all my guns blazing.

In the past (teenage years/mid-twenties), I will willingly admit that I took a pretty judgmental stance against the devoutly religious. I definitely said on multiple occasions that belief in the Bible as the literal word of God is the stupidest thing imaginable. I sincerely wondered if religious people had some sort of mental deficit. I deliberately picked fights with people in order to challenge their beliefs and imply that they were morons because they held them. At times I ardently wished (and would have prayed, if I thought that would have any impact whatsoever) that they would spontaneously stop being so idiotic and realize that their beliefs are totally nonsensical. 

I'm not particularly proud of that but, heck, it is what it is. We all do dumb things when we are young. It never got so bad that I wouldn't save religious person from an oncoming truck, nor did it ever prevent me from being friends with someone who was religious and relatively private about it. I didn't form hate groups or try to burn down churches or anything. (In fact, I have always appreciated the beauty of churches, religious art, and music.) It was never hateful but it was definitely prideful behavior -- motivated by the desire to prove people "wrong" with my superior insight and intellect. (Holy hypocrisy, Batman!)

As I've gotten older, learned more about various religions, had some very rewarding conversations with religious people about their beliefs, and learned in general how affecting one's home culture is on thinking patterns (we are all indoctrinated in certain ways), I have thankfully become less critical of religious people and learned to see some value in religious tradition and community. Now, I could absolutely care less if you believe every word of the Bible literally or if you believe that the StayPuft Marshmallow Man invented the universe, as long as you use your beliefs to better yourself and be kind to others. 

AS LONG AS YOU USE YOUR BELIEFS TO BETTER YOURSELF AND BE KIND TO OTHERS being the operative words. Lately, the issue of religion has resurfaced for me in a big way, and some of my old anger about religious belief has been rekindled. It's not the beliefs themselves that get me riled up - it's what people choose to DO with them. Lately I've been reading headlines about teenagers who bully gay classmates so mercilessly that they kill themselves. I've been watching news reports about truly absurd legislation that drastically reduces the rights of women to make decisions about their own healthcare. I've heard politicians talking about America, which was founded on the concept of religious liberty, as if it were exclusively a "Christian nation." I see fundamentalist groups pushing for non-scientific material to be put into science textbooks and taught in science classrooms in public schools. I see gay couples struggling to get equal protection under the laws of this country - in tax code, in death benefits, even in hospital visitation rights, never mind DOMA. To me, it is oppression - plain and simple - and the only justification that the oppressors give is, "God wills it." 

IT PISSES ME OFF. I get outright enraged. I want to throttle all of those people who are so grievously wronging their fellow citizens in the name of religion and bash them repeatedly over the heads with their Bibles, Qur'ans, or whatever religious paraphernalia I can get my hands on. Part of me understands that the degree of this anger is partially misdirected from my own anger at myself for allowing people to utterly abuse me and the desire to right this wrong in some universal way. 

But an important point remains. 

If people are going to wield their religious beliefs with a political agenda aimed at changing the choices and behavior of others based solely on the controversial words of an archaic book that supposedly dictates the will of God, it is only natural that their logic would be questioned. The only reason religious belief is "under attack" is because people are using it for questionable purposes.

See, I'm fine with having a debate about abortion rights based on the legal precedent in this country that we must protect the rights of every person to live (and defining when a fetus becomes a person is part of that). I'm fine with engaging with someone about who can be married according to law if those debates are based on psychological and sociological research indicating that certain unions are detrimental to individuals or society. It's appropriate to discuss what the founding values of America are, and whether our laws are faithful to them. And so on. If a person's position is motivated by a belief in a moral code set forth by a deity that they worship, that's fine. Just gather some *other* evidence to support that position and enter the arena. 

Any time someone brings, "But God says..." into a discussion of how we should run this country, my hackles go up. It's fine if you believe that God says something or other. Take those guidelines into consideration and live your own life accordingly. Find people who agree and form a community trying to live according to "God's law" (which hopefully doesn't involve bombing the shit out of anyone who doesn't agree). However, the reality is that nobody alive today (or possibly ever) has heard God talk in any definitive (totally objective, verifiable) way. We have no idea what God *actually* says - or if God "says" anything at all. Individuals can be beholden to what they believe God wants, but any society that was not founded as a theocracy can't. (And I'd argue that theocratic societies are largely oppressive, unjust, and detrimental to human well-being based on - you guessed it - anecdotal evidence and research.) It is absolutely unreasonable and unconscionable to use your interpretation of what God wants to restrict the rights of others, and you damn well better expect some serious resistance (which often takes the form of criticism of your beliefs) if you attempt to.

If we look across the board at most of the major religions, they have several things in common. They stress love, kindness, personal accountability, charity, goodness. Any society that truly advances rights to "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" (human well-being) will be motivated to enact legislation that punishes people who act in ways that are contrary to love, kindness, personal accountability, charity, and goodness. We enforce consequences for murder (with allowances for self-defense), theft, vandalism, obstruction of justice, deceit, etc. We even go so far as to provide incentives for people to behave in ways that promote their own well-being, provided it is not at the expense of someone else's. This can be undertaken entirely without divine guidance - it's just common sense (though some would argue that the motivation for any good thing has divine impetus, which is fine). Of course there will always be some debate about the repercussions of legislation; sometimes laws which are enacted in good conscience have unforeseen negative consequences that outweigh their intended benefits... in which case it is time to re-think and revise. (The line we should draw between personal liberty and governmental authority is a legitimate debate, but that does not invalidate a government's mandate - by existing in the first place - to advance the well-being of its citizens without discrimination.) 

However, when religion is brought into the discussion, things immediately start going haywire. We get attempts to deny gay couples (two consenting adults) the right to marry because "God says" what they do with each other's bodies in the privacy of their bedroom is a sin. We get attempts to drastically reduce the rights of institutions that legitimately provide preventative healthcare to women if they provide abortions because "God says" life beings at the moment of conception. (Never mind that what "God says" is an issue of debate even among homogeneous religious communities.)  On the more extreme end of the spectrum, we get women being stoned to death for relatively insignificant offenses because "God wills it," suicidal terrorists flying planes into buildings because "God will reward them forever in heaven for killing the infidels," and gangs of hateful people murdering others whose lifestyles "God" disapproves of. In short - BULLSHIT. And what is even bigger bullshit is that the people we entrust to protect our rights don't call bullshit on that kind of talk IMMEDIATELY. Worse yet, they actually engage in it themselves, trying to prove themselves more righteous, more holy, more... what exactly?  Because they only prove themselves more misguided, and that's not a competition anyone wants to win.

I'm not saying we can't debate abortion. I'm not saying we can't debate gay marriage. I'm not saying we can't debate healthcare law. All of those things are fair game. But leave God out of it. Base arguments on research, logic, historical precedent, Constitutional mandate. There's plenty of room for debate with those things alone! When you start playing the "God says" game - no one wins. God doesn't come down and take sides, and there is no higher authority. There is, in short, no way to resolve the debate... and that is unsatisfactory. At least when we are relying on the latest human understanding of issues, 99% of the time, there is a clear winner. That winner might change as our knowledge grows - in which case we need to re-visit and revise - but we usually don't reach a total stalemate. (A stalemate which usually involves lots of red-faced finger-pointing about who is or isn't going to Hell. WASTE OF TIME.)

So, I'd like to appeal to all people in the world (for what it's worth!) - those I know & love and those I don't - to think carefully about whether your actions or positions restrict the rights of others or diminish their humanity in any way. If they do, reconsider. Because honestly I don't like getting pissed off, but one thing I've learned is that getting pissed off when you're wronged or when you see wrong being done is better than rolling over and letting it go on unacknowledged or unchecked.

So, having worked for a paltry two weeks at an inner-city charter school, I have found myself reflecting quite a lot about how to best work with these kids. They are, to put it gently, a challenge. I have never seen such open disregard for authority, talking back, willful defiance (mostly on the part of the boys), and attitude (mostly on the part of the girls). (To be frank, I *much* prefer naughty male students to sassy female students; goodness gracious those girls are bitches in the making!) And I'm in 3rd and 4th grade classrooms. But one thing is certain: working with them even this small amount of time, I have found the idea that they are more than capable of everything the rich and privileged kids are capable of absolutely true. These kids do not suffer from any deficit of intelligence, creativity, interest, or ability. In fact, they have amazed me in uncountable really humbling ways. For instance: when discussing the first chapter of Holes by Louis Sachar, I asked one kid (4th grade, African-American boy who wants to be an athlete and a scientist) to draw a picture of Camp Green Lake. He did, and I was momentarily confused by his picture of a water-filled lake surrounded by trees. (If you've read Holes, you'll remember that Camp Green Lake doesn't have a lake; the boys in the book dig holes in the dry lakebed.) When I asked him to explain his picture, the boy said, "I drew a picture of the camp 100 years ago. Well, actually it was probably closer to 120 years ago, since it says in the book that the lake dried up 100 years ago, so this would have had to have been before that." Holy original thinking, Batman. This is just one example of uncountable instances of creative, inspired, and highly capable thinking going on in these kids' heads. 

At the same time, that boy is one of my biggest behavior challenges. He can't sit still. He interrupts class constantly with shouted-out comments. He gets into tussles with the other boys. His "notebook" is a mess - hardly a discernible page of note-taking anywhere. His great big creative brain is focused on everything BUT his schoolwork. Similarly there's one girl who is the absolute queen of the bitches. She is relentlessly confrontational, rude, and defiant, and she loves inciting other girls (who are too afraid of her not to comply) to gang up on others. When her teacher gives an instruction (such as "don't touch your pencils the first time that I read this; just listen") she will deliberately wave her pencil in the air, challenging him to call her out on it... and if he - or anyone else - does, she unfailing makes a huge scene and disrupts class. I want to strangle the everliving crap out of her 98% of the time... but she also totally fascinates me. In her household of mostly girls, that sort of behavior is the norm, and she's learned it with - objectively - an admirable amount of skill and precociousness. As a fourth grader, she's climbed to the top of the bitch hill, an achievement which - in her world - is probably much more valuable than bringing home A+ papers. How to make her see that her world isn't the whole word? (That's especially hard with kids and adolescents, who are often self-centered by default.)

I begin to understand some of their confrontation and "disrespectful" behavior. There is a dog-eat-dog culture in that school, and the kids are - to a certain extent - in survival mode. They are tough as nails - ten times tougher than I will probably ever be - and in that environment, they have a decided advantage. They aren't disruptive and confrontational because they're "bad" kids; they just know that if they don't stand up for themselves, they'll get eaten alive. At that school, it is best to be 1) invisible, or 2) a fighter. I have seen this happen a hundred times: one kid will say something rude to another, and the other kid has to bite back harder. This rapidly escalates into a contest of one-upmanship, so neither kid seems weak. It's sort of like Lord of the Flies. (Oh! Idea! What a great book to read with them to prompt discussion around this! ... or maybe a more age-appropriate alternative. I haven't read that one in a while and I seem to recall it's pretty brutal and possibly too advanced vocabulary-wise for 4th graders...) It's really amazing how secondary the learning agenda and the teachers/administrators are in this dynamic. And the kids are so used to this system that they can't really internalize how it could be different, and how their individual behavior is instrumental in making it different. (But it doesn't work unless the majority is both, 1) on the same page about behavioral expectations and, 2) supported by enough authority to ensure that individual courage in the face of inappropriate behavior doesn't just end in symbolic martyrdom.) How can I help to tilt the balance, especially when the kids often leave school and enter into an environment where they *have* to play by different rules -- unlike in the school building where the contest is for "saving face" -- on the real streets, sometimes nothing less than their lives are at stake? It's really devaluing the importance of their survival skills when we just classify this behavior as "disruptive" or the kids as "hopeless cases." If I had to live in the inner city, you can bet I'd rather have one of these kids at my side rather than a middle-class suburbanite kid who's memorized the periodic table or all the U.S. presidents. Teachers from different backgrounds have to remember that the majority of the world lives in situations much closer to these kids' lives (poverty, conflict, survival-of-the-fittest, subject to myriad influences - warring tribes, economic limitations, unstable governments, disease without adequate medical care, for instance) than what we've come to understand is the norm: tidy, well-groomed enclaves of prosperity, idealism, and instant gratification.

One thing I suspect is that the kids respond best to strength and consistency. The only way they feel safe yielding to adult governance is if the adult proves to them that he/she won't stand for any crap. The adult will not tolerate rude behavior or meanness, period. If the adult can stop it before it starts - or, if it starts, stop it dead in its tracks - EVERY TIME - the kids begin to relax their defenses and are willing to yield some control. I have always been such a "compassionate" person that I tend not to stop bad behavior dead in its tracks. I make excuses for it. The reality is that you can - and should - always make an effort to understand why people act the way they do (with the assumption that they are not evil or stupid or bad or wrong), but simultaneously make it clear that certain things are simply not acceptable around you. This is a difficult lesson for me. I have a rubber backbone. But recent events have helped me realize that I do no one any favors by having a rubber backbone... and I have begun to process of changing. But it's not easy. And in the meantime, I am not doing these kids any favors. 

Anyway, aside from what I can do in the context of my current job, I'm thinking about how best to work with (I originally wrote "help" but that seemed kind of condescending... I do mean help, but I don't mean it condescendingly, without regard for the value of the skills these kids have in their own personal contexts) these kids in a larger context. Namely - society as a whole. We certainly can't ignore the plight of kids (and adults) growing up and living in what are essentially sub-human conditions. But what can we do as individuals and as a society to "fix" these kinds of problems without erring on the side of dystopia? How do we make life for people better without trying to make people "better" in one fell swoop - and ending up with a Republic of Gilead, Reavers, or a society like The Giver? How do we "carry the fire" when we walk into worlds like The Road without martyring ourselves?   

TBC...

I forgot to check back at previous entries and see what day "brain rewiring day" it is. Ultimately, it doesn't matter.

GRATITUDE:
1. Humility. Geez, sometimes I am really bad at working with high-need kids. I do not do everything right by any stretch of the imagination, despite the fact that I want to and I'm trying my best to. It is a great learning opportunity.
2. Family!  Mom, Dad, Snarf, and the pups and I are all together for Easter. It is great fun.
3. Debate. I've been thinking a lot about my views on politics and religion lately... and especially the intersection of the two. While I've no doubt pissed people off with my ruminations, I think it has been a positive thing... and will be the subject of my "reflection" post today.

REFLECTION:
It is a positive experience to do some soul-searching. I wasn't raised with any religious affiliation, mostly due to a conscious decision by my mother to let me make up my own mind about what to believe without indoctrinating me into any tradition. (My father is an atheist, though he never once brought up the subject of God - or whether he/she/it exists - that I recall.) I went to church with my friends when I felt like it or they invited me. I can recite the Lord's Prayer from memory because we always used to say it before football games when I was on the drill team in Texas. I have a few devoutly religious friends who I love. I am a huge fan of C.S. Lewis's nonfiction theological writings, I think gospel music rules, and I play the Hallelujah chorus on repeat for hours. I have read papal encyclicals. I have researched Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Buddhism. I went to an audience given by Pope John Paul II in Vatican City. Beauty like the Creation of Adam fresco in the Sistine Chapel is holy in my eyes... despite the fact that I don't put any stock in the biblical creation narrative. At one point I seriously considered converting to Catholicism. I own a copy of the Bible that I treat as reverently as I do my other books. When one of my friends died in a car accident in high school and my mom left her rosary at the accident site, I bought her another one for Christmas from the somewhat creepy Catholic paraphernalia store. I celebrate Christmas, and have attended religious services on Christmas Eve. I have fervently prayed multiple times in my life. I still acknowledge my own helplessness and mortality every time I fly on a plane in the form of what can only be described as a prayer. (It is probably also part superstition.) My sisters are both atheists. I am not. But I am not religious, either. I occasionally succumb to my frustration with staunchly religious people who are impervious to logic and therefore impossible to reason with and proclaim traditional religious faith "stupid!" or "ignorant!" ... but I always try to remember my Catholic friend Teresa who is the polar opposite of stupid or ignorant. I think many good things have arisen from organized religion - community-building, the idea of religious tolerance which I can probably thank for the fact that I haven't been stoned yet for not being part of a church, ritual as a concrete reminder of philosophy-in-practice, humanitarian efforts when no other social institution had any motivation to undertake them, and beautiful edifices like churches (which I totally love... only the Gothic ones and the cute country chapels, though. Not a fan of the modern "malls of God"). I also think it has done - and continues to do - many terrible things. I am horrified by the Crusades, the Inquisition, and the burning of alleged witches. Nothing can convince me that "homosexuality is a sin" is a morally justifiable position or that denying people equal rights under the law based on their sexual orientation is anything less than barbaric. My relationship with faith is complex and deeply personal, but I am not a member of any organized religion for several reasons, both rational and irrational (purely emotional):

1. I find fault with the prospect of putting my absolute faith in any document written hundreds of years ago by human beings in a language I cannot fluently read and which has been mistranslated and heavily edited through the centuries. I will not accept it as the basis for my worldview, especially when it is internally contradictory, rife with cruelty, murder, judgment, and intolerance (in addition to some good things), and the veracity of the claims made therein about the nature/existence of God cannot be reliably verified. I'm referring mostly to the Bible because I know the most about it, but the same principle would hold true for any other "holy" book. 

2. While I think many religions have interesting things to say about the prospect of God, I don't believe that any of them have claim to exclusive truth. I don't think any human being, attribute, or institution has claim to exclusive truth, including reason and science. I also think the idea of certainty about uncertain things and about things which we do not have a means to "prove" is dangerous and reductive. Being unwilling to admit to the possibility of error in any of your beliefs or judgments make it considerably easier to label different views as "wrong" and dehumanize the people who hold them. If God *is*, our interpretations of who/how/what God is have no bearing whatsoever on the truth of its existence. I think my interpretation of God has just as much potential to be true as "institutionalized" interpretation of God... but I don't share the confidence required by most faiths that one or the other is the way God ACTUALLY is. I have no idea what - or if - God actually is. That is why I'm not an atheist, either, because that would require me to believe that there is no God. I don't, and I think atheists often fall into the same trap that religious people do - claiming exclusive truth. Lack of proof is not proof that God doesn't exist... it just means we don't yet (or possibly ever) have the means to find proof.

3. I really dislike the idea of personifying God. I don't believe that people were made in the image of God (except in the most general sense), I don't believe people are "closer" to God, valued more by God than any other form of life or granted a divine mandate to exploit the natural world, I don't believe that God would have a "chosen people" or demand that people only use one path to get to heaven... if heaven exists. I don't think God intervenes in human affairs and I don't think God "listens" to our prayers or conspires to lure us to or bar us from a celestial ever-after based on conditional belief. I think we are really limited by attempting to make God in OUR image; we miss the opportunity to think of him/her/it outside of consciousness, gender, form, or life as we know it. I think the most powerful kind of love is respecting and seeing value in things that are completely apart from ourselves. Any God that is described as being vengeful, angry, demanding, intolerant, or even loving in the strictly human sense sounds to me like a human conceit, not like a divine being, and I am thoroughly uncomfortable with the idea of the worship of such a being becoming central to decisions about how I should live my life. I'm not against trying to "know" God in more personal terms, or try to describe God's "personality" if some people feel like they need that kind of connection, and I realize that that's what a lot of organized religion (especially the Jesus story) is about. I understand that a lot of people find comfort in imagining the bearded face of a Jesus who looks like they do, being enfolded in his arms, crying on his shoulder, looking into his eyes. They like tangible tokens of religious symbolism. I'm cool with that, if that's what gives them comfort. But it doesn't work for me. To be perfectly honest, it kind of creeps me out. I prefer to see God in the vivid colors of sunset, a canopy of spring-green leaves, the microscopic view of cells dividing, the pictures from the Hubble telescope, evidence of evolution, the fantastic diversity of the natural world... Those things remind me that God might be so.much.more than human beings. I also prefer to see God in every charitable, wholehearted, authentic, well-meaning, compassionate, and apologetic gesture made by individual human beings. I prefer to see God in the remarkable and beautiful things human beings can accomplish through teamwork and community. These things makes me feel connected to all life and all "creation" in a profoundly compassionate and humbling way. It makes me feel huge and tiny at the same time. And when I try to confine that feeling to the pages of the Bible or the image of a man hanging from a cross, I feel limited. I squirm. It feels WRONG. It feels like a lie, or at least a half-truth. That being said, I don't argue with other people's right to believe in what they feel, too. I don't think my way is the only way. If people need a human face to put on God and that belief makes them good, kind, charitable, tolerant, self-disciplined, forgiving, authentic, happy people - that's great. It's only when it makes them judgmental, hateful, angry, or defensive when confronted with contravening evidence that I take issue with it.

4. The crucifixion/resurrection narrative doesn't resonate with me at all. I don't find it inspirational or noble or beautiful; I think it is disturbing. I am repelled by the idea of anyone having to suffer to "redeem the sinners;" I think it is disgusting and unnecessary and - again - it sounds more like a human invention than a stroke of divine genius or charity. I realize that that statement will get people up in arms immediately, defending their interpretations and explaining to me with patronizing patience (or even pity of my unenlightened state which will cause them to condescendingly tell me that they are praying for my soul and hoping that something will happen to me to force me to finally see the "truth") how inevitable everything was, and how it justifies bad things happening and that persevering through them with Christlike patience, docility, and love is the model for a spiritual perfection we should all strive for. (And lots of other justifications that I didn't include in that very quick summary.) Well, I disagree. I disagree with the fundamental premise - that human beings are sinners who must be "saved" by a Christ figure to be worthy of a hypothetical heaven. YES, I think human beings are flawed... but I think our imperfection is part of our design, not a fallen state. I don't buy the Eden narrative at all, and I don't believe in the heaven that is described in the Bible or in the hell of the superstitious rantings of Revelations. I don't believe in Satan. I also don't buy the "Jesus as son of God sent to us because we can't have any connection with God otherwise, and if we don't believe that we're rejecting God and the selfless sacrifice of his son" argument that underlies that story. I realize the apologetics are infinitely less dismissive and more nuanced, but fundamentally that's what the Jesus narrative is about. Ultimately, I think it is kind of ridiculous that saying, "I believe Jesus is the son of God who suffered and died to redeem me" is somehow more important than how you behaved in your life. I absolutely do not accept the idea that - if heaven exists and there is a figure like God who passes ultimate judgement - being good, generous, kind, tolerant, charitable, gentle, helpful, empathetic, loving, and productive (granted, with failings and mistakes just like everyone else) would not qualify you for "eternal life in the kingdom of heaven" without a profession of faith in Jesus as son of God. Trying to be the best person you can be day-in and day-out with a loving heart seems to me infinitely more important than toeing some doctrinal line. I think the most important lessons from Jesus came from how he LIVED, not the circumstances surrounding his fantastical birth, death and supposed resurrection. To me, the crucifixion is more indicative of the inhuman things we can do to one another if we're divided over ideas of God and/or if Machiavellian power is threatened by a grassroots up-swelling of love and goodwill. I also struggle to find inspiration in the selfless death of a figure who came into the world knowing he would live briefly then suffer and die temporarily, only to be resurrected and live forever in the glory of God. I find much more inspiration in people who have no assurances, but who face the less pleasant vicissitudes of life with a mixture of courage, hope, and the backbone to fight for the right to live, provided their fight and continued way of life harms no one and helps as many people as possible. I have never liked the "turn the other cheek" philosophy, even though it profoundly affected my life and my decisions... the the point where I did just that, and discovered firsthand what little use it is. I don't advocate for "hit back" or "hit first" -- but I'm all about, "step away and say, 'I won't allow that to happen again.'" I tend to think that people who are eager for martyrdom or who are resigned to oppression or injustice because they believe passivity is the proper way to "love" one's "enemy" are mentally ill, not devout. 

5. I reject the idea that religion is the source of all morality. I think "if an action harms someone in any way - including oneself - there is probably a better way" is a highly functional system of morality that has nothing to do with God. I also much prefer the idea of doing right for the sake of doing right - here and now, and for no other reason - to the threat of punishment in hell or reward in heaven. I think right behavior is an end in itself, not a means to an end. I also tend to believe that right action has immediate reward and wrong action has immediate consequence, even if they are not easily perceived; getting to a state of mind where hurting others becomes a real possibility means you already dwell in a place of punishment, simply because I think people who are truly happy and loving are not capable of hurting others or themselves. As Paulo Freire says, in an unjust system, the oppressors suffer as much as the oppressed because their humanity is perverted or stunted, and in fighting against injustice, the oppressed work to restore the dignity of everyone. Turning the other cheek allows the oppressor to continue unopposed with his/her oppression, to the detriment of all.  

6. I am staunchly against an evangelical agenda. I think it's fine to "preach the gospel" to believers, and to leave the door open, so to speak, for people to come in and hear the teachings of a certain religion if it appeals to them or they are "led" to it, but I DESPISE the idea of purposefully going into a country or region that has its own religious beliefs and cultural history and trying to "convert the natives." I find it pompous and disrespectful to an inhumane degree, and religions with a long evangelical history kind of piss me off by default. I also get desperately annoyed by religious people who barge into secular spaces to preach the gospel in hopes of converting people. Newsflash: very few people in a modern nation have never heard the narratives of the major religions. They choose not to believe them for a reason, and religious people need to respect that. It's interesting to think about in reference to my own support of the Vipassana meditation tradition, which is a completely non-sectarian, non-religious (though it is often mistakenly conflated with Buddhism because it was allegedly discovered by Go(u)tama Buddha) technique. I have attended two 10-day retreats and they have been really life-altering in different ways, and I left both with a profound desire for everyone to experience the kind of peace and happiness that I found there. In that vein, I have donated money to the non-profit teaching group that hosts 10-day retreats to continue to fund opportunities for others who are interested in attending can do so free of charge. I have also told people about my experience at the retreat and how enlightening it was, how it impacted my life for the better. In many ways, I think evangelism is motivated by this feeling, a wish for genuine goodwill (metta) for all beings. However, the big difference between Vipassana and most religious beliefs is that religious traditions promote the acceptance of certain "already revealed" truths, whereas Vipassana is merely a technique designed to help people find truth within themselves. One of the fundamental precepts of the Vipassana tradition is "if it has no tangible benefit for you, don't believe it." You aren't supposed to believe anything that you cannot internally verify as truth - no matter if your mentor, teacher, friend, lover, whoever - tells you it's true. If you don't feel it, if you don't experience it, don't believe it. Religious evangelism doesn't require internal validation. It just says, "This is the truth. If you don't believe it, [insert consequence generally having to do with eternal damnation here]." I'm sure that many people find truth in the religious narratives; they consider them personally relevant and transformative. But not everyone. I find it really insulting when people tell me, "Oh, you just don't understand Jesus yet," or "You haven't let Jesus into your heart." Pardon me, but F*CK THAT. I have never been close-minded to religion or religious narratives - they've just never resonated with me. I'm not built that way. And if it's remotely true that God created people, then God made me this way... and he/she/it "knows" that there are other ways to reach me. I am always reminded of the part in Kingdom of Heaven where the Muslim forces (led by two very devout but rational and noble people) are attacking Jerusalem on principle and Balian and his Christian defenders are faced with a pile of the fallen. Balian proposes burning the bodies, and the Christian priest objects loudly, claiming their souls will go to hell if they aren't given a Christian burial. Balian responds simply, "Your Grace, if we don't burn these bodies, half of the city will be dead of disease in two days. God will understand. And if he doesn't, then he is not God, and we need not worry." Personally, I choose to believe that many of the things people claim God rejects has more to do with their personal biases than anything else, and if God "does not understand" different perspectives reached in careful consideration and goodwill, then he is not God... and we need not worry. 

These are my personal beliefs, things I've come to through lots of careful reflection, openness to experience, and discussion with others. I support other people's right to believe in different things, and try my best not to judge them... although I will take action to prevent them from using those beliefs to restrict the rights or impugn the dignity of people who don't share them. I do my best to carefully consider if any of my beliefs bias me against members of organized religion in ways that cause me to endorse legislation that would restrict their rights or impugn their dignity. 

One thing that really annoys me about religious people is that they often behave as if they have only one tool in their belts -- and if all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail. Suddenly everything is about God. I don't think that every discussion, development, debate, or action taken by other people is intended to either support or challenge my beliefs about God. I get agitated when anyone brings God into things that can be discussed without reference to God or what you believe about God. I have been more aware of my own tendency to do this lately, and have resolved not trumpet my beliefs just to get a rise out people. I have definitely done that in the past. I don't think posting this on a public website qualifies as trumpeting... it is there for people who happen across it, but my LJ doesn't have a huge readership; it is tucked away, not thrown in people's faces. 

GRATITUDE:
1. New beginnings
2. Reconnecting with family
3. The right things (resources, people, circumstances) happening at the right time.

REFLECTION:
Just when I was getting very frustrated with how to approach several "problem students" at my Americorps assignment, I found a blog (Single Dad Laughing - look it up) that reminded me of certain things that renewed my patience and compassion. Sometimes the world provides what you need most, and when it does -- be grateful.

Totally fell off the positive psychology bandwagon. Not going to berate myself about this. Going to pick myself up, dust myself off, and get back on the bandwagon with renewed commitment not to fall off. Will repeat this process if I fall off again.

GRATITUDE:
1. Humbling experiences. Nothing like having a smart-aleck 4th grader remind you that you can't immediately smooth over all behavior issues with a few empathetic words and a fancy degree.
2. NPR. I just love it.
3. Early bedtime, especially after a sleepless night. Sooooo goooood.

REFLECTION:
Teaching is rewarding solely for moments when you really make progress with a struggling student. It's amazing - no matter how much attitude they give you in the beginning, they are always SO THRILLED by their own accomplishments. It is endlessly inspiring... which is good, because sometimes you just want to throttle the attitude out of them! 

GRATITUDE:
1. Temporary insomnia. The dog woke me up at 1:30 and I've been up ever since, imagining my pet philanthropic project. Usually I hate being sleepless, so it's great to occasionally have a night that I can't sleep because I keep coming up with so many cool ideas.
2. The means to have family movie night. When I was a kid we were totally poor. I never would have guessed it because I never felt like I wanted for anything... but it's nice now to be able to go out all together whenever we want. This is possible solely because my parents work really hard, and always have.
3. Reminders. Today we did house-cleaning projects. I remember rather enjoying chore day (on the days that I didn't hate it) because I got to blast music and clean stuff at my own pace. Chore day reminds me that there's no point having stuff you don't like taking care of.

REFLECTION:
Starting my job (10 week assignment at a local charter school working with students on literacy stuff) tomorrow. I have no idea what it will be like, but I'm excited to take it as it comes. IT IS SO GOOD TO HAVE SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE TO DO WITH MY TIME. I really waste time when I don't have an agenda. No wonder retired people often give up the ghost after a few years of indulging themselves. Indulging myself has never made me particularly happy... but then again neither has totally sacrificing myself. The older I get, the more I respect and value BALANCE.

GRATITUDE:
1. The daffodils beside my bed. Thanks, Dad!
2. A day without anger.
3. Venting life frustrations with Carolanne.

REFLECTION:
Found out that my sister made it to the last round of interviews for a job that would pay her much closer to what she's worth than the current job, and is closer to her house. That's pretty awesome in and of itself... but I still hope she gets it!