Festival of Faiths –Sacred Journeys
Discovering the Self in Sacred Journey with the Other
I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.
Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed--
I, too, am America.
-Langston Hughes
The Other.
Two words as an African American woman I have always been made aware of. The other. Someone that does not fit into what society deems as the norm. It is us and you, you are part of them. Who are them? Those that do not fit into the majority. You are the other-Black, Latino, a woman, homosexual, etc. You are the other and every day you do not need to remind yourself that you are the other-each day that you wake up, you cannot out run your “otherness” because no matter where you go, there you are. These are weighty issues to cover and I was intrigued, wondering how the Festival of Faiths, an event, speaking in all truth and sincerity, is not typically occupied by “the others”, would cover these topics.
When I walked into the Festival of Faiths venue, my otherness was on full display. I am not just black. I am a rich chocolate, black. Not the pass the brown bag test black that at times squares well with those that are not others, but I am that reminder of a history that too often society wants to forget. I have a shirt that reads, “Descendent of a Field Negro…And Still I Rise", and I felt as if my full bloodline was on display. The vestibule area was very quiet with just a few people walking around, softly chatting, seemingly oblivious to the fact that “the other” had entered the space. Ironically, in dealing with this topic, out of all the chairs in the vestibule area, a White man chose to sit right next to me with his coffee and read through some literature. And I, I felt awkward. "Why sit next to me?" "Why not another seat? A million questions raced through my mind. “If I get up and leave will he be offended?” I certainly did not want to do that. We never spoke. Never said hello. Didn’t make small talk about the impending rainstorm. We were content in our silence although a million words were spoken between us. I am sure he was oblivious to the fact that I was having this internal struggle and most of it was centered on race. But that is what “the other” often does, question everything and then attempt to make the right choice after weighing all the options. I decided not to get up and move. We still never said one word to each other. After the enlightening session I questioned why two people just inches away from each other, were too afraid to remove the invisible barrier between them and say hello?
After my internal battle, the doors to the auditorium opened and I breathed a sigh of relief. I saw those that looked like me. If nothing else we had a few commonalities. I was relieved to see the familiar faces of Dr. François, Rev. Shull, and Rev. Harvey. Standing next to them were two women, Elizabeth Jones and Rev. Neichelle Guidry-Jones. In typical women fashion, it took me 3 seconds to size them up. They were beautiful, well put together, physically flawless and each had beautiful smiles. I was here to give a poem on gender equality and of course the first thing I noticed was their outer appearance. I was digging a bigger hole for my own issues. They say as a writer, most of the stuff you write is for you and clearly I needed the points of my poetry to seep somewhere deep into my subconscious. Before the session even started I already had an internal race battle and now as a woman, I did not ask either woman what they did for a living and their position on the panel but I did notice that Rev Guidry-Jones had on a stunning pair of tan pumps. (God help me.)
Before we made our way to the stage, Dr. Christopher Pramuk gave a lecture on Merton and Race. Truthfully, I am open to listening to anyone speak on any topics, because I am a firm believer that you can learn from anyone. But I must admit, I pay double close attention when someone that is not of a particular race, speaks to me about race. It is easy to write a paper, a poem, a book on race relations, it is another to actually see those words on the page manifest themselves and you are living it. I was pleased that every word Dr. Pramuk spoke, was solid and based in an understanding that he realized while he is not classified as “the other” he identifies with the struggles of the other. Often times that is all that most people need to know. You may not be “the other” but can you get in the trenches with "the other" and truly help “the other” bring about change? Not because you are white and I am black, not because you are man and I am a woman, not because you are rich and I am poor, not because you live in the East End and I live in the West End but because doing right is the right thing to do. Because compassion sees no color, because love crosses all barriers, because true concern for “the other” can level the playing field.
Following Dr. Parmuk’s lecture, we started our panel discussion. I stood on the stage and looked out into the audience. I saw 3 faces that looked like I did. I was painfully aware once again that even in this setting where the staff of the Center for Interfaith Relations had been so welcoming, kind, pleasant and encouraging, I knew that similar to that song on Sesame Street, “One of these kids are doing their own thing”, I was the kid doing my own thing and the spotlight was truly on me. Here goes nothing I thought. They can love it, hate it, boo me off the stage, clap wildly but I knew every word I placed on those pages were the truth and although the truth can be painful to face, it is by facing the truth that we begin a dialogue for true, authentic, organic change. My first poem was 10 and 2, a piece I wrote for my daughter that depicts the trials of a young, black person driving. Too often in our society, driving while black has been deemed a crime. The crowd was silent as I read. I did not know if they understood what I was saying not intellectually, of course, but on a fundamental level that these are the talks that we have with our children because we live in fear for their lives. My daughter is in college, has a 3.5 GPA, and has never been in trouble one day of her life. She is not what society would call “a thug” yet I fear for her life in these days. Not because she has done anything wrong but simply because she was born black. While having “the black talk” may be difficult, it is one that is needed. The panel quickly responded after my poem and provided great insight about police brutality and the church’s role in helping to deal with this issue. And yes, Dr. Francois said, we do have a role. As I paraphrase Rev. Harvey, “the church is moving from the prosperity gospel and it has to because now we have black bodies in the street.” As a person that not only attends church but also one that works at the church, I wholeheartedly agree. We cannot continue to have this feel good “churchianity”. Jesus was a revolutionary! Jesus stood up for the poor, the weak, the marginalized, etc. We cannot just have church as usual or the church will no longer be effective. The church isn’t just a place you attend to get your “praise on”. The church is not a night club or a social club. It’s a place that needs to be used to activate change!
We followed that discussion with a topic on Mass Incarceration after a poem that I read entitled, “Dancing to the Beat”. While not a long piece of poetry, it paints a clear picture that the prison system is now prison for profit and attempts to show the cyclical nature of the prison system. The prison system does not come alive after a person is sentenced. Because it is a well-oiled machine, the gears are being greased long before the person even enters the criminal system. Louisville, Kentucky recently made national news when it appeared in a PBS documentary on Frontline called Prison State. No matter how you attempt to hide dirty laundry, eventually it will start to smell and Louisville, Kentucky had the covers removed in that documentary. It showed two sides to this coin. While I do agree we do AMAZING things in Louisville, there is another side to this coin and one of those sides is 9th Street and beyond but primarily Beecher Terrace a pocket of Louisville that is overcome with despair, death, heartache and agony. Where 1 in 3 people will be caught up in the prison system. ONE IN THREE! That is beyond staggering. So sadly, we too, are a part of this machine. With this dialogue and the recent changes in the city, I pray we can overcome this and not just displace people, but transform people! If you want change, you do not simply move a problem, you deal with the fundamental, base level, all in your business so we can get to the bottom of it, problem. Moving generations of people who have known nothing but plight and poverty is not change. If you have cancer in your kidneys, and the doctor comes in and says, “We made a committee, we have the money and we have made a decision that WE feel is best for you. What are going to do is cut out the cancer and then MOVE IT to your liver.” You would look at that doctor as if they were crazy because the doctor is not dealing with the fundamental problem. The doctor can say we are going to remove the cancer but you need to stop smoking, drinking, start exercising, eating better, take your medicine, etc. That is more feasible but the doctor is dealing the BASE issues. Also, it shows a partnership. The doctor is going to do the medical part but the patient HAS to do their part. This analogy is being used to depict the gentrification currently going on in the city. The city can do its part, provide good housing, better schools, etc. WE have to do our part! This is not a finger pointing session because nine times out of ten you can ALWAYS point at yourself when a problem arises. We need to be co-laborers together! It is one thing to say you do not want to be a part of the prison system, it is another for you to continue to break the law. I can’t take a stand for bad behavior that is truly just bad behavior but I can take a stand for injustice. Black Lives do matter and they should matter first to us! Work together for change!
The final topic was on Gender. I read, "Ain’t I A Woman 2015", a play on Sojourner Truth’s famous poem, "Ain’t I A Woman". The poem covered women simply wanting gender equality. One thing that I loved that Rev. Guidry-Jones said was that as women we often speak of the trials of being a woman and do not celebrate our womanhood in all its glory. AMEN SISTER!!! Being a woman is hard, we often have to carry the weight of the world on our shoulders but I wouldn’t trade being a woman for anything in this world! I love everything about it and while we do need our struggle told, Rev. Guidry-Jones was correct that we also need to flip the coin over and like Paul Harvey used to say, “and now for the rest of the story.” She also spoke about the church assuming automatically that God is a man. When she said that I recalled a shirt that I read that said, “I met God. She’s black.” Talk about a double whammy! However, it did make me think, “Why haven’t I ever thought of God as woman?” Never once did that enter my mind. I suppose after all these years I have been conditioned to believe that God is a man and truthfully who is to say God even has a gender? Perhaps God just is and that is why God declares, “I am that I am!” Perhaps we need to take God out of the convenient box we place God in and just allow God to be. I am firm believer that I see God everywhere, in the trees, in the sunset, in the laughter of a child, in the tears of a mother, everywhere I turn I see God because God simply IS!
We finished the discussion with a question and answer session from the audience and I was thankful for that because I wondered if the audience received what was being said on the stage. From the questions and the discussions after the session ended I knew everything was well received. One woman stood up and asked, in regards to my poem 10 & 2, “Do people have conversations with their children that not all white people are bad people?” I believe these are two separate conversations because as a human being that is raising another human being, I also start from a place of love. No one is inherently bad or evil. I would be a part of the problem if I subscribed to that way of thinking. I do not need to have a conversation with my daughter about the goodness in people however, I do need to have a conversation with her about the reality of the world that she lives in. That she is the other and although we inherently know things should be equal and fair, as long as we are in this world, there are things we have to deal with. I have even had the “gender talk” with her before she headed off to college. Yes, it is true, that a woman’s clothes never ask for rape. Yes it is true, she should be able to go out and walk into her dorm room late at night without fear. Yes, she is woman hear her roar! However in the world we live in, we know the system so I have to teach her to be strong, proud of being a woman, proud of being a black woman but work within the system. Because the system is what is reality. So while she can burn her bras and wear a mini skirt as short as she desires, the moment something happens to her, God forbid, they do not see her, they see the skirt, they ask how many drinks she had, how many previous sexual partners, etc. The real question is, “Why do we still need to have these conversations in 2015 if this is a so called post racial world?” Ask Trayvon Martin, Mike Brown, Yvette Smith, Freddie Gray, Rekia Boyd, Eric Garner and countless others, if we have overcome our race issues in America? Another great question is, “Do those in the majority have these conversations with their kids about “the others”?” This is how you bring about change. Start the conversation! Open the dialogue. Trust that we truly have more in common than we will ever know and we will never know unless we start talking to one another, lay down our preconceived notions and do what I should have done when the white man sat down next to me before the session started. Simply say, “Hello. I am Hannah. Nice to meet you.” What a world of difference that could have made…
Discovering the Self in Sacred Journey with the Other
I, too, sing America.
I am the darker brother.
They send me to eat in the kitchen
When company comes,
But I laugh,
And eat well,
And grow strong.
Tomorrow,
I'll be at the table
When company comes.
Nobody'll dare
Say to me,
"Eat in the kitchen,"
Then.
Besides,
They'll see how beautiful I am
And be ashamed--
I, too, am America.
-Langston Hughes
The Other.
Two words as an African American woman I have always been made aware of. The other. Someone that does not fit into what society deems as the norm. It is us and you, you are part of them. Who are them? Those that do not fit into the majority. You are the other-Black, Latino, a woman, homosexual, etc. You are the other and every day you do not need to remind yourself that you are the other-each day that you wake up, you cannot out run your “otherness” because no matter where you go, there you are. These are weighty issues to cover and I was intrigued, wondering how the Festival of Faiths, an event, speaking in all truth and sincerity, is not typically occupied by “the others”, would cover these topics.
When I walked into the Festival of Faiths venue, my otherness was on full display. I am not just black. I am a rich chocolate, black. Not the pass the brown bag test black that at times squares well with those that are not others, but I am that reminder of a history that too often society wants to forget. I have a shirt that reads, “Descendent of a Field Negro…And Still I Rise", and I felt as if my full bloodline was on display. The vestibule area was very quiet with just a few people walking around, softly chatting, seemingly oblivious to the fact that “the other” had entered the space. Ironically, in dealing with this topic, out of all the chairs in the vestibule area, a White man chose to sit right next to me with his coffee and read through some literature. And I, I felt awkward. "Why sit next to me?" "Why not another seat? A million questions raced through my mind. “If I get up and leave will he be offended?” I certainly did not want to do that. We never spoke. Never said hello. Didn’t make small talk about the impending rainstorm. We were content in our silence although a million words were spoken between us. I am sure he was oblivious to the fact that I was having this internal struggle and most of it was centered on race. But that is what “the other” often does, question everything and then attempt to make the right choice after weighing all the options. I decided not to get up and move. We still never said one word to each other. After the enlightening session I questioned why two people just inches away from each other, were too afraid to remove the invisible barrier between them and say hello?
After my internal battle, the doors to the auditorium opened and I breathed a sigh of relief. I saw those that looked like me. If nothing else we had a few commonalities. I was relieved to see the familiar faces of Dr. François, Rev. Shull, and Rev. Harvey. Standing next to them were two women, Elizabeth Jones and Rev. Neichelle Guidry-Jones. In typical women fashion, it took me 3 seconds to size them up. They were beautiful, well put together, physically flawless and each had beautiful smiles. I was here to give a poem on gender equality and of course the first thing I noticed was their outer appearance. I was digging a bigger hole for my own issues. They say as a writer, most of the stuff you write is for you and clearly I needed the points of my poetry to seep somewhere deep into my subconscious. Before the session even started I already had an internal race battle and now as a woman, I did not ask either woman what they did for a living and their position on the panel but I did notice that Rev Guidry-Jones had on a stunning pair of tan pumps. (God help me.)
Before we made our way to the stage, Dr. Christopher Pramuk gave a lecture on Merton and Race. Truthfully, I am open to listening to anyone speak on any topics, because I am a firm believer that you can learn from anyone. But I must admit, I pay double close attention when someone that is not of a particular race, speaks to me about race. It is easy to write a paper, a poem, a book on race relations, it is another to actually see those words on the page manifest themselves and you are living it. I was pleased that every word Dr. Pramuk spoke, was solid and based in an understanding that he realized while he is not classified as “the other” he identifies with the struggles of the other. Often times that is all that most people need to know. You may not be “the other” but can you get in the trenches with "the other" and truly help “the other” bring about change? Not because you are white and I am black, not because you are man and I am a woman, not because you are rich and I am poor, not because you live in the East End and I live in the West End but because doing right is the right thing to do. Because compassion sees no color, because love crosses all barriers, because true concern for “the other” can level the playing field.
Following Dr. Parmuk’s lecture, we started our panel discussion. I stood on the stage and looked out into the audience. I saw 3 faces that looked like I did. I was painfully aware once again that even in this setting where the staff of the Center for Interfaith Relations had been so welcoming, kind, pleasant and encouraging, I knew that similar to that song on Sesame Street, “One of these kids are doing their own thing”, I was the kid doing my own thing and the spotlight was truly on me. Here goes nothing I thought. They can love it, hate it, boo me off the stage, clap wildly but I knew every word I placed on those pages were the truth and although the truth can be painful to face, it is by facing the truth that we begin a dialogue for true, authentic, organic change. My first poem was 10 and 2, a piece I wrote for my daughter that depicts the trials of a young, black person driving. Too often in our society, driving while black has been deemed a crime. The crowd was silent as I read. I did not know if they understood what I was saying not intellectually, of course, but on a fundamental level that these are the talks that we have with our children because we live in fear for their lives. My daughter is in college, has a 3.5 GPA, and has never been in trouble one day of her life. She is not what society would call “a thug” yet I fear for her life in these days. Not because she has done anything wrong but simply because she was born black. While having “the black talk” may be difficult, it is one that is needed. The panel quickly responded after my poem and provided great insight about police brutality and the church’s role in helping to deal with this issue. And yes, Dr. Francois said, we do have a role. As I paraphrase Rev. Harvey, “the church is moving from the prosperity gospel and it has to because now we have black bodies in the street.” As a person that not only attends church but also one that works at the church, I wholeheartedly agree. We cannot continue to have this feel good “churchianity”. Jesus was a revolutionary! Jesus stood up for the poor, the weak, the marginalized, etc. We cannot just have church as usual or the church will no longer be effective. The church isn’t just a place you attend to get your “praise on”. The church is not a night club or a social club. It’s a place that needs to be used to activate change!
We followed that discussion with a topic on Mass Incarceration after a poem that I read entitled, “Dancing to the Beat”. While not a long piece of poetry, it paints a clear picture that the prison system is now prison for profit and attempts to show the cyclical nature of the prison system. The prison system does not come alive after a person is sentenced. Because it is a well-oiled machine, the gears are being greased long before the person even enters the criminal system. Louisville, Kentucky recently made national news when it appeared in a PBS documentary on Frontline called Prison State. No matter how you attempt to hide dirty laundry, eventually it will start to smell and Louisville, Kentucky had the covers removed in that documentary. It showed two sides to this coin. While I do agree we do AMAZING things in Louisville, there is another side to this coin and one of those sides is 9th Street and beyond but primarily Beecher Terrace a pocket of Louisville that is overcome with despair, death, heartache and agony. Where 1 in 3 people will be caught up in the prison system. ONE IN THREE! That is beyond staggering. So sadly, we too, are a part of this machine. With this dialogue and the recent changes in the city, I pray we can overcome this and not just displace people, but transform people! If you want change, you do not simply move a problem, you deal with the fundamental, base level, all in your business so we can get to the bottom of it, problem. Moving generations of people who have known nothing but plight and poverty is not change. If you have cancer in your kidneys, and the doctor comes in and says, “We made a committee, we have the money and we have made a decision that WE feel is best for you. What are going to do is cut out the cancer and then MOVE IT to your liver.” You would look at that doctor as if they were crazy because the doctor is not dealing with the fundamental problem. The doctor can say we are going to remove the cancer but you need to stop smoking, drinking, start exercising, eating better, take your medicine, etc. That is more feasible but the doctor is dealing the BASE issues. Also, it shows a partnership. The doctor is going to do the medical part but the patient HAS to do their part. This analogy is being used to depict the gentrification currently going on in the city. The city can do its part, provide good housing, better schools, etc. WE have to do our part! This is not a finger pointing session because nine times out of ten you can ALWAYS point at yourself when a problem arises. We need to be co-laborers together! It is one thing to say you do not want to be a part of the prison system, it is another for you to continue to break the law. I can’t take a stand for bad behavior that is truly just bad behavior but I can take a stand for injustice. Black Lives do matter and they should matter first to us! Work together for change!
The final topic was on Gender. I read, "Ain’t I A Woman 2015", a play on Sojourner Truth’s famous poem, "Ain’t I A Woman". The poem covered women simply wanting gender equality. One thing that I loved that Rev. Guidry-Jones said was that as women we often speak of the trials of being a woman and do not celebrate our womanhood in all its glory. AMEN SISTER!!! Being a woman is hard, we often have to carry the weight of the world on our shoulders but I wouldn’t trade being a woman for anything in this world! I love everything about it and while we do need our struggle told, Rev. Guidry-Jones was correct that we also need to flip the coin over and like Paul Harvey used to say, “and now for the rest of the story.” She also spoke about the church assuming automatically that God is a man. When she said that I recalled a shirt that I read that said, “I met God. She’s black.” Talk about a double whammy! However, it did make me think, “Why haven’t I ever thought of God as woman?” Never once did that enter my mind. I suppose after all these years I have been conditioned to believe that God is a man and truthfully who is to say God even has a gender? Perhaps God just is and that is why God declares, “I am that I am!” Perhaps we need to take God out of the convenient box we place God in and just allow God to be. I am firm believer that I see God everywhere, in the trees, in the sunset, in the laughter of a child, in the tears of a mother, everywhere I turn I see God because God simply IS!
We finished the discussion with a question and answer session from the audience and I was thankful for that because I wondered if the audience received what was being said on the stage. From the questions and the discussions after the session ended I knew everything was well received. One woman stood up and asked, in regards to my poem 10 & 2, “Do people have conversations with their children that not all white people are bad people?” I believe these are two separate conversations because as a human being that is raising another human being, I also start from a place of love. No one is inherently bad or evil. I would be a part of the problem if I subscribed to that way of thinking. I do not need to have a conversation with my daughter about the goodness in people however, I do need to have a conversation with her about the reality of the world that she lives in. That she is the other and although we inherently know things should be equal and fair, as long as we are in this world, there are things we have to deal with. I have even had the “gender talk” with her before she headed off to college. Yes, it is true, that a woman’s clothes never ask for rape. Yes it is true, she should be able to go out and walk into her dorm room late at night without fear. Yes, she is woman hear her roar! However in the world we live in, we know the system so I have to teach her to be strong, proud of being a woman, proud of being a black woman but work within the system. Because the system is what is reality. So while she can burn her bras and wear a mini skirt as short as she desires, the moment something happens to her, God forbid, they do not see her, they see the skirt, they ask how many drinks she had, how many previous sexual partners, etc. The real question is, “Why do we still need to have these conversations in 2015 if this is a so called post racial world?” Ask Trayvon Martin, Mike Brown, Yvette Smith, Freddie Gray, Rekia Boyd, Eric Garner and countless others, if we have overcome our race issues in America? Another great question is, “Do those in the majority have these conversations with their kids about “the others”?” This is how you bring about change. Start the conversation! Open the dialogue. Trust that we truly have more in common than we will ever know and we will never know unless we start talking to one another, lay down our preconceived notions and do what I should have done when the white man sat down next to me before the session started. Simply say, “Hello. I am Hannah. Nice to meet you.” What a world of difference that could have made…
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