For The Queen who lost her crown when she saw others frown
Cause they thought she was too brown
For the Queen who lost her crown who never learned to say no
Because her uncle taught her how to blow at the age of ten
And now she only knows how to bend cause her momma never told her how mend
Her broken soul and hymen
For the Queen who lost her crown she was taught the measure of her womanhood was her ability bake a cake and shake her thing or at least swing into to the beat of someone else’s drum
For the queen who lost her crown she stopped her healing dance cause her mounting bills put her in a trance that could only be broken by hope but the street preacher said dope would get her right and since the panthers were out of sight she believed this clown’s hype
For the Queen who lost her crown when she fell down after being disillusioned by capitalism and sexism and classism and racism and every ism that decreased her space and took her place o think beyond the kitchen sink
For the Queen who lost her crown she she doubted the existence of God because she got caught up in the fog of self pity not realizing that Jehovah is the key
For the Queen who lost her crown when she forgot the sound of her own name and decided to play someone else’s game but letting him drive her insane till she accepted the rain of fists on her face as well as his intrusions in her sacred place
For the Queen who lost her crown when at the age of fifteen she ceased to put any hopes in dreams cause she thought having babies and beepers was the scene
For the Queen who lost her crown when she started believing the lie that she was too fat so her best bet was to hide in the back to silence her song and just go along with the flow of any joe willing to grace her space with his presence or lack thereof
For the Queen who lost her crown when she started modeling herself after material demons who only seek wealth
And what about the Kings
For the King who lost his crown when his father could not be found to show him how to stand and be a true man
For the King who lost his crown when he discovered the mentality of his reality made him want to die and he realized the only time he was confident he could fly was when he was high
For the King who lost his crown with the socialization of the system got him lost in special education
For the King who lost his crown when he was taught the measure of his manhood was in the rawness of the rhymes and the number of times he could make fine women scream by the fright of his dark night or the delight of his horizontal sunlight
For the King who lost his crown when he saw the lost Queens frown at the fact that he didn’t carry pagers as he stood amongst the minimum wagers at the not so golden arches
For the King who lost his crown when he was disillusioned by the belief that men with guns control all the fun so his best bet was to get one
For the king who lost his crown when he was forced to kneel before stepfathers, cousins, and brothers, and now finds comfort in the furs around his neck that help to keep his pain in check
For the King who lost his crown when affirmative action ended and he had to join his kindred in the state penitentiary where he now sits all day and dreams of a way to move on to a deluxe apartment in the skies
For the King and Queen who lost their crown
Don’t look so down
Your crown has not been erased
It is only misplaced
The angels ancestors still remember who you are
They’ve seen your true place among the stars
So just be still and look within
The Most High has already begun to mend
Those broken places and fill in those empty spaces
Stop living below your potential and put back on your crown
It’s time for you to soar again
For your home is not the ground
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
Holy Night - A Christmas poetic reflection
The Bible says that weeping may endure for a night but joy comes in the morning
Powerful things happen at night
The Bible says that in the beginning God stepped out on space and darkness covered everything
Supernatural things happen at night
When God made people of African descent, God created us sun-kissed
various hues but all reflections of the beautiful earth and the night sky
awesome things happen in the night of God’s creation
and so we gather to celebrate not just the beauty of night
but one night in particular
a holy night
a miraculous night
a sacred night
it was night like none other
a night where bright stars shone in the sky
a night that beckoned the spirits of shepherds and wise men alike
it was a night when a virgin was about to give birth
it was a night when an engaged man was watching for the transformation of his family
it was a night when God was standing on tip top and the Holy Spirit was dancing through space
it was a night, a holy night
where even barn animals were singing their praises and rocks were crying out holy, holy, holy
it was a night that would be remembered by the enslaved as they dreamed of emancipation
a night that would be preached about in store fronts and palaces
preached about in prisons and in Sunday schools
a night that would be taught from generation to generation sitting around dinner tables
even on nights when there was barely any food to eat
it was a night in which the son that was born represented a re-birth for us all
the son that was born represented the promise that we could all be re-born
that we could all start again
the birthing, the pushing, the labor of one woman changed the world
blessed Mary, mother of God, we remember you on today and all those mothers, grandmothers, and church mothers who have not forgotten how to birth, push, and labor for the children of God
faithful Joseph who did not turn back, we remember you on today and all those fathers, grandfathers, and church fathers who have not forgotten to show up, provide, and mentor for the children of God
holy Jesus, Savior of the world, we remember you on today, you who remind us that from night comes day, from valleys come mountains, and from simplicity comes the miraculous
it was a night, a holy night, a good night, a great night
and because of that night each of us have a guaranteed opportunity to walk in the light of God’s mercy and God’s grace
holy, holy, holy, the Lord God Almighty
Heaven and Earth are full of thy glory
Glory be to Thee, O Most High
Good night, holy night
Powerful things happen at night
The Bible says that in the beginning God stepped out on space and darkness covered everything
Supernatural things happen at night
When God made people of African descent, God created us sun-kissed
various hues but all reflections of the beautiful earth and the night sky
awesome things happen in the night of God’s creation
and so we gather to celebrate not just the beauty of night
but one night in particular
a holy night
a miraculous night
a sacred night
it was night like none other
a night where bright stars shone in the sky
a night that beckoned the spirits of shepherds and wise men alike
it was a night when a virgin was about to give birth
it was a night when an engaged man was watching for the transformation of his family
it was a night when God was standing on tip top and the Holy Spirit was dancing through space
it was a night, a holy night
where even barn animals were singing their praises and rocks were crying out holy, holy, holy
it was a night that would be remembered by the enslaved as they dreamed of emancipation
a night that would be preached about in store fronts and palaces
preached about in prisons and in Sunday schools
a night that would be taught from generation to generation sitting around dinner tables
even on nights when there was barely any food to eat
it was a night in which the son that was born represented a re-birth for us all
the son that was born represented the promise that we could all be re-born
that we could all start again
the birthing, the pushing, the labor of one woman changed the world
blessed Mary, mother of God, we remember you on today and all those mothers, grandmothers, and church mothers who have not forgotten how to birth, push, and labor for the children of God
faithful Joseph who did not turn back, we remember you on today and all those fathers, grandfathers, and church fathers who have not forgotten to show up, provide, and mentor for the children of God
holy Jesus, Savior of the world, we remember you on today, you who remind us that from night comes day, from valleys come mountains, and from simplicity comes the miraculous
it was a night, a holy night, a good night, a great night
and because of that night each of us have a guaranteed opportunity to walk in the light of God’s mercy and God’s grace
holy, holy, holy, the Lord God Almighty
Heaven and Earth are full of thy glory
Glory be to Thee, O Most High
Good night, holy night
Thursday, December 4, 2008
I am because they are
I am my mother’s daughter
We stand in closets
Communing with the Holy Spirit
Startling saints with our sensuality
Filling streets and sanctuaries with our Roars
Keeping mysteries and secret behind fire eyes and brilliant smiles
I am my father’s daughter
Quietly jumping off balconies onto pulpits
Leading rallies by night
Soaking is silent thought by day
Ears listening to the wind then riding it through storms
Still waters running deep
Loving people as much as the Word
I was born risk-taker
My father used to lay in the street in the 50s
Playing chicken
Not wanting to be the first to roll away from on-coming traffic
He used to ride bikes through whites only neighborhoods
Eat at whites only counters
And protest the white house with me on his shoulders
When I ask my mother how she flies through such dangerous skies
She says “I never think about the alternative - staying on the ground.”
She soars to places where clouds of religious ritual and clouds of spiritual discipline unite
Where clouds of Africa and the Diaspora unite
Where clouds of vision and reality unite
I am my mother
We speak fire
Walk drum beats
And dance with God
I am my father
We are masterful griots
Telling our stories like oak trees
We are supreme owls
Seeking to see our people’s reality especially at midnight
We are students of midwifery
Spending our lives helping others breathe and give birth
My mother’s memory is in me
Memories of NY projects and United Nations diplomacy are in me
Memories of trading perm for afro puff are in me
And memories of being equally comfortable in mini-skirts and flowing dashikis are in me
But memories of surrender – not in me
My father’s memory is in me
Memories of Baltimore Jim Crow and DC’s march on Washington are in me
Memories of redemption sermons and revolution speeches are in me
But memories of being a follower – not in me
My parents’ pen flows through me
Their prayers hold me up
Their love – the wind beneath my wings
And their human mistakes reminding of the possibility of resurrection
For the spirit in them did not begin with them
It reaches back to southern plantations
It dances across the middle passage
It pre-dates the point of no return
It resides in the rhythms, textiles, genius, soul of a Continent
It runs through empty tomb and Calvary Cross
It runs in the wilderness and the garden
It was present at the beginning of the beginning
I am daughter of John and Cecelia
I am daughter of Africa and America
I am daughter of Alpha and Omega
I am daughter of legacies that must be passed on
I stand on invisible shoulders holding tip toeing children over my head
I take my place in this chain
Having the same faith as my ancestors
That those who come after me will transcend me
Not forgetting me but carrying our legacy to altitudes beyond our reach
We stand in closets
Communing with the Holy Spirit
Startling saints with our sensuality
Filling streets and sanctuaries with our Roars
Keeping mysteries and secret behind fire eyes and brilliant smiles
I am my father’s daughter
Quietly jumping off balconies onto pulpits
Leading rallies by night
Soaking is silent thought by day
Ears listening to the wind then riding it through storms
Still waters running deep
Loving people as much as the Word
I was born risk-taker
My father used to lay in the street in the 50s
Playing chicken
Not wanting to be the first to roll away from on-coming traffic
He used to ride bikes through whites only neighborhoods
Eat at whites only counters
And protest the white house with me on his shoulders
When I ask my mother how she flies through such dangerous skies
She says “I never think about the alternative - staying on the ground.”
She soars to places where clouds of religious ritual and clouds of spiritual discipline unite
Where clouds of Africa and the Diaspora unite
Where clouds of vision and reality unite
I am my mother
We speak fire
Walk drum beats
And dance with God
I am my father
We are masterful griots
Telling our stories like oak trees
We are supreme owls
Seeking to see our people’s reality especially at midnight
We are students of midwifery
Spending our lives helping others breathe and give birth
My mother’s memory is in me
Memories of NY projects and United Nations diplomacy are in me
Memories of trading perm for afro puff are in me
And memories of being equally comfortable in mini-skirts and flowing dashikis are in me
But memories of surrender – not in me
My father’s memory is in me
Memories of Baltimore Jim Crow and DC’s march on Washington are in me
Memories of redemption sermons and revolution speeches are in me
But memories of being a follower – not in me
My parents’ pen flows through me
Their prayers hold me up
Their love – the wind beneath my wings
And their human mistakes reminding of the possibility of resurrection
For the spirit in them did not begin with them
It reaches back to southern plantations
It dances across the middle passage
It pre-dates the point of no return
It resides in the rhythms, textiles, genius, soul of a Continent
It runs through empty tomb and Calvary Cross
It runs in the wilderness and the garden
It was present at the beginning of the beginning
I am daughter of John and Cecelia
I am daughter of Africa and America
I am daughter of Alpha and Omega
I am daughter of legacies that must be passed on
I stand on invisible shoulders holding tip toeing children over my head
I take my place in this chain
Having the same faith as my ancestors
That those who come after me will transcend me
Not forgetting me but carrying our legacy to altitudes beyond our reach
Friday, November 21, 2008
An Attitude of Gratitude
Pepperdine University
Thanksgiving Service 2008
Dr. Thema Bryant-Davis
Scripture Luke 17: 11-19
11Now on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus traveled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. 12As he was going into a village, ten men who had leprosy[a]met him. They stood at a distance 13and called out in a loud voice, "Jesus, Master, have pity on us!"
14When he saw them, he said, "Go, show yourselves to the priests." And as they went, they were cleansed.
15One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. 16He threw himself at Jesus' feet and thanked him—and he was a Samaritan.
17Jesus asked, "Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? 18Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?" 19Then he said to him, "Rise and go; your faith has made you well."
Theme: An Attitude of Gratitude
The Bible says we have not because we ask not
but many of us have asked and received and yet still don’t believe we have a reason to give thanks.
We focus on what we don’t have instead of what we do.
Looking at the cup as half empty gives us the blues and
we still don’t have a clue that we need an attitude of gratitude –
a gratitude gladitude moment each day.
Some say when the praises go up to God, the blessings come down
but instead of worshipping we walk around campus with frowns.
Let’s set the atmosphere.
Shake up this place with authentic joy on our faces.
An attitude of gratitude for blessings big and small –
This is a call for each of us to stop and remember the gifts from above –
our divine covering – the symbol of the cross and the dove.
In this season especially we have much for which we should be grateful.
For Hilary Clinton and Sarah Palin who stood tall for everyone and especially for women and girls facing sexism, unequal pay, domestic violence, sexual harassment, and objectification. For them we give thanks.
For John McCain who stood tall for everyone and especially the numerous unnamed, unrecognized, forgotten veterans facing PTSD, homelessness, disability, and disenfranchisement - for him we give thanks.
For Joe Biden who stood tall for everyone and especially the many unsung fathers who commit to raising their children with nurturance, sacrifice, and integrity. For him we give thanks.
And for President Elect Barack Obama who stood tall for everyone and especially for those past and present confronted with bigotry, racism, discrimination, xenophobia, segregation, lynching ropes, auction blocks, Jim crow, and colonialism. Obama stands tall as a testament of our possibility – we give thanks.
Regardless of our political affiliations or religious denominations, we give thanks. For each of us are the change agents the world can believe in. We give thanks for faith, growth, and transformation.
We have a reason, you have a reason, I have a reason to give thanks.
In our text we find one who remembered to go back and thank Jesus.
The story is told of 10 lepers – 10 rejects
- those cast out, thrown out, and discarded.
If we bring the story to modern times we can think of the 10 lepers as representing those of us who have experienced rejection – rejection from our families, our peers, or even our school – those of us who did not always fit in or do not fit in today.
We who like the lepers know what it’s like to be feared or misunderstood or judged or underestimated – we who have ever experienced being marginalized or stigmatized – we are to a certain degree like the lepers in our text.
We who don’t fit the Pepperdine stereotype can relate to the lepers.
You love God but you have questions that make some people uncomfortable – you can relate to the lepers.
You are not from a wealthy family – you can relate to the lepers.
Or you are from a family of wealth but not a family of love – you can relate to the lepers.
You who walk around campus seeing few reflections of yourself – you can relate to the lepers.
I have good news this morning, a reminder that Jesus came for you – came for us, all of us. When the lepers cried out for mercy, relief, justice, and healing. Jesus responded to them go forward. For he knew in their moving forward they would be healed. The same was true for us. In spite of stereotype, stigma, past rejections – we pressed forward and applied to Pepperdine, pressed forward and stayed up late studying and writing papers, pressed forward and came to work this morning, pressed forward and in the process of your pressing God has begun to heal you from the pain of your yesterday.
So here we are – those who stepped out on faith and God is healing us. God has healed us but we have to go back, reconnect with Christ, and show our thanks.
An attitude of gratitude is required of us. Like the leper who came back to thank Jesus for his healing. We have to go back to the source of our strength and give thanks in prayer, in meditation, and in our relationships with each other. We give thanks by taking care of the body temple God has given us and honoring the body temples of our sisters and brothers. We give thanks for the opportunity to study and work by applying a spirit of excellence to all that we do.
There were 10 lepers that were healed but only one came back to say thank you. What happened to the other 9 Pepperdine students on this beautiful morning? Well, Michael has a big exam coming up so he doesn’t have time to come to service. Judy is on “Facebook” trying to make a love connection. William is working on his graduate school application. Ebony is studying for the GREs. Joe is working his way through school as a plumber. Jennifer is exhausted and taking a nap. Ernesto is on the phone having an argument with his girlfriend back home. Annette is staring out the window of her room wondering if she can afford to stay in school. And Josh is working out at the gym.
But you, each of you – like the one healed leper - took the time out of your busy list of things to do today and said I have to stop and reflect, stop and give thanks, stop and adjust my attitude to one of gratitude. Things may not be perfect. Our lives are not easy. Yet we are blessed and privileged at this very moment. Regardless of our current bank account balance, GPA, popularity, or the level of drama in our lives, we have something for which we can give thanks.
When the leper came back to Jesus, he received even more from being in the presence of Jehovah Shalom, God our peace. The same is true for us. Psychologists have found that those who take time each day to reflect in thought or in writing on things for which they are grateful, have healthier minds, bodies, and spirits. Those who take time to embrace an attitude of gratitude report more energy, enthusiasm, positive attitudes, determination, joy, optimism, self worth, positive relationships, quality sleep, and goal attainment and less depression, stress, physical sickness, and materialism.
There are benefits to giving thanks. An attitude of gratitude blesses us and those we encounter each day.
So in this season in our nation’s history, let us embrace an attitude of gratitude. For those who were legally banned from reading and for those who live with illiteracy today, let us give thanks for the opportunity to learn and study. For those who gave their lives so that we could vote and for those living today who can not vote, let us give thanks for the opportunity to make our voices heard. For those who grew up in separate and unequal schools and those today who still attend underfunded schools, let us give thanks for the opportunity to be a part of Mr. Pepperdine’s vision for faith and academic excellence. For those whose past experiences of rejection, abuse, misuse, and modern day leprosy have resulted in them now suffering from mental illness, substance dependence, and fear, let us give thanks that in spite of our past challenges we are here today with an opportunity to make this campus, make this country, and make this world a brighter place – for all people. Let us give thanks.
An attitude of gratitude means I make a decision to focus on the good in my life instead of being consumed by complaints. I make a decision to show love and appreciation not fear or intolerance. I make a decision to speak life into dead places, to thank God for the many mountains that have been moved in my lifetime, and to know God’s purpose for my life shines brighter than my most difficult days. An attitude of gratitude is an active choice to say on this day and every day, I give thanks.
Thanksgiving Service 2008
Dr. Thema Bryant-Davis
Scripture Luke 17: 11-19
11Now on his way to Jerusalem, Jesus traveled along the border between Samaria and Galilee. 12As he was going into a village, ten men who had leprosy[a]met him. They stood at a distance 13and called out in a loud voice, "Jesus, Master, have pity on us!"
14When he saw them, he said, "Go, show yourselves to the priests." And as they went, they were cleansed.
15One of them, when he saw he was healed, came back, praising God in a loud voice. 16He threw himself at Jesus' feet and thanked him—and he was a Samaritan.
17Jesus asked, "Were not all ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? 18Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?" 19Then he said to him, "Rise and go; your faith has made you well."
Theme: An Attitude of Gratitude
The Bible says we have not because we ask not
but many of us have asked and received and yet still don’t believe we have a reason to give thanks.
We focus on what we don’t have instead of what we do.
Looking at the cup as half empty gives us the blues and
we still don’t have a clue that we need an attitude of gratitude –
a gratitude gladitude moment each day.
Some say when the praises go up to God, the blessings come down
but instead of worshipping we walk around campus with frowns.
Let’s set the atmosphere.
Shake up this place with authentic joy on our faces.
An attitude of gratitude for blessings big and small –
This is a call for each of us to stop and remember the gifts from above –
our divine covering – the symbol of the cross and the dove.
In this season especially we have much for which we should be grateful.
For Hilary Clinton and Sarah Palin who stood tall for everyone and especially for women and girls facing sexism, unequal pay, domestic violence, sexual harassment, and objectification. For them we give thanks.
For John McCain who stood tall for everyone and especially the numerous unnamed, unrecognized, forgotten veterans facing PTSD, homelessness, disability, and disenfranchisement - for him we give thanks.
For Joe Biden who stood tall for everyone and especially the many unsung fathers who commit to raising their children with nurturance, sacrifice, and integrity. For him we give thanks.
And for President Elect Barack Obama who stood tall for everyone and especially for those past and present confronted with bigotry, racism, discrimination, xenophobia, segregation, lynching ropes, auction blocks, Jim crow, and colonialism. Obama stands tall as a testament of our possibility – we give thanks.
Regardless of our political affiliations or religious denominations, we give thanks. For each of us are the change agents the world can believe in. We give thanks for faith, growth, and transformation.
We have a reason, you have a reason, I have a reason to give thanks.
In our text we find one who remembered to go back and thank Jesus.
The story is told of 10 lepers – 10 rejects
- those cast out, thrown out, and discarded.
If we bring the story to modern times we can think of the 10 lepers as representing those of us who have experienced rejection – rejection from our families, our peers, or even our school – those of us who did not always fit in or do not fit in today.
We who like the lepers know what it’s like to be feared or misunderstood or judged or underestimated – we who have ever experienced being marginalized or stigmatized – we are to a certain degree like the lepers in our text.
We who don’t fit the Pepperdine stereotype can relate to the lepers.
You love God but you have questions that make some people uncomfortable – you can relate to the lepers.
You are not from a wealthy family – you can relate to the lepers.
Or you are from a family of wealth but not a family of love – you can relate to the lepers.
You who walk around campus seeing few reflections of yourself – you can relate to the lepers.
I have good news this morning, a reminder that Jesus came for you – came for us, all of us. When the lepers cried out for mercy, relief, justice, and healing. Jesus responded to them go forward. For he knew in their moving forward they would be healed. The same was true for us. In spite of stereotype, stigma, past rejections – we pressed forward and applied to Pepperdine, pressed forward and stayed up late studying and writing papers, pressed forward and came to work this morning, pressed forward and in the process of your pressing God has begun to heal you from the pain of your yesterday.
So here we are – those who stepped out on faith and God is healing us. God has healed us but we have to go back, reconnect with Christ, and show our thanks.
An attitude of gratitude is required of us. Like the leper who came back to thank Jesus for his healing. We have to go back to the source of our strength and give thanks in prayer, in meditation, and in our relationships with each other. We give thanks by taking care of the body temple God has given us and honoring the body temples of our sisters and brothers. We give thanks for the opportunity to study and work by applying a spirit of excellence to all that we do.
There were 10 lepers that were healed but only one came back to say thank you. What happened to the other 9 Pepperdine students on this beautiful morning? Well, Michael has a big exam coming up so he doesn’t have time to come to service. Judy is on “Facebook” trying to make a love connection. William is working on his graduate school application. Ebony is studying for the GREs. Joe is working his way through school as a plumber. Jennifer is exhausted and taking a nap. Ernesto is on the phone having an argument with his girlfriend back home. Annette is staring out the window of her room wondering if she can afford to stay in school. And Josh is working out at the gym.
But you, each of you – like the one healed leper - took the time out of your busy list of things to do today and said I have to stop and reflect, stop and give thanks, stop and adjust my attitude to one of gratitude. Things may not be perfect. Our lives are not easy. Yet we are blessed and privileged at this very moment. Regardless of our current bank account balance, GPA, popularity, or the level of drama in our lives, we have something for which we can give thanks.
When the leper came back to Jesus, he received even more from being in the presence of Jehovah Shalom, God our peace. The same is true for us. Psychologists have found that those who take time each day to reflect in thought or in writing on things for which they are grateful, have healthier minds, bodies, and spirits. Those who take time to embrace an attitude of gratitude report more energy, enthusiasm, positive attitudes, determination, joy, optimism, self worth, positive relationships, quality sleep, and goal attainment and less depression, stress, physical sickness, and materialism.
There are benefits to giving thanks. An attitude of gratitude blesses us and those we encounter each day.
So in this season in our nation’s history, let us embrace an attitude of gratitude. For those who were legally banned from reading and for those who live with illiteracy today, let us give thanks for the opportunity to learn and study. For those who gave their lives so that we could vote and for those living today who can not vote, let us give thanks for the opportunity to make our voices heard. For those who grew up in separate and unequal schools and those today who still attend underfunded schools, let us give thanks for the opportunity to be a part of Mr. Pepperdine’s vision for faith and academic excellence. For those whose past experiences of rejection, abuse, misuse, and modern day leprosy have resulted in them now suffering from mental illness, substance dependence, and fear, let us give thanks that in spite of our past challenges we are here today with an opportunity to make this campus, make this country, and make this world a brighter place – for all people. Let us give thanks.
An attitude of gratitude means I make a decision to focus on the good in my life instead of being consumed by complaints. I make a decision to show love and appreciation not fear or intolerance. I make a decision to speak life into dead places, to thank God for the many mountains that have been moved in my lifetime, and to know God’s purpose for my life shines brighter than my most difficult days. An attitude of gratitude is an active choice to say on this day and every day, I give thanks.
Religious Silence on Domestic Violence
October was domestic violence awareness month and far too many Churches, Temples, and Mosques have allowed the month to pass without speaking out against domestic violence. As a psychologist who works with victims, offenders, and children who are affected by intimate partner violence, as well as a minister whose ministry focuses on women’s well-being, I am painfully aware of the silent acceptance of domestic violence in our sacred places. Pulpits where women are told to forgive, give over it, or learn to be more submissive have often gone unchallenged. Religious leaders have actively and passively been a part of the problem and religious leaders must accept the mantle of responsibility in preventing and intervening in cases of domestic violence.
It is unacceptable to have 52 opportunities a year to teach spiritual development and neglect teaching the fundamentals of healthy versus unhealthy relationships. It is unacceptable to tell a woman who comes in for pastoral counseling that God sends abuse to test our faith. It is unacceptable to reject a female parishioner who makes the decision to flee an abusive relationship. Much more is required of us. People’s lives literally hang in the balance. Every year in California more than 100 women are killed by current or former intimate partners. Every year, every month, every day someone is hit, punched, raped, slapped, kicked, or verbally abused by someone who claims to love them.
Silence supports the status quo and the status quo is pervasive domestic abuse. The countless victims of domestic violence include both the abused partner and their children, both of whom are more vulnerable to depression, post traumatic stress disorder, suicidal ideation, substance abuse, homelessness, injury, and anxiety. This trauma crosses gender, racial, economic, sexual orientation, and religious lines. Many people are living in fear and isolation. Every opportunity has to be made to reach them, including and especially when people make their way to religious communities.
While I am disappointed in our collective silence I am also encouraged by those who are holding up the proverbial light. While the numbers of active agents of change are small compared to the numbers of silenced sanctuaries, there are yet a growing number of religious communities that are taking a stand. This includes counseling agencies that are focused on meeting the needs of members of religious communities, ministers, rabbis, and imams who are speaking out against domestic abuse, and websites that have been created to provide resources specifically for activities that religious communities can do including hosting awareness programs, providing resource lists to members, and raising funds for domestic violence agencies. This month in Los Angeles an Interfaith Service against Domestic Violence was held to give voice and safety to the numerous survivors of faith. Through the use of prayer, poetry, song, dance, testimonies of survivors, and the reading of inspiring religious texts we took a step in shattering the silence. This was one step and there are many more ahead of us.
As we look around our religious communities, we must remember along with their souls, our members’ minds, hearts, and bodies are also sacred. Our bodies are temples and we can not sit by as they are desecrated. I encourage every religious leader to not let the year come to an end without speaking out against domestic violence. Someone may be sitting there wondering, “What must I do to be saved?”
It is unacceptable to have 52 opportunities a year to teach spiritual development and neglect teaching the fundamentals of healthy versus unhealthy relationships. It is unacceptable to tell a woman who comes in for pastoral counseling that God sends abuse to test our faith. It is unacceptable to reject a female parishioner who makes the decision to flee an abusive relationship. Much more is required of us. People’s lives literally hang in the balance. Every year in California more than 100 women are killed by current or former intimate partners. Every year, every month, every day someone is hit, punched, raped, slapped, kicked, or verbally abused by someone who claims to love them.
Silence supports the status quo and the status quo is pervasive domestic abuse. The countless victims of domestic violence include both the abused partner and their children, both of whom are more vulnerable to depression, post traumatic stress disorder, suicidal ideation, substance abuse, homelessness, injury, and anxiety. This trauma crosses gender, racial, economic, sexual orientation, and religious lines. Many people are living in fear and isolation. Every opportunity has to be made to reach them, including and especially when people make their way to religious communities.
While I am disappointed in our collective silence I am also encouraged by those who are holding up the proverbial light. While the numbers of active agents of change are small compared to the numbers of silenced sanctuaries, there are yet a growing number of religious communities that are taking a stand. This includes counseling agencies that are focused on meeting the needs of members of religious communities, ministers, rabbis, and imams who are speaking out against domestic abuse, and websites that have been created to provide resources specifically for activities that religious communities can do including hosting awareness programs, providing resource lists to members, and raising funds for domestic violence agencies. This month in Los Angeles an Interfaith Service against Domestic Violence was held to give voice and safety to the numerous survivors of faith. Through the use of prayer, poetry, song, dance, testimonies of survivors, and the reading of inspiring religious texts we took a step in shattering the silence. This was one step and there are many more ahead of us.
As we look around our religious communities, we must remember along with their souls, our members’ minds, hearts, and bodies are also sacred. Our bodies are temples and we can not sit by as they are desecrated. I encourage every religious leader to not let the year come to an end without speaking out against domestic violence. Someone may be sitting there wondering, “What must I do to be saved?”
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Remembering Hurricane Katrina
Flashback to flag draped on my grandmother
Flashback to my sons and daughters waiting and crying for those who would never come
Flashback to my mothers' hunger, not just for food but for justice
Flashback to my fathers' empty hands and searching, angry eyes
Waters not washing but flooding
Waters revealing the systematic dehumanization of a people
again
of my people
again
troubled waters stirring up historical traumas
met with invisibility and dehumanization
this time, they say it will be different
have we not heard it before
never again, they cry
never again, we cry
to the people of the Sudan, never again
to the raped girls on college campuses, on school buses, in back rooms, in their homes, never again
to the young boys gang raped in prison, never again
to the people of New Orleans, never again
I'll fly away, oh glory, I'll fly away
but what happens when your wings are weighed down by oil, by greed, by racism, by sexism, by poverty
we are looking for the blessing in the storm
we are uncovering the truth that the only blessing is if we are stunned into, shamed into, inspired into laying down our dysfunction, our fear, our hatred
tic toc
time will tell
if we are learning to be one nation, if we are learning to be global citizens, if we are learning to unlearn our complacency, learning to confront the miseducation of our minds, learning to let hearts beat with compassion and the urgency of NOW!
Flashback to my sons and daughters waiting and crying for those who would never come
Flashback to my mothers' hunger, not just for food but for justice
Flashback to my fathers' empty hands and searching, angry eyes
Waters not washing but flooding
Waters revealing the systematic dehumanization of a people
again
of my people
again
troubled waters stirring up historical traumas
met with invisibility and dehumanization
this time, they say it will be different
have we not heard it before
never again, they cry
never again, we cry
to the people of the Sudan, never again
to the raped girls on college campuses, on school buses, in back rooms, in their homes, never again
to the young boys gang raped in prison, never again
to the people of New Orleans, never again
I'll fly away, oh glory, I'll fly away
but what happens when your wings are weighed down by oil, by greed, by racism, by sexism, by poverty
we are looking for the blessing in the storm
we are uncovering the truth that the only blessing is if we are stunned into, shamed into, inspired into laying down our dysfunction, our fear, our hatred
tic toc
time will tell
if we are learning to be one nation, if we are learning to be global citizens, if we are learning to unlearn our complacency, learning to confront the miseducation of our minds, learning to let hearts beat with compassion and the urgency of NOW!
Friday, August 22, 2008
Research by Underrepresented Scholars
It is critical that research is conducted and supported by those who have a heart for and understanding of the people they study. There is an urgent need for qualitative and quantitive studies of the issues facing marginalized peoples as well as the potential solutions.
Ignoring the role, voice, and experiences of the marginalized is not good science nor objectivity. It is systematic oppression and silencing even when it is unconscious by those doing the work.
There are literally lives at stake. Invisibility and minimization of identity markers such as gender, race, and economic status are not acceptable and fall short of the ethical standards of quality scholarship.
The academcy has to be open to diverse voices to create a true breadth of knowledge.
Ignoring the role, voice, and experiences of the marginalized is not good science nor objectivity. It is systematic oppression and silencing even when it is unconscious by those doing the work.
There are literally lives at stake. Invisibility and minimization of identity markers such as gender, race, and economic status are not acceptable and fall short of the ethical standards of quality scholarship.
The academcy has to be open to diverse voices to create a true breadth of knowledge.
Monday, August 4, 2008
"Are we there yet?" - Steps to higher ground
It is past time for us to move forward as invididuals, and as a community, a nation, and as global citizens. This sermon teaches principles that can help us get to the next level.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
"The Exam" - poem
Shake the tamborine
Not the one in your hands
But the one in your throat
One people indivisible under God
Cause divided we fall
And even if the sum figure is off addition is a necessity
And subtraction is vital
One suburban blue collar with black face
Plus one urban white boy with baggy blues
Plus one southern brown girl who can split green beans in her sleep and wring chicken necks while standing on one leg
Equals one nation under God
Minus stereotypical lenses
Minus the unblinking eye of exploitation minus bruised bifocal false dichotomies of lynching trees or reverse discrimination
So give me an A
And let’s subtract the BS
Not the degree but the nonsense
Cause my hands are swollen
Numb from anemia
Deficient of will or strength
My palms only possess seeing lines
But we need to connect the dots
If red plus blue makes green
But black plus white equals black from one drop blood
But blood is red
And the reds were wiped out
But are still here
Or didn’t you notice my cheek bones
But regardless the reality is no one can catch a rainbow
Or maybe we can but 9 to 5 keeps us from taking up our crosses
Which brings us back to addition
Multiplying the tasks we can fit in a tic toc
Cause Alabama is only a fraction of the square root of my roots
This soil is ancient
Pre-dating calendars or 24 hour kinkos or even kentes
This is pure breath
One spirit is God
In my lungs adding life to our tics
Before we clock out
Our blinks are beat boxes for angel’s ears
Let the wax build up to hear soul music better
There are toes in India, Africa, Australia, Europe and Asia doing the same tap dance right not
Adding to the ruler indentions that were not anticipated or accounted for
Because the global calculator was buried in the sands of hierarchy
Making wild anarchy disguise itself as altruism
But it wasn’t all true
Lies I say
And the deception must be revealed for there to be one breath which is God
And I breathe it
We are it
So shake the tamborine
Not the one in your hands
The one in your throat
The one that is you
Shake loose and join the caravan of additives in search of the ultimate preservative
Cause life is an equation written on a blackboard with limited erasers
And many races are in this class and that brings us again to addition
If the rich get richer what do the poor get
If we give free cheese who gets the meat and potatoes
If there are thousands of empty homes with for sale signs on lawns
Why are thousands of babies sleeping on streets
Or is math just not the strong suit of politicians
But even kids in the remedial class know that if there are 10 marbles
And you take all ten then we have none
And laziness is not in this equation
Only greed
So let’s subtract it
And be one breath which is God
Maybe it sounds like communism to you
But this is math not phonics
So just let the equation be equal don’t’ topple the scale
Cause when it’s broke you will feel it
And if that sounds like a threat to you
Remember this is not linguistics only math
And we’re striving for all the crap to cancel out
Envy and greed cancel each other out
Selfishness and oppression cancel each other out
Cross out the x’s and the y’s
Cross out the heads and the tails
Cross out the mayhem and the madness
Until we’re left with one breath which is God
Before we have to turn the papers over
Put the pens down
And wait to be dismissed
Not the one in your hands
But the one in your throat
One people indivisible under God
Cause divided we fall
And even if the sum figure is off addition is a necessity
And subtraction is vital
One suburban blue collar with black face
Plus one urban white boy with baggy blues
Plus one southern brown girl who can split green beans in her sleep and wring chicken necks while standing on one leg
Equals one nation under God
Minus stereotypical lenses
Minus the unblinking eye of exploitation minus bruised bifocal false dichotomies of lynching trees or reverse discrimination
So give me an A
And let’s subtract the BS
Not the degree but the nonsense
Cause my hands are swollen
Numb from anemia
Deficient of will or strength
My palms only possess seeing lines
But we need to connect the dots
If red plus blue makes green
But black plus white equals black from one drop blood
But blood is red
And the reds were wiped out
But are still here
Or didn’t you notice my cheek bones
But regardless the reality is no one can catch a rainbow
Or maybe we can but 9 to 5 keeps us from taking up our crosses
Which brings us back to addition
Multiplying the tasks we can fit in a tic toc
Cause Alabama is only a fraction of the square root of my roots
This soil is ancient
Pre-dating calendars or 24 hour kinkos or even kentes
This is pure breath
One spirit is God
In my lungs adding life to our tics
Before we clock out
Our blinks are beat boxes for angel’s ears
Let the wax build up to hear soul music better
There are toes in India, Africa, Australia, Europe and Asia doing the same tap dance right not
Adding to the ruler indentions that were not anticipated or accounted for
Because the global calculator was buried in the sands of hierarchy
Making wild anarchy disguise itself as altruism
But it wasn’t all true
Lies I say
And the deception must be revealed for there to be one breath which is God
And I breathe it
We are it
So shake the tamborine
Not the one in your hands
The one in your throat
The one that is you
Shake loose and join the caravan of additives in search of the ultimate preservative
Cause life is an equation written on a blackboard with limited erasers
And many races are in this class and that brings us again to addition
If the rich get richer what do the poor get
If we give free cheese who gets the meat and potatoes
If there are thousands of empty homes with for sale signs on lawns
Why are thousands of babies sleeping on streets
Or is math just not the strong suit of politicians
But even kids in the remedial class know that if there are 10 marbles
And you take all ten then we have none
And laziness is not in this equation
Only greed
So let’s subtract it
And be one breath which is God
Maybe it sounds like communism to you
But this is math not phonics
So just let the equation be equal don’t’ topple the scale
Cause when it’s broke you will feel it
And if that sounds like a threat to you
Remember this is not linguistics only math
And we’re striving for all the crap to cancel out
Envy and greed cancel each other out
Selfishness and oppression cancel each other out
Cross out the x’s and the y’s
Cross out the heads and the tails
Cross out the mayhem and the madness
Until we’re left with one breath which is God
Before we have to turn the papers over
Put the pens down
And wait to be dismissed
Lineage Poem
I am my mother’s daughter
We stand in closets
Communing with the Holy Spirit
Startling saints with our sensuality
Filling streets and sanctuaries with our Roars
Keeping mysteries and secret behind fire eyes and brilliant smiles
I am my father’s daughter
Quietly jumping off balconies onto pulpits
Leading rallies by night
Soaking is silent thought by day
Ears listening to the wind then riding it through storms
Still waters running deep
Loving people as much as the Word
I was born risk-taker
My father used to lay in the street in the 50s
Playing chicken
Not wanting to be the first to roll away from on-coming traffic
He used to ride bikes through whites only neighborhoods
Eat at whites only counters
And protest the white house with me on his shoulders
When I ask my mother how she flies through such dangerous skies
She says “I never think about the alternative - staying on the ground.”
She soars to places where clouds of religious ritual and clouds of spiritual discipline unite
Where clouds of Africa and the Diaspora unite
Where clouds of vision and reality unite
I am my mother
We speak fire
Walk drum beats
And dance with God
I am my father
We are masterful griots
Telling our stories like oak trees
We are supreme owls
Seeking to see our people’s reality especially at midnight
We are students of midwifery
Spending our lives helping others breathe and give birth
My mother’s memory is in me
Memories of NY projects and United Nations diplomacy are in me
Memories of trading perm for afro puff are in me
And memories of being equally comfortable in mini-skirts and flowing dashikis are in me
But memories of surrender – not in me
My father’s memory is in me
Memories of Baltimore Jim Crow and DC’s march on Washington are in me
Memories of redemption sermons and revolution speeches are in me
But memories of being a follower – not in me
My parents’ pen flows through me
Their prayers hold me up
Their love – the wind beneath my wings
And their human mistakes reminding of the possibility of resurrection
For the spirit in them did not begin with them
It reaches back to southern plantations
It dances across the middle passage
It pre-dates the point of no return
It resides in the rhythms, textiles, genius, soul of a Continent
It runs through empty tomb and Calvary Cross
It runs in the wilderness and the garden
It was present at the beginning of the beginning
I am daughter of John and Cecelia
I am daughter of Africa and America
I am daughter of Alpha and Omega
I am daughter of legacies that must be passed on
I stand on invisible shoulders holding tip toeing children over my head
I take my place in this chain
Having the same faith as my ancestors
That those who come after me will transcend me
Not forgetting me but carrying our legacy to altitudes beyond our reach
We stand in closets
Communing with the Holy Spirit
Startling saints with our sensuality
Filling streets and sanctuaries with our Roars
Keeping mysteries and secret behind fire eyes and brilliant smiles
I am my father’s daughter
Quietly jumping off balconies onto pulpits
Leading rallies by night
Soaking is silent thought by day
Ears listening to the wind then riding it through storms
Still waters running deep
Loving people as much as the Word
I was born risk-taker
My father used to lay in the street in the 50s
Playing chicken
Not wanting to be the first to roll away from on-coming traffic
He used to ride bikes through whites only neighborhoods
Eat at whites only counters
And protest the white house with me on his shoulders
When I ask my mother how she flies through such dangerous skies
She says “I never think about the alternative - staying on the ground.”
She soars to places where clouds of religious ritual and clouds of spiritual discipline unite
Where clouds of Africa and the Diaspora unite
Where clouds of vision and reality unite
I am my mother
We speak fire
Walk drum beats
And dance with God
I am my father
We are masterful griots
Telling our stories like oak trees
We are supreme owls
Seeking to see our people’s reality especially at midnight
We are students of midwifery
Spending our lives helping others breathe and give birth
My mother’s memory is in me
Memories of NY projects and United Nations diplomacy are in me
Memories of trading perm for afro puff are in me
And memories of being equally comfortable in mini-skirts and flowing dashikis are in me
But memories of surrender – not in me
My father’s memory is in me
Memories of Baltimore Jim Crow and DC’s march on Washington are in me
Memories of redemption sermons and revolution speeches are in me
But memories of being a follower – not in me
My parents’ pen flows through me
Their prayers hold me up
Their love – the wind beneath my wings
And their human mistakes reminding of the possibility of resurrection
For the spirit in them did not begin with them
It reaches back to southern plantations
It dances across the middle passage
It pre-dates the point of no return
It resides in the rhythms, textiles, genius, soul of a Continent
It runs through empty tomb and Calvary Cross
It runs in the wilderness and the garden
It was present at the beginning of the beginning
I am daughter of John and Cecelia
I am daughter of Africa and America
I am daughter of Alpha and Omega
I am daughter of legacies that must be passed on
I stand on invisible shoulders holding tip toeing children over my head
I take my place in this chain
Having the same faith as my ancestors
That those who come after me will transcend me
Not forgetting me but carrying our legacy to altitudes beyond our reach
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