DeeDee & Helen—A Trans Love Story, Part I by Mary Gelfand

Author’s Note:  I am a cis woman writing about a trans woman who was my friend.  What I know about her experience comes from stories she told me, and things I learned from her wife Helen, who has given me permission to share this story.  So I am not writing from a position of personal knowledge of what it means to be trans.  I am writing out of compassion for and sensitivity to the lived experience of my friend DeeDee and of trans individuals across the globe.

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I first met DeeDee when I stopped by my Unitarian Universalist church to drop off a colorful triangular hand-woven shawl I had made for the upcoming auction.  DeeDee was sitting behind the desk, recording the items that were being donated and we chatted a for a few minutes.  In those days, I was teaching a variety of classes on Paganism and the Divine Feminine at the church. She asked if I was the Mary who taught these classes and expressed interest in joining one  That is how our friendship began.  I later learned that she made the winning bid on the shawl I donated that day.  

DeeDee was assigned male at birth–the oldest child in a large Catholic family residing in New Orleans, Louisiana.  Naturally she attended Catholic schools.  DeeDee briefly considered a life of religious service and enrolled in St. Joseph’s Seminary.  However, being extremely intelligent and given to questioning everything, DeeDee was soon pegged as a troublemaker and she and the Brothers parted ways.

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Missing Trees by Beth Bartlett

“Tree of Life” photo by author

The gap in the trees is a painful reminder of the one that is missing. This past winter an ice and wind storm late in the season brought down the aspen that had sheltered our deck. Its absence is more than a hole in the canopy – it is a hole in the heart. I miss its friendly presence, its shelter, its shade.  I suspect I never fully appreciated it until now.  It is just the latest in a long line of missing trees – trees lost to disease, insects, climate change.

The paper birch were the first to go. When my dad first bought our family cottage in 1964, paper birch trees arched delicately over the cottage, framing it in white branches against the blue sky.  Another large birch stood as a landmark on the top of the hill, and another by the lake was the centerpiece of the circular bench built around it.  Several more lined the path down to the lake and dotted the hillside.

“Mama” birch, photo by author

When we bought our home in Duluth, paper birches graced the yard on all sides.  In the woods out back I’d befriended several of the birches, naming them according to their distinctive shapes – there was the “Mama” birch with its bulging pregnant belly, the three then four-clump birches that I’d named after our music group – “Wild By Nature,” and the glorious “Tree of Life” – a magnificent clump birch of at least twenty connected trunks that served as a talisman for me during the most difficult days of my illness and for many years after my transplant. 

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Memorial Day Reflection 26 by Sara Wright

 Every year I dread this weekend that honors  dead soldiers. Let me make it clear that I have lost relatives to wars – uncles I loved including my first cousin who was killed six weeks after arriving in Vietnam having just graduated from West Point. I grieve too but Patriarchy and Nationalism have brought us to this dark door that we pass through each spring when the rest of nature is celebrating renewal.

We honor the fallen in war even as we indoctrinate our young boys and girls into the next generation of patriarchal power, hatred for the enemy, and war games. All this patriotism indicates that we choose to learn nothing from the past.

A couple of nights ago I watched Bob Dylan performing with others in The Rolling Thunder Revue for the first time. By 1975 the earnest/ peaceful/nature focused folk era was over. Dylan was playing electric/rock and roll and had lost some of his followers. Nixon was president and war was back in the game. The so called ‘hippies’ were outlawed, ridiculed and dismissed as druggies. This generation whose protests ended the war in Vietnam.

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Legacy of Carol P. Christ: Facing Depression by Carol P. Christ

This was originally posted on August 25, 2014

carol mitzi sarah

The suicide death of Robin Williams prompted me to reflect again on my own experience with depression and to share my story in the hope that it can help others.

In my twenties, thirties, and forties, I suffered severe intermittent depressions. My life in those days was a series of ups and downs. When I feel in love and was having good sex, I was in love with the world and could literally feel energy radiating from my body connecting it to the world. When I was dumped, the energy retreated, and I crawled into a dark hole of despair and self-pity from which there seemed to be no escape. In the in-between times, I carried on my life with neither the highs or the lows.

In recent days, a number of people have tried to describe what depression feels like. Here is what it felt like to me.

It was as if my mind had a single track on which were repeated a few deadly words: “No one loves me. No one will ever love me. I might as well die.” I could not erase the track or jump to another one. The words repeated themselves relentlessly in my mind.

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Islam: A Feminist/Womanist Faith by Jamilah Ali

American media and the Taliban in Afghanistan have both long disparaged Islam regarding the status of women. I would like not only to correct the contention that women are second-class, but to provide for you an argument that Islam is, based on our Prophet and the Holy Quran, a feminist and egalitarian religion. It has been falsely maligned.

For your convenience I will use the English word for Allah, God, throughout this piece. (Did you know Arabic speaking Christians call God; Allah?)

Please note Muslims believe that all the Holy Books, the Bible and Torah, were indeed revelations from God. Belief in all the Holy Books is one of Islams 7 articles of faith. However, according to Muslim creed the Bible has been changed by humans through time deliberately or not. Thus Quran, the most recent revelation sent 610 years after Christ, is relatively unaltered from its original. It was radical, even then, for providing women the rights to inheritance, to have their own money and property, and for them to retain the dowry paid for marriage, not the father.

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From the Archives: Gift-Economy in a Time of Lack by Elisabeth S.

This was originally posted on May 17, 2019

Carol Christ wrote about gift economy on this blog in 2013, and I am taken by her story of the woman who brought raisins or cracked nuts to the group even though she had very little. In beginning to encounter the literature on gift economy myself, I am wondering how it all works, especially wondering, perhaps outside of such a conversation if it doesn’t relate or misses the point, what someone who feels they have nothing to give can give.

When Genevieve Vaughan wrote about gift economy in Ms. Magazine in 1991, she wrote, “where there is enough, we can abundantly nurture others. The problem is that scarcity is usually the case, artificially created in order to maintain control, so that other-orientation becomes difficult and self-depleting.”

I think we start to look for other ways of existing when we experience the brokenness of a current existence. The exchange economy under mindless capitalism does not honor equal, fair exchanges. If we could keep from manipulating and being deceptive about what a product is worth, if we could more generously assess the contribution of workers, then some of us might not be bothered. Of course, for that work which is never compensated by money, mostly women’s work, that is the other issue that might not be solved by more equal exchange, and probably more the point of Vaughn’s.

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From the Archives: A Poem for Our Abortion Rights by Marie Cartier

This was originally posted on June 24, 2022

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Fecundity: the ability to produce an abundance of new growth, but also the ability to produce new ideas

And now in the hour of our discontent, we are asked to worry about

fecundity. I suppose we can call it that—have we made enough babies yet?

As a people. A people ruled by patriarchy. No small thing. “A social system in which males dominate and hold primary power.”

Oh my god—am I sick of it? Anyone with a brain is sick of it…I want to think.

But they have brains, right? The afore mentioned patriarchs? Who are

creating this new social system?

A meme goes out on social media—I’m not pro-murder I’m pro-Ellen, thirteen years old and pregnant by her father

I’m pro-Margaret, with five kids and I cannot to afford to feed another

I’m pro-Eliza, pregnant with a baby known to have serious birth defects

I’m pro– you get the idea.

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From the Archives: Hagar and Intersectionality by Marilyn Batchelor

This was originally posted on May 15, 2020

I began to follow Kimberlé Crenshaw a little more than five years ago when I first learned of her theory of intersectionality as a more concise description of oppressions stemming from race, age, gender, sex/sexual orientation, religion and socio-economic status. 

In Delores Williams’ book, Sisters in the Wilderness, there is a closer look at womanist theology as it relates to Intersectionality. The focus on traditions of biblical appropriation that emphasize liberation of the oppressed “showed God relating to men in the liberation struggles,” Williams says in the introduction. “In some African American spiritual songs, in slave narratives and in sermons by black preachers, reference was made to biblical stories and personalities who were involved in liberation struggle.” 

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From the Archives: Creating Space: Mosques Affirming All Bodies, Minds, and Hearts by Laury Silvers

This was originally posted on December 31, 2013

Silvers, Bio Pic FRBlog

In my first blog for Feminism and Religion, I discussed the cognitive and embodied dissonance that some Muslims experience as a result of historically (not eternally) gendered ritual forms. I ended with a promise to share with readers the ways in which el-Tawhid Juma Circle mosques try to create space to break free of those forms. Our mosques affirm all human beings as spiritually, socially, and ritually equal and try to break down the social hierarchy of ritual and theological leadership by opening up a space for all bodies, minds, and hearts to lead and follow as equals among each other.

Breaking out of cognitive and embodied dissonance requires cognitive and embodied habituation to what Amina Wadud names, “The Tawhidic Principle.”  Meaning, the space must be one in which human beings can embody divine oneness by recognizing that their relationships with each other are on the horizontal plane and refrain from mediating between any other individual and God on the vertical plane.  Wadud has described it as a triangle in which God is at the top with self and other at the two points beneath. Each has an individual relationship with God and a relationship of reciprocitous community with each other. Wadud argues that to mediate between another and God is nothing other than idolatry because the mediator forces another to accept that satisfying his expectations is the same as satisfying God.

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Reflections on Betrayal by Sara Wright

Recently I read an essay on FAR about how Ruth Ginsberg’s Jewish roots influenced her life in a positive way. When her mother died, she was excluded from mourning because she was a woman.

This important exclusion a fundamental form of woman betrayal left an impression and sent a powerful message that inspired and influenced Ginsberg’s life and career  – she did not count – she had no voice – she had no authority to speak. (Paraphrased from FAR). We all know how influential this woman became and how she modeled staying with the process to the end of her life.

 Ginsberg is one powerful example of a woman who used her betrayal experience to make powerful changes in her life – a true heroine (why do we call women ‘heroes’ today?) This story reflects my belief that it is critically important to acknowledge our religious roots because these myths do affect us regardless of whether we adhere to them or not.

  For Christians, Palm Sunday marks the beginning of holy week – a week that ended in betrayal and the tragic death of someone who was a mystic, healer,  a man who created loving space for women and was supported by them during his life and after his death. The saddest part of this story for me is that this was a man who cared about women and the earth. Not a patriarchal man. I see the resurrection as a natural occurrence because the soul  stays present for a time after death for those who are closest to that person.

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