Feminist Ethics – Feminism and Religion

Comrades in the Struggle – Part II by Xochitl Alvizo

This post follows Part I, which you can find here.

My journey of “seeing” continued from undergrad, to my first job, and then into grad school. After eight years of satisfying and life-giving work at the family center in Los Angeles (where I thankfully recovered my sense of self), I moved across the country to attend graduate school at Boston University (BU). I was there for eleven years, completing a Master of Divinity and a Doctor of Philosophy in Practical Theology. And, again, especially during my early years at BU, I was often the only Latina in the room.¹ It was the next predominantly white context where I continued to develop as a scholar and find my way in the academy.

It is the case for most of the Latino/a scholars I know that they too were often one of just a few, if not only, Latino/a doctoral students in their program.² This has varied impacts. Being continually in places where you do not share the culture of the majority can be taxing, psychically and emotionally. It is work.

Comrades in the Struggle – Part I by Xochitl Alvizo

I was born and raised in Los Angeles, a city where one can still get away with growing up in majority “minority” schools and neighborhoods. And I mostly did. I attended an elementary school that was ninety-eight percent Latinx, with a great majority of them Mexican-American like me. My junior-high and high schools were each about fifty percent Latinx, with the other fifty percent from a diverse range of racial/ethnic backgrounds. While my context was not monocultural, it was definitely not white.

Once I reached college, however, my context flipped. I attended a private research institution that was over fifty percent white, which is known for admitting students of affluent legacy families. College was the first time I found myself in a predominantly white context and encountered real financial wealth. Before college I had only known financially rich people in TV and movies. I truly hadn’t known that “being rich” was real. And it was also the first time I learned about Protestantism. Catholicism was the only Christianity I knew – though I did know about Jehovah’s Witnesses because they go door-to-door.

Maryam Rajavi by Yalda Roshan

My name is Yalda. I am a woman from the Iranian resistance who, for many years, has fought for women’s equality and worked to amplify the voices of Iranian women around the world. Today, I want to share with you the source of inspiration and motivation that has guided my path.

Covering every aspect of Maryam Rajavi’s life and thought in one article is a challenge, so today I will focus only on what has personally influenced me: her perspective on women.

She herself is a woman who has spent decades fighting against two dictatorships—the Shah’s and the misogynistic clerical regime—and believes that women can change the world. A brief overview of her biography: she was born on December 4, 1953, in Tehran and is a metallurgical engineer from Sharif University of Technology in Tehran. From her teenage years, she embarked on the path of struggle, learning from action rather than words.

Go, Dodger Blue? by Xochitl Alvizo

Attending a Dodger game as a four- or five-year-old with my uncle, the biggest Dodger fan I ever met, was my first professional sporting events experience. To this day, I’m not a sports fan by any means, but if you ever do catch me watching or rooting for a sports team, it will be for the Dodgers, as it got wired into me at a very young age.

So, I was one of the 51 million people across the U.S., Canada, and Japan tuning-in to watch the 7^th game of the 2025 World Series between the Dodgers and the Blue Jays. I cheered, clapped, and whoo-hoo’d as the Dodgers made the final winning double-play in yet another extra-innings game in the series. But it was not without mixed feelings that I cheered on the team that has been part of my life and family upbringing.

From the Archives: Careful Criticism: Resisting Hetero-Patriarchy while Resisting Trump by Sara Frykenberg

This was originally posted on May 2, 2017

My students are taking their final exams this week, which means I will be spending the week frantically, but attentively grading in order to make our grade submission deadline next week. End of semester grading is a mountain of careful criticism we educators scale one step at a time, with deliberateness, towards an ultimate goal of student success (if not in our classes, then in the next, or in life, relationships, etc.). Thus, I often find myself returning to the question: what am I hoping to create in what I say and write, and in how I critique?

One of the goals of feminist pedagogies is to help us prevent recreating the domination of kyrio-patriarchy in classroom spaces. While activism is not the same thing as education, and strategies of resistance are different than pedagogy in important ways, the concern for careful critique is warranted in both praxes. What do we create in how we critique, resist, and protest? What do we recreate, wittingly or no? I have found myself concerned with this since the election of Trump, DT (cause I can only write that name so many times), to the presidency. Continue reading “From the Archives: Careful Criticism: Resisting Hetero-Patriarchy while Resisting Trump by Sara Frykenberg”

Feminism – the small and the large of it by Xochitl Alvizo

Feminism’s critical principle is the affirmation and promotion of the full humanity of women; an assertion that must be made in light of a world that diminishes women’s dignity and autonomy thereby authorizing their subjugation. Sexism is the word we use to name the attitudes, prejudices, and actions that work to diminish women’s dignity and autonomy for their subjugation. Patriarchy is the resultant ossified system of those attitudes, prejudices, and actions as they become the norm.

THIS IS HOW WE DO IT: In These United States, September 2025 by Marie Cartier

Poem:

Photo of author at banner drop action, August 2025, “Be Brave With Us.”

Part I

We didn’t want to believe we had lost so much, so fast-

Our dignity perhaps and certainly our ability to speak entirely freely

We didn’t want to believe that we had lost so much so fast—

Our ability to be connected to each other, to form a more perfect union

We didn’t want to believe that we had lost so much so fast—

But when they took away the comediennes whose job it was to help us make fun of ourselves…when they took away the gatekeepers of clean water and renewable energy and when they took away the scientists working to cure children’s cancer…

when they took away took away took away

You see we didn’t want to believe that we had lost so much so fast

Our flag for instance didn’t make sense and our statue of liberty and justice for all,

her torch reaching into a sky littered with planes of those being deported to cages without due process

It happens so fast –the loss it happens so fast
We learned that it takes a long time to build good
We realized it doesn’t take long to tear it down meaning the failure to keep the good
The holes in the flag were gaping and we could see through them
we saw images of the sick, the old and …women and children always go first.
We didn’t realize we had lost so much… until it was gone

“Over the Edge of the World” by Elizabeth Cunningham: A Book Review by Judith Shaw

Elizabeth Cunningham’s new book is a marvel you won’t want to miss. It’s subtitled, “A Fairytale Novel” which lets you know you are in for a magical experience. Fairytales have meaning and contain wonder, beauty and truth. Fairytales awaken new insights for the reader, inspiring us all to think more deeply about our world. “Over the Edge of the World” certainly does all that. It will leave you pondering the difficult reality of our world today and the sacrifice and grit needed to create it anew.

From the Archives: America, The Beautiful by Marie Cartier

This was originally posted August, 2018

There is a very white woman in a Lexus.
I could say her license plate number, but does it matter?
She’s that woman you’ve heard about—yelling at a brown woman
holding a sign, “I’ve lost my job. I have two kids. Help.”

The white woman leans out of her Lexus, “Go away! Go away!”
She will not move as other cars pile up behind her and the brown woman
does not “go away.” Where could she go at this point?
She’s surrounded. I watch from my car as I’m about to leave. I
take the yelling white woman’s picture. I get her license plate number. Continue reading “From the Archives: America, The Beautiful by Marie Cartier”

Legacy of Carol P. Christ: Kamala Harris! “I Feel Heard”

This was originally posted on August 17, 2020

Shortly after Kamala Harris was announced as Joe Biden’s choice for his Vice Presidential running mate, a panel of black women were asked, “How do you feel right now?” “I feel heard” was the simple yet profound response of one of them. As is well-known to those who follow the polls, black women voters are the backbone of the Democratic party. In the primary election, black women in South Carolina delivered the Presidential nomination to Joe Biden. Yet all too often black women have felt that their votes were taken for granted.

Instead of focusing on the needs and priorities of black women and their communities, all too often the Democratic Party’s strategy has been to reach out to other groups—for example working class white men or white suburban women. To feel heard at this moment means to be taken seriously as a political actor and as a person. Right now, the fact that a black woman was selected is what matters most. There were other qualified women and out of all of them. a black woman, Kamala Harris was chosen. And because of this, black women feel heard. It’s about time. Period.