intersectionality – 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.

On Reading by Ivy Helman

I would not say that I was much of a reader growing up. Doctoral studies and years of education had turned me off of reading as something pleasurable. Instead, it had become a task, an item on my to-do list, often, a chore. It was also not that joyful since I have struggled with some form of dyslexia all my life.

But, now, I would say I am embracing reading. I have talked on this blog about my love of dystopian books before, but I also enjoy fantasy books, historical fictions, feminist retellings of myths, the occasional thriller, and so on. In terms of format, I read both paper books and audio books. The joy of audiobooks is the freedom to read when commuting, cooking, doing laundry, walking the dog, relaxing on the couch, etc. They have opened up the possibility of enjoying two activities at once sometimes and other times making a difficult activity more bearable.

The Webs We Weave, by Molly Remer

Each year, as fall peeks around the door tasting the air and sending cool tendrils of change slipping across the horizon and skimming across our shoulders, I feel clarity descend, a sharp and sudden certainty that I do know exactly what I want to do and where I want to focus.

In early September, we watched an orb weaver spider make her web by our studio. Much faster than we might have imagined, she tumbled gracefully through almost empty space, connecting long strands from porch gutter to hydrangea bush, returning to the center often to stabilize before launching into the next direction. The sun was setting and we stayed captivated by her dedicated intention, moving next around the middle and expanding from the center rapidly connecting her many threads. Finally, we walked on the road, watching the sunset illuminating the bluestem grasses in the field as the nighthawks darted bat-like above our heads on their annual migration. We returned to the web at dusk surprised to see how much finer the structure had become, each strand now laid very close to the one above it in a radiating circle. As we watched, I felt a sense of liberation chiming in my bones, freedom that comes from knowing with firm and dedicated awareness which way to go, trusting the threads of my own life to hold me as I make my way with both purpose and grace.

100 Years After Women’s Right to Vote, Our Feminist Struggle Continues by Gina Messina

The first time I called myself a feminist, I think I was twelve years old. Growing up in a traditional Sicilian Catholic household, misogyny was ever-present. There were clear expectations of me and my brother based on our gender and these ideas were grounded in our religion. I didn’t realize how problematic this was until much later; but by age twelve I was asking questions and knew that it wasn’t fair that my brother could be an altar server and I couldn’t…because I was a girl.

A few years ago, I experienced a shift in my life. I am not sure how to explain it. Some might call it a midlife crisis; but I’m inclined to define it as an awakening, at least a partial awakening. I won’t foolishly claim that I am suddenly enlightened; however I began to question my own identity as a feminist. Continue reading “100 Years After Women’s Right to Vote, Our Feminist Struggle Continues by Gina Messina”

What’s Changed? by Elise M. Edwards

Friends, it has been a few months since I’ve posted in this community. I’m amazed at how much our world has changed since then. Here in the northern hemisphere, spring came and went. It felt like a tide of turmoil rolled in, leaving debris all along the shore and now we are trying to clean it up while keeping our eyes on the sea for more dangerous waves that are coming.

The issues we now face began before March, but for many of us, that was when the COVID-19 pandemic began to alter our patterns of daily existence. In-person instruction at my university and most schools was suspended and spring semester courses shifted online. In March and April, we quarantined, self-isolated, and sheltered in place. While a gradual re-opening of businesses and services has occurred in the months since then, I don’t know anyone who has resumed daily life as it was before. The virus continues to spread and the death toll rises.

Continue reading “What’s Changed? by Elise M. Edwards”

In Search of Insight by Gina Messina

A conversation I often have with students is focused on the ways mission and purpose are inextricably linked with our roles as human beings. Understanding what it means to say that human beings have a specific purpose can feel overwhelming and spiral us into an existential crisis; a hallmark of a “Messina class,” according to one of my students.

Regardless of religious or spiritual beliefs, we must know that we are called to a particular mission within our lives. We are gifted with knowledge and abilities that contribute to a greater whole. And when we are willing to see our own missions through, we become part of a collective effort that honors the humanity of all.

For many of us, we have a mission; an understanding of our purpose and how we can engage our communities to work toward positive social change. But as time passes, we grow, our circumstances shift, and we gain insight; as a result, our missions need to reshape.

For women, and particularly women of color, our ability to understand and engage our missions have been bogged down with oppressive structures that devalue our contributions. Dualism has forced women into roles of passive care takers who always put themselves last. Acknowledging the critique of white feminism, women of color experience such roles in a far more damaging way, expected to not only care for their own families; but also serve those who society has claimed to have a higher status based on race and wealth. Although we too are made in the image of God, our full humanity is often denied, with intersecting identities determining our level of worthiness in this broken world. Continue reading “In Search of Insight by Gina Messina”

Dialogue as Revolution by Gina Messina

It was through these many conversations that I continued a dialogue with myself about my own role in the divisive nature of our relationships and the need to acknowledge individual identity and lived experience in relation to one’s perspective.

Over this past year, I’ve been in an uncomfortable place of searching and growth. Challenges and life transformations have left me struggling with my own identity, beliefs, and values and I continue to grapple with questions feeling a bit lost in this destructive world of political civil war here in the U.S. Having the privilege to teach, speak, and write publicly about my ideas, I have been particularly focused on is whether I am part of the problem or the solution.

Recently, I was humbled to deliver the 40th Annual Nash Lecture at Campion College; a Catholic Jesuit institution at the University of Regina in Saskatchewan, Canada. My visit to Campion was soul feeding. I met incredible scholars, administrators, students, and community members who embraced me with generosity and compassion. I felt overwhelmed — in a positive way — by the spirit of hospitality and friendship and was impressed by the inquisitive, articulate, and respectful students who were enthusiastic to connect with me and further explore their own questions about feminism and faith. Continue reading “Dialogue as Revolution by Gina Messina”

Mary of Magdala and Intersectionality by Gina Messina

We recently celebrated the feast day of St. Mary of Magdala, a woman who is responsible for the founding of the Christian tradition and a model of what it means to live up to the role and expectation of being a human being.

Committed to Jesus’ message of love, inclusion, liberation, and social justice, she funded his ministry and in his darkest hour, when the male apostles had abandoned him, Mary of Magdala stood at the foot of the cross.

The Gospels honor her as the person Jesus chose to reveal his resurrected self to – and the first person to preach the message of the Risen Christ — a message initially met with utter disbelief by the male apostles. This male dominated book was careful to ensure that the world knew that Mary of Magdala — a woman — had a primary role in Jesus’ ministry and the establishing of Christianity. Without her – we would not know the message of Jesus as we do today.

We see how she has been punished for this. The shifting of her identity dictated by the patriarchal structures of the Church is well demonstrated through art history. Early on her image was shared as a woman who was respected – her head covered and wearing colors that signified her position of importance. Following the not so accidental interpretation of Mary of Magdala as a prostitute in 591 CE by Pope Gregory I, suddenly the imagery changes to a woman with red hair, long and flowing, often nude, begging to be forgiven. What better way to silence a woman than call her a whore? Continue reading “Mary of Magdala and Intersectionality by Gina Messina”

When “Interfaith” Started Losing its Luster for Me by Valentina Khan

Interfaith, a wonderful term that brings only happiness to my mind. So many days spent sitting and planning out events at the local coffee shop (shout out to The Lost Bean in Tustin, CA. which was one of the first small businesses to support “interfaith work”) and attending many meetings at various houses of worship. We worked year after year to promote one another. To get to know each other, to promote peace, and community building. I sat in living rooms, hearing different faith perspectives from many voices, from the young up to the old and wise. Each time it was refreshing to see the dedication and respect the participants had.

But, after 10 years of advocating for interfaith work, my light dimmed. For me in particular, Islamaphobia was on the rise. Terrorist attacks were plentiful, and I was out of excuses. How many times could I say “this isn’t Islam. These aren’t Muslims, this is not what the religion teaches, I would not be a part of a religion that promoted violence.” I was getting tired of showing up, explaining, defending, and leaving wondering if I made a difference or if another terrorist attack would simply negate everything I just said? Eventually, I retreated into the cocoon of motherhood, and building my career. My days of community service within the interfaith context were done. I had no more mojo, encouragement or inspiration. I really didn’t. I was just done. My last speaking engagement was over a year ago to a group of Catholic moms, such a great talk but I didn’t feel the urge to go back and talk more. It’s like a flower that wilted. Petals fell off, and nothing was left to blossom.

Continue reading “When “Interfaith” Started Losing its Luster for Me by Valentina Khan”

Celtic Myth, Moon Blood, and the White Beauty Standard by Marisa Goudy

My woman’s body is entering the dark time of the moon, even with blinding white snow lashing the windows, even with a full moon tracing its way far above thick clouds. My mood is black and soon I’ll be flowing red, and the snow will just drive on white, white, white.

In The White Goddess, Robert Graves tells us: “…the New Moon is the white goddess of birth and growth; the Full Moon, the red goddess of love and battle; the Old Moon, the black goddess of death and divination.”

The Celt in me feels cradled by this imagery, even if, as Judith Shaw and Carol P. Christ have pointed out elsewhere on this site, the idea of maid, mother, and crone is a modern invention, not gift from the past. I agree with Christ: “My suggestion is that we give up the idea that the details of contemporary Goddess Spirituality are rooted in and authorized by tradition. We can instead acknowledge that though we are inspired by the past, we are the ones who are creating contemporary Goddess Spirituality.”

Continue reading “Celtic Myth, Moon Blood, and the White Beauty Standard by Marisa Goudy”