Women and Community – Page 3 – Feminism and Religion

Sing Anyway by Dr. Jamie Marich

I often find myself sitting in conservative Catholic spaces. My brother is a Roman Catholic priest in the Dominican order and I remain in support of his vocation. Every time, before a Mass officially starts, I’m overcome with a sense of: “You belong here…and you don’t.”

The part of me that has always felt at home in a Catholic setting is that love of the ritual and ceremony, the smell of the incense, the familiarity of the chants and songs. It was a Catholic priest, the late Fr. Ciaran O’Donnell, who taught me how to play the guitar and got me started with the healing practice of songwriting. When I sink into these associations, I feel connected to my Croatian ancestors and our Catholic faith. And there’s the other part of me—the queer feminist and an advocate for other queer and transgender people to live the fullest, most open expressions of themselves in all spaces of life, especially faith-based spaces. As a survivor of several forms of sexual assault and as a trauma specialist who has guided countless other survivors in their healing process over the years, I can’t sit in a Catholic Church and not feel uneasy about the legacy of abuse and silencing survivors within the church. Between my queer identity and dedication to supporting survivors, I feel that I don’t belong.

Dear Mr. Vance, Love, A Childless Cat Lady

I am a writer, one who sometimes touches on personal issues. But this is the first time I elaborate on why I don’t have children, no doubt, provoked by your “childless cat lady” jibe.

I am childless or childfree; to me, it is a matter of semantics. I have two cats whom I consider my children. In many ways, I am like most Americans; I love my job, I love my students, I love my colleagues.

And I love my cats.

Healing What Ails Us and Coming Together: Politics and Other Forbidden Subjects by Caryn MacGrandle

I met my best friend growing up in Third Grade. I moved around the country after high school, but regardless, her and I have managed to stay in touch. I spoke with her last weekend and asked about her parents. Even though its been years since I’ve seen them, I remember them as if it were yesterday. Going out to their cabin at Lake Texoma. Seeing them around the house.

You see Kim and I were tight. We saw each other pretty much daily for years. In some ways it was a much more innocent time. I remember summers leaving the house in the morning and not going back until sunset, muddy and barefoot. Crawdads and horse models. Playgrounds and baseball games.

But in some ways, it was a much less innocent time. We dabbled in quite a lot that we should not have as the term helicopter parent was unheard of. Our skies were wide open. The good and the bad. The large majority of us were latch key kids, and we raised ourselves. No apps to tell our parents where we were or check in. We went as the wind blew us.

Priestesses of the Shtetl? The Jewish Women Spiritual Leaders of Eastern Europe by Annabel Gottfried Cohen

‘Four thousand years ago, in the ancient Near East, women were poets, drummers, scholars, dancers, healers, prophets and keepers of sacred space.’ In The Hebrew Priestess (2015), Rabbi Jill Hammer argues that as the Israelite cult became more centralised, leadership roles were restricted to men and women’s spiritual leadership was gradually repressed. Yet, as Hammer and co-author Taya Shere demonstrate, ‘the remnants of the priestesshood remain for those who seek them out.’ Combining a close reading of biblical and rabbinic texts, alongside other contemporary sources and archaeological evidence, Hammer has identified thirteen models or netivot of feminine Jewish leadership, which she argues persisted, albeit in altered and marginalised forms, into the medieval, early modern and even modern periods. My own research supports these conclusions, suggesting that Hammer’s netivot framework provides a useful lens by which to better understand Jewish women’s traditions that, in a patriarchal culture, have often been marginalised.

Ritual Theatre for What Ails You by Caryn MacGrandle

Tanishka the Moon Woman at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in August in Scotland

The power of the Eleusinian Mysteries: “so powerful that ‘people in Greco-Roman civilization came to Eleusis to be initiated every fall for almost 1300 years.” The greatest “mystery” about the Mysteries is that they were secret; only the initiates knew what had happened there.”*

Yesterday, I spoke with Tanishka Moon Woman. I have known Tanishka’s work since I began the divine feminine app a decade ago. It was wildly popular. I believe she had about 400,000 in her facebook group. Tanishka has 27 years of writing books, hosting and teaching Red Tents amongst other online and in person offerings. She travels extensively between Australia, Bali and the UK.

Thirst for Knowledge, Thirst for Rain: Women’s Seeds and Symbols in Southern Morocco by Laura Shannon

Last week, once again, I had the good fortune to bring a small group of dancing friends to southern Morocco. As always, our travels there unfolded in a blessed and beautiful way, rich in experiences of ancient Berber/Amazigh culture and encounters with local women.

At Tioute oasis in the foothills of the Anti-Atlas mountains, we bought unleavened flatbread baked in rounded clay ovens.

*Bread ovens at Tioute oasis, southern Morocco. Photo: Laura Shannon*

The Policing of Muslim Women’s Speech: Invited, then Silenced on a Women’s History Month Panel by Dr. Hadia Mubarak

Moderator’s Note: This is part 1 of a 2 part series. A version of this article first appeared in The Charlotte Post on March 25

In her paradigm-shifting book, Why I am No Longer a Feminist: A Feminist Manifesto, Jessa Crispin reminds us that having token “female representation” does not solve the problem of systemic oppression or marginalization. I was recently reminded of this truth when a female co-panelist attempted to silence me twice, when I shared my perspective on women’s challenges in Gaza.

On March 20, I joined an all-female interfaith panel for an elite retirement community center in Charlotte, NC in honor of Women’s History Month. As three female panelists, we were invited to represent our respective faiths, Judaism, Islam, and Christianity. After we each responded to the scripted questions posed to us, community members began to ask us questions. One man stood up and said, “I have visited Jordan, Egypt, and Israel. Will it be safe to travel to Israel again given the current situation?”

The Painful Problem and How the Divine Feminine is the Answer by Caryn MacGrandle

Two young kids and an Airline Pilot husband who got caught in the 911 lay-offs, a first divorce, struggling, a second marriage and struggling again. Moving around the country with no ties and not knowing many people. I remember after my first marriage having to move to a less expensive neighborhood, I had the thought “Match.com? I don’t need a Match.com, I need a Friend.com!”

Only “Friend.Com” doesn’t work. It is awkward to go out to lunch “Do you want to be my friend?”

And so I remained isolated and struggling alone.

I drank daily in order to quell my anxiety and fall asleep.

Archives from the FAR Founders: We are Worth the Time it Takes to Create a Practice by Xochitl Alvizo

Incarnation, Goddess spirituality, Xochitl Alvizo, god became flesh This was originally posted on September 10, 2014. It seems relevant to me these days as I continue to develop practices for my groundedness, community, and well-being.

Recently, in response to the excellent conversation following Nancy Vedder-Shults’ post on the goddess Kali, Carol Christ commented to Nancy, “I too love our conversations, wish there was more in depth talk on our blog [FAR], maybe there will be.” Carol’s comment* struck a deep chord within me. One of the main objectives that the FAR co-founders had in creating Feminism and Religion was that it be a place where we could and would engage with one another across a diversity of feminist issues and the broad range of feminist passions and work – where we could discuss, critique, and build upon on each other’s efforts.

So two things came to mind as I reflected on Carol’s comment. The first was my personal lament that I have not been as actively participating in the discussions that follow the FAR blog posts as I did when we first started Feminism and Religion. FAR has such rich and valuable material – it really does provide a great opportunity for conversation and dialogue – and sadly I have been a passive participant as of late. I read and learn from the discussions, but I have not been joining in. I lament that. FAR is definitely a place where I could engage with others in deep conversations, but how actively am I actually doing this? Continue reading “Archives from the FAR Founders: We are Worth the Time it Takes to Create a Practice by Xochitl Alvizo”

Memorializing Grief and Trauma by Stephanie Arel

On Monday, March 18^th, I joined a webinar developed by Dr. John Seitz and Sonia de Silva Monteiro at Fordham University. The panel included myself, Dr. Layla Karst, Assistant Professor of Theological Studies from Loyola Marymount, and Dr. Alana Harris, Reader in Modern British Social, Cultural and Gender History at King’s College London. All offered valuable insights to the topic: “Memorializing Clergy Sexual Abuse: An Interdisciplinary Conversation about the Ethics, Means, and Meanings of Sex Abuse Memorials.” The panel represented one of a series you can follow here.

My presentation featured some things I learned from researching my last book Bearing Witness: The Wounds of Trauma at Memorial Museums. The text focuses on memorial museums, illuminating methods of memorializing human suffering, suffering that penetrates workers’ personal lives. In fact, people preserving painful memories and histories often labor (physically and emotionally) from a place of personal wounding. From nine sites across the globe, 82 interviews revealed that 35% of the people engaged in memorializing mass trauma in a museum setting are survivors of the event they commemorate; 35% are family members of those who suffered or died; and the remaining signify community members, who are not impacted directly by the event or events commemorated but care deeply about those who were.