In my two previous posts, I shared my recent experience talking about privilege at a church near me. Today, I will wrap up this short series with a more personal reflection about privilege from a Christian perspective. Last month, I was thinking theologically about what those of us who have privilege should do with it. But, as feminists and womanists, acknowledging our privilege can be complicated. Most of us in this FAR community do possess some forms of privilege while, at the same time, we lack other forms of privilege. Each of us remains the same person wherever we go, yet our status can change when we switch contexts. As a black woman, I do not have white privilege or male privilege. But I am privileged when it comes to education and class and physical ability. I am a Christian who works at a Christian university in a part of Texas that is culturally predominantly Christian. So that’s a form of privilege. Although as a single woman without children, I don’t fit the cultural norm where I live, my sexual orientation and cis-gendered identity afford me some privilege, too.
Continue reading “Coming to Terms with Privilege: A Personal Reflection by Elise M. Edwards”


It wasn’t really fire. I came home to Lesbos from a soulful
Originally published on July 8, 2013 on FAR under the title “What Is Patriotism?,” this blog asks questions that seem even more important today, when tanks have been paraded in front of the Lincoln Memorial and children are held in appalling conditions at our borders because their parents dared to seek asylum in the United States.
Oh boy oh boy oh boy—another June 17 has passed (I’m writing this on June 18) and I’m still here. Every year, this is my day to be careful. And to keep breathing. I have two specific associations with June 17. The first, and lesser, is that it is (or was) the birthday of my last serious boyfriend. I really thought we were going to get married. That didn’t happen, and as we were breaking up, he gave me a (probably expensive) bottle of My Sin perfume. I hurled it against the wall behind the dumpster. So much for that. And him.
It’s about every three years when we at Feminism and Religions put out a solicitation for a new intern to join our team. Back in 2013 we had the great privilege of having
I finally figured out what my feminist superpower is: I shrink the genitals of insecure men. No, really– all it takes is a few words, or sometimes just a look, without saying anything. Sometimes all it takes is not looking at them and saying nothing. And sometimes, all it takes is me existing in this world, without even being aware of their existence.
I opened my email earlier today, July 2, and received news that my beloved, retired colleague, Conrad Gromada, passed away this morning. My grief was and is giant. I am here now flooded with memories of the nearly twenty years I had the pleasure of knowing and working with one of the world’s truest gentlemen. It is appropriate that I take a moment here to acknowledge Dr. Gromada, that I extend my love and condolences to his wife, Annette Gromada, and that I tell this readership about the most pro-woman Catholic man I ever met.
Root Woman
It is the first of July—half way through 2019. I remember that I and many of my friends were very glad for the end of 2018; it was a hard year of many heavy events and we looked forward to a fresh start, a new year. It’s hard to accept that half of that “new year” is over. What is different? What is new?