I recently completed a chapter for a book on Latinx theologies; it’s the second edition of the Wiley-Blackwell Companion to Latino/a Theology, edited by Orlando O. Espín, but this time with the slightly changed title of Companion to Latinoax Theology—aiming to be more inclusive in its umbrella term. The project has 35 contributors and covers everything from interreligious dialogue and care for creation, to race, racism and latinoax cultures, as well as chapters on such subjects as Christology, the bible, and ecclesiology. My particular chapter was about the intersection of gender, feminisms, and Latinoax theologies—not surprising. But what I loved in the process was a particular emphasis that emerged—decoloniality, like a thread woven throughout the chapter as it evolved; and this I now see as a necessity for Christian theologies. Let me explain.
For every American concerned with Civil Rights this indeed is a sad day. It means states and municipalities—particularly those in the former Confederacy—will in the days following the decision be introducing new legislation which will have the effect of disenfranchising black voters. Those of us who consider the right to vote fundamental in a democracy must rise up, with time, with money, and if necessary with our bodies in peaceful protest.
Tomorrow is a special day for me. It is Juneteenth. On June 19, 1865, news finally reached Galveston, Texas that slavery had been abolished. This was of course two and a half years after Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation. While the actual impact of the emancipation for the enslaved remains a source of historical discussion if not debate, the fact of the matter is that the proclamation of emancipation and the reality of freedom for black women and men did not necessarily coincide. To be sure, for a variety of reasons, the Emancipation Proclamation did not have an immediate impact on the daily lives of enslaved women, men and children. While the “official” historical records marks January 1, 1863 as a day of emancipation, the historical record for the descendants of enslaved men and women marks June 19, 1865 as the day of freedom. For, it was on this day that the last slaves were free
Following the murders of Trayvon Martin and Tamir Rice, Kelly Brown Douglas released her book, Stand Your Ground: Black Bodies and the Justice of God. In this critical work, she details the embedding of structural violence within the doctrine of American Exceptionalism and the deep rooted racial injustice that our nation was founded upon.
Over the last several months, our world has changed. We’ve witnessed great tragedy and there is so much to grieve. COVID-19 intruded upon our lives abruptly forcing the realization of our misplaced priorities. However, systemic racism has always been here, tightly woven into the fabric of our society; yet privileged voices have failed to answer the call for justice.
As so many risk their health and safety to march for racial justice; to exclaim that Black Lives Matter and that George Floyd’s life was indeed sacred (as was Raychard Brooks, Breonna Taylor, Freddie Gray, Sandra Bland, Philandro Castile, Alton Sterling, Eric Garner…#SayTheirNames), we must consider our own responsibility in perpetuating oppressive structures that condone the trend of public lynchings.
Following the murders of Trayvon Martin and Tamir Rice, Kelly Brown Douglas released her book, Stand Your Ground: Black Bodies and the Justice of God. In this critical work, she details the embedding of structural violence within the doctrine of American Exceptionalism and the deep rooted racial injustice that our nation was founded upon. She explains it was not a book that she wanted to write; rather, as a mother of an African American son, it is a book she was compelled to write. In doing so, Kelly has laid bare the sin of our nation. Five years later, her witness continues to demand our attention.
I reached out to Kelly and asked if she would be willing to talk with me about her book and she graciously agreed. Thus, for this post, I am sharing the wisdom of Kelly Brown Douglas, vlog style, knowing that, in this moment, it is her words that we all need to hear.
Gina Messina, Ph.D. is an American feminist scholar, Catholic theologian, activist, and mom. She serves as Associate Professor and Department Chair of Religious Studies at Ursuline College and is co-founder of FeminismAndReligion.com. She has written for the Huffington Post and is author or editor of five books including Women Religion Revolution. Messina is a widely sought after speaker and has presented across the US at universities, organizations, conferences and on national platforms including appearances on MSNBC, Tavis Smiley, NPR and the TEDx stage. She has also spoken at the Commission on the Status of Women at the United Nations to discuss matters impacting the lives of women around the globe. Messina is active in movements to end violence against women and explores opportunities for spiritual healing. Connect with her on Twitter @GMessinaPhD, Instagram: @GinaMessinaPhD, Facebook, and her website ginamessina.com.
This indiscriminate killing is not just of black people, but a disproportionate number of those killed, are black and Latino. In fact, according to the Post, “The rate at which black Americans are killed by police is more than twice as high as the rate for white Americans.”
Sons. Brothers. Fathers. Cousins. Husbands. Dads.
Rayshard Scales, 30
David Tylek Atkinson, 24
Finan H. Berhe, 30
Adrian Medearis, 48
Dreasjon Reed, 21
Jah’Sean Iandie Hodge, 21
Qavon Webb, 23
Demontre Bruner, 21
Brent Martin, 32
Shaun Lee Fuhr, 24
Malcom Xavier Ray Williams, 37
Elmer L. Mack, 40
Chase Rosa, 24
Virgill Thrope, 28
Steven Taylor, 33
Derick L. Powe, no age listed
Jasman Washington, 31
Goldie Bellinger, 39
Zyon Romeir Wyche, 19
Joshua Dariandre Ruffin, 17
Dewayne Curtis Lafond, 45
Idris Abus-Salaam, 33
Nathan R. Hodge, 66 Continue reading “They Too Are America by Karen Leslie Hernandez”
In a recent post I wrote about finding God in music. I confess, I cannot remember the last time I set foot in a church. As a woman, I continually grapple with the foundational messages of Jesus and Catholic Social Teaching and the disconnect with the power structures that seek to control the ways we love and find justice. I long to participate in the culture I grew up in, but cannot support the weaponization of the tradition.
Lately, I’ve come to realize that the messages I connect to I find in music. There are particular songs that offer me the guidance, philosophy, and ideas around meaning and purpose that I resonate with. One of those is “Where’s the Love?” by the Black Eyed Peas.
I’ve been listening to it on repeat lately because it is the sermon I need to hear; it speaks to me and even though it was recorded quite a while ago, it is still relevant. I think it is fair to say that in our current socio-political culture, people are “acting like they got no mamas.”And by the way, I include myself in that statement. Like anyone, I sometimes get so caught up in believing that my way is the only way, I forget to listen to what others have to say.
We are in the midst of a political civil war and are so busy yelling past each other, we’ve forgotten how critical unity is to shaping a healthy government that serves its purpose – caring for the people. Continue reading “Where’s the Love by Gina Messina”
It is in our hearts –one’s sense of superiority exists within. We are all and each capable of hate and bigotry.
It is considered the appropriate and necessary response to say that there is no room for it “here” – that we will not tolerate, in this case, white supremacy – here. Except here is exactly where it exists; here in our country, in our cities, in our communities, laws, structures, churches, homes, hearts and mind. The thread of a people’s sense of supremacy (power to dominate or defeat) has been woven into the fabric of this colonialist nation from the very beginning of what has come to be known as the United States of America. Continue reading “On the Events of Charlottesville, VA by Xochitl Alvizo”
I have been struck in this new year by the reactions to the recently released movie Selma. There has been a palpable recognition by those of who have seen it, that “the more things change, the more they stay the same.” Many have wondered if they are watching about events some 50 years ago, or events some five months ago in Ferguson. The question is why do we remain trapped in this same cycle of sin, where we are alienated from the god who is freedom and thus alienated from our own humanity.
While the answer to this question is complex, one of the reasons we remain trapped in this cycle of sin is because of the way we deny the past and dismiss the future. I have no doubt that until we hold ourselves morally accountable to our past and dare to take prophetic responsibility for our future, then our present realities will continue to be defined by the worst of who we are and not the best of who god calls us to be. Continue reading “Moral Accountability, Prophetic Responsibility, and Selma by Kelly Brown Douglas”
In my church tradition, we have just entered the 3rd week of Advent. In today’s blog I share just a brief excerpt from the sermon which I preached on Sunday. I hope it at least inspires reflection on where we go from here as a nation, as a people and our responsibility in moving forward. I preached:
On this 3rd Sunday of Advent the stories and testimonies of four women have in many ways pricked the collective consciousness if not the conscious of our nation. These women, mothers all—are names that we sadly have become all too familiar with. They are Sybrina Fulton, the mother of Trayvon , Leslie McFadden, the mother of Michael, Gwen Carr, the mother of Eric and added to the list most recently Samira Rice, the mother of 12 year old Tamir. To call the names of these women and their sons, is to be confronted with the unsettling if not frightening times in which we now live and thus to be reminded of the ways in which our world is broken, the ways indeed in which the sacredness of our very humanity has been betrayed by our separation one from one another. Yet, it is into this unsettled time of brokenness that this season of Advent comes. Continue reading “To Be an Advent People by Kelly Brown Douglas”
Just as crises can reveal the strengths of our infrastructure, so too can they reveal the weaknesses. At the same time, a crisis can disclose the enormity as well as the limitations of our humanity. Even as the current Ebola crisis may have shown forth the strong points of the U.S. healthcare infrastructure, it clearly exposed some of its vulnerabilities.
The same can be said in relation to our humanity. From the time that Mr. Thomas Eric Duncan was diagnosed with the Ebola virus, cries to close “the borders” to those traveling from West Africa began. As two of Mr. Duncan’s caretakers contracted the virus, the cries to close “the borders” between the “United States” and West Africa became shrill.
The futility and impracticality of such a measure seems to make little difference to those who call for closed borders. At stake, they say, is the health and wellbeing of our U.S. citizenry. Even when marked by sincere concern, I find the call to close U.S. borders a troubling indication of the limitations of our humanity. A story in the life of Jesus makes this plain.
In the social-religious context of Jesus’ day, there was a long history of conflict between Jews and Samaritans. Jews had constructed images of Samaritans as an indecent and ritually impure people. Samaritan women were considered the most impure of them all. Multiple narratives of power intersected on the bodies of Samaritan women—ethnic, gender, and cultural. Put simply, they represented at once an inferior “race,” gender and religion. Thus, the social spaces of Jewish men and Samaritan women were to remain separate. Jewish men in particular had to protect themselves from the contamination of Samaritan women. Generally speaking, Samaritans were a feared and thus demonized people.
By most accounts, Jesus did not have to pass through Samaria on his journey from Judea to Galilee. This was considered a circuitous route. It was also considered a dangerous route given the antagonism between Jews and Samaritans. Again, Samaritans were considered dangerous enemies to the Jews, and most certainly ritually impure. However, Jesus crossed the borders into Samaritan space anyway. By going into Samaria, Jesus placed himself in the midst of those most feared, if not demonized, in the Jewish world. He ignored all the prevailing animus directed toward the Samaritans and dismissed notions of them as an unclean and dangerous people. He flagrantly rejected the social-religious hysteria about Samaritans by going out of his way to enter their space. He refused to let the “madness” of his times to blind him to the divine humanity of the Samaritans, or to overwhelm his own divine humanity. He, therefore, crossed the constructed human borders to bring healing and salvation to the Samaritan woman. This story is of course only representative of a ministry that consistently crossed borders of fear and stereotypes to affirm the humanity of those who were lepers in Jesus’ day. Simply put, Jesus’ compassion was no respecter of borders. Continue reading “Thinking Out Loud About Protecting Our Borders and the Ebola Crisis by Kelly Brown Douglas”
In these last several weeks, the horror that one out of four women will encounter domestic violence- sometimes referred to as “intimate partner” violence- in their life time has come to the national forefront. Indeed, women are more likely than men to be killed by their “intimate partner:” one in three women who is a victim of homicide is killed by an intimate partner. While sixty percent of domestic violence incidents occur in the home, this is not where domestic violence begins. It is the perhaps inevitable result of a culture of violence against women. It is the violence that violence creates.
This is a culture of violence in which women’s work continues to be grossly undervalued. One third of all women are living in or near poverty, what has been described as “the brink of poverty.” Two-thirds of minimum wage workers are women. The average white woman is paid 77 cents for every dollar her male counterpart man makes; for African American women it is 64 cents and Hispanic women 55 cents for every dollar made by white men. Women devote more than double the hours as men to “unpaid interactive children care.” Women over 65 “are twice as likely as men of the same age” to live in poverty—primarily because they are full or part-time caregivers. A 2013 “State of the World’s Mothers Report” ranked the United States 30th of the 30 best countries in the world to be a mother, based on indicators such as economic status, political opportunities and universal health care. And what this report makes most clear is that the status of children reflects the status of their mothers. This means that at least 28 million children are living in poverty in the United States.
As for physical violence, one in four college aged women experiences an attemptted or actual date rape. Forty-two percent of women who have been date raped consider suicide. In the Shriver Report, Sister Joan Chittister suggests that in the United States, “rapes in military and rapes on college campuses go unpunished because ‘boys will be boys,’ and winning wars and football games are more important than protecting the integrity of the women who are victims of rape.” These statistics represent nothing less than systemic and cultural violence against women and their children.[i] And, such violence is a sin. Continue reading “Domestic Violence: The Sin that Sin Created by Kelly Brown Douglas”
I was asked recently what frustrates me most about theology. I am a theologian, and love doing theology. Nevertheless, I do have my moments of frustration with the theological enterprise. I am most frustrated when theology loses its dynamic edge and focus. Too much of theological reflection has become “navel gazing” falling prey to the infamous accusation of Medieval theology, that is, wondering “how many angels can dance at the end of a pin.” It seems to me, that we must not lose sight of the fact that the foundation of theological reflection is the revelation of god, which is nothing less than god’s movement that is god’s dance, in human history. All that we know about the transcendent reality is made known to us by that reality making itself known by entering into our world. The best of theological reflection, then, is a response to that revelation, wrestling with the meanings and challenges of god’s revelation to us. Again, far too often our theology is consumed by intellectual strivings as opposed to struggling with god. We, as theologians and religious thinkers, find ourselves debating the essence of god—who god is in god-self, what we call the godhead—as opposed to who god is in relationship to us and our world. Too often we focus our attention on the appropriate pronouns and nouns that we should use to define god as opposed to the verbs that describe the very movement of god in our world. And so, despite the fact that we do not know god in “god-self” or in the god head, theological reflection is spent debating it, and has a long history of debating it. In the meantime, the world stays just as it is—which is anything but a reflection of the gods/goddesses we claim to follow. Even as we can assume that who god reveals god-self to be is a reflection of the very essence of god, theological reflection is best served not by this upward, inward turn to god, but by following god outward into our world. As god moves toward us and into our world, so too are we to move toward one another and into the world, for this is where we will find god. Theological reflection must not be about who god is in god-self, but rather about who god is for us and who we are to be for god. Theology, as it is essentially grounded in the notion that god acts first, is at best an attempt to discern how god is acting so that we can act back in a responsive and responsible way. So what does this mean? Continue reading “Theological Reflection: Outward, Not Inward by Kelly Brown Douglas”
Within the Christian tradition, this week – l known as Holy Week – is perhaps the most significant week on the Christian calendar. During this week Christians are called to contemplate and to remember the core events of Christian identity—the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus. Given the focus of this week for many Christians I am sharing my theological reflections on the crucifixion-resurrection event.
As I begin this reflection, it is important to recall that which I and others have pointed out in other places. In Jesus’ first century Roman world crucifixion was reserved for slaves, enemy soldiers and those held in the highest contempt and with lowest regard in society. To be crucified was, for the most part, an indication of how worthless and devalued by established power an individual was. It also indicated how much of a threat that person was believed to be to the order of things. There was a decided crucified class of people. These were essentially the castigated and demonized as well as the ones who defied the status quo of power. It is in this respect that I believe Jesus’ crucifixion affirms his identification with the marginalized and outcasts. Indeed, on the cross Jesus fully divests himself of all pretensions to power and anything that would compromise his bond with those most othered in the world. The reality of the cross further affirms the profundity of god’s bond with put-upon bodies..
As a “Christian womanist theologian” I was very engaged by the recent dialogue concerning “Gendered Imagery of God” (March 13). In response to that very thoughtful post, it was asserted that Christian womanist have not addressed this issue, especially as it concerns the maleness of Jesus. In fact, christological concerns have been a central focus within womanist theology, particularly given the centrality of Jesus and the cross for the black faith tradition. With this being the case, the maleness of Jesus has not been ignored. It has been addressed by womanist religious scholars from the early beginnings of womanist theological reflection. This issue, however, has emerged not from a discussion of God or Christ apart from issues of “survival and wholeness” for the black community, male and female. Continue reading “The Black Christ by Kelly Brown Douglas”
Theology is faith seeking understanding. Faith is that ineffable, intangible spiritual apparatus that keeps us in relationship to a transcendent, infinite god. It is, for Christians, the core of their relationship with the god of Jesus Christ. Yet, as Karen Armstrong and others so often remind, faith is not about loyalty to a certain doctrine, or dogma, or set of beliefs, rather it is about a commitment and engagement in a certain way of “living, and moving and having one’s being” in the world. As the word faith derives from the Greek word “pistis” it fundamentally signals not a way of thinking about who god is and god’s relationship to us, but a way behaving in light of our belief in and relationship to god.
Christian faith is grounded in the theological claim that god became incarnate in Jesus. Faith, in this regard, is not about an intractable and intolerant assertion of that theological claim; rather, it is about a sincere and consistent commitment to live into the implications of that claim. Put simply, “To keep the faith,” is not about holding onto a certain way of thinking, rather it is about maintaining a certain way of acting. The point of the matter is that for Jesus faith did not signal a preoccupation with belief per se.
When Jesus was calling people to faith, or telling them to have faith, he was not calling them to believe in him or in his divinity, rather he was asking them to be engaged in a particular way of living, to be committed to his mission in the world. Their loyalty, their trust was to be in the way of life which he embodied, a way of life that reflected the presence of god in the world. And so it is in appreciating the meaning of this word faith as Jesus used it, that I come to theological task on this day. Continue reading “To Do Justice for Jordan Davis by Kelly Brown Douglas”
A few weeks ago, after delivering a sermon, a young woman approached me and said she had a question about my sermon. I of course braced myself for the question as I ran my sermon back over in my head trying to remember what I could have said that might have troubled her in some way. As it turned out, hers was a rather thoughtful question, reflective of an insightful theological observation. She said she noticed as I preached that I never used a pronoun for God. She asked if this was intentional. She went on to say that by not using a pronoun for god I forced her to try to image “the way god is, not the way god looks.” I complemented the young woman for her keen observation and astute theological insight. I responded that my avoidance of pronouns when speaking about god was in fact intentional. I explained to her that given the limitations of our finite language in trying to speak of a god who is infinite, that not only are we better served, but perhaps god is also better served when we avoid pronouns, or even nouns when speaking about god. Why, because we should try to speak about god the way in which god speaks to us. And so this begs the question: How it is that god speaks?
The god in which I have faith does not speak to us as a static being. Rather, god speaks to us as a dynamic, restless force in our world. This, for me, is what god’s revelation in Jesus is all about. The gospel of John tells us that in the beginning was the word and the word was with god, the word was god and the word became flesh. Inasmuch as Jesus is the incarnate word of god speaking to us, then for us to speak about god the way in which god speaks is for us to enflesh that very word that became flesh for us. What then does this mean? How are we to speak about god? Continue reading “How is it That God Speaks? by Kelly Brown Douglas”
It matters that he consistently affirmed, empowered, and befriended those who were the outcast, marginalized, oppressed, and rejected of his day—such as Samaritans and women.
A firestorm has been set off recently concerning the self-assured observations by Fox News anchor Megyn Kelly that Santa Claus is white and so too is Jesus. These comments, which were in defiant response to a Slate article “Santa Claus Should Not Be A White Man Any More,” by Alisha Harris, have been spoofed by late night talk shows and satirized across social media. Scholars and others have also weighed in on the matter. All have pointed out that Santa is not real and that Jesus was not white. The fact of the matter is that Jesus was a Jew born in ancient Israel and St. Nikolaos upon which the make-believe Santa character was based was from ancient Myra. The fact of the matter is that neither Jesus or St. Nikoloas were white; indeed both were likely to have had swarthy complexions. While it is easy to laugh at Kelly’s comments or to simply dismiss them as curiously misguided and ill-informed, they point to something even more significant that is worthy of discussion —the meaning of whiteness and its theological implications. And so, I offer some random thoughts for further reflection. Continue reading “What Does Jesus Have to Do with Whiteness? by Kelly Brown Douglas”
The time for false solidarity is over…Let’s us stop talking about it, let us just dig deep inside of ourselves and find a way to do it.
Fifty years ago in response to President Kennedy’s assassination Martin Luther King Jr. wrote: “Our nation should do a great deal of soul-searching …” It is these words of Martin King’s that echo in my mind fifty years later as news headlines continue to be filled with stories of innocent young black bodies falling victim to a social climate that nurtures racialized fears and breeds racialized violence. If the deaths of Renisha McBride, Jonathan Ferrell, Jordan Davis, and Trayvon Martin tell us nothing else, they proclaim loud and clear that we are a people in need of a “great deal of soul-searching.” For me, this time for soul-searching is nothing less than a kairos time. Continue reading “Moral Courage by Kelly Brown Douglas”
As I contemplate the state of our world from the rhetoric of shut-downs to stand your ground, from the self-righteousness of political discourse to the dogma of ecclesiastic pronouncements, and from the justifications for political inequality to the explanations for ecological disregard, I wonder what has happen to all of our little words?
What has happen to our little words of gratitude? These are words like “thank you,” or “I appreciate that,” or “that is kind of you.” Have you ever noticed how in our world today people rush through it without stopping to say thank you? We have become a taken-for-granted people in a taken-for-granted world. We act as if we are entitled to certain things because of who we are or simply because we are. But here is the thing, that which we take for granted we tend to squander, to abuse, and to easily discard—like our natural and human resources. We take for granted our relationships to the earth as well as to one another. We take for granted our life on this planet and our life in community. It is time that we recover our little words. We must learn once again to speak little words of gratitude, for such little words go a long way in changing our world and to transforming a people from being wasteful, excessive and warring to being conserving, non-indulging, and peaceable. Continue reading “The Little Words by Kelly Brown Douglas”
When I was little my mother use to always tell me to “stand up straight.” It is probably because of my mother’s plea that one particular bible story became one of my favorites. It is a story that comes from the Gospel of Luke, Chapter 13. In this story Jesus heals a woman who had been crippled and bent over for 18 years. As he does so he tells her “to stand up straight.” For me, these are some of the most powerful words that Jesus could have spoken to this woman. For not only did they signal that he had freed her from whatever the burden was that kept her hunched over, but they also restored her to a sense of dignity. These are simple, yet powerful words, for the many women in our midst who have for so long have not been able to stand up straight.
I think of the Sarah Baartmans of our world, like a Rachel Jeantel, who are made into a circus act because of their appearance. What happened to Sarah Baartman in 1810 as she was paraded across Europe so that people could examine her buttocks and genitalia—deeming her exotic and erotic, happened to Rachel in 2013 as she gave testimony in an American courtroom while people decried her appearance and mocked her speech—deeming her ignorant and illiterate. Continue reading ““Stand Up Straight” by Kelly Brown Douglas”
According to a recent online CNN report (15 September 2013) an 8 year old girl in Yemani died from internal injuries after her wedding night. Apparently this was not the first time a young Yemeni girl died under these circumstances. Despite the fact that there have been various attempts to outlaw child marriage in Yemani, it remains legal. For some families steeped in poverty, the “innocent” bodies of young girls becomes a way to make money as these girls are sold for marriage to older men. One Yemeni woman lamented, “this is what poverty can do to people” (CNN online 15 September).
All around the world there are stories of young girls and women whose bodies are being “legitimately” violated. Even in those places where the violence against women’s bodies is considered a crime, the redress for these crimes fall short of justice. The story of the Yemeni girls and others like it have raised many theological questions in my mind concerning notions of innocence, the meaning of violence, and the implications of just war. In this blog, I will share my rather fragmented thoughts on these issues as an invitation to conversation. Continue reading “Unjust Wars and ‘Innocent’ Bodies by Kelly Brown Douglas”
July 2008 the United States House of Representatives passes a resolution apologizing for the more than two hundred years of slavery and the decades of Jim Crow that followed.
June 2009 the United States Senate passes a resolution apologizing for slavery and Jim Crow.
October 2007 Tallahatchie County Mississippi Board of Supervisors and Sheriff William Brewer, Jr. sign a resolution apologizing to the surviving family of Emmett Till for his murder and for the acquittal of the two men who murdered him.
March 2013 Montgomery Alabama police chief Kevin Murphy apologizes to Congressman John Lewis for the failure of police to protect Lewis and other Freedom Riders from mob attacks when they rode through Montgomery in 1961.
For every American concerned with Civil Rights this indeed is a sad day. It means states and municipalities—particularly those in the former Confederacy—will in the days following the decision be introducing new legislation which will have the effect of disenfranchising black voters. Those of us who consider the right to vote fundamental in a democracy must rise up, with time, with money, and if necessary with our bodies in peaceful protest.
This is not only a sad day for black Americans. It is a sad day for white Americans as well. June Unteenth is the day 4 white Americans joined by 1 black American (who was hand-picked by white Americans) announced their decision to deny voting rights to large numbers of black Americans. This decision may not affect the right to vote of large numbers of white Americans.
Tomorrow is a special day for me. It is Juneteenth. On June 19, 1865, news finally reached Galveston, Texas that slavery had been abolished. This was of course two and a half years after Lincoln issued the Emancipation Proclamation. While the actual impact of the emancipation for the enslaved remains a source of historical discussion if not debate, the fact of the matter is that the proclamation of emancipation and the reality of freedom for black women and men did not necessarily coincide. To be sure, for a variety of reasons, the Emancipation Proclamation did not have an immediate impact on the daily lives of enslaved women, men and children. While the “official” historical records marks January 1, 1863 as a day of emancipation, the historical record for the descendants of enslaved men and women marks June 19, 1865 as the day of freedom. For, it was on this day that the last slaves were free.
While the celebrations of Juneteenth have waxed and waned over the years, it remains a day in which African Americans reflect upon the “mighty long way” we have come as well as the “mighty long way” we have left to go on the pathway toward freedom. As I celebrate Juneteenth, in the words of a black gospel song, “My soul looks back and wonders how they got over.” And so it is that my theological imagination is stirred, for it is clear that it was by faith that they (the enslaved) got over. And so I ask, what kind of faith was it that allowed them to get over, that is, to survive a life of bondage? This question is even more pressing to me each time that I am reminded that there were those who were born into slavery and died in slavery, and thus, as Toni Morrison once exclaimed, “never drew a free breath.” So, what kind of faith was it that carried these people through life? Continue reading “The Story of Juneteenth by Kelly Brown Douglas”
Her name was Tricia Meili. Their names were Yusef Salaam, Raymond Santana, Antron McCray, Korey Wise and Kevin Richardson. On April 19, 1989 all of their lives were irrevocably changed. They would never meet, but their lives would become forever linked. When they entered into Central Park on that night, did they know that they were stepping into a haunting history of dismembered bodies? Tragically, their bodies would become another story to be told in that history.
On that April day in history some 34 years ago one white female body went into Central Park for her routine jog. Five black and brown male teenage bodies went into Central Park to hang out, but soon became a part of a crowd engaged in mischievous if not dangerous and out-of-control harassment of other park visitors. As the night wore on, police were called and arrests were made. It would later be discovered that Tricia was brutally and sadistically raped, but not by Yusef, Raymond, Antron, Korey or Kevin. Yet, the five young teenagers were badgered into confessions, charged with the rape and sentenced to prison. Continue reading “Betraying Bodies by Kelly Brown Douglas”
Son: My friends and I were stopped for going 61 mph in a 55 mph zone, frisked and had our car searched. We thought the police were going after the car of white boys in front of us going at least 70, but they stopped us instead.
Mother: It’s not the first time.
Intergenerational dialogues are key to Alice Walker’s womanist definition. This definition includes a dialogue between a mother and a daughter in which the daughter announces that she is going to Canada and taking others with her. The mother replies that she would not be the first one to make such a journey. During this Women’s History Month, I as a womanist am reminded of the dialogues that haven take place between black women and their children. These inter-generational dialogues have been fundamental to helping black children to “survive and be whole” in a world that looks down on their blackness and attempts to limit their ambitions. Continue reading “Dialogues With Our Children by Kelly Brown Douglas”
It has long since been understood that knowledge is power. Women and other subjugated voices have recognized that those who control the world are those who define the world— and define not simply what counts as knowledge—that is the content of knowledge, but they also define the production of knowledge—that is what sources and means are considered resources for knowing. Just as Michael Foucault has made this clear in his deconstruction of discursive power, so have womanists and black feminists like Patricia Hill Collins who have called for an “epistemology of knowledge, where the meaning of knowledge itself, in terms of content and production, is re-examined and re-defined. For it is undeniable that the what and ways of knowing peculiar to marginalized groups and classes of people are rarely considered knowledge—perhaps “wisdom,” “folkways,” “customs,” “superstitions,” or “women’s intuition,” but not knowledge, not something worth knowing and thus not something worth teaching. Why am I talking about all of this today? Continue reading “Knowledge is Power by Kelly Brown Douglas”
The more I reflect upon the complex and multiple ways in which various bodies are put upon and disregarded, the more I am persuaded that we have a body problem.
Our bodies communicate to us in many ways. They are a valuable source of knowledge in terms of our present realities and they are also valuable storehouses for memories. Long after the memories of the mind fade away, memories of the body linger. The mind may not remember, for instance, the details of a particular event, but the body remembers how it felt. The memories of sadness, anxiety, hurt and pain as well as happiness, peace, healing and love are grafted upon our bodies. Feelings, sensations and instinctive reactions—things that are hard to explain—are oftentimes our bodies’ ways of communicating memories. These are embodied memories reminding us of what it means to feel torn apart or to feel whole. It is the body giving feedback at any given moment in time. Embodied memories certainly involve what Audre Lorde identifies as “erotic power.” This, Lorde says, is an “internal sense” and a “depth of feeling” “that is a source of power and information” (Lorde, Sister Outside). Embodied memories are one of the ways in which our bodies speak to us and help us to know the good, right and just thing to do, from within ourselves and through depth of feeling. Continue reading “Body Talk by Kelly Brown Douglas”
The notion of the bad body allows for bad things to be done to any body and anything human or non-human that has become body identified.
Where did it all begin? How has it happened that we have nurtured such an ethos of disrespect for the earth and all that is therein? How has it happened that we have fostered an ethic of indifference for that which is different? How has it happened that we have cultivated an environment hostile to the well-being of our very selves? Where did this cycle of violence against the sacredness of all that is begin?
These are the questions that have troubled my mind and soul over these last few days as we have once again been reminded of the unimaginable and painful price we pay for not asking the hard questions of ourselves and trying to discover the seeds of our inhumanity. As I have tried to answer these questions one word has continually come to the forefront of my mind: “wholeness.” As a womanist, informed by Alice Walker’s definition of a womanist as one who strives for wholeness, I have increasingly recognized that perhaps it all begins with a betrayal of the wholeness of creation itself. Most of us are influenced by a Western view of the world that sees things in either/or paradigms. The way in which we engage the world and ourselves is shaped by a dualistic consciousness. Thus, distinctiveness becomes “other,” paradoxes become opposition. Such a dualistic worldview undermines the unity of all being. It defies the complex harmony of the universe. And, it most especially disrupts our appreciation for our own bodies and the bodies of others. Disdain and cavalier regard for the body and the earth becomes virtually inevitable. Continue reading “Random Questions? by Kelly Brown Douglas”
When we were growing up, my dad would often exclaim to my sisters, brother and me, “You got the world in a jug with the stopper in your hand.” He most often said this when he noticed us indulging in some pleasurable event: be it watching our favorite television show or savoring every bite of our favorite food. We would laugh every time my dad said this. We did not know he was quoting a blues lyric, we thought this line was another example of our dad’s creative wit—there was no one that could make us laugh more than dad. But, as creative and witty as dad was, this jug line was not original to him. This was a line from the song, “Downhearted Blues” a song originally recorded by blues woman Alberta Hunter and later covered by Queen of Blues Bessie Smith in 1923. Indeed, as suggested by my father’s use of the line, this line would come to have signfiyn’ meaning within black culture and for black people. It would be this jug line that indeed made Downhearted Blues a mega hit within the black community.