#also it is not 'punching down marginalized groups' to share the FACT that religious thinking causes the hippocampus to atrophy.

[swagging-back-to]

tras are fucking moronic. nothing i said was about jews. literally not a single reference to jews.

oh and btw here's a source bc we ALL know how tras like to turn off comments, delete anything that they don't agree with, and add people to their block lists.

[themageiboline]

Rant Time and PSA - Equating symbols of minority faiths with a racist vocal minority that share them is NOT okay.

It’s come to my attention that a vocal segment of the online left has taken, just as I feared, to equivocating the many ancient symbols of Norse faiths with racism without exception after the storming of the capitol and the very high profile appearance of the so-called Q-Shaman. And if you speak out as a leftist or progressive such as myself on the harmful nature of this attitude, then clearly you must care more about symbols than POC. This attitude is harmful, divisive, and dare I say in a certain sense racist in its own right. The following rant is a bit long but I implore you to read it in its entirety before you make any judgements should you think you’ve found any part of it to be objectionable at first blush.

This particular rant largely stems from a thread in a private group about someone’s local Canadian news station, though I wish I could say this was the only such instance I’ve seen of this rhetoric. The news station was labeling Norse symbols such as the valknut and the Mjolnir - the latter of which being the primary symbol of the Asatru faith - as symbols of white supremacy, as if they were made by and for white supremacists, and laughing off and ignoring the OP when they called to correct them. Now unfortunately the OP didn’t link to this coverage but the thread carried on with the assumption it was as OP claimed. Under this assumption, there was a worrying amount insistent that there is no other way to raise awareness on the use of these symbols by racists, and that us pagans should just “shut up sit down and stay in our lane” and let the racists appropriate these symbols as their own. 

As if there is no other way, as if BIPOC are too stupid and primitive to know a racist when they see them without being instructed to discriminate based on religious affiliation, and is if white and white-passing pagans are just selfish for not taking kindly to being labeled like this. One went so far as to say it was impossible for white pagans to be marginalized in any way to begin with. I suppose my own eyes and ears must have been lying to me every time I witnessed the hate and discrimination my wiccan friend faced then.

Well I for one refuse to sit down and shut up. I refuse to let anyone try to tell me how I am or am not marginalized as a closeted bisexual neopagan living in the deep south. I refuse to hand over our symbols on a silver platter to racists, and to the religious right who will undoubtedly happily jump on the chance to have ungodly scapegoats to blame the crimes of their ilk on. 

I am reminded of a quote from the iconic Black Panther Fred Hampton: 

“We've got to face the fact that some people say you fight fire best with fire, but we say you put fire out best with water. We say you don't fight racism with racism. We're gonna fight racism with solidarity.” 

I think we have to face the fact that our social movements are as of now plagued with those who would look at the words of the late Fred Hampton, organizer of the Rainbow Coalition and victim of assassination in 1969 by the FBI and Chicago PD, and scoff at them. They would simply say “racism is prejudice plus power, no you can’t be racist against white people,” and use these semantics - however technically true or false they might be - as a poor excuse to ignore prejudice against others. 

There truly does exist a faction within leftist and progressive movements in general that I can only describe as racial reductionists. They pervert the very good and crucially important concept of intersectionality as an excuse to play Oppression Olympics with different marginalized groups, and refuse to acknowledge and address some discriminatory acts as if one cannot address one without ignoring another. 

Let me be abundantly clear on a few things, which I think I can say with a decent amount of certainty as a closeted bisexual cis-male white skinned neopagan living in the deep American south. Yes, we absolutely can and are discriminated against and marginalized by society. There also exists those on the religious right who would be overjoyed to include us among their scapegoats for what transpired at the capital, and love to have reckless media agencies aid them in doing so. I can also say that I’m absolutely sure this pales in comparison to what BIPOC face, or most other marginalized groups such as ciswomen and trans persons in general. 

We still nevertheless are victim to prejudice, and you don’t fight prejudice with more prejudice. The fact that one group is more oppressed does not excuse ignoring the prejudices faced by another. In doing so you only aid white supremacy by allowing them to continue to appropriate the symbols of minority faiths as entirely their own, while also painting a target on any white or white-passing members of the said minority faith, whom will naturally not take kindly to that. By extension and tactically speaking most importantly, this also means you help push moderates further to the right as they’ve seemingly had the accusations that the American left is anti-white confirmed to them. You even alienate would-be allies in the process, people like me who are generally all about anti-authoritarian progressive and leftist movements, all about the idea of punching Nazi’s in principle, now given a great amount of pause. Am I to be labeled a Nazi for the crime of wearing the Mjolnir pendant my father gave me? Am I now at risk of being assaulted by misguided so-called anti-fascists, whom I might have otherwise fully supported, were I to wear it again? How is it okay that I now might one day soon have to fear violence were I to ever publicly wear a pagan symbol so dear to me again, just because I am of Caucasian ethnicity? 

While the intent may well be simply to “protect” BIPOC I posit that the actions of the online leftists claiming this can only be done by labelling all Norse pagans as racist white supremacists is itself highly offensive and racist of them. BIPOC are not so stupid as to need to be infantilized as if they’re a mass of primitive minds totally incapable of understanding nuance, and can only defend themselves by tribalistically latching onto religious imagery as an enemy. The victims or descendants of victims of cross-burning Klansmen are more than capable of grasping the concept that not everyone among a religion are like that of their vocal minorities, while still being weary of those that might be, I assure you.

I reiterate this again: you do not beat prejudice with more prejudice, you only divide and make enemies out of allies. If you’re truly against the ruling classes, if you truly stand opposed to all systems of oppression then do not aid them in dividing and conquering. Recognize the varying degrees of harm and prejudice all lower class marginalized individuals face and oppose it all. That doesn’t mean in any way we have to treat much lesser acts of discrimination as equal to hate crimes against BIPOC, it only means we must acknowledge it and not allow any of it to continue on our watch if we’re truly about helping and protecting the marginalized.

This is sheer insanity. It is divisive, hurtful, and downright dangerous rhetoric to allow a minority faith to be smeared in the media or anywhere else like this just because a large number of them might happen to be of white or white-passing skin complexion and I refuse to stand for it.

[catholicartistsnyc]

Meet: Laura Pittenger

LAURA PITTENGER is a NYC-based writer and director, and a Catholic Artist Connection board member. (www.laurapittenger.com)

CATHOLIC ARTIST CONNECTION (CAC): What brought you to NYC, and where did you come from?

LAURA PITTENGER (LP): I graduated from Ball State University (go Cards) in 2012 with a degree in theatre production and moved here almost immediately from Fort Wayne, Indiana. I have known I wanted to live in New York City since a high school drama club trip. Living here has shattered my illusions about what it would be like, but I think in some ways the reality is better than the fantasy. I never knew New York was so diverse and fascinating outside Manhattan, but I've really fallen in love with the entire East Coast at this point.

CAC: How do understand your vocation as a Catholic artist? Do you call yourself a Catholic artist? 

LP: In mixed company, I call myself a theater artist, or a Catholic, but not often both. When I get to introduce myself as such, it is a real joy, because that’s a much more complete picture of who I am. I think it's a label that is often maligned and misunderstood, but I don't make it a personal mission to correct every single person's presumptions about what it means. I try to let my work speak for itself. I couldn't have the ideas I do about life and being human if I weren't a Catholic, and it shines through everything I create, whether I like it or not. (I think that's the Holy Spirit. Right?)

CAC: Where have you found support in the Church for your vocation as an artist?

LP: Being on the board of Catholic Artist Connection, while it has been a lot of work, has also been so faith-building and rewarding and communal. Because I have not often found the support I need as a Catholic artist in the church proper - aside from individual priests and friends, who have been lifesavers - I want to make it my mission to be that open door for other Catholic artists. This is something I believe the laity can do and can do well. 

CAC: Where have you found support among your fellow artists for your Catholic faith?

LP: It really depends. Some people can see that the theater is a place where diverse creatures gather to present and grapple with interesting questions, and that gives them the curiosity to explore what it means to be a Catholic during this strange period of history. Some people aren't yet in that frame of mind, and that's okay. If I can be Christ to them, that's what I care about, and that's in my power to do. I'm actually embarking on a process with Project Y Theatre right now where I'm going to be doing a short adaptation of a piece by Hrotsvitha of Gandershaim, a Catholic religious sister who wrote plays in the 10th century, of all things. 

CAC: How can the Church be more welcoming to artists?

LP: By supporting groups like the Catholic Artist Connection! 

CAC: How can the artistic world be more welcoming to artists of faith?

LP: Ask more questions about faith instead of relying on pat and easy answers. Let religion appear onstage as more than a punchline or punching bag. Let's have stories about religious persons struggling, yes, but let's also have stories about them thriving in religious communities. We could all benefit from that kind of open-mindedness.

CAC: Where in NYC do you regularly find spiritual fulfillment? Do you recommend any particular parishes?

LP: I attend a parish in Queens - reach out to me directly if you want more specifics. Otherwise, in Manhattan, I'll recommend a few parishes that stand out:

St. Francis of Assisi is fantastic, very welcoming, diverse community, and caters to so many marginalized people.

If you want spectacle and the Seat of Everything in NYC, St. Patrick's Cathedral.

I have a special place in my heart for the Dominicans over at St. Vincent Ferrer, it was one of the first churches I attended regularly in the city. You might see a few familiar faces at the noon mass, and sometimes the Sisters of Life go there.

If you want to go to an 11pm mass in Times Square, check out the The Actor's Chapel/St. Malachy's. It's quite something. They have actors and singers galore so the liturgy is pretty beautiful.

St. Ignatius Loyola is a BEAUTIFUL Jesuit parish on Park Avenue, and the music is out of this world good.

CAC: Where in NYC do you regularly find artistic fulfillment?

LP: I have done a lot of work with Turn to Flesh Productions with my good friend Emily C. A. Snyder. I've worked with a lot of companies, some of which have moved away or developed into other companies - such is the nature of the theater!

To get inspired, I visit new places in the city. There are always new places to go. There are still neighborhoods I've never even set foot in and I've been here since 2012.

I read about 50 books a year on average. You have to keep your mind moving so it doesn't get stagnant. And there are a lot of independent used bookstores in the city that you should DEFINITELY support. The Strand is an institution. And Heaven help us, when we get the Drama Bookshop back, you should support them, too.

I also took a class recently with the Brooklyn Institute for Social Research when they had one on "Bible as Literature." Take any class that you can afford. Sign up for Barnes and Noble alerts, they always have famous people come to read from their books in Union Square. 

CAC: What is your daily spiritual practice?

LP: I pray throughout the day. My prayer life is extremely simple, basic, and conversational. I spent a long time dealing with anxiety and depression, and I have found it best to just live in the silence with God. I expect a lot of myself by nature, and so my biggest challenge has been learning when to ease off and just know that I am loved by God. I find a lot of comfort in spiritual reading. Read Letters to a Young Poet by Rainer Maria Rilke.

I'm self-conscious of the fact that it seems like I often do the bare minimum of what is expected of me as a Catholic, but my heart is at peace - most of the time. It helps to find a spiritual director or regular confessor who knows you well and can guide you when you're feeling lost, and it was important to me when I moved here that I find one quickly. He's busy, but he'll make time.

CAC: What is your daily artistic practice?

LP: When I was writing my novel I wrote several times a week, and it was a real pleasure. It's good sometimes to work on creative projects that are simply for fun, because it's easy to lose sight of your art as anything but hard work. But, in general, I try to be really protective of my time and energy. I wouldn't say I have a daily practice, but I am trying to get better at doing at least one creative thing a day, even if it's just composing funny dumb tweets. 

CAC: Describe a recent day in which you were most completely living out your vocation as an artist. What happened, and what brought you the most joy?

LP: A collective of playwrights including myself have been meeting regularly with the New Sanctuary Coalition at St. Francis Xavier Church in order to write plays based off the interviews the NSC does with immigrants living in the city. It’s been a salve to the soul to find a way to share those stories with the world, they are urgent stories for our times.

CAC: You actually live in NYC? How!?

LP: If you want to move here and are not sure what you want, or if you don't have a big budget or any credit, or some other reason why you don't want to or can't rent your own apartment right away, I recommend starting in a short-term sublet. I arranged a sublet on Facebook in the month before I first moved here, with a girl I hadn't met. I found a sublet group on Facebook, and I know Craigslist (although sketchy) does have sublet opportunities as well. Technically speaking not all subletting is "legal," but NYC subletting laws are pretty draconian. There are legal sublets out there but I can't speak for all of them. It's a little ridiculous, but only the strictest of landlords really seem to care. Just something to keep in mind.

I will be very candid with you - if one of your parents has a very high paying job, you'll be in much better shape to rent your own place. Oftentimes landlords want renters with a guarantor who makes anywhere from 40x to 90x the monthly rent.

If you can find a roommate, do it. Keep open lines of communication about what your priorities are in a living situation. Those things typically come down to:

1. Distance from the train/Manhattan/jobs 2. Space in the apartment 3. Personalities 4. Interest in the neighborhood

If your roommate has a parent who can be the guarantor, or one of yours can be, you will be in great shape to find your own place, even without jobs right away. If not, subletting is your best bet. Do NOT be afraid to speak openly and candidly with each other about finances. You have to be realistic. You have to be wise.

I live in a neighborhood in Queens called Astoria. I share a 3bed convert (meaning it's 2 bed with no living room now because we made it into a bedroom) with a big kitchen, a decent bathroom, and a great landlord. I pay around $900 every month for this, and I'm paying for proximity to the train, proximity to Manhattan (I can be in Times Square in 25 minutes if the trains are running on time), and space. The price jumps up at least $500 a share once you try to find a similar place like that in Manhattan. Yes, the prices are insane. The cheapest studios I see are somewhere around $1500 and you usually don't get much space for that money. The more roommates you have, the cheaper your rent can be, but you will have to sacrifice things like privacy and quiet.

When I first moved here, I paid $750 a month for one half of a 2 bedroom apartment in the same neighborhood, but the landlord was not great, and we had mice and heat problems. You really get what you pay for, and sometimes neighborhoods (like mine) get trendier every year.

I found both apartments with a local broker who knows the neighborhood, and I found her on Craigslist. This is not a blanket endorsement of Craigslist. If something seems too good to be true, it definitely is.

Stay away from Williamsburg, or anything off the L train for now. Look up where the train lines are going to be shut down for long periods of time, and don't move there. Good neighborhoods to look at for lower budgets:

Manhattan: Inwood, Washington Heights, Harlem, Queens: Sunnyside, East Elmhurst, Astoria, Long Island City Brooklyn: Bushwick, Crown Heights.

I don't know Brooklyn super well, honestly, but there are parts of Brooklyn that are still affordable. The ones I listed are all really vibrant and diverse communities, and if you want to be a part of them, they'll be glad to have you. If you have your heart set on Manhattan, you will be paying a lot more for a lot less convenience (longer walk to the store, higher prices, fewer laundromats), but you will have proximity to a lot of cool stuff. 

CAC: But seriously, how do you make a living in NYC?

LP: When I first moved here, I got a job at a hotel as a food runner and then a server by attending an open call I found on Craigslist. I also got a job as a host at a Times Square chain restaurant because I had friends who were working there at the time and got me an interview. Another friend recommended a temp agency to me. I got a decent amount of work through there. Basically, it's easier to get a job if you have an "in," but you may have to start at the bottom of the barrel and work your way up.

Some weeks I worked five days at the restaurant, one day at the temp job, and mornings at the house of an actor preparing for a one-man show he was doing. I had to keep really careful track of my paychecks and budget to make sure I would have enough for rent. I made sure I had a cushion of money in my checking account just in case I had an emergency.  

The hours will be long and frustrating and you might cry a lot, but if you can stick with it through the tough times, I promise you that you will be able to work anywhere in the world and do anything you want to do, because you did it in New York. Go to open calls. Make phone calls. Walk in and be ready to fill out an application in person, and ask to see the manager right away. Be proactive. Let the rush of energy and fear from being in a new place help you take action.

The one thing I will say is don't let the job become your whole life. There are so many things to see and do here, and you want to have the time to enjoy them. It's not just about survival, it's about living well, and about having time to work on your art. Now I have one job in due diligence, with benefits and healthcare, that allows me to work on my theater stuff, my real passion, in my spare time. I've been with that firm for a little over four years. 

CAC: How much would you suggest artists moving to NYC budget for their first year?

LP: I moved here with about $5k, and it took me about $3k to get settled over a period of three months. I lived out of suitcases but clawed my way into an apartment, and took it from there. I also talked to my parents to figure out what my "bailout" fund looked like, and they gave me a ballpark figure - if things ever got really bad, I knew I could call them, but there was a limit, so that encouraged me to stay frugal. I didn't consider that money part of my budget, just a little peace of mind - and I still haven't used it. (But keep in mind, this was in 2012, so adjust for inflation!)

CAC: What other practical resources would you recommend to a Catholic artist living in NYC?

LP: Apply for an IDNYC. It's a municipal (city) ID card that comes with yearlong museum memberships that you can sign up for via the website and it's also a valid ID card if you're somewhat irregular in your living situation - anyone who can prove residency, even homeless persons, can get one! Also, make www.broadwayforbrokepeople.com your bookmark for discounted play tickets. Most theaters have discount programs based on age. You can also try for lotto tickets using the TodayTix app. 

CAC: What are your top 3 pieces of advice for Catholic artists moving to NYC?

LP: 1. Go to Mass, every Sunday. Try out different parishes until you find one where you feel comfortable and welcome. We have so, so many and they are waiting for you to fill them up with your time and talents. If they are in your neighborhood, so much the better.

2. Invest in your neighborhood. Shop local. Get to know the community. Attend local events. You're going to meet people you'd never have met back home, and most of them won't be artists, or Catholic - although some might be both! It will inform you creatively more than you know.

3. Surround yourself with people who treat you with the respect and dignity you deserve. This might seem like general life advice, and it is, but as a Catholic you'll find yourself facing challenges in the city, and as an artist in this city, you'll certainly be challenged. But at the end of the day, when you lay your head down, wherever you find a spot, you have to know you are safe and loved. Nothing is worth your respect and dignity, and do everything you can to maintain it. Don't be afraid to ask for help if you feel trapped and afraid. You aren't the only artist (or Catholic) to feel this way in this city.

[8-intergalacticbutterfly-8-blog]

Relationships: Part II – I’ve Heard You Shouldn’t Make Homes Out of People

Thinking more about the problems and questions I posed in the first part, I felt it necessary to make some distinctions. Although I condemn the use of pain to hurt others in person-to-person interactions, I do not believe the same can apply at other “levels” or “layers” of social and historical existence. When we speak of structural violence, we often refer to social institutions that perpetuate discrimination, exclusion and marginalization through various processes. These “processes” are composed of social practices and beliefs that, through their simultaneous operations, create the kinds of worlds in-and-through which we, as social subjects, come to see ourselves and others. The term “structural” can be interpreted as “networks” that coordinate themselves according to shifting condensations of economic, social, cultural and human capital – a “push” here, for example, might necessitate a “pull” there. In this way, no singular person could be said to serve as a point of absolute origin for the forms of violence that people experience in their day-to-day lives. Instead, power comes to embody the shape of conglomerations, of clusters, of interconnected nodes in network societies. Based on this particular understanding of power, authority and violence, the finger of blame cannot be pointed at a singular subject. Or, in other words, the problem does not necessarily lie with, for instance, “white people” themselves but with whiteness as a network of social institutions, ideologies and practices that maintains people who identify as (or even look) white in a structural position of relative privilege (whiteness also affords power to people who align themselves with these same institutions, ideologies and practices – of which my writing as an academic trained in elite institutions is complicit with).

 So, what do we do with statistics such as these:

 “In Australia, indigenous youth are 28 times more likely than non-indigenous youth to be detained (ABC News, 2011), while in the US black and Hispanic youth face harsher treatment at each stage in the criminal justice system (The Leadership Conference on Civil and Human Rights, 2000). While black youth represent 5 per cent and Hispanic youth 19 per cent of the juvenile population in the US, respectively they account for 45 per cent and 25 per cent of the incarcerated youth population (Saavedra, 2010).” (Andy Furlong, Youth Studies: An introduction, 2013, p. 191)

 Clearly, there are groups of people that are structurally pre-dispositioned to be kept in certain social segments (e.g., physically in jail cells [issues of space/place]; migrants kept waiting for the right to have rights [issues of time/temporality]). There are specific histories of economic dispossession, social displacement and cultural genocide that help explain why brown and black communities (this isn’t exclusive to issues of skin color, though colorism can and does affect how people experience their lives) are over-represented in prison populations. To move from an individual level (the person-to-person engagements I addressed in “Part I”), to a structural level, means having to reckon with suffering and exploitation in ways that consider the larger contexts that inform how people think and act. At this level of social experience, attempts to count and leverage “coins” of pain in a group’s “historical jar” cannot be simply reduced to selfish acts of vengeance or egotistical demands for attention and care. At a structural level, socially afflicted communities are often cornered into political positions where there is little wiggle room to act “ethically” according to existing frameworks of morality and legality (morals and laws that often contribute structurally to more violence and marginalization, than to support or assistance).  

 I’ve heard that you shouldn’t make homes out of people.

 My discussion of relationships in Part I begins to carve out the reasons why this statement might be true. “Hurt people, hurt people,” as the saying goes. The violence people embody often gets displaced onto others because they lack the capacity to hold the unbearable weight of histories (simultaneously distant and personal) that both connect and separate them. I think this is why we often “snap” at those whom we consider to be the closest and most intimate—we expect them to serve as our personal punching bags (after all, they love us, right?). This is also why people, amidst their busy schedules and right to live their lives, can sometimes only offer a share on Instagram or a status update on Facebook when confronted with global atrocities—including those sponsored by their “own” governments and countries (which also means, economically-speaking, their taxable incomes). The line that separates virtuous resistance from complicity to oppression is becoming increasingly thinner and thinner in social worlds where the clothes we wear and the foods we eat come to us from disparate locations, near and far, and often by exploitative means.

 Is anyone innocent?

 If one shouldn’t make a home out of people, perhaps it is in part because our insides mirror the wars taking place outside. There are terrible, invisible battles inside people’s hearts and minds that twinkle like guns fired all over the world—past and present. I believe change at a structural, systemic level requires social retribution for historical debts that persistently and perniciously feed current forms of inequity across differences of class, race, ethnicity, gender, sexuality, ability and nationality. At an interpersonal level, however, I fear these same demands fuel further alienation, splinter coalitions and build a general distrust of people who are different from “us.” Is there a way to mediate the two positions without falling into extreme forms of nationalism and territoriality, or empty “inclusions” that simply reproduce and reinforce social hierarchies? I return to an often-cited quote by Subcomandante Marcos: “El mundo que queremos es uno donde quepan muchos mundos;” “The world we desire is one where many worlds can fit.” I highlight this demand not to romanticize indigenous Zapatista politics, nor to offer a solution to planetary disarray, but to suggest that a haunting question/reality remains with many communities today: Are people capable of letting “difference” live with integrity and on its own terms? Or are certain organizations of political and communal life automatically hostile to one another, preventing any “sincere” or “authentic” compromise from emerging? It is important to note that difference has many forms: ecological environments; non-human animals and plant life; cultural and political systems; spiritual and religious beliefs and practices; gendered and sexual diversities; and the list goes on.

 My point, I suppose, is that even if we consider the brief, yet deeply complex scale that is a human life, an individual person’s biography, we will eventually reach a point where violence feels inevitable, even natural: to live in societies so entrenched with bloody histories, as is the case with the United States, can anyone truly say they exist free of charge? If we do, in fact, live in social networks, does this kind of (globalizing) cultural existence not implicate practically everyone? And if it does, are people touched by violence in the same way? I think the answer would be “no,” especially if modern histories of genocide, enslavement and dispossession are to be taken seriously at all. To equalize oppression, as when one claims that “All Lives Matter,” is to commit an error of magnitude and proportion, for people of color, women, and queer and trans* folks have served historically as collateral for the “civilized,” modern lifestyles that citizens, noncitizens and second-class citizens get to live in the here and now—whether they enjoy it or not, find it meaningful or not, is beside the point. It seems to me that across the tenuous spectrums of oppressor/oppressed, there runs a loud silence, a dazzling absence that grounds the very existences of people as social individuals: systematic death as a contemporary common origin – but not one from which everyone benefits equally.

 Which brings me to another question: can trauma purify?

 What does an inheritance of collective pain at an individual level do? Consider the following scenario: a third-generation indigenous girl accompanied by her Mexican-American father is called “Pocahontas” by an elderly white woman at a Whole Foods in Southern California. The woman looks down at the girl and repeats her observation with a warm smile – “You look like her [Pocahontas]” –, only to be met with an uncertainty that gleams from the girl’s eyes as to the significance of the claim, of the way in which she is being interpellated by the woman as looking “native” (I won’t go into the problematics of basing native and indigenous identity on Disney representations). So, what happened here? Are these innocent, everyday exchanges? Or has certain damage been done (again)? And, if so, who’s at fault? How ought one to respond? One way to reply to these questions—arguably the most obvious—would be to assume a binary approach: the woman is the oppressor and the girl is the oppressed; each is a symbolic condensation of histories of colonial violence. But we can also just as easily say that the woman is not a willful oppressor (her comment, from her perspective, was not meant to be offending). Likewise, the girl does not willfully assume the position of the victim or the oppressed (in fact, the woman’s comment might not even make an impression amidst other priorities and preoccupations). Rather, both are given to larger and deeper structures that, before they even happen to bump into each other at an aisle in a grocery store, already situate and render meaningful interactions in ways that seem to necessitate an implicit, and thus explicit, hierarchy.

 This is the distinction that I highlight between the pain people wage on one another through interpersonal contact, and the suffering that people as communities depend on, and must therefore politically mobilize, in order to make claims for social justice. The two levels co-exist and constantly inform each other—this makes the problem of historical trauma particularly tricky to frame. Through this distinction, violence demonstrates the paradoxical and contradictory ways in which an emphasis on trauma might prove necessary on one level of social experience (the systematic nature of social institutions), while possibly detrimental on another (everyday encounters with people).

 At the end, however, we are still left with questions of justice and ethics. How might the woman be made accountable for her supposed “innocent” remarks based on, and supported by, the structural privileges afforded to whiteness in the U.S.? Relatedly, how might the incident be made conscious to the girl in a way that does not propagate a victim mentality or an inferiority complex, but instead affirms the dignity of her identities and her right to exist as a person? I do not have answers to these questions. They might be questions for policy and lawmakers; for researchers and scholars; for grassroots activists and organizations. The issues I raise do not have singular, once-and-for-all remedies (or at least not any that I can personally identify) – they are symptoms of the immensity and the difficulty of existing in a world haunted by the debris of chance encounters gone terribly wrong, whether they happened in 1492 or last week.

[junker-town]

The Cubs deserve every bit of criticism they’ve gotten for the Daniel Murphy trade

Murphy has shown no remorse for his homophobic comments, and the Cubs have shown no remorse for adding him to the team.

The Cubs traded for Daniel Murphy this week, hoping for a boost to their offense and a left-handed bat that could do damage to opposing pitchers over the last few weeks of the season. In the process, they acquired a player who has made homophobic comments in the past and has yet to apologize for them. If the trade was bad, their actions since then and the fallout with fans has been worse.

In 2015, Murphy made homophobic comments about MLB ambassador Billy Bean when Bean visited Mets Spring Training. He said of Bean, who is gay,

“I disagree with his lifestyle. I do disagree with the fact he is homosexual. That doesn’t mean I can’t still invest in him and get to know him. I don’t think the fact someone is homosexual should completely shut the door on investing in them in a relational aspect.

“Maybe as a Christian … we haven’t been articulate enough in describing what our actual stance is on homosexuality. We love the people. We disagree with the lifestyle.”

For the record, you can’t love someone in the LGBTQ community and still disagree with their lifestyle. That’s decidedly at odds with how love works and just because someone tries to explain bigotry away in this manner doesn’t mean it’s an acceptable or logical explanation. At the time Bean, trying to be magnanimous in the situation, responded,

“The silver lining in his comments are that he would be open to investing in a relationship with a teammate, even if he ‘disagrees’ with the lifestyle. It may not be perfect, but I do see him making an effort to reconcile his religious beliefs with his interpretation of the word lifestyle. It took me 32 years to fully accept my sexual orientation, so it would be hypocritical of me to not be patient with others. Inclusion means everyone, plain and simple. Daniel is part of that group.”

On a simple human level Bean is not incorrect, patience and understanding as you try to change someone’s opinion about a marginalized class can be important. But this is also about a massive corporation in MLB and teams who have legions of LGBTQ fans among their supporters. When it comes to representing a professional baseball team, there should be less room for patience, and an effort to make sure all fans feel included and welcome rooting for their team and its values.

In the time since, Bean and Murphy have reportedly become friends and developed an understanding relationship. That’s great for them, friends are nice. But Murphy has never apologized for his comments, and in fact has attempted to bury them for good by saying he just wants to stick to baseball and nothing else. How convenient for him, a white man earning millions who has never had to own up to his actions in any measurable way and is now getting the opportunity to play on a third major league team in his career.

In the days since the trade many Cubs fans — LGBTQ or not — have made their voices heard in opposition to the roster addition. Remember, this is also a team who employs alleged domestic abuser Addison Russell and still holds Women’s Empowerment Nights. The team who traded for domestic abuser Aroldis Chapman and explained it away as the price of getting a World Series ring — which they did. (I am not equating Murphy’s comments with either of those two situations, but it is a pattern.) So it’s fair for fans to have been skeptical from the get go of how the Cubs would handle this.

The answer to that is not good.

During a Thursday press conference, Murphy talked about his current relationship with Bean but at no point walked back his comments from three seasons ago. Even worse, he then proceeded to answer the question “what would you say to gay Cubs fans” with “Oh dear. I would hope you would root for the Cubs.”

“OH DEAR. I WOULD HOPE YOU ROOT FOR THE CUBS.”

That’s the thing though. If the Cubs had handled this with any sort of tact, or maybe thought to double check if Murphy has ever gone through any media training in his life, they might be in a position to be forgiven. Then people might feel comfortable still rooting for them without questioning their enjoyment of the game.

But the Cubs betrayed a portion of their fans by trading for Murphy in the first place, especially without an assurance he could speak on those comments in a more respectful way than previously, and they’ve only doubled down on mistakes that would (and should) alienate fans since.

The Cubs asked Billy Bean his opinion on the trade before they made it and got a response centered around the fact that Bean specifically left baseball because he didn’t feel accepted by his teammates. Yet, knowing that, Cubs GM Jed Hoyer’s takeaway was that Bean “thought the organization could really benefit from his presence” and went forward with the trade anyway.

They couldn’t find anyone else hitting .305/.344/.440 with six home runs on the season who would actually benefit the clubhouse while serving as a positive role model for the team and fans? Maybe not. But they could have put a lot more emphasis on the second half of that sentence than the first.

Cubs board member Laura Ricketts told the Chicago Tribune Thursday, “It was not made in a vacuum. It was made thoughtfully.” Without more context than that (which the Ricketts have not provided) it’s hard to believe that is actually the case. Even if she did speak further, she would be doing so as someone with a direct financial interest in the team talking about a move that was already made. Taking any of it at face value is thus implicitly nonviable.

Because I am neither a Cubs fan or a member of the LGBTQ community, I talked to Kelly Wallace, Founder & Editor-in-Chief of Expanded Roster, who said she felt like she was “punched in the gut” and “genuinely felt nauseous” when she saw the news that her team had acquired one of her “most-loathed players of all time.” She says,

I do not want Daniel Murphy on the team I root for. I do not want to cheer for him. And I think the front office handled it terribly.

Those are all legitimate responses to a move like this, and as we’ve seen a few days later they were warranted. What the Cubs don’t seem to realize is that those reactions are not that of one woman in their fanbase, they are the reactions of many people who take to heart what their favorite teams do — and make rooting decisions based on them over time. If the Cubs made the choice to acquire Murphy based on a business upsides of winning, then it’s fair to call them out on completely brushing aside the business implications of dismissing the concerns and feelings of a subset of fans.

As Wallace noted to me as well, the reasoning that Murphy being friends with Bean in 2018 absolves him of 2015 comments he hasn’t walked back nonetheless apologized for is extremely flawed. It’s the “I’m not racist, I have a black friend” of defenses and it has never and will never be enough for someone to be forgiven for something they show no remorse about.

Wallace’s experiences with the Murphy trade go deeper than just feeling shocked and betrayed by the move. She shared exchanges from an email conversation with Murphy’s agent Seth Levinson with SB Nation, which began when she reached out to see if Murphy would be providing a statement or answering media questions at any point after his arrival in Chicago.

Over the course of what could have easily been a mutually respectful conversation, Levinson’s responses devolved to the point where he claimed “Mob Justice,” accused those judging Murphy for his comments of being “hate mongers,” and at one point said “I am deeply uncertain whether speaking to anyone in the media will ever FAIRLY serve a good man’s best interests” and “deeply disturbed by those in the media who have taken his words of 3 years ago out of context and twisted them to create a problem where none exist.”

Levinson’s comments, to a member of the media who (as confirmed by copies of the emails) was professionally asking for comment from a player who may want to further make his case to Cubs fans after a disastrous Thursday press conference, is a sign of the type of people Murphy surrounds himself with and allows to speak on his behalf. If, after the bare minimum efforts Murphy and the Cubs have put forth to defend the trade and his comments, this is still how Murphy’s team reacts when asked to comment about something he’s been dealing with for three years now it’s a lot more difficult to believe there’s a drop of contrition to be found from anyone.

The Cubs can still fix this. But it will take a lot more sweat equity to regain the trust and passion of fans than it would have to find another trade target in the first place. Reminding them, and MLB, of that as often as possible isn’t an attack. It’s a step towards a future where the next time a team contemplates making this type of trade, they actually think twice about it instead of using that time to come up with PR-speak excuses to launch as soon as worthy questions start being lobbed their way.