Hallway to Nowhere

Tag: South

  • Finding No Comfort At A Christian Candlelight Vigil

    Finding No Comfort At A Christian Candlelight Vigil

    This week has left me saddened and dispairing over my encounters with the Christian community in my small town. Here is what I’ve encountered here in the Bible Belt:

    First earlier in the week after the Charlottesville protest, I was speaking to a friend on transit. This person is somewhat elderly and has a devopmental disability. She was frightened and concerned that the violence she had witnessed might come to our small town. I was reassuring her that she was safe and that I believed she need not fear. She patted my hand and thanked me, saying “God bless you.” The transit driver then interjected into the conversation to inform her that I did not believe in god and that I was laughing at her words. All I had said in response to her was a simple “Thank you.” I would never hurt her by ridiculing her beliefs, nor would I try to distress her. She was alarmed already and his words just added to her fear. I attempted to assuage her concern and not inflame the situation. All I said to the driver was to remind him that the First Amendment also applies to atheists, after she had departed from the bus. He then said that it only applies to people who believed in god and that I should be deported (because I’m atheist).  This was said in all seriousness.

    The more I thought about this encounter, the more disturbing I found it. First, that he should use another person’s distress to target me seemed extremely callous. This passenger should not have been subject to more reason for confusion. She was already anxious and upset. She did not need to be brought into his dislike of my atheism. That is extremely uncalled for and beyond the pale. Second, he showed me that I have misread his character. He is a self-proclaimed “good Christian” and conservative Trump supporter. We have engaged in what I thought was good-natured banter in the past. But, while I am known to be a progressive activist, I have never crossed the line into attacking someone personally for his/her/xir beliefs. I firmly believe that the rights of everyone to have their own political and religious beliefs should be respected and that diversity is something to be valued.I don’t expect everyone to agree with me on politics, religion, sexuality, or any other subject. Indeed, I TRY to seek out and engage others with opposing views, not to  change their minds by debate but to find out how others think and feel. I don’t want to live in my own little bubble. At the same time, though, I do let them know who I am and what I espouse. But I also accompany this by kind actions and compassion.

    So, feeling shaken already by yet another disconcerting brush with Christianity here in the South, I attended a candlelight vigil last night. It had been advertised on FB and was held at a local church. I had not realised that this was to be religious (Christian) service, as the church where it was held had been the site for other nonreligious activites I had previously attended and it was not mentioned in the advert. But I resolved to stay, enjoy the beautiful hymns, and find some peace and comfort with others.  I also wanted to hear that  local Christians were other than my recent experiences would allow and not represented by those who would attack and exclude others.

    This is what I heard. I say this with the hope that despite my attempt to be there as a fellow human being and seeker of peace that I misconstrued the message. There were four pastors officiating, each representing a different church and leading a different segment of the service. The first gave a rather standard talk on peace, using the familiar word of Francis of Assisi. The second, an African preacher, was much more inspiring, using  fire and eloquence. I felt hopeful. THEN came the third pastor on the topic of love. He spoke of how Christians are supposed to love EACH OTHER and not criticize other Christians. I waited  to hear his expansion of this into how Christians were to treat ALL people. But that message never arrived. Instead, he reiterated several more times that Christians were one body and were to love their CHRISTIAN neighbors and treat them well. He was conspicuous (to me, at least, as the non-Christian there) by his deafening silence on how Christians are to treat those of other faiths or of no faith at all. Then came the fourth pastor who talked about justice. After a rather vague account of Judas’ betrayal of Jesus, which seemed to have little connection with his theme of justice (perhaps I’m just obtuse), he went on to say that Jesus-and his father also by extension-loves CHRISTIANS and made it abundantly clear that he loves them above we lesser beings who don’t believe. As per the previous pastor, he said this three times, using different passages from the Christian New Testament. And again, no mention at all that presumably god also loves those who are other then Christian.

    I left the service feeling  alone , beleaguered, and saddened. I had hoped to hear a message of comfort and hope for all humans. Instead I came away with the understanding that the attacks I had experienced at the hand of “good” Christians were part and parcel of the culture of this region. I really don’t like to believe this but am slowly coming to think that those whom I DO know to embody the best teachings of Christianity in their words and deeds, who are compassionate, kind, and loving towards ALL, are anomalous. To freely aid a stranger, comfort the lonely, and help anyone in need…well, here at least, these words only seem to apply to other Christians.

    I don’t think I’ll be converting.

     

     

  • Where Are You From?-A Southern Question

    Where Are You From?-A Southern Question

    Since the removal of the Confederate statues in NOLA continues to be in the news, the South is on everyone’s radar. Something happened at work that really caught my attention, juxtaposed as it were with the business with issues of  the statues,  history, race, and Southern identity in general.  I had overheard a conversation between a colleague of mine ( a person born in the South and very much a Southerner) and a person who had moved here from the Northeast. She was aking him why people in the South always ask the question, “Where are you from?” She said that she never got that question in other parts of the country. I’ve lived in other places (the midwest, greater NYC) and she is indeed correct. When I lived and worked in those places, no-one ever inquired as to my origins unless my accent slipped out. (I don’t have much of a Mississippi accent. My mother went to extreme lengths to ensure that I spoke with a neutral accent, not the mush-mouth that my more upstate cousins had.)

    I ‘ve been thinking about that question. WHY do we here in the South ask that question? And it is usually the second thing that follows hello, the first being an inquiry as to whether you want a glass of sweet tea.  I discussed it with a friend of mine who was not from the South originally but who lived in Louisiana for a long time.  I proposed that we do it as a tribal thing, to find out who your people are, because we might be related. (A deceased friend once half-jokingly claimed that everyone in the South was related to everyone else.) My friend retorted that it might be a tribal thing but to see if you are one of us or not, to establish bona fides, i.e. are you a Southerner?

    That lead to the reflection that the South is the only region of the US that has an unique geographical identity.  I’m hardly the first nor the last person to make this claim.  It has a hold on me as an individual, like it or not. I am a Southerner, though I like to describe myself as reconstructed Southerner. I’ve hated this fact, tried to escape it geographically by moving to NYC, and finally made my peace with it. I grew up in Mississppi, lived and worked in the heart of the Deep South (the Mississippi Delta), and have known and loved Southerners. I’ve hated some of them, too. But in my maturity I recognize that I can’t erase the fact that I was born and bred in the deepest South, though I don’t have to the subscribe to the “Never Forget” attitude many take in regard to the Civil War and to the not-so-subtle racism that still lingers in those who wish to bring back Jim Crow laws and worse. I actively attempt to overcome my white privilege by educating myself. I read as much as I can, watch podcasts, docs, movies, and series that will help me get over myself. I will never know what it means to be an African American or any other minority (except Jewish, of course) in the South but perhaps I can intellectually understand and notintentionally be such a jerk.

    I’m listening to the The Dead South, btw.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • Statues, Memory, And Soil

    Statues, Memory, And Soil

    I’ve been reading lately about the heated atmosphere surrounding the removal of statues of Confederate figures in New Orleans. I know those statues and have often used them to give directions to people attempting to get to various places in the French Quarter.  I’ve followed the story of their plight with some interest, as I am from the South and this IS a particularly and peculiarly Southern problem.  The South is dotted with statues, obelisks, plaques, and other monuments to the glorious heroes and fighters of the Lost Cause. Now, mind you, when you grow up in the South, as a young child it can be a LONG TIME before anyone ever tells you THAT THESE ARE PEOPLE WHO LOST THE WAR! I had extraordinary parents who did do and at an early age. I reasonably asked,”Then why are there statues of them everywhere?” My father sighed and replied, “This is the South; that is a difficult question; you’re much too young for hard liquor.”

    Personal history aside, I’ve heard the arguments that we should leave these things up for the sake of history and as some sort of teaching instuments. I find those argument totally and completely spurious. For the sake of history? Like the entire South is going to have a complete bout of amnesia, should the monuments get taken down? The battles of the Civil War and the struggles upon which it was based-that of slavery and man’s oh-so-human urge to trample wholesale on the rights of others based on skincolor-are soaked into the very soil of the Southern states. Southerners, whether there by birth or geographical accident and whatever their race-are confronted with the legacy of the slavery every day, like it or not. I hardly think that the absence of some statues will make us forget. Not when we’ve got neighbors who persist in flying the Confederate flag from their pick-up truck or porch. Not when we’ve got the legacy of Jim Crow lingering in our voting districts, our laws and our attitudes. Not when when we’ve got a resurgence of white supremacists looking back fondly to a society that exists only in fiction and calling it the South. I’m not sorry to see the statues et al. coming down.  As for the “Never forget!” contingent, some of us are busy trying to build a new society, not hark back to the Old Dixie that lives mainly in your beer cans and fevered imagination.