Back to blogging? Back to blogging!

Hello, readers!  Yes, it's been a long time since I've actually written-written. 

I had a really interesting conversation recently about writing, and not-writing, with another member of QUIP (Quakers Uniting in Publications).  She's on the planning committee for our conference / program / annual meeting in early October, and we were talking about me maybe being on a panel there about blogging as a Friend. I am going to be on the panel! Yay!

First, about the QUIP gathering: 

• Theme:  Quaker Writing in these times of Crisis and Change
• Dates:  Thursday, October 2 thru Sunday October 5
• Location:  Residential at Pendle Hill Retreat Center, Wallingford PA USA and Online via Zoom
• More here: https://www.quakerquip.com/

Second: a couple of things that emerged from that conversation:

--

Reading -- and writing -- for fun a lot less

As some of you know, I started in a grad school / post-grad certificate programme in counselling and psychotherapy in 2015. I decided I wanted to continue on through the diploma level to become what in the UK is called a qualified counsellor and psychotherapist.  The only person in my life it seems like this was a surprise to was me, but, yes, I was surprised.  Go ahead and laugh. 

Anyway, after two training programmes that were kind of a brutal slog, three amazing placements, and several hundred additional hours volunteering at those same charities, I gt there.  In 2023, I started my private practice, and also came on as a contractor with one of the charities I'd been involved with as a trainee on placement and then as a volunteer. 

It turns out I really do love being a therapist.  Huge thank-yous to everyone, and I do mean everyone, who helped me along the way. 

I also trained in group work in 2024.  That part really was zero surprise to anyone, including me.  That was a wonderful experience, and it really helped heal some of the ick left from my core training.

Grad school, however, ate my life and my brain. 

My capacity to read non-fiction absolutely dwindled during my training, and it's still very much reduced several years after graduating from my second programme!  This is sad, because there are SO MANY cool non-fiction books I have in my To Be Read pile that I'm genuinely excited about, but have trouble sticking with.  And I keep adding more.  

Some of them are related to psychotherapy; one of them, by my friend, chemistry mentor, and fellow tea-lover Michelle Francl, is about the chemistry of tea; one of them is by fellow Baltimorean Ta-Nehisi Coates, whom I saw at the Book Festival recently and who greatly expanded my thinking about all sorts of things related to white supremacy and fascism and activism and more; etc, etc.  I seem to manage articles a little better.  

Wait, I did finish KC Davis's How to Keep House While Drowning.  Which, thankfully, she did a really good job of designing to be accessible to ADHDers, depressed and anxious people, other neurodivergent folks, and anybody with executive function challenges.  

(p.s. I clicked over to her website, and oooh, look at her more recent book!  I really want this for both personal and professional reasons.  I'm laughing: another one for the TBR pile!)  (Yes, while writing this, I have in fact ordered it from Bookshop.org.)

But until my conversation with Finola, I hadn't realised how much my capacity to write had taken a hit from grad school.  When I mentioned this to my partner, she seemed to think that was obvious.  I took a break between my two professional diploma programmes, which ended up coinciding with the beginning of the pandemic, but aside from that, well, it turns out that having to write thousands of words over and over, very regularly, for... eight?... years excluding that small break... makes it hard to have the brain space to write, even for myself, much less for sharing with other people.  

--

So, the conversation with Finola, and the prospect of attending QUIP again, prompted me to think again about writing.  A couple of things about this: 

So... why do I blog, anyway?

One was when Finola was sharing what different QUIP bloggers had said to her about why they started their blogs.  For some, blogging is all about drawing people to their books, for example.  For others, it's about some other aspect of their ministry or their business -- consulting, speaking, facilitating events, etc.  There are of course plenty of other reasons as well.  

I started my personal blog when my wife and I moved away from the town I'd lived for my entire adult life so that she could return to grad school and change careers.  Before other forms of social media, my personal blog and email were how I stayed in touch with folks from what was then home.  

A few years later, I started my public blog, in no small part because I was tired of other people, especially other Quakers, deciding they knew The Truth about me as a Quaker Witch, and using the things they'd often outright made up, but decided were captial-T Truth, to discriminate against me.  

I wanted my own voice to be out there with my own words, my own truth, my own experience.  

It is perhaps ironic in this context that one of the things people used as "evidence" that they knew all about me is, in fact, that I co-authored a specific book.  Which, to them, meant I was not a "real" Quaker, and it was somehow not discrimination... to discriminate... against me.

Sure, Jan.  

Anyway.

I also started my blog as part of my ministry amongst Quaker Friends -- in answer to the need amongst Pagan Friends to build community; as a response to my own and others' spiritual need to find and be in community with each other. 

At the time I started this blog, I'd had an active ministry amongst Pagan Friends for a little over a decade.  I'd coordinated local events for Pagan Friends for years and helped others do the same; I'd facilitated interest groups at FGC Gathering and FLGBTQC Mid-Winter Gathering. The same year I started blogging, I co-organised Great Waters Pagan Friends Gathering and also facilitated my first week-long workshop for Pagan Friends at FGC Gathering.  

(I just re-read the Great Waters epistle and found it, still, deeply powerful.)

So I started this blog as an extension of my ministry amongst Pagan Friends, and from my perspective as a Pagan Friend; but of course it also immediately reflected other aspects of my whole self, reflected other integral parts of my identity -- a Queer Friend, a disabled Friend, a Jewish Friend, and more.

So, this blog has always been primarily about my Integrity as a Friend.  

A lot of things have changed in my life over the last decade, and certainly since I started blogging 18 (18!) years ago.  

Perhaps of the biggest changes is a more recent one: I'm not trying to explain myself to other Friends any more.  I'm no longer trying to persuade other Friends to be accept me or other minority Friends, or not to discriminate against non-Christian Friends, or LGBTQIA+ Friends, or disabled Friends.  

These days, anti-Queer discrimination mostly comes out in discriminatory behaviours and attitudes towards trans Friends, since by and large most of the liberal unprogrammed Quaker communities I've been involved with in the US and the UK think they've overcome their homophobia, but there's a backlash allowing open transphobia.  

The political and societal currents that are encouraging that backlash are using all of the exact same arguments that were used against gay and lesbian people in the 20th century, including earlier in my lifetime.  (Bi people weren't believed to exist, much less ace or other queer people...)  This is preparing the ground for backlash against the entirety of the LGBTQIA+ community as well.  Though for now, some people really do seem to think these issues are somehow separate.  

So, what does it mean to me to write now, as a queer, neuroqueer, part-Jewish, Quaker Witch? 

I don't entirely know.

But I realised, in my conversation with Finola, that I'm excited to find out.  I've got some real energy around this.

It's an unexpected and fun surprise.  

--

What do I, as a Quaker blogger and writer, have to say about what's happening in the world right now?

This year's theme is Quaker writing in these times of crisis and change.  What do we, as Friends, have to say about what's happening in the world right now?  

What do I have to say? 

Much of the work I have been doing since October 7th, 2023, has been around Palestinian liberation and peace in Israel-Palestine.  

In 2002, I served on two different peace witness delegations to Israel-Palestine, one explicitly Pagan, one explicitly Quaker.  I spent time both in Israel and in several parts of the West Bank of the Occupied Palestinian Territories.  I would now say, Occupied Palestine.  

The current genocide in Gaza has prompted me to speak more, again, from that experience. 

Most people in the US and the UK have absolutely no idea about the reality on the ground.  That trip obligated me to share about what I experienced and what I witnessed, and I am able to speak from lived experience most people in the US and the UK don't have.  Combined with my white privilege, conditional as it is for white Jews, I can speak, and sometimes be heard, in ways a lot of Palestinian-Americans can't.

So I started out by talking a lot more, again, about the Occupation.  

But another thing the genocide has prompted me to do is to claim my Jewish identity in ways I have never felt able to before.  

I've joined Na'amod, "a movement of Jews in the UK seeking to end our community’s support for Israel's occupation and apartheid, and to mobilise it in the struggle for freedom, equality and justice for all Palestinians and Israelis".

This is hands-down one of the best things I have ever done for myself as a Jew.  It's one of the most important things I've done for my own integrity -- both in the sense of wholeness, and in the sense of truthfulness.  That's both very Quaker and very Jewish.

It's also really changed, and charged, my peace activism.  

And while it turns out many of our members struggle with not feeling "Jewish enough," and we regularly run sessions for members on this, I have also never felt as certain of my Jewish identity as I do amongst other Na'amodniks.  It's a home in a way that part of myself has never had before -- though I had a closely-related experience at Shabbat with other Jewish Friends at FGC Gathering.  

Initially in the conversation with Finola, I had been thinking that what I as a Friend have to say in this current time doesn't have nearly as much weight as what I as a Jew have to say in this time.

But the truth is they're not separable.  So we're coming back to that theme of Integrity.  

And we're coming back to my activism, but also to my writing here, in its wholeness. 

--

More blogging?

I've got at least one other piece, possibly two, brewing that might emerge before the conference.  We shall see.  

But I have to say, writing today has been not only deeply satisfying, but fun.

Meeting a spiritual need of my own, again.

I hadn't thought of that.  Maybe I hadn't recognised, before, my need to write as one of my spiritual needs. 

Now, as a therapist, I'm reminded of an extremely useful chapter, "The Counsellor's Use of Self", in Mearns and Thorne's foundational text Person-Centred Counselling in Action. I come back to this chapter every so often; I recommend it to other counsellors, including trainees.  

I'm used to the concept of journalling as part of this self-discipline and meeting one's inner needs.

Writing that other people might read -- free of the need for approval, but with the invitation to community if others are so led -- is not something that I'd thought of that way before today.

But I'm thinking of it that way now.  

I look forward to finding out what's next!

Speak Up: Responding to Everyday Bigotry

With thanks to Captain Awkward for re-posting this:

Speak Up: Responding to Everyday Bigotry
https://www.splcenter.org/20150126/speak-responding-everyday-bigotry

For Veterans' Day and Remembrance Sunday

It’s 3:45 am when my pager wakes me. I speak to a man who is quite upset: his sister has just died – at the end of a long illness, but unexpectedly soon – and his sister’s son is on active duty in the military, stationed overseas...

Read more:
http://aquakerwitch.blogspot.co.uk/2009/05/peace-testimony-and-armed-forces.html

(c) 2009 Nankai; used with permission

 (White poppies are worn in the UK to remember all who have died in armed conflict, not limited to soldiers and military service members.  For more information, see http://www.ppu.org.uk/whitepoppy/index.html.)

Composting my tea bag as radical change

I was putting a tea bag into the compost bin on the kitchen counter this afternoon when I was suddenly struck by how much things have changed in 30 years.

In 1985 I was still living with my family of origin in a large East Coast city in the Mid-Atlantic US.  We didn't recycle.  We didn't compost.  The City picked up our trash once a week.  If we raked our leaves into the gutters in front of our house by the fall deadline, the City would pick up our leaves, too -- there was a large truck with huge, flexible tubes like vacuum cleaners.  I have no idea, now, what happened to those leaves -- were they landfilled?  I suspect so.  Perhaps they were shredded and used for mulch for City parks. 

I don't remember what happened to Christmas trees when we were done with them.  Unlike most of our neighbors, who were Orthodox Jews, we did have one every year.  Did we cut them up and put them with the trash?  Was there a special tree collection by the City?  (Would they even come down our block for that -- ?)  Some years, I know, my parents used Christmas tree limbs for mulch.

I remember being frustrated because I knew that recycling existed, but only elsewhere.  I don't think I'd ever heard of composting, except as something hard-core organic gardeners did (we had grown vegetables for many years, but never composted). I didn't know anything about composting as a way to keep things out of landfills or save the planet.

A few years later when I went away to college, I discovered a world where ordinary people recycled.  I was so excited!  It was mostly paper and cardboard.  There were plain old cardboard boxes in the dorms and the brand-spanking new computer center, signs blu-tacked above them on the walls, for white paper, colored paper, and cardboard.  The following year, we had fancier cardboard boxes, pre-printed even; taller, with slotted openings. No longer makeshift; Very Official. 

When I went back to my family's house during breaks, I saw with fresh eyes, disturbed and disappointed.  There was now a recycling center within an easy drive of my family's house, and my family was receptive, so we started collecting our easy recyclables -- at the time, probably only paper and cardboard, and plastic milk jugs -- and making a drive to the recycling center drop-off something like once a month.

I'd had my first paper route when I was 9, and our city still had a newspaper with home delivery well into my teens, which my family still got.  We kept our recycling in our garage, and went to the recycling center when it got too full of recycling for the cars.  I don't remember where the plastic was kept -- right front corner? -- but the newspapers got stacked up against the left-hand wall.  The garage itself was made of two-by-fours, plywood, and shingles; we'd rebuilt it ourselves some time in my late school-age years, and repaired again when I was in high school.  When I was 19 and living with my family again, our garage was firebombed in an anti-Semitic hate crime (along with others in the neighborhood), and it caught and burned very quickly with all that newspaper and dry timber.  We had two beat-up old cars at the time, and thankfully, neither was in the garage that weekday afternoon. 

Not long after that, we got curbside collection of paper and cardboard, but still had to haul plastics like milk jugs and yogurt containers.

I still remember how novel, exciting, and ground-breaking it was to have someplace we could take our recycling to, and then to have collection for just cardboard and paper.

In the early 90s I moved back to my college city, and what the recycling was like depended on which township or part of the City you were in.  But it was still better than where I'd lived before, and I was more passionate than ever about recycling.

It wasn't until the late 90s that I thought seriously about composting.  My best friend and co-Priestess, who lived in an apartment with a balcony, had been doing kitchen composting for a while, and had a worm bin on her balcony; she used her compost on her house plants and balcony garden, and gave it away to friends.  After my ex and I split up, I started gardening, and started a garden compost bin.  It wasn't very successful -- really, I didn't know what I was doing -- but it was a start.

When Beloved Wife and I moved in together, we rented a house with a garden.  With my encouragement, she, an experienced gardener *and* composter, built a wooden three-section compost bin in a sunny back corner.  It was a thing of beauty. 

Sometime in the early aughts, a non-profit partnered with the City to do a kitchen composting training and research project: they offered training at local libraries, supplied people with kitchen compost containers for free (with *strict* guidelines about what could and couldn't be put it the compost -- no meat or dairy products!), and in return asked us to track how many containers we put in our garden compost piles instead of the trash, for a year.  I went to the training, signed up for the program, and started to feel like I had a small clue.  Beloved Wife and I started composting our kitchen waste as well as our garden waste.

In the late aughts, we were living in a large city in the Pacific Northwest when they introduced kitchen compost waste collection.  You just put everything in the same bin as garden waste, which they already collected.  And because the City had a high-temperature cooker, you really could put *everything* in.  If your house or building's bin was big enough, my wife joked, you could put a whole side of beef in there.

It was amazing and liberating.

Now, every housewares store I go into carries kitchen compost caddies. The city where we live collects compostable waste.  Garden waste collection and kitchen waste collection are separate; you put your kitchen compost in a compostable plastic bag, and in our neighborhood, take your bag down to the bin at the end of the street.  The opening's too small to fit a whole side of beef, but still, we put pretty much everything in there.  For garden waste collection, you put your compostable waste directly into your brown bin, and it gets collected curbside.  We also have a compost bin of our own in the back garden. 

We have curbside collection of metal and glass; we take paper, cardboard, many plastics, and other packaging down to the bins at the end of the street, too.  And we recently got glass bins at the corner, as well.   We can take other plastics, batteries, paint, textiles, and a whole host of other things to a City recycling centre. 

At local institutions, from cafes to universities to hospitals to airports, there are separate bins in public spaces for dry recycling, compost, and landfill rubbish/trash. (But not at train stations. *sadface*)

So there I was, this afternoon, putting a tea bag into the compost bin on the kitchen counter, and suddenly thought of how that simple thing *wasn't an option* for me 30 years ago in the place where I lived.  30 years ago, it went into the trash.  I'm glad it doesn't any more. 

This planet is sacred.  This planet is Goddess.  The Earth's air, fire, water, and dirt are my breath, energy, tears, bones and food and drink; they are me; they are my sustenance.  Whether it saves the planet or not, I can't bring myself to landfill that teabag...

...and I'm glad it's so very easy now for me to compost it.

Fellowship of Friends of African Descent -- 2015 Fellowship Gathering Clerk’s Letter and Epistle

2015 Fellowship Gathering Clerk’s Letter and Epistle

Dear Friends,

The Fellowship of Friends of African Descent was born out of the Worldwide Gathering of Friends of African Descent organized by Philadelphia Yearly Meeting's Racial Concerns Committee in 1990. Since then, the Fellowship has held gatherings in various U.S. cities and in the year 2000, in the Caribbean nation of Jamaica, bringing Friends of African descent together to worship, nurture ourselves and our families, and to respond to issues of concern.

In this our 25th year of existence, we gathered in Philadelphia in August 2015 to re-establish the regularity of our gatherings and to address issues of concern, including the incidences of violence against African Americans in cities and towns throughout the United States.

In addition to me, our new leadership team includes Laura Boyce, Assistant Clerk; Claudia Wair, Recording Clerk; Robert Thomas, Treasurer; and Marille Thomas, Communications Committee Clerk.

We invite Friends of African descent who are just learning about the Fellowship to visit our Facebook page, read the attached Epistle and hopefully join us next August when we will meet again in Philadelphia.

In the spirit of peace,

Francine E. Cheeks, Clerk

2015 Epistle

Fellowship of Friends of African Descent

1515 Cherry Street

Philadelphia, PA  19102

October 12, 2015

Greetings to Friends everywhere:

The annual session of Fellowship Friends of African Descent convened August 21–23, 2015 at Arch Street Meetinghouse, Philadelphia, PA. Our theme, “Can I Get a Witness? Honoring our Past, Celebrating our Future.”This call for a witness is a prophetic imperative in Acts 1:8.

Affirming the presence of God in all people—Friends settled into an attitude of worshipful listening: listening to each other; listening to the still small voice; and listening to a host of spirit-filled speakers.

We were blessed to hear from Pulitzer Prize winner Harold Jackson, who is the Editorial Page Editor for the Philadelphia Inquirer.  He read from his article, “The Memories of a Black Child in Birmingham,” describing memories of his life as a 9-year-old in 1963 Birmingham. He recalled the violence: marchers beaten and “knocked from their feet by powerful water cannons operated by city firefighters, and then taken to jail.” One of the four little girls killed in the church bombing, Carol Denise McNair, was a friend of his. He recalled the foundation that his family and the Black community provided for him, and noted that such support is no longer present in many communities. “Fifty years later,” he concluded “the hatred has subsided, but it's not gone…. We all must remember the past, so as not to repeat it.” In silence, spoken word, and song we remembered, celebrated, and poured libations honoring we gave thanks for the presence of God, as shown in the lives of our recently departed Friends Noel Palmer, Daisy Palmer, Edward Broadfield, Nancy Peterson, and Jane Cuyler Borgerhoff.

We were heartened by the reports of Paula Rhodes, clerk of the Community, Equality and Justice Committee, Laura Boyce, Associate General Secretary for U.S. Programs, and Paul Ricketts, member of the Community, Equality and Justice Committee. AFSC staff members gave compelling accounts of the essential work the Committee is doing at home and abroad. The work of Peace by Piece engages young people in their communities; particularly important in this time of systemic violence across the nation towards people of African Descent.

Our clerk, Diane Rowley, asked “Where does the Fellowship go from here?” which led to our developing three priorities:

• Planning a long hoped-for trip to Ghana        
• Developing a comprehensive Communications and Outreach plan
• Revisiting the Fellowship’s mission statement

The ensuing discussion produced several concrete goals: Endeavoring to travel to Ghana in August 2017; updating our website and creating an online forum for continuous communication among members; and deliberately incorporating our mission statement into all future activities.

Vanessa Julye reported on the Pre-FGC People of Color Gathering. Feedback from the gathering indicated the importance of the event to those who attend, leading FGC to add the gathering as a budget item. The Friends of Color Center provides materials and support for attenders and is a significant resource. Regional gatherings for people of color give far-flung Friends important face-to-face time. We are extremely grateful for and will continue to support the work of Vanessa and the Ministry on Racism Program. To this end, we have attached a minute to the FGC Central Committee expressing our wholehearted support for the Program.

Ruth Flower of FCNL gave a powerful presentation on Mass Incarceration, detailing the unequal application of justice, the effective for-profit prison lobby, and the numerous alternatives to the current system. We were then treated to hearing Sari Sari Lupe Guinier read from her book "To Face It."

Philip Lord, Clerk of AFSC, delivered the keynote address. He referred to the weekend’s theme as “appropriate and profound” before sharing his experience of having “The Talk,” with his sons; that painful necessity in our society. By telling them that “there’s a prison cell with your name on it,” he related the reality of institutional racism. He spoke of the courage it takes to stand up and be a witness; there are significant risks involved, and all great witnesses make great sacrifices. But no matter the risk, no matter the sacrifice, we are called to be witnesses. Even if we need to step back and take a break, we are called to return, to take on the heavy weight, to change the world with the revolutionary act of being ourselves.

On behalf of the Fellowship of Friends of African Descent,

Francine Cheeks, Clerk

Original here: 

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1OOS8BgxBvJ_xAMJOa_D9J9b6aCh_0a3tAHydT0Urp-Y/pub

The Fellowship of Friends of African Descent on Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/Fellowship-of-Friends-of-African-Descent-177537062247/timeline/

Friends General Conference Ministry on Racism:

http://www.fgcquaker.org/associated-program/ministry-racism

 

Katrina, 10 Years Later -- part I

Hurricane Katrina satellite view, 28 August 2005*

The ten-year anniversaries of Hurricanes Katrina, Rita, and Wilma have been much on my mind lately.

In August, 2005, our family had just moved to the Midwest.  I'd grown up in hurricane country and had lived most of my life in majority-minority cities.  I spent the days before Katrina's landfalls tracking the storm on weather websites and anxiously listening to the news.

I spent the days after Katrina hit, like so many people, getting more and more angry, desperately wanting to Do Something.

Hurricane Rita, satellite view, 5 September 2005*

I spent Hurricane Rita in Montgomery, Alabama, stranded with hundreds of other disaster relief volunteers in a big box store converted to volunteer staff shelter.  We were incredibly frustrated at being stuck there instead of being out in the field, and given how impossible things already were for Katrina survivors, we were worried about how much worse they were getting.

When it was safe enough to travel -- still lots of wind and rain, but lower winds and fewer tornadoes -- I was assigned to go to a newly-opened service center in Jackson, Mississippi as a family services caseworker.  There, my volunteer colleagues and I worked with thousands of hurricane survivors every day -- for weeks.  Many of the people we saw had been displaced twice -- they'd lost everything and been forced to move to another part of the country, then they lost what replacements they'd been able to scramble and were forced to move again.

One of the things I remember most about that time is the incredible people I met and worked with, over and over and over.  The other volunteers.  The survivors.  The National Guard service members, local law enforcement, firefighters, and paramedics.  The people who offered their workplace for our volunteer staff shelter, and tried to make it as homey as possible.

The way people pulled together to pull together.

--------------------------

It is vitally important to lift up recognition of the structurally racist nature of emergency planning and response by local and federal officials in the Gulf Coast region before, during, and after hurricane season 2005.   Yes, natural disasters generally affect people who are poor, people with disabilities, and people of color harder than they affect non-disabled middle-class white people.  But with Katrina especially, that disproportionate impact was so. much. greater.  It was, and still is, very hard not to see that as almost deliberate -- as the logical consequence of a long, long series of racist decisions and choices.

Black lives matter, dammit.  

Other people, especially people of color, have written about this much better than I can, and I encourage you to seek out what they have to say. Especially about the roots and the long-term effects of that racist decision-making. 

--------------------------

I know I have more to write about that time, but none of it is quite here yet.  In the meantime, while that's brewing, here are two excerpts from other things I've written in the past: 

At the five-year anniversary: 

Five years ago, we had just moved to the Midwest, and I was listening to the news coverage after Hurricane Katrina and getting angrier and angrier.

Well, that had happened after September 11th, too; and then, the Red Cross had desperately needed help, too.  So I'd taken my three community service days from work and answered phones at the SE PA Red Cross.  It wasn't glamorous, but it freed up trained people to go out in the field and deal with local disasters like house fires.  And it gave me something constructive to do.  Which was better than listening to people bitch all day at work about how we should, in fact, bomb Afghanistan back into the Stone Age.

So when I was getting pissed off after Katrina, I called the local Red Cross in Michigan, thinking I'd answer phones again. 

They asked me to go to the Gulf Coast and do Family Services / Client Services.  Case management.

And I did.

And it was an amazing experience.

I didn't have time to write much about it, and when I got back home, I left almost immediately for a family funeral; but I did write some.  And I also wrote a little in my article for Friends Journal. 

Excerpt from my Friends Journal article, "The Peace Testimony and Armed Forces Emergency Services":

As a Friend, I first got involved with the Red Cross through Disaster Services just after September 11, 2001. Like so many of us, I had a deep need to do something – something to help, and something that expressed the Peace Testimony. What I did was answer phones, all day, every day. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was needed, and it freed up experienced, trained volunteers to go out in the field.

After Hurricane Katrina, I again found myself raging at the news, and again felt that need to do something. So I thought I’d go answer phones again. But because I have experience as a pastoral counselor and case manager and the need was so great, the local Chapter asked me to go to the Gulf Coast instead.

Five weeks after the disaster, at just one service center, in just one town, my fellow volunteers and I saw and spoke with thousands of people every day. None of us could “fix” anything for them. True, we could help them apply for financial assistance. True, we could try to connect them with services. But we couldn’t repair their lives.

Mostly, what we could do was just be there with them.

It turned out our simple presence meant much more than financial assistance to many people.

“You came from where? To be here with us?”

“But you’re not getting paid?!”

“What about your family?”

“Thank you for coming down here.”

“I haven’t told anybody what happened, and it’s been more than a month.”

“We thought nobody cared about us.”

I already knew what a difference it made for me to have someone simply be with me when I was going through hard times. In Mississippi, I learned yet again that bearing witness is sacred work.

--------------------------

Hurricane Wilma, satellite view, 19 October 2005*

*

Hurricane Katrina, 28 August 2005.  By Jeff Schmaltz, MODIS Rapid Response Team, NASA/GSFC (http://visibleearth.nasa.gov/view_rec.php?id=7938) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Hurricane Rita, 5 September 2005.  By Jacques Descloitres, MODIS Rapid Response Team, NASA/GSFC (http://visibleearth.nasa.gov/view_rec.php?id=7957) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

Hurricane Wilma, 19 October 2005.  By NOAA Satellite and Information Service [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

If pictures of drowned refugee children make you want to cry or scream...

...then here is something concrete you can do.

I admit this is reminding me so very much of both of the aftermath of September 11th, 2001 and of the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina: looking at maps, reading and listening to the news, getting more and more pissed off, and feeling the need to Do Something.

If pictures of dead children washing up on Europe's beaches make you want to cry or scream, here is one practical thing you can do: give money to Médecins San Frontières / Doctors Without Borders (MSF).

MSF are running Search and Rescue operations in the Mediterranean Sea -- getting people off boats, giving them emergency medical care (including helivac'ing critically ill patients), and getting them to shore in Europe. They are also providing medical care in refugee camps in the countries people are fleeing from to Europe.

MSF people are saving lives every day, and any amount you can give would help. MSF is also a very solid organization.

• Get more information and donate here:
https://www.facebook.com/msf.english

• Click here to donate in your country:
http://www.msf.org/donate

• Click here for more information about MSF's Mediterranean operations:
http://www.msf.org.uk/country-region/migrant-search-and-rescue-in-the-mediterranean-sea

• Click here for first-person stories from MSF volunteers:
http://blogs.msf.org/en/staff/blogs/moving-stories

• Click here for a wonderful video first-person account from MSF nurse Carol Nagy:
http://www.smh.com.au/world/meet-carol-nagy-the-australian-nurse-on-board-a-refugee-rescue-ship-off-libya-20150829-gjajld.html

I wish I could embed the video so you could watch it here. 

Edited to add:

• This is another fun and fabulous fund-raiser for MSF:

http://www.p-hop.co.uk/

A Pagan Community Statement on the Environment

This is just beautiful -- and it calls us to action.

Please read it, and if it resonates for you, regardless of how you label yourself, please sign it.

You can read the whole thing, and sign as an individual and/or for an organization, at
http://www.ecopagan.com/. 

An excerpt:

Many of our ancestors realized what has now been supported by the scientific method and our expanding knowledge of the universe — that Earth’s biosphere may be understood as a single ecosystem and that all life on Earth is interconnected.

The very atoms of which we are composed connect us to the entire universe. Our hydrogen was produced in the Big Bang, and the other atoms essential for life were forged in the scorching furnaces of ancient stars. Beyond atoms, the molecules of life connect us to Earth, showing that we don’t live “on Earth” like some alien visitor, but rather that we are part of Earth, just as a volcano or river is part of Earth and its cycles.

We are earth, with carbon, nitrogen and phosphorus making up our bodies one day, and incorporated into mountains the next. We are air, giving food to the trees and grasses when we exhale, and breathing in their gift of free oxygen with each breath. We are fire, burning the energy of the Sun, captured and given to us by plants. We are water, with the oceans flowing in our veins and the same water that nourished the dinosaurs within our cells.

We are connected to our families, through links of love, to their relatives, and so on to the entire human species. Our family tree goes back further than the rise of humans, including all mammals, all animals, and all life on Earth. The entire Earth is our immense and joyous family reunion.

By NASA/Apollo 17 crew; taken by either Harrison Schmitt or Ron Evans [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

A love note from your Recording Clerk

This is an email I recently sent to the list-serv for Friends for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer Concerns (FLGBTQC): 

It's been a little over a year since Nominating Committee approached me and asked if I'd be willing to consider serving as FLGBTQC Recording Clerk.

To say I was surprised is putting it mildly.  Recording clerking is really, truly, absolutely Ministry That Would Not Have Occurred to Me.

Taking minutes by hand is painful for me.  I didn't have a laptop until very recently.  I am a terrible minute-taker in secular meetings.  I had never been remotely interested in being a recording clerk, and had in fact actively avoided recording for committee meetings.  It never occurred to me that I might have skills which are good for a recording clerk to have, or that I could be good as a recording clerk.

What changed?

Well, when I carefully asked F/friends on Nominating if there were any particular reasons they'd thought of me (I'm sure my dubiousness was thinly cloaked), I got a lot of really good answers.  The kind which sounded to me like Friends were listening to Spirit, and also like they know me pretty well, and were putting what they know of me together with things I hadn't thought of and the needs of the community.  (Go, Nominating.  This is a form of eldering: helping people recognize gifts of the Spirit they haven't recognized in themselves, and asking that those gifts be used in the service of the Spirit and the community.)

In Britain Yearly Meeting, Presiding Clerks record.  If I wasn't willing to learn to record, that meant I was cutting myself off from the possibility of serving as clerk of my Local Meeting or Area Meeting.  It meant I was deciding for Spirit ahead of time that I would never do this work.  That struck me as a Bad Idea.  

But the big thing that decided me was you, collectively.  Was this community.  I realized that if I was going to learn to be a Recording Clerk, I couldn't think of a better place to do it.  I have have been part of the Meeting holding newly-fledged co-clerks as they found their wings.  I knew you would hold me, as you / we always hold the clerking team, and that even if it wasn't particularly graceful, there would still be grace.  Lots of grace.

I began to feel really grateful for this opportunity, and excited about learning a whole new skill.

After I went on the clerks' training course at Woodbrooke, I knew I had what I needed, except for the experience of actually doing it.  And I was pretty sure I could be a good-enough recording clerk while you helped me become a better recording clerk.

The really good news is that it turns out I truly enjoy recording clerking.  Who knew?  And I really enjoyed being part of Quaker process in this particular way, a way I never have before, during our Meetings for Worship with Attention to Business last summer.

I love Quaker process.  I have always especially loved Quaker process in the FLGBTQC community.  Being able to come to our Meetings for Worship with Attention to Business has helped sustain me during some periods which were particularly dry when it came to spiritual community.

I also love nurturing Quaker process, and I love that this service is another way I can help do that within FLGBTQC.

Right now, many of us are getting ready for Mid-Winter Gathering and for our Meetings for Worship with Attention to Business there.

So, I ask that you continue to hold me, and the entire clerking team, in the Light and in love, in that same way I knew deep down I could count on you to do while I learned I could do something I had never done before.

With love,
Stasa

p.s.  Thank you.

Being in community when our Gods are different

This autumn, I had the privilege to attend Rhiannon Grant's workshop "Or Whatever You Call It" with F/friends from South East Scotland Area Meeting (Quakers).  It was an interesting and fun workshop, and I'm glad we brought it to SESAM.

Much of Grant's work with Quakers centres on how modern Friends use language to talk about That-Which-Is-Sacred, and is particularly informed by philosophy.  My work amongst Friends starts from experience, and then comes to language pretty quickly: we need language to reflect our experience, to be able to talk to each other about it, one way to be in spiritual community with each other.  And Quakers are very wordy, very language-oriented people.  So her approach was really interesting for me.  

After spending the day in different kinds of exercises, thinking and talking about different words, and what they mean, and why, and different names for Whatever You Call It, we settled into large-group worship-sharing with this query:

Does telling your truth require you to use any particular words? 

Quite a lot came bubbling up for me during this worship.

----------------

In order to be a faithful Friend, {my truth requires me to / Goddess requires me to / I must} use words some Friends often react to with hostility.  Goddess.  Witch.  Pagan.  Priestess.  Gods.  But other minority Friends, especially other Pagan and non-Christian Friends, are often very relieved to hear those words.

If I am speaking my own truth, in my own words, not translating into other people's words / language, then yes, it does require particular words.

To what extent are we obligated to translate as we speak?  As we listen?  Why am I so often, as a minority, the person expected to do both?

I, as a non-Christian Friend, am expected to be conversant about Jesus.  Why aren't other Friends expected to be conversant with other Gods?

Yes, well, Quakerism is also historically white and straight as well.

Gods, plural.  If you want me to take your relationship with Jesus, Spirit, God, Whatever You Call It, seriously, and I want you to take my relationship with the Goddess / the Gods seriously, we both have to allow as how they both might exist -- and are not the same.

---------------- 

Among Friends, I no longer have to pretend my wife is a man and I'm in a mixed-gender relationship.  I no longer have to translate into heterosexual marriage terms for other Friends.

I should not have to pretend I'm in relationship with a different Deity than the One(s) I am in relationship with, either.

If you want me to take your relationship with Jesus, Spirit, God, Whatever You Call It, seriously, then you need to take my relationship with the Goddess / the Gods seriously.  

Brigid is not Jesus in a skirt.  And the Cailleach is neither.

I am talking about radical equality.

Jesus is a privileged god in Quakerism.

Jesus cannot be a privileged god if we are all Friends and all Friends are equal.

What does radical equality ask of each of us when it comes to being present with, bearing witness to, each others' spiritual lives?  When it comes to being in spiritual community with one another?  

Survival and standing in our integrity, at Thanksgiving and every other day

There's an American holiday this month that is often associated with family.  I have been holding in my heart the too-many people I know and care about who are not welcome at their family Thanksgiving, or who are otherwise alienated or estranged from their families, born or chosen, for refusing to lie. For not pretending to be straight, for not pretending to be a gender they're not, for not tolerating abuse or harassment, for not pretending to be a religion they're not.

For living honestly and with integrity.

That integrity is often necessary for survival. Being alienated from our families may be the price we pay for our mental and physical health, but that alienation takes a toll in physical and mental health, too. The simple fact of that discrimination, that our families treat us that way, and the separation from our folks.

No one should ever have to choose between survival and our families. And too often, our families ask that of us. This shit is hard.

Our lives are worth that integrity.

The Confederate Flag and (White) Southern Pride

The following is reprinted with permission from the author.  - sm

To those who, like me, were raised to believe that the Confederate Flag is a symbol of Southern Pride...

I grew up in Maryland, the Old Line State. My birthplace was not that far south of the Mason-Dixon line. My father's people, though, were from Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia, and North Carolina. Family lore has it that one of my great-great-great grand uncles from Virginia took up the cause against Northern aggression, was captured, and slowly was starved to death at the Point Lookout prison camp for Confederate soldiers in Maryland. I was raised to be proud of that ancestor's reputation for kindness to everyone - even his slaves- and for being a responsible and loving family man. I was reminded that we should not be ashamed of our history and we should learn from it. I learned those lessons in places where almost every garage or work shed had the Confederate Flag hanging. I learned those lessons from kind, caring, loving people, who always gave generously to everyone, even when they didn't have enough.

I have retained many of those lessons, about sacrifice and duty and family and history. But there is another lesson from my ancestor that I carry with me every day and use as a "check" in my interactions with people who do not share my experiences. If the myth of my ancestor is true – if he was a kind, loving, generous-to-a-fault person, who fought and died for his State and who was kind to everyone, free or not – then the real lesson that I have to learn is that otherwise kind, caring, and brave people are capable of unspeakable acts of cruelty, particularly when social norms permit that cruelty.

I am not guilty about my family’s past history. That history, however, serves as a powerful reminder. Just like my ancestor was able to convince himself that owning humans could somehow fit into a moral scheme that supposedly valued generosity and kindness, I am sure that there are things that I convince myself are totally valid and proper that actually are cruel and devaluing. That's the complicated white Southern history that I think about when I see the flag. The Confederate flag reminds me to listen critically, especially when the words that I hear make me feel uncomfortable and defensive.

To those who, like me, were raised to view the Confederate Flag as a symbol of Southern pride.... We all know, each one of us, that the flag isn't really a symbol of Southern pride. It's a symbol of white Southern pride. We edit out the "white" part because it makes us uncomfortable and reveals the flag for what it really is. If we are being honest with ourselves, though, we know the "white" is still there. I know many people who fly the flag and speak of Southern pride, but behind closed doors speak fondly of the days of segregation. I still see in my mind the Confederate flags that the KKK flew in front of my best friend's store in Southern Maryland when the Klan wanted her father, a prominent Indian immigrant, to move. I still remember the Confederate flag flying in the garage of a neighbor who addressed her housekeeper, whom she loved dearly, not as “Miss___” but as “Black ___.” I remember the sound of the Confederate flag flapping when I was 6 or 7 and drinking a Coca-Cola in a small general store off a dirt road in West-By-God Virginia that had a "No Coloreds" sign in the window (1983 or 84). Here's a little bit of truth... No matter how much we want the flag to be our symbol of survival and rebellion and states' rights, we know deep down that the flag is just as much about white pride. That kind of pride comes at someone else's expense.

We know, if we’re being honest, that the flag is a weapon. It terrorizes. I am sure that my neighbor’s housekeeper, who was from the South, did not view her southern heritage as wrapped up in those stars and bars. Even though I may really want the flag to be a symbol of my love of the South, I know deep down that it is a threat to a whole class of fellow Southerners.

But I don't mean it that way. I'm a kind, caring, generous person, just showing my pride, I'd do anything for anyone, black white or otherwise. Don’t be so sensitive. And there it is. The lesson my ancestor taught me. While being kind, caring, and generous, I am capable of hanging a threat in my dorm hallway and scaring the hell out of someone for whom the flag is a notice that terrible things are coming.

What happened at Bryn Mawr College happens every day around the country. It happens in backyards and on porches and at the end of piers and over beer coolers in garages. It happens in the North as much as in the South. I purposely am not getting into the procedural mechanics of any student or College or governmental entity’s specific response to the flying of that flag. I purposely am not directing this letter to those who have been terrorized by that flag. Instead, I am speaking to those of you who, like me, were raised in the shadow of that flag, who will argue that I am trying to ignore my history or am ashamed of my past. Know this. It is precisely because I have a deep pride and respect for where I come from, and it is in honor of my history and my ancestors, that I will remember that it is the impact of my actions that count. My intent is meaningless. That is why I do not need to fly the flag. Its lessons already are etched on my heart.

The author is a BMC graduate from MD. She remains thankful for her Bryn Mawr education, which taught her about critical thinking and cussed individualism.

Some Experiences with a Culture of Consent and Radical Inclusion

In the midst of the renewed coverage of sexual predators in religious and spiritual communities, I want to talk about what it's like to experience a culture of consent -- how a culture of consent can be about expansion rather than contraction, how it can embody radical love and radical inclusion.  

My starting point is a piece Christine Hoff Kraemer recently wrote at Patheos Pagan's Sermons from the Mound, "Erotic Ethics and Pagan Consent Culture."  I highly recommend it.  Go ahead and read it; I'll wait.

One of the things Christine talks about, among her many excellent points, is creating a culture of consent around non-sexual touch, and about how this can affirm the sacredness of touch between people:

Rather than focusing purely on sexual touch, let’s focus on touch in general. If we create a culture of consent around touch, and learn to treat touch as an opportunity for a sacramental moment between two people, we will have clear standards for what constitutes appropriate touch in all cases. Not only will it be easier to identify boundary-violating warning signs from potential predators, but well-meaning people will find it easier to offer and accept touch only when it’s wanted, not out of a sense of social obligation.

It was to this point in particular I responded in a conversation I was part of on social media, with Christine and some other friends of hers and mine.  I found myself sharing a little bit about my experience with consent culture in FLGBTQC (Friends for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer Concerns).  Yvonne Aburrow, Christine's co-blogger and another friend and colleague of mine, asked me if I'd write a blog post about it.

I can share only about my own experience within FLGBTQC.  Other Friends' experience might be quite different, and the conclusions they draw from their experience might be different, as well.  

What is FLGBTQC?

Friends for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer Concerns is a North American Quaker faith community that affirms that of God in all people. Gathering twice yearly for worship and play, we draw sustenance from each other and from the Spirit for our work and life in the world. We are learning that radical inclusion and radical love bring further light to Quaker testimony and life.  

Read more here: http://flgbtqc.quaker.org/whatis.html. 

I've been part of FLGBTQC since the early aughts.  It's in many ways a diverse community, in other ways a homogeneous one.  We're not perfect, but we do try to attend to each others' needs, particularly around safety.  So many of us come from, and spend time in, communities and places that aren't safe for us -- spiritually, yes, but also emotionally, psychologically, and even physically. 

For as long as I've participated in FLGBTQC, our Ministry and Counsel committee has given what we refer to as "The Boundaries Talk" at the start of each gathering, and repeated it at different times throughout.

The Boundaries Talk, is, among other things, a reminder to ask before touching people.  A reminder not to make assumptions about people's boundaries when it comes to physical touch, but to find out if something even as seemingly simple as a hug is okay.

It's a reminder that although we're joyful to be together and happy to see each other, different people have different boundaries around physical touch; that while many of us enjoy being touched or hugged (or kissed or cuddled or...), not everyone does, nor is it safe for all of us; that these things can change over time, even with the same people; and that we need to ask before touching other people, rather than assuming even an arm around their shoulders works for them.  That while it may have been wonderful for both of you that you  swept this person up in a bear hug the last time you saw them, it might not be okay this time.  That it's very easy, especially when some of us have known each other a long time, and especially in a community as exuberantly affectionate as ours, to forget that not everyone wants or can tolerate physical affection.  So, check first.

That's basically it: don't assume; check first, no matter how well you think you know it's all right; "No" is a perfectly acceptable answer.

Here are some cute cats cuddling after asking first. 
Photo By Lazy_Lightning (http://www.flickr.com/photos/drienne/273467543/) [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

I remember how for many years, The Boundaries Talk was this... icky necessity.  Many of us groaned.  Many times the member of M&C giving the talk groaned.  But it was helpful. 

But something started to shift over time.

At first I noticed how my perception of The Boundaries Talk and asking about touch changed.  Then I noticed that the feeling overall about The Boundaries Talk and asking about touch and consent seemed to be changing, too.

A number of things contributed to this shift.

One thing was in our conversations about gender-designated bathrooms and safety.  Transgender and genderqueer people spoke openly about what they need in order to have safe bathrooms.  Cisgender people who are members of other minorities spoke openly about what they need in order to have safe bathrooms.  Sexual assault survivors of different genders spoke openly about what they need in order to have safe bathrooms.  Many people in our community spoke about safety, boundaries, and their needs and experiences, not just with bathrooms, but in other circumstances, such as queer-focused Quaker space, and still more.

Because this larger conversation sprang from the initial question of gender-neutral and gender-designated bathrooms, this meant we really looked at some of our assumptions about what good boundaries and safety actually are.  This was a real gift.  I think we learned a lot as a community. 

I listened.  I learned.  I grew.  I changed. 

A second thing was a wider conversation, a wider opening, around accessibility overall: 

Bathrooms had become clear as an issue of the accessibility of our community for transgender and genderqueer people, something people within our community need in order to participate fully in our community.  Friends General Conference Gathering, which FLGBTQC participates in, became fragrance-free so as to be more accessible to people with fragrance and chemical sensitivities, and to a wider range of people with chronic illness.  FLGBTQC Mid-Winter Gathering also went fragrance-free.  We started to talk more about hidden disabilities, the kind you can't tell are there when you look at someone, about how those affect our ability to participate fully in our community and our events, about the things we as a community can do to increase accessibility.

People with chronic illness and chronic pain started speaking up more about how their ability to participate in and to tolerate different kinds of physical touch varies over time -- and how other people can't tell, so it's essential to ask.  Clasping someone's arms, or hugging them, or putting your arm around their shoulder, could cause them intense pain for the rest of the day, or prevent them from from carrying their own tray at dinner or from sleeping that night, or be a wonderful experience.  A kiss on the cheek might be lovely, or it might make someone really dizzy.

It became clear that asking about touch is an accessibility issue for many people with disabilities in our community.

Yet another thing was how people with different neurological issues started speaking up about touch and consent.  Some neuro-atypical people, including some people with autism, can't tolerate hugs; some just don't like them; some like them some of the time; some love them.  Some people with migraine love physical touch some of the time and can't tolerate it other times.  Someone's balance might be fine if you hug them one day, or one part of the day, but a hug might knock them over another time.

Again, it became clear that not automatically hugging or otherwise touching people makes the community more accessible for many of us, makes it more possible for more of us to participate fully in community.

To me, it seemed that consent was expanding our community life, not constricting it as so many of us had often assumed. 

People started living and modeling consent. 

The first time a dear F/friend with whom I've shared many hugs asked me, with an incredible grin, "I'd love to give you a hug; is that all right with you, or shall we do something else?," I was floored.  But it was actually super-helpful: my balance wasn't great that day, so I was able to tell her what I needed, and we were able to have a really lovely hug and I stayed upright on my feet.  It was awesome.  It was also a much better hug than it otherwise would have been. 

While our Gatherings might be fragrance-free, we often have to travel through fragranced spaces to get there.  "I'd love to hug you, but I had to use the fragranced soap at the rest stop, so I'm going to stand here and wave enthusiastically," another F/friend said to me once.  I waved and grinned and blew kisses back.  I felt loved.  They felt loved.  We were delighted to see each other.  I didn't get sick, and I didn't make anyone else sick later, either.  It was a wonderful, dear, tender experience. 

And yet another thing was how people who were simply not comfortable with obligatory social touch started saying things like, "No, thanks, I don't like hugs, but I'd love to blow you a kiss."  I can't tell you how much more warm and fuzzy I feel when someone and I can do this, instead of feeling all socially awkward and like I've just violated a boundary I didn't even know was there, or like I've made someone uncomfortable when all I wanted to do was tell them how glad I am to see them.  It's also been really nice for me not to have to hug someone I'm not comfortable hugging, and clasp their hand warmly and with affection, instead. 

There's been less Obligatory Social Touch, and more room for genuine warmth. 

Through this process, the possibilities for our exuberant affection within our community have expanded. 

It has become clearer and clearer that things like consent for non-sexual touch, and The Boundaries Talk, are things that help our community be more accessible for all of us, that help more of us participate fully in our community.  That checking in is an accessibility tool.

Somewhere in there, things like The Boundaries Talk and asking before touching -- consent -- stopped being about constriction, and instead became about expansion.

Expansion of accessibility.  

Expansion of our radical inclusion.

An expression of our radical inclusion.

It's a joyful way to be in community with each other.  I highly recommend it to others.

-----------------

Some further reading:

Protecting Our Children, Protecting Ourselves
http://www.naturenurtured.com/2014/04/02/protecting-our-children-protecting-ourselves/

Respecting Others' Boundaries
sue-still-i-am-one.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/respecting-others-boundaries.html

Erotic Ethics and Pagan Consent Culture
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/sermonsfromthemound/2014/03/erotic-ethics/

Silence equals complicity: making Pagan groups safe for everyone
http://www.patheos.com/blogs/sermonsfromthemound/2014/03/silence-equals-death/

Community Statement on Religious Sexual Abuse
http://www.brendanmyers.net/wickedrabbit/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=33%3Afinished-the-community-statement-on-religious-sexual-abuse&catid=11%3Anewscategory&limitstart=3

Whatever happened to the pagan community statement on religious sexual abuse?
http://www.brendanmyers.net/blog/2014/03/whatever-happened-to-the-pagan-community-statement-on-religious-sexual-abuse/

Growing Faith in Blessed Community
http://www.friendsjournal.org/growing-faith-blessed-community/

Epistle from the Polyamorous and/or Kinky Friends Retreat

Sharing.  - sm

Dear Friends,

During the weekend of March 21, 2014, a small group of Friends who identify as polyamorous and/or kinky met together in retreat for fellowship and discernment, with a focus on the intersection of spirituality and sexuality. We enjoyed good food and warm fires as we shared stories and got to know each other better.

We are part of a larger group of Friends who have been meeting during FGC Gatherings and FLGBTQC Midwinter Gatherings over the last few years, and this was our first opportunity for such an extended time together. We continue to wrestle worshipfully with questions of how we might be more integrated into the wider community of the Religious Society of Friends. We long to have our relationships recognized and respected, but we also hope to share our gifts, talents, and ministry.  We are abundantly blessed with gifts for open-hearted loving, and experienced with the radical honesty that our relationships call us to. We hold ourselves to high standards of integrity, truth, and faithfulness, and it pains us that we are limited in the expression of our gifts by common misunderstandings of who we are and what we do.

We wonder why the Divine has brought us together, and what our faithful work might be. We are on a path that is not clear to us, but despite our fears and uncertainties, we strive to be faithful, and to use the relative privilege and safety we enjoy to begin work that we hope will increase understanding, grace, and love. Sending this epistle in the tradition of Friends is our next step. We welcome your prayers as our work continues and our path slowly unfolds before us.

In love and faithfulness,

SH, Daniel C. Hall, David, Vonn New, Adlai, Su Penn, Ann, SW, CL, and Judy

"An Open Letter to the General Secretary of Friends United Meeting"

An Open Letter to the General Secretary of Friends United Meeting
by Helen Marie Staab

Good evening Colin,

My name is Helen and I was present for the discussion at Beacon Hill Friends House this past Sunday. I wanted to write to thank you for coming all this way to speak with us, and to take a moment to speak to my concerns on this issue.

I want to be clear that while this is a deeply personal issue for me, it is also deeply spiritual. Neither my personal stake in rights for LGBTQ Friends nor the current cultural climate make my feelings on this any less Spirit-led. I too have labored with, prayed over, and sought truth on this subject. My struggle has not been to discern the morality or sinfulness of my sexuality, but whether I can be part of a religion that uses theology as an excuse for bigotry. I have struggled with whether, as a youth worker, I can encourage youth to be Quaker when I know that not all circles of Friends will welcome them. I have questioned whether I can faithfully live my ministry as a youth worker in a broader community that would have me hide who I am in order to be allowed to work with youth.

I am honored to spend time with Quaker youth, Queer youth, and broader populations of underprivileged youth, and I can tell you that this is a life or death situation. The risk that Quakers take when we cannot unite against prejudice is not that some straight Friends are going to feel uncomfortable, it's that people will keep on dying, and we will be complicit in our inaction.  There are children sleeping on the street, being murdered, and killing themselves because they do not have a community that is willing to take a stand for them. I myself am not willing to prioritize the discomfort of overcoming prejudice over their lives. To be asked to do so is an insult to me, to the youth, and to the truth that I believe to be at the core of our faith.

Additionally insulting to my faith is the implication that a community can be welcoming without being affirming. When we welcome only the parts of a person that do not challenge us to grow, we invalidate their existence as a whole person. No person can feel truly welcome in a place where they are not affirmed, and to suggest that we ought to settle for that implies that we are not worthy of the full love of the community and of God. Communities that do not seek to affirm all members are stunting themselves spiritually and cutting themselves off from the possibility for wholeness. Quakerism teaches us that we must be ready to be transformed by our faith, and the principles of radical love and inclusivity require readiness for total transformation as well. To settle for anything less is to sell ourselves short.

I'm not going to address the theological basis for homophobia. I am hoping that you know as well as I that there is no possible justification that can outweigh our call to see the Light of God in every person and affirm each other's ability to love & grow in whatever form that comes. The time for Quakers to unify on this issue and come out in full support of LGBTQ rights has come and gone; we are behind. We have watched people die while we discern how uncomfortable it might make some of us to let go of our prejudices. My position on this may sound extreme, and I do empathize with the nuances and complexities that exist in our community, but it is as simple as this: We are here to witness and be transformed by the radical love of God and to bring that love to others. There is no room for discrimination there, and there is no justification for allowing suffering and death to continue while we pick and choose what manifestations of love we affirm.

I hope that you will take the words that you heard on Sunday back with you to others in FUM. I felt that discussion to be very powerful and spirit led, and I am endlessly grateful to be part of a community that speaks the truth so clearly and without hesitation. I hope too that you can hear my words and know that they are fueled both by a deep love for the Quaker community and a steadfast conviction that we can, and must, do better.  

(c) 2014 Helen Marie Staab.  Reprinted with permission.  

Winter Solstice

Today is the longest night and shortest day of the year in the Northern Hemisphere.

What time did the sun rise where you are, and what time will it set?

(Bonus points for folks in the Southern Hemisphere...)

You can find your sunrise and sunset times at these links:
http://www.timeanddate.com/astronomy/
http://www.usno.navy.mil/USNO/astronomical-applications

Happy Winter Solstice!

Gratitude: Nelson Mandela

How many of us are sad to learn of Nelson Mandela's death is likely not countable.

We all die. Death is part of life.  Mandela died at the end of a long and amazing life.  He gave South Africa and the rest of the world the gift of his life and his service, and we are tremendously enriched by that.  His death in the fullness of time is sad, yes -- but it is not tragic.  His death cannot make us poorer, cannot take away all he has done for his people and many peoples, cannot take away what he has given us.  His legacy goes on.  Who is remembered, lives; may his memory be a blessing.

And a goad to work for justice.

Gratitude: Nelson Mandela

What is something you have learned from Nelson Mandela?

An invitation to FLGBTQC Mid-Winter Gathering

Beloved Friends for LGBTQ Concerns,


The theme of our Midwinter Gathering, “Radically Inclusive Beloved Community,” guides our efforts to enable all who are led to attend this gathering to be there.  Travel Assistance funds are but one way in which we attempt to live up to this vision.

Are you led to come to the Midwinter Gathering of Friends for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender and Queer (LGBTQ) Concerns in Portland, Oregon February 14-17, 2014?  If so, please do not allow financial barriers to dissuade you from considering it.  Friends for LGBTQ Concerns is attempting to increasingly live out our values of inclusion, which means we will do our very best to make it possible for all who are so led to come to our gatherings.  You don’t need to identify as LGBT or Q, you don’t need to be a Quaker, and you don’t need to have attended a Friends for LGBTQ Concerns gathering before in order to request financial assistance.  Financial assistance is a major priority for our budget, and there are substantial funds available to help Friends and fellow spiritual travelers attend our Midwinter Gathering.  We ask that you help us to practice living out Beloved Community, and we also ask you to help us practice good stewardship of resources by carefully discerning:

1)      Are you led to come to the Midwinter Gathering 2014?
2)      What method of travel would best represent good stewardship of funds, the earth’s resources, and your personal emotional and physical reserves (e.g., biking, carpooling, taking a bus or train, flying)?
·        Please also consider also the price advantage in booking travel arrangements earlier rather than later.
·        If you are part of a Friends meeting, please consider asking your meeting (whether monthly, quarterly, or yearly) or church to help you attend. That way, FLGBTQC travel money can stretch further, and it can be nice for the home spiritual community to feel connected to the Friends for LGBTQ Concerns community.
·        Could you carpool with others?

3)      What amount of travel funds would be just the right amount to allow you to come?

The 2014 FLGBTQC Midwinter travel assistance application process:

First Round requests due December 6, grants made December 10.  We wish to encourage people to register early when possible in order to 1) make life easier for the hard-working midwinter planning committee and 2) save money by buying tickets earlier.  Co-Clerks will note which applications come in earlier, and at the same time try not to discriminate against Friends who don’t learn until closer to January 1 that they will be able to attend.

Second round: requests due January 1, grants made January 6. Any requests that come in after December 6 will be held until January 1st and considered together then. Also in the second round we may be able to look again at earlier requests that we were not able to fund fully.

To apply for travel funds, please email both co-clerks, at e-mail addresses listed below, by December 6 (first round) or January 1 (second round), putting “FLGBTQC Travel Funds” in the subject line of your e-mail and including the following:

1) Your name, and the name of anyone else included in your request
2) Please share the results of your discernment, as described above, regarding each of the following:
a)      Are you led to come to the Midwinter Gathering 2014?
b)      What method of travel will you use? Please consider what would best represent good stewardship of funds, the earth’s resources, and your personal, emotional, and physical reserves and time available (e.g., biking, carpooling, taking a bus or train, flying)?
c)      What total costs for travel do you anticipate, and how much you are requesting from FLGBTQC?
d)      Where else you are seeking funds?
3) To whom should a travel grant check be made (if funds transfer would be better, e.g if you are outside the US, please indicate this)?
4) Please provide your e-mail and snail mail addresses

Please forward this co-clerks’ love letter widely. Feel free to ask us about anything that is not clear. And please hold us in prayer that we may distribute the funds available so as to both promote the Beloved Community and practice good stewardship of finite funds.

In service, prayer, and love,
Ted Heck and Kathy Beth*
nmbr1flyingace[at]yahoo.com   
kathybethcoclerk[at]gmail.com
 (change the [at] to @ in each email address)

*whose regular attendance at FLGBTQC gatherings has been facilitated by these very funds.

For more information:

• Friends for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, and Queer Concerns: flgbtqc.quaker.org/
• FLGBTQC Gatherings: http://flgbtqc.quaker.org/gatherings.html
• FLGBTQC Mid-Winter Gathering 2014: https://sites.google.com/site/flgbtqcmw2014/

Spiritual practice peer support group invitation

Is there a spiritual practice you'd like to be doing regularly, but that you find you aren't quite managing to do?

I am putting together a free, 12-week virtual peer support group for people who want to engage in a regular spiritual practice and get support from other people.

- Free.
- On-line.
- Runs for 12 weeks.  

- You pick the spiritual practice you want to do.  It can be almost any spiritually-oriented practice or discipline.  It can be something you do by yourself or something you do in a group.  It can be mostly physical or mostly mental, or a mix.  Everyone in the group can have a different spiritual practice.  Since we're checking in weekly, it will be helpful if it's something you can do at least once a week. 

- Once every week, the group checks in about what happened in the past week and to get support from the others in the group.  Did I meet my goal this week?  What worked?  What didn't work?  If I didn't meet my goal, why not?  Was my goal realistic?  Too hard, too easy, just right?  Does my goal need to change?  How?

- Each group will have 13 people maximum. 

- We will do the check-ins on-line, in a locked blog, a private Facebook group, whatever fashion works best for the group.

- People are welcome from a wide range of spiritual traditions, including none at all. 

This 12-week cycle will start Sunday, 1 September and end Sunday, 1 December. 

If you're interested, let me know by leaving a comment or sending me an email at stasa dot website at gmail dot com.

(If you send email and don't hear back, the cyber-gremlins ate it; please try again.)