Book Review: The Birchbark House series

The Birchbark House series

by Barbara Erdrich

It has long been my practice to center people of color and women in my own fiction reading. When I'm picking out books to read with my kids I've been less discriminating. I wouldn't read something overtly racist or sexist, but if reading Captain Underpants is what's going to get my kid interested in books, then I'll put up with a certain level of literal potty humor. But I do try a little, and ooh baby, do I have a recommendation for you. And by the way, even if you don't have elementary aged kiddos at the moment, I would have enjoyed these books simply for my own pleasure, so take a look!

I'd known and loved Louise Erdrich's work for a long time, two of my particular favorites being The Sentence and Future Home of the Living God. And I'd known that she had a series for kids but until I had a kid the right age, I wasn't motivated to take a look. I now really, really wish I'd read these much earlier. And I especially wish I'd had these books when I was a child and very into Little House on the Prairie.

Like the Little House series by Laura Ingalls Wilder, these books are set in the mid 1800s - though slightly earlier) and they take a journey through the Midwest - though more northerly. Unlike the Little House series, which depict indigenous people as savages to be feared and white settlers as pioneers and adventurers, the stories are rooted with Anishinaabe children and their families. They start at the western tip of Lake Superior and by the second generation have migrated west to the northern Dakota territory.

There are many of things I loved about these books. First, the window into what family life in indigenous communities looked like almost two centuries ago. The way life was tied to the seasons: rooted in one camp for spring and summer where they were close to maple sugaring trees and the garden and in another place in the winter and fall, where there was wild rice to be harvested and a place to cache food for the cold months. The way siblings across time and in all places tease and squabble and love each other. The work and play that buoyed life together, first in the woods among the birches, and then on the sweeping prairie, where camps follow the buffalo.

I loved the integration of Ojibway words and phrases - sometimes with meanings made explicit and sometimes you needed to figure out from context clues. The main character Omakayas told her annoying little brother, "Gego, Pinch!" (stop it, Pinch!) so often that I heard Orie repeating it to himself in the days following those chapters. Erdrich provides a glossary at the end of each book, but I found that we didn't need to consult it.

I also loved and was heartbroken by the unflinching approach to illness, death and conflict. These families experience starvation, small pox and forced migration. They endure tragedies and you mourn with them when loved ones are lost, experience their fear and despair during a kidnaping, rage when they are cheated and their belongings are stolen. But we also experience the deep love of family connection, the joy of sneaking a taste of maple sugar or learning to ride a horse for the first time, the triumph of stealing an eagle's feathers and the exhilaration of canoeing churning rapids.

There were times while Orie and I were reading these books when I did need to stop and check if he understood what was going on. Sometimes the storyline and situations are complicated. And they are often told from a child's perspective, when the child him or herself doesn't necessarily understand what's happening. These times were often when the families in the story encountered white people whose habits, language and ways were unfamiliar. For example, when Chickadee, one of Omakayas' twin sons is 'rescued' by a wagon full of women wearing long grey gowns with funny cloths on their heads and a man with a black robe they call 'Father.' They take Chickadee to a building where they try to cut off his braids and take his warm rabbit fur clothing before he escapes.

It was clear to me in that scenario that a priest and some nuns took Chickadee and that they wanted to 'civilize' him. But that wasn't clear to Chickadee and it wasn't clear to Orie, though it did start a conversation about they way the church treated indigenous children. Erdrich's depiction of white folks doesn't make them all into villains. In her stories both white and Anishnaabe people are good and kind, sneaky and terrible. But she does make clear that the incursion of settlement on indigenous territory is changing their way of life in a way that is difficult and sorrowful.

These books are just so nuanced and beautiful. The characters have so much life and personality. You can find them at the public library in every format. And of course, I support buying from local bookstores (Each book is only seven or eight dollars at Third Place). I read one in hard copy, listened to at least one audio book and read several on my e-reader. They are excellent in all the ways, but if you do read instead of listen, you'll also have access to Erdrich's soft pencil-drawn maps and illustrations. I love a book with a map!

If you or your kids do read them, I hope you'll tell me what you think because I could talk about them all day!

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever

This week many of you are preparing to film scenes for our video Christmas pageant. Maybe it was because I've been coordinating this year's pageant project that I picked up our old copy of The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson. I wasn't sure if it would be as great as I remember from when I was Orie's age. But folks, it holds up!
It is seven-year-old approved. It is so fun to read out loud and to giggle together at the antics of the Herman herd. (And so much better than reading Capatain Underpants again). The Herdman kids are known in their town for being bullies and agents of chaos. One Sunday the five siblings show up at church because they've been told that there'll be cake. Much to everyone's dismay they also all volunteer to be in the Christmas pageant. There's only one problem: they've never even heard the Christmas story. This fish-out-of-water situation leads to comedy and also to some eye-opening insight into a familiar Biblical story.

There is so much to love about this book. Above all, I love that it's so silly but still takes its characters and the story seriously. Orie keeps talking about how Imogene thinks Bill would have been a much better name than Jesus for Mary's baby.

I love both the questions and the pronouncements made by the Herdmans as they discover the Christmas story for the first time. They "wanted a bloody end to Herod, worried about Mary giving birth in a barn and called the wise men were a bunch of dirty spies."

I love all the characters, even prissy Alice Wendelken, who thinks she should have gotten the part of Mary but is too scared of Imogene to put up her hand, so instead she's taking notes of all the sins the Hermans are committing so she can tattle.

I love the way the haters are put in their place. The mom who's making the best of being stuck with leading the pageant shows up the stuck-up church ladies who think the Hermans will ruin everything. She determines that this pageant whiche everyone thinks will fail will be the best Christmas Pageant ever. And it is!

There are only a couple of asterisks I would put on my very hearty recommendation. I skipped over a couple of fat-phobic paragraphs of bullying by the Herdmans in the first chapter. And I was annoyed at the multiple mentions of a dad who's resigned to the fact that dinner's never ready for him because the mom is spending so much time working on the pageant. I mean, maybe you could make her dinner, buddy. She's got a lot on her plate. If they ever do an updated edition, these would be super things to fix.

For me, those small details aren't worth leaving the book on the shelf. I hope you read it and tell me what you love about it. And I hope you come to church on the 18th to see our own kids and families in our non-traditional but still great Christmas Pageant.

Jesus Came to Live, Not to Die

I made my child cry this Easter when I acknowledged that the Easter Bunny does not exist. I'm not sure where he got the idea that the Easter Bunny would bring him Easter goodies. It has always been pretty clear that I am the one who prepares the Easter baskets, write the treasure hunt clues and hides the eggs in the back yard. But there we were, a crying kid who's asking me, if Easter isn't about the bunny and candy and baby chicks, what is it about?? I did scramble a little to explain.

I've been in conversations with a few people recently who have been confounded about how to explain what Easter means to the young children in their lives. They haven't wanted to replicate the harmful and violent stories of God making Jesus die sacrificially or even as an example of Jesus' great love for humanity. So many of us had it drilled into us: you're a sinner and Jesus died for your sins! But if it's not about that, then what is the death of Jesus about?

The most succinct way of responding is by reframing the idea altogether: Jesus didn't come to die, he came to live!

I've been impressed by the work of Traci Smith and her approach to faith formation with children and families, so I really appreciated her conversation with two other folks who have been reconsidering how we frame Jesus' death. She, Daneen Akers and Herb Montgomery talk about the cross in way that both rejects the violent and harmful understandings we may have been taught and distills it in a way can be understood by children.

My own distillation of their conversation is this:

• Stick to the story - Find a good children's book or bible that sticks to what the bible says or use the Bible itself. There's not much need to extemporize if you say: "This is the story that Easter celebrates," and then read or tell it. (I'll include some suggestions below)
• Acknowledge Jesus' death as execution - God didn't kill Jesus, people did; scared, angry people who were worried that his power might mean they wouldn't be powerful any more. God is never please when a person is harmed or killed.
• Speak the good news of new life - the power of the Gospel story is that God raised Jesus from the dead. That doesn't mean that those who we love who have died will live again, but it does mean that Jesus' story wasn't over. Jesus lived again to keep preaching about God's love and to send his disciples to share God's message of love, forgiveness and new beginnings.

The reason for the eggs and bunnies and flowers, I told my distraught child, is that all of those things show us about new life. Plants and the earth around us have been cold and dark and dead all winter. In spring, when plants are growing, and animals are being born, we remember the new life that Jesus experienced and that God's love brings us new life and new beginnings too. (I actually wasn't quite as eloquent as that, that's the gist.)

I think that an Easter that celebrates the newness of life, the power of God's love over the violence of the world can engender empathy for the pain and suffering of the world in a way that believing God required suffering does not. May we all understand ourselves to be loved and blessed by this God who brings life.

Books for telling the Easter story:

• Children of God Storybook Bible - Desmond Tutu
• Growing in God’s Love: A Storybook Bible - edited by Elizabeth Caldwell
• Jesus is Risen - Augostino Traini
• Miracle Man - John Hendrix
• This is the Mystery of Easter - Amelia Dress Richardson

For a more middle/high grade look at the theology of atonement through a non-violent lens, the profile of Herb Montgomery in Holy Troublemakers and Unconventional Saints sums up Herb's approach. (There are several other free profiles there as well, including Bayard Rustin and Gustavo Gutierrez.) And if you want to go even further down that rabbit hole, check out his talks on nonviolence and the cross, where he draws heavily on liberation and womanist theologians.

A Wombat, A Nativity and A Mystery

 I've been pulling from my pile of Christmas stories for use in worship during Advent.  In one of my very favorites Australian animals put on a nativity play.  Wombat is eager to try out for a part.  Not only do we learn that a numbat and a bilby are animals (both - no surprise - marsupials), we see these adorable animals comfort poor Wombat when none of the roles is quite right for him.  Until...they all realize that there's one role that's just perfect.  

Oh. My. Goodness.  This book will definitely make your heart grow three sizes.  Pastor Megan read it on Sunday because I was keeping my coughs and sneezes at home.  You can see that portion of worship on our YouTube channel.

Another one of my favorites for Christmas is The Nativity.  This gem takes the King James Bible version of the nativity story (I edit liberally while reading) and adds Juli Vivas' gorgeous illustrations.  I wrote about it a couple years ago and many of our families received one with their Advent materials last year, thanks to the generosity of Rex and Lenae, who also love it.  If your family didn't get one yet, please let me know!

Finally, I'm currently on Day 7 of The Christmas Mystery by Jostein Gaarder.  This one's not a picture book, though it does have lovely chapter illustrations by Rosemary Wells, whose style I recognized immediately from the Max and Ruby and Yoko books. In a little bookshop in Norway, Joachim discovers an old advent calendar label "Magic Advent Calendar." Each day when he opens a door he's thrown into the story of another child - a little girl from 50 year ago.  In the company of an angel, a lamb, a shepherd and likely other characters I haven't learned of yet, a little girl named Elisabeth is running backward in time and space to the stable in Bethlehem where Jesus was born. 

I love a story within a story. I love a little magical realism.  I love fiction that takes faith seriously. And I love that at this moment there isn't much that interests both my teen and my six-year-old but so far they're both into it!  The chapters are short, fun to read aloud, and I could totally see this becoming an Advent tradition in our household.  One that's way better than chocolate - however fairly traded it is.  I offer gratitude and appreciation to Cindy Spencer for introducing me to this one. 

A blessing on your Advent reading and other activities.  

November: Indigenous Heritage Month

With the beginning of November comes the beginning of Indigenous Heritage Month. It's seeds were sown in 1976 when a Cherokee/Osage politician named Jerry C. Elliott-High Eagle authored Native American Awareness Week legislation. Ten years later, in 1986, the first week recognizing the heritage and cultural significance of indigenous peoples was proclaimed by Ronald Reagan who named November 23-20 American Indian Week. Finally in 1990, George W. Bush named November National Native American Heritage Month.
In worship we adults always acknowledge the Duwamish on whose land we gather. We hope that's language that is become internalized for our children who are present as well as for ourselves. But how else can we engage with indigenous culture and heritage in a respectful way? I went into an internet rabbit hole. The article Celebrating Native American Heritage Month: Do's and Don'ts by Ruth Hopkins (Dakota/Lakota Sioux) has some base-line starting places but I have some more specific suggestions.

Locally, we have such a great resource in the Duwamish Longhouse. You could visit the Longhouse for special exhibit The Spirit Returns or for the native art market on the weekend after Thanksgiving. Or explore contemporary and historical indigenous art at The Burke Museum, where you can also treat yourself to some fry bread at Off the Rez Cafe. (For more about fry bread, I definitely recommend Fry Bread by Kevin Noble Maillard (Seminole). He tells so much history of indigenous people in North American through a fun rhymey book with beautiful illustrations. Follow the link for a video of him reading and talking about it).

Looking for other literature for youth and children I rediscovered the American Indians in Children's Literature blog. Not only does Dr. Debbie Reese (Nambé Pueblo), author of the blog, post her 'Highly Recommended" books for children, she also shares red flags and things to avoid. Her (very long) list of Thanksgiving books to take off your shelf include some that might seem like beloved chestnuts: eg. Charles Schultz's Peanuts crew, Richard Scarry and the Berenstain Bears. Dr. Reese also offers ways to take action with publishers who are distributing books containing harmful images and ideas and so many other resources and tips for choosing kid lit featuring indigenous people.

A couple of authors that I can recommend are Richard Van Camp (Dene) Julie Flett (Metis) Cynthia Leitich Smith (Muskogee) and Louise Erdrich. All of these authors write both about indigenous people in history and about the lives of indigenous people now - combating the myth that somehow Native folks have disappeared and are a part of our history but not our present.

If you'd like to throw your money at indigenous artists and entrepreneurs, visit 8th Generation to purchase their products or see their guide to Native owned establishments and holiday events around Seattle. Check out the curated gift box of indigenous books and products by Raven Reads (they have a specifically kid-focused box), or the gifts boxes or other products by Sweetgrass Trading Company or the subscription boxes by Indigenous Box (I'm seriously considering this for my sister-in-law for Christmas).

If you have ideas or suggestions or practices that honor and recognize First Nations neighbors or Thanksgiving practices that upend the traditional narrative, I'd love to hear them.

Listen Past the Noise

 

This week in worship, the text from the narrative lectionary is the story of Elijah, who goes up on Mt Horeb to encounter God. He experiences an earthquake and a fierce wind and great fire. God isn't in any of those noisy and mighty phenomena. Instead, God come to Elijah in a "still, small voice" (KJV) or "a sound. Thin. Quiet" (CEB) or "the sound of sheer silence." (NRSV) While each of these versions translates the experience differently, it's clear that though sometimes God does who up with great force, this time Elijah needed to listen very closely and careful to hear God speaking.

In the time with children I'll be featuring Gabi Snyder's book Listen, which invites readers to "Listen past the noise." I love the way this book illustrates the practice of mindfulness and attentiveness. From the moment the featured character steps out of her house into the "big, wild world," she's surrounded by noise: barking dogs, honking cars, zooming motorbikes. She closes her eyes. "What if you stop... and listen? Can you hear each sound?" the book asks. She keeps noticing: not just the thump-thump of jump ropes and the crunch of gravel, but words of delight and hurt spoken by friends and classmates.

The care with which Gabi Snyder invites her readers to attend to the world around them reminds me of the mindfulness practice of noticing with the senses. Take a minutes to notice:
- 5 things you can see
- 4 things you can hear
- 3 things you feel
- 2 things you can smell
- 1 thing you can taste.
As I close my eyes now in my office and listen, I hear banging and clanging from the construction site across the parking lot, the click-clack of keys in Lee's office next door and the quiet hum of the florescent light above my head. Slowing down long enough to hear those things also slows and deepens by breathing and helps me be more aware of my own body and heart.

This book does that too. The girl is able to hear many sounds, but she also listens past the noise, and then past the silence. She hears the sounds of her body, the sounds of her feelings. The author asks children to think about what they hear when they listen to the quiet. The whoosh of breath? The voice inside?

In our understanding of the way God speaks, sometimes that tiny voice inside is a hint of God speaking. And until we quiet ourselves enough to hear, we just won't. The still, quiet space we make for ourselves can also make space for God or for our understanding of God within to grow.

You can find this book at the library or buy it from a local bookshop. But a quick cheat is to find it on YouTube and either listen to reader or pause and click through the pages read it yourself. The best one I found for pictures is here. For more book on mindfulness and careful listening I suggest the Susan Verde and Peter Reynolds "I Am..." book series, especially I Am Peace. I also like Breathing Makes it Better: a Book for Sad Days, Mad Days, Glad Days, and All the Feelings In-between. by Christopher Willard and Wendy O'Leary.

I'd love to hear what you heard when you listened. Or what practices help you and your family make space for the still, small voice of God.
--
Photo by Pelageia Zelenina from Pexels

Police and Prisons, Our Kids and Ourselves

I got a new picture book this week: Milo Imagines the World, a collaboration between two of my favorites: author Matt de la Pena and illustrator Christian Robinson. In it, a kid named Milo and his sister are on a long ride on the subway. It's an opportunity for Milo to imagine and draw the lives of all the people he sees, including a boy about his own age. Readers discover that Milo and his sister - and the other boy - are on their way to a correctional facility, where they are going to visit their mom. The way that de la Pena gives language to the emotions that Milo is feeling is poetry ("These monthly subway rides are never ending, and as usual, Milo is a shook-up soda.) And Robinson brings life and not only to Milo, but to Milo's imagination.

Milo's journey to the prison is also a journey of realization. When he sees that the other little boy, who he had imagined as someone who's experience was very different from his own, is heading for the same destination he is, Milo understands that the way he imagines the people in the subway might be way off and the pictures he made of them might have been all wrong! Readers begin to see that the ideas that we have about people - including people in prison - might also be based on biases or false narratives. You can read more about Milo at Social Justice Books, or listen to Christian Robinson talk about the book and illustrations on Vimeo (4:33-10:28 are particularly relevant).

At the same time as I'm enjoying Milo, I'm also reading We Do This Till we Free Us, essays on abolition by Miriam Kaba (much more slowly than the rest of the church book group, though I'm grateful they still let me listen in). Kaba writes about seeking justice beyond prison and punishment, building community as an alternative to policing, and transforming how we deal with harm and accountability. I'm not the only adult right now who's beginning to get on board with the idea of police and prison abolition. This awakening in our country is also happening in our denomination. Y'all may already have heard of the curriculum on abolition that MCUSA has created to help churches explore this idea.

But what about kids? The prevailing narrative in dominant culture is that police are the 'good guys.' They are here to help and keep everyone safe. From Paw Patrol to Brooklyn 99 (two programs popular with the young people in my family) media reinforces this narrative. Cops might be goofy or bumbling but are ultimately well intentioned and uphold justice with care. White children especially, who may rarely have had an encounter with police, don't have this narrative interrupted.

We know, though, that not every child does have life-experience to backs up the cultural narrative. Garfield Highschool teacher Jesse Hagopian tweeted last year about an assignment that his first grade son was asked to complete. The assignment invited students to read a page entitled "Police Protect Us" and then answer questions about the reading:

What are some of the things that police officers do? They pepper spray people like when they sprayed my dad.
Why do you think a police officer’s job is important? Nurses, doctors and ambulances are important, but not police!
What would be another good title for this story? Police don’t protect us.

In fact police had not protected this boy and his family. He and many other children have the experience that police threaten and/or do violence and harm to them and their communities.

In parallel to the dominant narrative about police being good, the narrative about prisons and the people in them is that the only reason people go to jail or to prison is that they're bad. Books like Milo make it clear that people in prison are loved and love others, have families, like to read stories and have dreams. They might be there because of limited choices, because they didn't have money to pay for representation or to pay bail, because of complications related to addiction - like illustrator Christian Robinson's own mom.

Milo Imagines the World is one of very few books that give children like Milo a mirror in which to see themselves and children like mine a window through which they can experience understanding and empathy. In addition to her writing and advocacy for and with adults, Kaba also wrote the picture book Missing Daddy because of her frustration finding materials that can help children deal with the “loss, grief, and trauma” of having a parent incarcerated. And there's a list of more books that address policing and prison at Social Justice Books which includes books for children as well as teens and adults.

Though I've been fumbling through attempting to interrupt the narrative about police in myself and my kids for awhile, I still find it helpful to hear new ideas. For example I found a post from the Oakland Public Library on Evaluating Children's Books about Police very helpful and applicable beyond just book and beyond just children. It offers language and questions to test when watching, reading or encountering other media. I also found the teaching guide created by Penguin Classroom helpful; the questions it asks of the books (it includes the author/illustrators other two collaborations as well) are questions we could ask of our own experiences and assumptions as well.

My learning curve now with myself and my family is in trying on ideas about alternatives to police and punishment. It's continuing to build alternatives to policing by creating stronger communities and connections, building empathy and resilience, practicing alternatives to punishment and adopting transformative practices in my own life. I look forward to our congregation continuing to deepen our understanding of the movement to abolish prison and policing.

I will certainly be engaging with the MCUSA curriculum and will likely adapt it to use with youth in fall or winter. I'd be curious if there are parents interested in working through it together with an eye toward how we talk to our children.If you are interested in practical alternatives to police and punishment you can use right now, check out Seattle Area Alternatives to Calling 911 and If You See Something, DO Something: 12 Things to do instead of calling the cops . May we all work together for a just peace!

The Very Best Nativity Ever

Last year I did a Christmas story round-up thanks to a parent who asked me what the best picture books are for teaching the Christmas story. After having lived with a number of those books, I can report that I stand by the list. But I also keep coming back to my favorite, The Nativity, illustrated by Julie Vivas. The text is from the King James Bible and if I have one critique of the book it's that a different version of the scripture would have been preferable. But I just substitute my own words when necessary and that fixes that. Below are the reasons I love this book this even more than ever, including one you might not expect, and which came as a surprise to me.

1) The beauty of the illustrations in general but especially of the animals and the angels. They are rag-tag and colorful. The angel's wings have holes and they wear combat boots. Gabriel sits with Mary over tea while a chicken hangs out under the table. In the announcement to the shepherds, angels ride the sheep (below). In an illustration after the birth, an angel is cradling the infant Jesus while Mary struggles to get back up on the donkey. 

2) And speaking of people holding the baby, this book contains the only image I can think of in which Joseph holds the infant Jesus. Pictured above, Joseph cuddles the little one, while Mary slumps on his shoulder. In ever other nativity scene, a kneeling Mary looks down at her little one beatifically while Joseph stands over them, possibly with a staff. And also here, there are more chickens!

3) And finally, naked baby Jesus. I never anticipated that the Christmas story would be the thing that prompted the "where do babies come from" conversation with my child, but why not, it's the nativity after all. And sure enough. Adorably naked baby Jesus seemed to be Orie's cue to ask, "How did the baby get out?" And so together we talked about uteruses and vaginas and labor and his own birth story. And no, he won't ever be able to have a uterus but he could have a partner who has one. It was a beautiful conversation.

Thank you Jesus and Julie Vivas for providing this opportunity to talk about bodies and birth. Merry Christmas, everyone. May you too lean into the surprising opportunities of the season.

Write This on Your Doorposts

In the book of Deuteronomy, when Moses receives the law and presents it to the people, he follows up with instructions: Repeat God’s commandments often - when you’re getting up and sitting down, going out and coming in - and bind them to the door post and gate in order that you may see them often and be reminded (Deut 6.) Some Jewish families take this instruction literally by posting mezuzahs, little capsules attached to a doorway which hold the first commandment to worship God alone. A concrete reminder to make God a priority.

In recent reading I’ve been challenged by author Natalie Frisk to think about whether I “have physical reminders of the good news message of Jesus around the house and in life” in the manner that’s encouraged by Moses’ instructions regarding the law. When I look around my house, I realize that I have plenty of religious themed art - both Christian and not, often mementos of travels to other places - but nothing that speaks specifically to the good news of Jesus and the call to walk in his footsteps.

In her book, Raising Disciples: How to make faith matter for our kids, Frisk talks about how important it is to make our faith visible, not only for our own sake, but for the sake of our children and all who enter our space.  If we internalize what is most central to our identity as Christians how will we pass it on? She inspired me. I thought about which of Jesus’ teachings are good news to me and which I seek most to follow and pass along to my own children.  Which do I want to be reminded of every day?

I’d been looking for something to hang in an awkward spot in my kitchen with weird dimensions and an oddly placed electrical panel.  No painting or hanging has been quite right. Neither of the quilts purchased at the MCA fit the spot and as I thought about making a quilt to cover it I’ve drawn a blank.  Until now.

Now our family will have Jesus’ words, “Blessed are the peacemakers” hanging before us as I cajole the kids through breakfast before school and as we eat dinner together as a family. Each Sunday as we light our peace lamp in worship we pray for a just peace for all creation. I hope that these words of Jesus in the kitchen will bless us to be that peace-filled presence.

In my own childhood home, our dining room wall held a framed quotation of Menno Simons.  Words which are drawn from Jesus and which may be well known to some in our congregation.  Word which have inspired me to a faith that shows itself in action: 

True evangelical faith cannot lie dormant, it clothes the naked; it feeds the hungry; it comforts the sorrowful; it shelters the destitute; it aids and consoles the sad; it binds up what is wounded; it becomes all things to all people.

That’s just a little too long for a quilt.

Making Mistakes

I make a lot of mistakes. Because of the nature of my work, I often make them publicly. I get the hymns wrong, completely forget that I'm supposed to be on prayers on a particular Sunday, mix up the order of service. I feel like it's almost my calling card at this point. And thanks be to God, my congregation is so gracious with me when I mess up. I count on them to call me out so that I can make up for and repair the mistakes.

This week in worship, my really dumb mistake was bringing a story Juneteenth to a children's time in May (if this is the first you've heard of this holiday read more here). Of course, Jonathan stood up and took credit for the mistake; it was his suggestion that because Sunday was the nineteenth, I should read a Juneteenth book. But duh! I knew it was May, I just didn't make that connection. So I was embarrassed. And y'all were gracious as usual. And I read the book Juneteenth for Mazie by Floyd Cooper anyway.

The other mistake that I made with this book, when I talked about enslaved people, was the softening the language I used to describe enslavement. I can't remember exactly what I said but it was something along the lines of, "Black people weren't treated fairly and weren't treated kindly."  I did not address the cruelty, violence and degradation of being enslaved.  I was called our after reading this book. Called in, actually. A term I've come across recently, which I like. I was called in to conversation that challenged me not to pretty-up slavery - or the contemporary experiences of blackness - because I think my white audience can't handle it. Even if they are children.

Even though I was the one who, after reading Jennifer Harvey wrote about having to break our (white) children's hearts so that they can experience a deeper empathy that prepares them to be anti-racist, I was trying to make the language nice and palatable for my young audience - and the rest of the the congregation as well. I floundered at the moment for how to talk about what slavery was and didn't do a great job. I also didn't to justice to the ongoing and persistent treatment of Black people intentionally and systemically because of white supremacy.

"Niceness is not courageous." Robin Diangelo says in this video about the problem with white folks thinking that being nice is the antidote to racism. Oof. Gut punch. So I pick myself up and try to do better. Be better. Have better conversations that do less harm. If you'd like to continue the conversation about Juneteenth in anticipation of its arrival next month, there are a few more books for kids you can look at in addition to the one I read. Another that I've read an liked myself is All Different Now by Angela Johnson. And you can also check out this list of Juneteenth books for young readers.

Tangentially Related Recommendation:
The television series Altanta created by Daniel Glover and the episode Juneteenth in particular, which was one of my favorites.

Follow up on Last Week:
More books for pre-k and elementary school aged kids about Ramadan and Eid, the celebration at the end of Ramadan, can be found here.

Reading for Hope and Justice

I wasn't planning on doing too many of these over the summer months. But it's been a very discouraging last few weeks, no? Stories and images of children separated from their parents after the trauma of the homes they left behind is almost too much too bear. And yet, people are somehow bearing it in their hearts and bodies every day - even here in Washington there are over 200 adults in the immigration detention center whose children are being kept elsewhere.

How on earth can we explain this crisis to our own children? Should we? As I often do, I turn to literature to help me have these conversations. I turned to a resource I've looked to for awhile and I discovered a cool new resource for parenting for justice.

Here Wee Read is an old favorite. Charnaie, the creator of this resource has several virtual stores through Amazon, including one on immigration. I found it to be a helpful bibliography of books at a variety of levels from preschool to young adult. I was unfamiliar with many, but can personally recommend Inside Out and Back Again, a story told in verse from the perspective of a Vietnamese refugee girl in the south. And The Sun is Also A Star, which is a YA novel about two teenagers: Korean American boy and a Jamaican girl on the eve of her deportation. It's a real tear-jerker/page-turner (Kindle-tapper?) love story, which I just found out is going to be made into a movie starring the star of Blackish and Grownish and a guy I didn't recognize from Riverdale. I'll be first in line.

Barefoot Mommy is my new discovery. A seminary educated social justice advocate who as a parent is putting her energy into how to raise socially conscious kids. She herself is parent to a five-year-old and a teen. This list of books has some overlap with the Here Wee Read list, but also includes discussion questions, audio of Story Corps interviews with immigrants and video of a young woman talking about being separated from her father by ICE. From there she links to other resources as well, including tools (like this one) for writing letters to legislators with kids.

Finally, our local libraries also have lists of books related to immigration. I've already put a bunch of them on hold. Don't be surprised if some of them make it into children's time over the summer.

Breaking Our Kids' Hearts

"We need to break our kids hearts," said Jennifer Harvey in her talk at The Well last Thursday evening. "There's nothing innocent about white innocence." In her follow up to her book Dear White Christians, called Raising White Kids: Bringing up Children in a Racially Unjust America Harvey is inspired by the questions and issues arising from her own parenting, and her desire to again address her own community: white folks. Most of the folks in our congregation who are parent are raising or have raised white kids. And all of us - parents of white kids or not - have ample opportunities to grow in the ways that we engage our families and communities around issues of awareness, bias, privilege and racial justice.

What Dr. Harvey means when she says we must break our children's hearts is that it is only our privilege that allows us to protect our kids from knowing personally the bias and racism experienced daily by people of color. We want our children to be people who are advocates for justice and equality and teaching them that everyone is the same - teaching 'colorblindness' - ignores the fact that people are in fact different. And those differences mean that those who are people of color have been and continue to be treated differently. The only way that our children can fight for their fellow humans, the only way they can be brave together through the awkward and the uncertain is to know the pain and tragedy of what happens because of implicit and explicit racism and then rebuild their understanding that we and they have agency to respond in just ways.

Harvey's book speaks from her own experience as a parent of white children and aunt to two black children. She starts from the beginning (there's literally a chapter called "Where do I start?") for folks who are at a loss for how to initiate conversations in their families. And she acknowledges that it can be fraught and confusing and awkward but presses us to dive in anyway. When we don't find ways of addressing race, children will notice and make their own conclusions about our opinions.

As a parent of a tween, I have my radar attuned to middle grade fiction that addresses issues of race, since I always like books to do a little of the work for me and give me a reference point in conversation. I have two suggestions that I think will also be meaningful reading for adults:

Feathers by Jacqueline Woodson (and any book by her - she writes picture books for younger children as well) deals with race, faith, disability and belonging through the eyes of a sixth grade girl. Franny is a black girl living in an all-black neighborhood but begins to ask questions about how black and white folks should interact when a white kid who looks a lot like Jesus shows up in her classroom. We read this book together and then we used the questions at the back of the book as a starting place for conversation about our own experience and attitudes.

Ghost Boys by Jewell Parker Rhodes (and anything by her too). I haven't read this one yet but heard the author on The Longest Shortest Time podcast and then went to see her the next day when I discovered that she was speaking and reading at the Seward Park Third Place Books. Her book starts with the shooting of Jerome, a 12-year-old black boy, by a white police officer. It tells the rest of the story through his eyes as a ghost - encountering both the grief of his family and community, a host of other ghosts, including Emmett Till, and the one child who can still see and hear him: Sarah, the daughter of the officer who shot him.

Both of these books are heartbreaking in just the way that Harvey suggests. They will break open our own and our kids' hearts in ways that we can put them back together again full of hope. Much of the hope in the books is lodged in the young protagonists and their peers. I was so impressed by Jewell Parker Rhodes in how full of joy she was in spite of the heavy content of her work. She sparkled with delight in the young people in her audience and urged all of us, young and old alike to tell stories like Jerome's and to talk to each other about how to build hope and justice in our communities. We can start in our own families.

When God Made You

It's hard to find children's picture books about God that don't make me cringe a little or change the language to re-interpret the theology while I'm reading or have pictures that reflect a diversity of people and culture. But recently I found Here Wee Read (@hereweeread) on Instagram. 

The reason I started following Here Wee Read, (which is also a website) is that Charnaie, the creator of the site and all its social media is an 'expert in diversity' and makes excellent suggestions of books that feature people of color or tell stories of black and brown leaders and innovators, and that help to introduce conversations about race even with very young children. I was delighted to learn that her suggestions sometimes also include books about God and/or the Bible.

When God Made You and When God Made Light are now regular reading at bedtime in our household. The illustrations are absolutely delightful and engaging; we pause at almost every page to talk about what's in the pictures because there are new things to notice, or we notice the same beautiful thing again and again. (It can take a long time to read these books because of this.) The lyrical, silly-serious lilt of the writing is fun to read and, as the kids say, gives me all the feels. Plus - and these are actually big ones for me - I never have to edit-as-I-go because the pronouns for God are Capital H He's, language for humanity is exclusive, or there's questionable theology, which I have to do even with the wonderful Children of God Storybook Bible by Desmond Tutu.

The illustrations are such a celebration of the beauty, creativity and personhood of little black girls that I was surprised to learn in an interview with the author, Mathew Paul Turner, that both the author and the illustrator are white dudes. (Read the interview here with Traci Smith, author of Faithful Families). In the interview Turner talks about his own frustration with reading to his kids. wanting to acknowledge the light of God's creativity and love within his own children and not finding anything that quite fit what he was looking for. So he wrote it himself.

There are some lines I can barely read without busting out crying with the beauty of imagining my child and all our children and each of us in all our belovedness.

"You, you, when God dreams about you,
God dreams aout all that in you will be true.
That you - God's you - will be hopeful and kind,
a giver who live with all heart, soul and mind...
A mover, a shaker, a lover of nature.
A builder of bridges, you the peacemaker...
'Cause when God made you, all of heaven was beaming.
Over YOU, God was smiling and already dreaming."

Black Lives Matter At School

"NOW THEREFORE, BE IT
RESOLVED, that the Seattle School Board declares that the lives of our black students matter, as well as the lives of all of our students of color; and therefore be it further
RESOLVED, that the School Board encourages participation district-wide in the Black Lives Matter At School Week from February 5-9, 2018 through discussions in classrooms and in homes."

I feel grateful to live in a city whose school board encourages its educators to embrace an active role in naming injustice and promoting equality.  One of the reasons I love my neighborhood school in Beacon Hill is that I know that in addition to being majority minority, it's intentional about having a global agenda, identifying inequity, teaching students to think critically and celebrating black lives and the people of color who have been shaped history and culture.

That said, having a child in a school like mine let's me off the hook a little.  Or rather, I let myself off the hook by leaning on the great stuff the school is already doing and not getting too involved in the day to day.  I pay the PTA membership and I show up to the occasional event, but I've never gone to a meeting.  I'm busy with all the things and its hard to think about adding one more.  I know I'm not alone.

Then I read this article on the SURJ (Showing Up for Racial Justice) website: "Act In" Where You Already Are.  The author talks about finding allies in the activities and organizations in which we're already a part and advocating and agitating for racial justice there.  "Racism is everywhere," she says, "We don't have to go to a special meeting to take action for racial justice. As families, we engage with a lot of people outside of “activist world” and can bring them into racial justice work through the mutual interest of raising kids in a world without racism."

So I don't go to PTA meetings.  But I do have several other involvements (including this church gig with all of you) where I can think about putting anti-racism energy.  Maybe you do go to the PTA meetings (I know some of you definitely do) and you can find allies in inviting a guest speaker or panel to talk about raising race-conscious kids.  Maybe you go to a library storytime that would entertain the question of using more people of color in books (and drawing attention to it).  Maybe you're in a book club that would choose to read books by people of color.  Maybe you work in a workplace that would be willing to support systemic anti-racism training like this one. I don't know...but you might!  And there are some concrete suggestions in the article and all over the SURJ website.

Last week a flyer got sent home in the backpacks of the kids in our school saying a little bit about what was going to be happening in school this week and suggestions for follow up.  But I know that using the curriculum is voluntary.  So I hope you're able to find way to advocate for justice in your communities and with your kids.

And a couple more resources to end on:
If you are interested in a workshop on how to be a better ally, check on the White Ally Toolkit this Saturday hosted by Valley and Mountain, The Well, and Kids4Peace Seattle.
Second, I've always got you with the book suggestions.  I just discovered a new Instagramer to follow: @hereweeread is a 'diversity and inclusion expert' and her Instagram features books (mostly for kids but some for adults as well) that celebrate black lives and accomplishments. Below are a couple of screen caps from her feed...so good!

 

Darkness in Light of MLK

After my rambling thoughts on how darkness isn't all bad last week, there's this quote by Dr. King:

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness.
Only light can do that.
Hate cannot drive out hate.
Only love can do that."
       -Dr. Martin Luther King Junior

One of my very favorite stories about a child learning about Martin Luther King is in an old episode of this American Life called 'Kid Logic'.  It's one of those mouths-of-babes stories where a child somehow cuts to the center of the message of love and justice that King preached as a follower of Jesus.  And the devastating consequences of that message of love.  I found the episode here. The story starts at  minute 13:10 in Act One of the show but the whole episode is a really great piece of radio storytelling.  Be warned though, if you're anything like me you will cry your eyes out EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. you listen to it.

I don't have any other deep thoughts to offer on the subject of kids and race this year.  I have often suggested books to read to kids on racial justice and building equality.  This time around I'll let the experts make the suggestions.  The Seattle Public Library has a couple of excellent lists for children across the age spectrum: "Race and Social Justice Books for kids K-5" I think is has a few books that look suitable for younger ones as well. "Reading and Talking to Kids about Race" also has both picture books and chapter books, as does "Reading Race: Fiction for Kids."  There's in the content of their lists but it seems like a great place to start to me and to test out books that you might want to have on your own shelves.
It's a good quote for a chaotic time. 

On our bookshelves at home I try to be intentional with the picture books we purchase that the illustrations feature a diversity of characters, whether or not the stories are explicitly about race.  One of the picture books favorites for the toddler right now (one of the few that's not about animals) is Up Up Down by Canadian author Robert Munsch (maybe most famous for The Paperbag Princess  and Love you Forever) about a little girl obsessed with climbing.  Because Munsch uses real kids in almost every one of his books (including his own kids, who are black) a lot of his books feature kids of color.  We also like Something Good, which is about Munsch and his daughter.

Whatever you do this weekend, may you find rest and connection in family and community (recognizing that sometimes 'rest' and 'connection' are mutually exclusive).

You Can't Wear God...Unless You Can

"You can't wear God."

Lauren Winner's book, titled Wearing God, was dismissed out of hand by the nine-year-old in the back seat, where the book had been languishing for several months.  (I started it after hearing a presentation about faith and fashion by Clara Berg, child of my congregation and now the Collections Specialist for Costumes and Textiles at Seattle's MOHAI).  I had tossed the book back there after reading the chapter 'Clothing' and 'Laboring Woman' - the two metaphors I was most interested in and connected to my experience.

The idea that God is ready-to-wear should be no more surprising than God being our rock and foundation,* or the light for my path** or, for that matter, laboring woman.*** As it turns out metaphor is all we have for God, who is only knowable through human experience and language.  This is tricky for humans (perhaps especially young humans) who like nice concrete handles on which to hang ideas.  We want to know exactly who and where God is.  We like certainty to be tacked to the wall like a family photo so we can look at it and be reminded: ‘Oh that’s nice, there's my spouse, whom I love and who loves me and who is now at work just as I am at work and we'll see each other later.’  But God will not be tacked.  Metaphor is what connects God to our experience and helps us to understand and get a glimpse - even if it's a small one - of God's nature and being.  It helps us place God.

The nine-year-old should not have been surprised either, having recently learned about metaphors in third grade.  She knows that metaphors are not a thing themselves but are a comparison that describe an aspect of the thing.  In fact, she came up with God being like a cloud (to be fair: a simile, not a metaphor) when she was four!  We have read books and had conversations about God's many names.  At the point of the declaration, we had the conversation again.  I guess we all need reminders.

We need reminders that we can wear God, who is comforts us like an old sweater.  And we can dwell in God, who is our home.  And we can turn our faces to the warmth of God, who is our sun.  God the washing machine agitates us and starts us fresh. We experience and know God in a multitude of ways, many of which are in the Bible.  And because we are human and God is God, we can each determine the best metaphor for our own experience of God, in whose image (whatever that is) we are created.  What is yours?

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* “My God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold” Psalm 18:2

** “Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path” Psalm 119:105

*** God: “For a long time I have held my peace, I have kept myself still and restrained myself; now I will cry out like a woman in labor, I will gasp and pant.” Isaiah 42:14