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.

On Hamilton: A Canadian Mennonite reflects on 'An American Musical' after Independence Day

I keep asking myself what took me so long.  After all, in my family I am surrounded by Hamiltons (or Epp Hamiltons). But now that I’ve finally listened to it, the cast recording of Lin Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton has been playing pretty much non-stop since I downloaded it several weeks ago.  It gets better every time.  I get caught up in the battles, the debates, the romance and betrayal. I’m not the first to express astonishment that the birth of this adopted nation of mine could be so interesting and dramatic, not to mention danceable.  And I don’t have to elaborate on what the internet has already said about how Miranda has recast the founding fathers as people of color, celebrates the work and contributions of immigrants (they get the job done), and given women a place in history through his musical. 

Is Hamilton making me love America? The dream that Miranda captures is compelling.  The optimism, hope and creativity are contagious.  But as many facts as I learned about the birth of this nation, the story is still historical fiction.  Washington repeats the refrain, “You have no control: Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?”  The losers definitely have no control.  This, like most of the stories of history passed down tell the story of victors.  Yes, Miranda tells the story of Alexander Hamilton with the voice of the man who was his adversary, villainized in memory, played by an actor of color, but we still hear the story from the perspective of the ones who came, saw and conquered.  Violently.  I don’t love that.

I don’t love the American celebration and idealization of violence (although those songs in Hamilton are so good) and I don’t love how we celebrate independence when we are not independent but, in fact totally dependent.  We are interdependent. We need each other, in our communities and in the community of the world.  I feel grateful to be a part of a Mennonite congregation that celebrates our dependence not only on each other but on the God who created us and all people, all creation.  It is a kind of dependence – among people and on the earth – that was well known to the first peoples of the Americas. 

Even as a latter day immigrant, I live with the complicated complicity of being a settler.  In Canada my ancestors farmed on Cree land in Saskatchewan, and now I live, work, and worship on what was Duwamish territory in Washington.  At Seattle Mennonite Church on Sunday we acknowledged our interdependence and were explicit: American ‘independence’ was achieved at the cost of many lives, European, African and Indigenous, and colonization pushed indigenous folks into reservations that were small compensation for all they lost.  And I live too understanding that many of the privileges I have taken for granted are because of my European heritage, won through violent means.

Although I feel the discomfort in my gut at having to face the complicity, I’m grateful.  And I feel grateful too that the Mennonite community here in the United States has, in my experience, been more engaged than in Canada with the question of how and whether we participate in government.  Or whether Christians of conscience should vote in federal elections.  Here in the US voters directly elect the person who is the Commander in Chief of the nation’s military, yet we Mennos place our allegiance in only in Jesus, whose message is peace.  I have been challenged to understand that there are many ways to participate in civic life and to build community and to love my neighbor and my enemy.  I’ve learned that the church can play the role of prophet in civic life: speaking the truth unspoken by history, calling out government on violence and injustice, renouncing doctrines that brutalize, building community and peacemaking in locally and internationally.

In Hamilton, as George Washington prepares to leave office, he quotes a prophet: “Everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree.  And no one will make them afraid.” Washington imagines settling down in his retirement in the verdant landscape of Mount Vernon, “At home in this nation we’ve made.”  For Micah, the prophet whose words he quoted, these words are part of God’s imagination for the whole earth, not just one exceptionalist part of it: “They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more; but they shall all sit under their own vines and under their own fig trees, and no one shall make them afraid”

I’m not sure that’s what Washington had in mind.  And I’m not sure how realistic it is, but it is certainly my prayer and dream for this nation that I live in and that we all inherited from Hamilton and his colleagues.  After the shooting at Pulse in Orlando, the cast of Hamilton performed ‘Yorktown (the world turned upside down)’ at the Tony Awards without the guns that they usually carry during that battle scene.  May we all learn to lay down our guns and not war against other nations (never mind each other).  May we learn instead to care for the earth and for our neighbor.  May we all have a share of what is good and made by God.  May we acknowledge when we have been the ones who cause fear and been takers and tyrants.  And may everyone go out and listen to Hamilton now so that we can have a group discussion and I won’t be the only one holding these questions!

On Hamilton: A Canadian Mennonite reflects on 'An American Musical' after Independence Day

I keep asking myself what took me so long.  After all, in my family I am surrounded by Hamiltons (or Epp Hamiltons). But now that I’ve finally listened to it, the cast recording of Lin Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton has been playing pretty much non-stop since I downloaded it several weeks ago.  It gets better every time.  I get caught up in the battles, the debates, the romance and betrayal. I’m not the first to express astonishment that the birth of this adopted nation of mine could be so interesting and dramatic, not to mention danceable.  And I don’t have to elaborate on what the internet has already said about how Miranda has recast the founding fathers by people of color, celebrates the work and contributions of immigrants (they get the job done), and given women a place in history through his musical. 

Is Hamilton making me love America? The dream that Miranda captures is compelling.  The optimism, hope and creativity are contagious.  But as many facts as I learned about the birth of this nation, the story is still historical fiction.  Washington repeats the refrain, “You have no control: Who lives, who dies, who tells your story?”  The losers definitely have no control.  This, like most of the stories of history passed down tell the story of victors.  Yes, Miranda tells the story of Alexander Hamilton with the voice of the man who was his adversary, villainized in memory, played by an actor of color, but we still hear the story from the perspective of the ones who came, saw and conquered.  Violently.  I don’t love that.

I don’t love the American celebration and idealization of violence (although those songs in Hamilton are so good) and I don’t love how we celebrate independence when we are not independent but, in fact totally dependent.  We are interdependent. We need each other, in our communities and in the community of the world.  I feel grateful to be a part of a Mennonite congregation that celebrates our dependence not only on each other but on the God who created us and all people, all creation.  It is a kind of dependence – among people and on the earth – that was well known to the first peoples of the Americas. 

Even as a latter day immigrant, I live with the complicated complicity of being a settler.  In Canada my ancestors farmed on Cree land in Saskatchewan, and now I live work, and worship on what was Duwamish territory in Washington.  At Seattle Mennonite Church on Sunday we acknowledged our interdependence and were explicit: American ‘independence’ was achieved at the cost of many lives, European, African and Indigenous, and colonization pushed indigenous folks into reservations that were small compensation for all they lost.  And I live too understanding that many of the privileges I have taken for granted are because of my European heritage, won through violent means.

Although I feel the discomfort in my gut as having to face the complicity, I’m grateful.  And I feel grateful too that the Mennonite community here in the United States has been, in my experience, more engaged than in Canada with the question of how and whether we participate in government.  Or whether Christians of conscience should vote.  Here in the US, voters directly elect the person who is the Commander in Chief of the nation’s military, yet we Mennos place our allegiance in only in Jesus whose message is peace.  I have been challenged to understand that there are many ways to participate in civic life and to build community and to love my neighbor and my enemy.  I’ve learned that the church can play the role of prophet in civic life – speaking the truth unspoken by history, calling out government on violence and injustice, renouncing doctrines that brutalize, building community and peacemaking in locally and internationally.

In Hamilton, as George Washington prepares to leave office, he quotes a prophet: “Everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree.  And no one will make them afraid.” Washington imagines settling down in his retirement in the verdant landscape of Mount Vernon, “At home in this nation we’ve made.”  For Micah, the prophet whose words he quoted, these words are part of God’s imagination for the whole earth, not just one exceptional part of it: “They shall beat their swords into ploughshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more; but they shall all sit under their own vines and under their own fig trees, and no one shall make them afraid”

I’m not sure that’s what Washington had in mind.  And I’m not sure how realistic it is, but it is certainly my prayer and dream for this nation that I live in and that we all inherited from Hamilton and his colleagues.  After the shooting at Pulse in Orlando, the cast of Hamilton performed ‘Yorktown (the world turned upside down)’ at the Tony Awards without the guns that they usually carry during that battle scene.  May we all learn to lay down our guns and not war against other nations (never mind each other).  May we learn instead to care for the earth and for our neighbor.  May we all have a share of what is good and made by God.  May we acknowledge when we have been the ones who cause fear and been takers and tyrants.  And everyone, go out and listen to Hamilton so that we can have a group discussion and I won’t be the only one holding these questions!

Movie Review: Home

Synopsys: 

A race of aliens called the Boov invade earth, sequestering all humans to Australia.  One girl is left behind and she meets an awkward outcast of the Boov.  Together they find that they can help each other and the planet in her quest to find her mother and his quest to find acceptance.

Pros:

First, I saw some interesting parallels to current conversations about race, about occupation and resettlement and with the refugee crisis and welcome of Muslim immigrants.  The Boov are motivated by fear.  They are fleeing from another alien who for a reason they don’t know is chasing them.  They seek refuge on other planets where they believe they can’t be found and terrorized.  The problem is that the way they do it is by rounding up all the people who currently live on the planet and settling them in one place.  With no attempt to build relationships with humans, both humans and Boov are fearful of each other, which means anger on the part of the humans and further (in this case humorous) security measures by the Boov. 

These dynamics are played out between the two central characters, 13-year-old Tip and a Boov named ‘Oh’.  (He got his name because people always groan when he shows up).  She’s both fearful and really angry that her mother has been taken away from her. And even though he’s not well liked by his fellow Boov because he’s sort of bungling and awkward, Oh is convinced that their mission is right and that his leaders know what’s best for them and for the humans.  As Tip and Oh get to know each other they realize not only that they don’t have to fear each other but that they can be friends.  As an immigrant from Barbados, Tip can finds she can relate to Oh; both of them are outsiders.  Finally understanding each other is what allows resolution as they bring this understanding to their two worlds. 

Home may be good way into talking about current issues when questions about refugees or otherness of all kinds comes up.  For example, “You know how in Home the aliens put all the people in Australia.  People have done that kind of thing to other people because we thought it was better for them.”  Or “You know how in Home the Boov were really scared, and that made them do things that we unkind to other people because they wanted to be safe?  Sometimes people act that way too.”

A second major pro in my mind is that there isn’t a lot of white skin in this movie.  The main character is a brown girl and the Oh and the Boov are an adorable shade of purple, which changes according to their emotions.  In fact people (and aliens) of color are the only characters with any dialogue.  And when does that ever happen in a movie that’s intended for a general audience and not specifically about a race-related theme??

Finally, no one is killed or has to die for there to be resolution.

Cons:

Well, the acting is mediocre and if you don’t like Rihanna or her music, this movie isn’t for you.  I was a little surprised to find that Tip, who is acted by the Rihanna was better than I thought she might be.  But it’s definitely a marketing vehicle for her music, which is all over them place as a soundtrack.  I was not really impressed by Jim Parsons as Oh.  In part it was the awkward, slight yoda-esque alien speak.  And in part, maybe he’s just a particular taste.  I was a little annoyed.

I was also kind of weirded out that the central character is a thirteen-year-old girl, but she’s acted by a woman and comes across as way older.  When you first meet her, she’s speeding off in a little red car and I assumed that she was a young adult for the first twenty minutes or so until she explicitly talks about being in 7^th grade and girls being mean.

Overall:

The cons that I saw in this movie didn’t bother the kid I watched it with.  In fact, she thought it was hilarious and is always partial to movies with girls at their center.   The slapstick of Oh’s uncontrollable tentacles, the a car powered by slushees, the misunderstanding that results from a character being unfamiliar with earth and encountering things for the first time are kid-pleasers. (Drinking motor oil instead of juice? So funny).  Even preschoolers who wouldn’t get any of the message-y stuff will like the bubblegum colors and humor.  And older kids might actually learn a little something.  It’s probably not one that will be on heavy rotation for me, but I recommend it.