Little Miss Real Adult

It is Monday afternoon, and I have come to a conclusion. A few conclusions, actually. I've been in the middle of a sort of job crisis recently, as plenty of other people all over have. My crisis is a little different than a complete inability to find any job though.

See, I was hired as a canvasser not too long ago, and I was on track to getting promoted to leading other canvassers once I got familiar enough with canvassing myself. It didn't pay huge amounts, but it was better than minimum wage, actually. And, more importantly, the work I was doing was in the name of progressive organisations I liked. It had all the markings of the perfect job.

I hated it.

I've been trying to figure out why I hated it so much, all the while applying to jobs I thought I might enjoy more. It was far, so I applied for jobs in my own city. I worked long hours (13 hour days, with commute time), so I applied for jobs with shorter, reasonable shifts. It was impersonal, so I applied for jobs where I'd actually know my employer. And yet none of the jobs I applied for felt right either.

The voice in the back of my head had an answer I did not like.

I have an almost murderous desire to be "grown up." I always have. I have always wanted to be what my peers have all called "old." I called it wise. I wanted to be a real adult. I still do. And part of being a real adult is having a real job. Or so I've been told. About five million times.

The thing is, I'm wrong. What you do does not define who you are. Even if I had a "real" job, it wouldn't make me any more grown up. Working as a canvasser didn't make me any more grown up than being unemployed did. In fact, it just made me cranky, irritable, and immature. I have been beating myself up and trying to squeeze myself into the societal mold of "real adult" when I just don't fit. Amidst all of my own self-accusations of laziness and immaturity, all my attempts at "fitting in" have only pushed me backwards in maturity, not forward.

I am a self-employed, freelance sort of person. Maturity means recognising and accepting myself for who I am, not forcing myself into who I am not. Maturity also means doing something about it though too. Self-employed, freelance sort of people still have to work in order to be real adults. Maybe even a little harder. (Though non-"freelance" work feels infinitely harder to me.)

So here's my new plan, my new conclusion: instead of trying to find a job at a McDonald's sort of place, it's time for me to find ways to put my creative talents to use . . . creatively. Step one, advertise. Tell people. Reach out. So, besides using Craigslist to advertise things like piano/theatre lessons and dog walking, I am resolving to mention at least one "service" I offer at least once a week. Once on here, once on Facebook, once in a real conversation.

Dear blog readers, I can proofread for spelling and grammar issues.

Update

I'm behind on my posting. I know, I know. I've been a bit busy this week and am bracing myself for a horrendously busy weekend, so bear with me. I should have something up either Monday or Tuesday.

That's So Gay

Today is International Day against Homophobia and Transphobia. There's a lot you could do today, but the simplest would be to watch what you say. We (myself included) don't even notice the things we say sometimes or realise how they might be hurtful to others. The NBA's Phoenix Suns, GLSEN (Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network), and Ad Council recently teamed up to make this PSA which first aired during the Chicago-Miami game Sunday night:



There's also a petition on the International Day against Homophobia and Transphobia website (along with other opportunities and information regarding the fight against homophobia and transphobia) which is aimed specifically at "reparative therapy" in Latin America and the Caribbean. The petition has the support of organisations, institutions, and public persons from the area already, so it's not just another example of Americans sticking their nose in places without permission. There's a section for adding your own comment, and this is what I said:

As a survivor of "reparative therapy," I have personally experienced the feelings of guilt, shame, and self-loathing that result from such destructive "therapy"; I attempted to take my own life as a result of those feelings. "Reparative therapy" did not "repair" me in any way, but broke my spirit and destroyed my sense of self-worth. Only the voices of support, of people who have stood up fearlessly in the defense of "reparative therapy" victims and in the defense of the outcast and the oppressed, have provided true "repair" to my spirit and my self-worth. I urge everyone to raise their voice in support, to defend the dignity of every human being, and to bring an end to these destructive, so-called "reparative therapy" practices.

I urge you also to do whatever you can, no matter how big or small of an action, to stand up against homophobia and transphobia. It is the small acts of love and kindness which make the biggest difference, so please, take a moment today (and every day!) to spread a little more love and a little less hate, judgement, and intolerance. We'll make the world a much better place that way.

Genesis 3: Adam Goes to College

At the beginning of Genesis 3, my NIV Bible has the subtitle "The Fall of Man" which I crossed out and wrote, "Man grows up, goes to college, makes mistakes, LEARNS, GROWS—no longer under parents' protection." I'll admit that the NIV has a much catchier title than I do, but it's a misleading title.

Everyone knows this story (or almost everyone). God says don't eat from this tree, the snake convinces Eve to eat from the tree, she eats and shares with Adam, and then they realise they're naked and hide from God. So God kicks them out of Eden. This story is the basis of all kinds of theologies and ideologies I don't subscribe to which say that humans are inherently evil/sinful/bad. If you've been following my blog much, you might have already picked up on how very much I disagree: I believe humans are inherently good-seeking. This story is just as much a "crucial point" in the story of humanity though, even when not read as the moment when we condemned ourselves to hell. So here's what I'm reading:

Just before Genesis 3, we read: "And the man and his wife were both naked, and were not ashamed." (Genesis 2:25, RSV) Ignorance is bliss, isn't it? Adam and Eve are two young people, living a pretty easy life with everything given to them by their parents (God), and they don't have to worry about anything, not even their own nakedness. The relationship they have with God is that of a very young child and their parents: do what you're told, and your parents will take care of you. God is a pretty liberal parent, giving Adam and Eve only one rule: "You may freely eat of every tree of the garden; but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die." (Genesis 2:16-17) And it sounds reasonable, right? Probably just a poisonous fruit.

But along comes the snake who tells Eve that not only will it not kill her, but it'll actually make her smarter, wiser, and like God. What kid doesn't dream of being like their parent when they grow up? So she and Adam eat, and their eyes are opened. Adam and Eve eat some magical knowledge-granting fruit, and all of a sudden they realise they're naked—ignorant. No longer are they little kids, and yet they're naked. Instead of instant wisdom, what Adam and Eve get is the realisation that, holy crap, they don't know anything. Along comes God, and they do what any human would do if they were naked: they hide.

So after God finds out what happened, God declares some frightening punishments on Adam, Eve, and the serpent which seem to be coming from a wrathful God, but what I read looks a lot more like God explaining the rules of the game to new players. Adam and Eve decide to leave behind blissful ignorance and the protection of home in favour of labouring for knowledge and the struggle for wisdom. God can't magically hand wisdom to them, since it's not a tangible gift, so God tells them the truth about what what lies ahead: it's going to suck. It's going to be hard. They're going to groan and cry out. But there's no going back. And the snake, the catalyst? Adam and Eve are going to hate that jerk forever; they're going to hold a grudge.

It's part tribal explanation for why they hated snakes so damn much, part thought-provoking allegory. Here, the Bible challenges us to question our relationship with God. We don't have the "pre-Fall" relationship with God anymore, but wisdom didn't just fall out of the tree either. We're in that tough, awkward phase of our relationship with God between blissful youth and "real" adulthood. There is a Mark Twain quote (which varies depending on the source) which humourously describes this change in the relationship of child and parent nicely: "When I was a boy of 14, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years."

Just before sending Adam and Eve out of the garden, God makes them some clothes ("garments of skin"). Even in this moment that is so often referenced as the moment in which God turns from a loving God into a God who is disgusted by us, reviled by us, even hateful of us, God has not abandoned us.

This story isn't perfect. God didn't write it down for us, and even if God did, we still wouldn't magically understand. And that's the whole point here. The Israelites who kept this story in their oral tradition, and then at last wrote it down didn't understand everything either. Adam and Eve started the journey, and it is far from over. We're still learning, still journeying. In this ancient story, the Israelites tell of humans just like them who chose the pursuit of knowledge and wisdom over blissful ignorance. Adam and Eve chose to develop a conscious of their own and think for themselves rather than assume that what they were taught is right. In Genesis 3, moral conscious is born and we become a little more "like God" and a little less like animals. We become aware of our own foolishness and mortality and of the difference between good and evil. What we do with that knowledge is now up to us. God gives us clothes, but this is our journey. God will provide us with the tools we need, but it is our job to make use of what God offers, now that we have left the blissful ignorance of Eden.

The Death of Blogger: Why "The Cloud" Isn't Perfect Either

Blogger went down for regularly scheduled maintenance Wednesday, and everything seemed to be just fine . . . until the entire site went down indefinitely and without much explanation. According to Huffington Post, it was "nearly 24 hours of down time," but it felt like forever. Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday were all full of "Blogger is down" messages for me.

But there's more to this story than frustrated bloggers. This is coming right after Google's official unveiling of the Chromebook. (Take a look at Slate.com's 40-second video.) The Chromebook is all about what's called "the cloud," an imaginary, floating, indestructible, impossible-to-lose, immortal area of space on the Internet where you, according to Google, ought to move all of your business because the Internet never dies. Or something like that.

The cloud has its benefits: you can access it from any computer with internet (or phone!). If your computer dies, your data remains unharmed. If someone logs onto your computer, they can't just grab the files off your hard drive. It seems like the smart, safe, technologically sound way to go, right?

As evidenced by Blogger's dismal performance week, the cloud is not as perfect as Google claims. The cloud does not float in space. Your data is stored in a physical location which is still subject to all the dangers its subject to on your own computer, short of you defenestrating your computer. If Google screws something up, your data is lost (or just inaccessible). Imagine if your entire business was stored in the cloud! It should also be noted that any decent hacker could steal your data out of the cloud too, whether physically at your computer or not.

So what do I suggest? Use both. I'm not particularly good at keeping my blog posts anywhere but in the cloud, but much of the other things I write are stored in multiple locations. And all of the really important writing I keep copies of in the cloud (Facebook, Google, and other places), on my hard drive, printed (or hand-written), and on flash drives. Just like you wouldn't put your spare key(s) on the same keyring as your "usual key(s)," if it's a file you really don't want to lose, it's a good idea to always keep a spare copy somewhere else.

The Rules of Craigslist

I've started to become a bit of a Craigslist expert lately, in my search for a job that actually suits me, and so I feel it is time that I present to you The Rules of Craigslist:

1. Acting classes are scams.
2. "No experience necessary, make big money" jobs and the like are scams.
3. If the ad promises fame, you're not getting paid.
4. Music is a hobby, not a job. Good luck finding your music career while surfing the web and not playing shows.
5. An "older man" looking for a "companion" means prostitution minus the street corner. 
6. If the poster cannot spell, don't expect they'll get your name write on your paycheck either. 
7. The wonderful people offering to do you favours for free are lying.
8. If you really need money, learn how to knock on doors and ask for money and/or signature; there are always canvassing jobs on Craigslist.
9. Get a résumé; real jobs always ask for it.
10. And finally, if they have to tell you their company is hip, it isn't. Trust me.

Hope you enjoyed!

Hope and Despair

It just occurred to me how very far we've come. There I was, procrastinating on my ever-growing to-do list, when it just . . . hit me.

I find myself frustrated a lot. A whole lot. I wonder every day what on earth I'm so-called "fighting for." It seems like our existence is just a balancing game, that for every good one person does, someone else does "evil." The idealistic "perfect world" seems like a foolish fantasy: if everything is "good," than nothing is. You can't understand joy without understanding pain. And it seems every time we make "progress," we're simply faced with a new challenge, a new evil, to deal with. I often wonder if it'll ever end. Will we ever learn to love and not hate?

My realisation did not come in word form, so I am struggling to express my hope in the face of the despair which was so easy to articulate. Hope, some might say, is foolish, but perhaps it is despair that is truly foolish. We have come far from tribal wars and never ending conquests. Our society no longer praises things like slavery and the oppression of women. Places which practice these are scorned, looked down upon as barbaric and crude. Even homophobia is starting to look like intolerant asshole-ery. A Christian and a Jew can not only be friends, but they can get married, have kids, and hold onto their beliefs.

To see these things and still believe that the world is headed backwards is foolish. To believe that humanity can only do evil and not good is blindness. To think we are anything but selfish, hateful, destructive creatures is utterly asinine. Evil is not our nature, but our response to a lack of hope and faith. Faith, not in any particular religious doctrine nor in the life and ministry of any particular person, but faith in the inherent ability to do good in every single human being and faith that love can and will triumph over evil again and again and again. Faith that even the most selfish, hateful, and destructive among us have the capacity to be transformed by the power of love.

It is our pain and our despair which makes us forget, which makes us turn to selfish, hateful, destructive actions, but love can heal our pain and our despair, if only we make room for it to completely transform us and the world around us. We have come a very long way, and though we still have a very long way to go, I have faith that we can do it.

Outsourced Morality

People quoting Bible verses at each other really bugs me. I posted up this video which is part of Believe Out Loud's campaign calling on people of faith to "break the silence" and stand up for "full LGBT equality in the church." It's a beautiful video and a message worth spreading. Of course, when I posted it, I immediately got Biblical "literalists" telling me how clear the Bible is on homosexuality and, my favourite, simply leaving Bible verses. Let me reiterate: people quoting Bible verses at each other really bugs me.

I realised, however, it's not just Bible quoting that bugs me. It's the outsourcing of morality and the ideology which says, "This person/book said it, so it must be true." I get why people don't like Christians; there's this stereotype that Christians don't think for themselves based completely on this incessant outsourcing of morality. It's not "I think murder is wrong because my own conscious tells me so," but "I think murder is wrong because a book (the Bible) tells me so." What, then, if the Bible told you murder is okay? Or what if the translation you're reading is wrong?

After defending my right to be a Christian without agreeing with all Christians and calling out the incessant quoting of Bible verses as if that might settle the matter ("I can quote Bible verses too, but doing so is almost always just a fear-based tactic which preys on others and belittles their beliefs while asserting one's own Biblical-knowledge-dominance."), I was told, "I quote so that it's not my words, but what is written." And that is exactly what bugs me.

The Bible, as I reminded my homophobic Facebook friends, was not written in modern-day English, but in Ancient Greek. We only read what someone else says someone else said happened. Try reading some Shakespeare and then tell me how clear everything is. It's not, and that's the same language and much more recent. It is an old, changed language with plenty of slang we're not so sure about. I love my Bible, and I am fully in favour of more people reading and studying it, but just because one guy decided to translate one Greek word as "homosexual" (despite there not being any word in Ancient Greek which expresses homosexuality as understood today) while most other versions have something else doesn't mean that God really meant "homosexual" there. We don't know for sure, and so we have to check our own conscious to figure out what matches up.

And remember, as Abraham Lincoln once said, ‎"People often misattribute quotes on the Internet."

How I Read the Bible: Genesis 1

"In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." That's how it all begins, and so that's where I'm starting. Every Wednesday, I am going to take a look at a portion of this crazy book called the Bible, starting with the very first of the creation stories it contains. I am no Biblical expert, nor do I think I have some kind of special (divine) knowledge everyone else is lacking. I don't even know Greek, Hebrew, or Aramaic. I present only one opinion on what may be the world's most controversial book and share my own journey. As we go, I'll be using the Revised Standard Version and cross-referencing other versions as well. With all that said, let's begin.

Genesis 1. Right here, on page one, we get the very first story of creation, the most famous of all creation stories. Now, I love creation stories, and I've read all kinds of different ones, but this is one of my favourite. Every time God makes something, God looks at it—God sees it!—and finds it to be good. God is an artist, and an artist who actually likes their work! When I read this, I see a mystical forming of the world like a vague picture slowly becoming clearer and clearer. I get to watch God's brush strokes.

I hear a lot of arguments about the creation story, and I've never understood them. Those who argue that it is a literal, factual story which disproves evolution seem to have missed the poetry, and those who argue that its factually erroneous account of things that happened long before humanity even existed disprove the Bible's usefulness also seemed to have missed something crucial.

"And God saw that it was good." I read this very first (in the Bible) creation story, and what I read is a story about an artist, a creator, which loves its work. As an artist, I find it hard to like, let alone love, most everything I make. I get annoyed, emotional, moody, upset because what I made is imperfect. And then here's this artist, this creator, who looks at all of creation and says, "Hey, I like that!" I read this story, and I want to be like God.

I also see here something profoundly human: the desire to understand the hows and whys of existence. Cultures from every corner of the world had their own creation stories, all attempts at understanding the world in which they lived, and the Israelite people were no different. The Bible, from the very first page, recounts for me one culture's journey toward greater knowledge and understanding of the world. There is a hunger to understand and make sense of the unknowable here, and it is a universal hunger, a hunger to which I can relate, to which we all can relate.

Maybe I'm supposed to think the Bible is the perfect, infallible Word of God and to treat it like a book of law and scientific and historical fact, but why would I even want to read that? The Bible is an invitation to think and consider, an invitation to engage, and that's what compels me to read it. It connects me to people who lived in a far away land a very long time ago, and it connects me to people who are alive today in my very own hometown. And, somewhere along the line, the Bible connects me to "God," whoever and whatever God is. I am no Biblical expert, but neither were the writers of the Bible.

Not By the Sword

I cannot rejoice in the murder of Osama bin Laden. Mourning, however, is not an easy reaction. I would love to feel the joy. And, in fact, I almost could. It wouldn't take much for me to change my stance and rejoice. It's the easy choice. So why not choose it? Why not do what is easy? Why put myself through this misery and sorrow and bitterness when jubilation and triumph is just as readily available right now? Why choose to suffer?

I chose to struggle and to wrestle with my own beliefs, rather than give into fleeting joy. It was a choice made easier by others around me making the same choice. That's what church is for me: a community of people who will struggle and wrestle alongside me. So I went to church today to try to deal with all of the confusing emotions that have come as a result of the murder of Osama bin Laden.

I have reason to rejoice, and it has nothing to do with Osama bin Laden. I can rejoice in the knowledge that, in spite of all of the hurt and pain in this world, in spite of death even, love can, will, and does conquer. Something inexplicable happened 2,000 years ago when a man preached about love so great that it conquers even death. It's not about the science or the factual details; something incredible happened. Jesus willingly walked to his death, his love infinitely greater than his fear of death, and in that loving act, he saved us all from death too. Forget the science; the story of Jesus is about the potential of humanity for inexplicable goodness and love in the face of our hatred and fear.

I do not rejoice in death, and yet I do not need to mourn either, for there is something infinitely stronger than death, and that is love. As cheesy and clichéd as it sounds, I believe with all my heart and all my soul and all my strength. We are to love our enemies, not for their sake, but for our own, for what will it do to our own souls if we are to take pleasure in the destruction of another?

Osama bin Laden lived by the sword, and thus died by the sword; let us not do the same. Let us strive to do the uncomfortable and even painful work of making room in our hearts for compassion, love, and forgiveness, like Jesus did, like the Nickel Mines Amish community did, like Ghandi and King and Harry Potter and so many others did.

UPDATE: And here is a statement by All Saints Church regarding all of this.

Osama bin Laden

Osama bin Laden is dead, and I feel sick. My Facebook News Feed is flooded with jubilation and celebration of murder.

Three specific events in my life were brought vividly to mind again tonight: the first destructive fire I ever witnessed, the collapse of the ceilings in my house, and the fire and collapse that resulted from hijacked planes crashing into the Twin Towers.

I assume I was pretty young when I witnessed that first destructive fire. It was a pumpkin patch. Everything was ablaze, and it horrified me. My dreams turned to blazing nightmares after that. I could not escape the fear that my house might, too, become engulfed in flames. I still fear fires. Every time I see black smoke rising into the sky, I feel that terrified young child crying inside me. I cried a lot.

The ceiling first fell above my parents' bed at 5AM. It was June, our roof was off for construction, and it had unexpectedly started raining. So my parents were up all night mopping and dealing with leaks everywhere. Once the ceiling fell, they woke my sister and I up and had us both move to the bottom bunk of our bunk bed. The ceiling above our bed fell just after we had gone to school. I was probably around six-years-old.

Nearly ten years ago, I was once again awoken to witness a building collapse, but this one was also on fire. I remember staring at the television screen in horror. I remember watching the second plane crash into the second tower. I remember all of the images, the stories, the terrifying reality my nine-year-old mind could not comprehend. I remember the rumours that L. A., my home, would be next. I remember the language of fear and hate which filled every mouth.

The "terrorist attacks" on 11 September, 2001 were everything I could barely even dream of fearing made real. The days that followed are a blurry haze. My teachers all struggled and failed to help me and my classmates make sense of all of it. It didn't make sense. How could anyone hate so much? I met hate for the first time the day those towers collapsed.

Osama bin Laden is dead, and I feel nothing but that same empty, meaningless haze that surrounded me ten years ago. A man has been murdered, and people have taken to the streets to rejoice. Blood has been shed once again. I don't know how to process this. I want to know that bin Laden wasn't actually human, so I could feel relief, but relief doesn't come. I want to know that this is the end, the conclusion, of the horror we witnessed ten years ago, but no idea has died today, only a man. And more than anything, I just want to know that there is another solution, a solution that does not require bloodshed. I want to know that peace and love really can win, and I want to know that I am not the only one foolish enough to feel empty rather than joyous.