My introduction with the Occupy movement came when I picked up my copy of Adbusters and saw an ad:
It was pretty striking and I remember thinking that I wished I lived in New York City. Fast forward a week and a half and there I was, marching with Occupy San Francisco and attending General Assembly on Day 1 of Occupying in front of the Federal Reserve on September 29, 2011.
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| Occupy SF Chefs! Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
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| Day 1 Occupy SF at the Federal Reserve Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
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| Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
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| Cooking Dinner Day 1 Occupy SF in front of the Federal Reserve Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
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| Day 1 Occupy SF General Assembly Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
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| Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
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| Photo: Suzi Spangenberb |
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| Day 2 at Occupy SF found the city trying to spray the Occupiers away. Instead, they decided to enjoy the free shower. Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
While working with Occupy SF, I helped organize a street medic training that was very well attended
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| Street Medic Training Occupy SF Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
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| Jason Odhner, RN, Street Medic, Quaker Badass Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
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| With SKSM Student Body Co-President Emily Hartnett Webb Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
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| Day 1 Occupy Oakland October 10, 2011 Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
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| Crowd at Day 1 of Occupy Oakland October 10, 2011 Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
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| Crowd at Day 1 of Occupy Oakland October 10, 2011 Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
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| Speaker at Day 1 of Occupy Oakland October 10, 2011 Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
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| Union Rep Day 1 Occupy Oakland Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
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| Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
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| Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
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| Jason Odhner and Suzi Spangenberg at Day 1 of Occupy Oakland October 10, 2011 Photo: Unnamed Occupier |
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| The first tents go up at Occupy Oakland October 10, 2011 Photo: Suzi Spangenberg |
As the members of Occupy struggled with issues of racism, I found myself addressing the subject in one of my papers for my Howard Thurman class at SKSM. Here it is:
The Luminous Darkness
I’m
stirred up. I admit it. I have so much whirling around in my
head that I’m not sure I will be capable of writing a coherent paper. So much of the book resonated with my
life right now. I don’t know how
to choose any one aspect to focus on.
It feels as if I would be saying that one was more important than the
other. I will attempt to
pull it all together, but if I fail, forgive me.
I have
been thinking a lot about the state murder of Troy Davis – executed for murder
in spite of there being no physical evidence linking him to the crime. I contrast that with the sentence of
PFC Andrew Holmes, a white man, who was sentenced to seven years in prison for
the thrill killing of a child and two men in Afghanistan. While this case has
received some publicity, it is only one of thousands of incidents of white
American soldiers murdering people of color for sport. Holmes shot the child from 15 feet away
and posed for photos with the body, crudely holding the child’s head up by his
hair.[1] He carried the severed finger of the
child around with him as a trophy.
He will be eligible for parole as early as one year from now.
Notice I
keep saying “the child’. That is
because mainstream media sources did not name the names of those murdered. I had to dig to find it. Gul Mudim.[2] I wonder if there would have been more
attempts to identify Gul Mudim and the two unidentified men had they been
white? It does not
escape me that the lack of a name dehumanizes a person.
We choose
to start wars in countries populated by people of color. We have been responsible for the deaths
of tens of thousands of innocent people, all unidentified by our media. Yet they all have names, families and
people who grieve them.
Dehumanizing murder victims allows us to feel that their deaths are less
meaningful than the named and identified American soldiers who have died as the
result of war. Thurman spoke to this when he spoke of the black man who had no
name:
“As
ironical as this is, nevertheless, the national registration during the last
World War made an important impact on the life of negroes, particularly in the
South. A man who had been called
“J.B.” all his life and who knew no other name had to make a name for himself
out of his initials. Think of what
it meant to this man who had been regarded by his society as without name or
significance to find himself suddenly on the receiving end of personal attention
from the vast federal government.”[3]
I am aware
that there has been an outcry about the lack of attention paid to the officer
murdered in the Troy Davis case.
His name was Mark MacPhail and my heart goes out to his family and
friends. His murder should not be
forgotten as we advocate for justice. One must also wonder had MacPhail been black, or had
he not been a police officer, would Davis have been charged let alone convicted
and executed?
The
disparities in justice that Thurman identified in 1963[4]
still exist today. In nearly 50
years not much has changed in our criminal justice system other than more
people of color are locked up.
It is my hope that Davis’ death will be the catalyst to bring about
change we so desperately need. It
is my hope that our communities of faith will be in the forefront of demanding
that change. It is my hope, but it
is one that I question will come to fruition. I am not alone in wondering why I am experiencing more commitment
in the secular community to this cause than in my faith community.
Thurman
addressed this disparity as well.
“Why is it
that in many aspects of life that are regarded as secular one is apt to see
more sharing, more of a tendency for human beings to experience themselves as
human beings, than in those areas that are recognized as being religious? There seems to be more of a striving
toward equality of treatment in many so-called secular institutions in our
society than has characterized those institutions whose formal religious
commitment demands that they practice the art of brotherhood.”[5]
A close
friend and fellow UU has been struggling with these issues. She and I have engaged in deep
conversations. I, too, have
struggled with this same issue. On
the one hand I am enough of a realist to understand that institutional change
is slow. On the other, I share her
frustration for I experience firsthand the commitment of those in the secular
community while my faith community rarely show up to do the work. I encouraged my friend to blog about
her feelings and she did[6]. She courageously wrote of her
frustration and anger and also called me out on my apparent acceptance of slow
institutional change. What I
didn’t share with her, and perhaps should have, were my own frustrations
surrounding these same issues.
I rarely
see UU’s at any social justice action I attend in the Bay Area and even more
rarely my fellow seminarians. With
social justice at the core of our UU principles, this continues to perplex me. As a seminarian committed to social
justice community ministry, I am well aware of the need for more active
commitment for social justice causes from congregations. I am also aware that institutionally,
we have huge opportunities for growth in this area. This is frustrating and I am also aware of the political
ramifications should I voice my frustration too loudly.
We are
primarily a faith of white, privileged people and we have the capacity to put
our privilege and our money toward creating the kind of world our UU principles
uphold us to do. Yet we do not
stretch ourselves as fully as we could. We continue to wonder why few people of color walk
through our doors when we’ve left them open and have proclaimed ourselves to be
welcoming. The question is whether
we are willing to walk our talk and put ourselves on the line for our
principles and the beliefs that we profess to be committed to. Once we embody our talk, I believe we
will see the kind of diversity in our congregations we claim we want to see. Until then, we continue to be complicit
in accepting segregation.
“But whether
the acceptance is deliberate or indifferent, he becomes a party to a monstrous
evil executed in his name and maintained in his behaf. The responsibility for the social decay
and defiling of spirit is inescapable, acknowledged or unacknowledged. For segregation is a sickness and no
one who lives in its reach can claim or expect immunity.” [7]
[1] http://blogs.seattleweekly.com/dailyweekly/2011/09/pfc_andrew_holmes_member_of_fo.php
[2] http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/news/the-kill-team-20110327
[3] Thurman, H.
The Luminous Darkness p. 97
[4] ibid p. 87
[5] ibid p. 108
[6] http://curlykidz.wordpress.com/
September 18, 2011
[7] ibid p. 64