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Just as I Am by Cicely Tyson
Cicely Tyson’s book, Just as I Am, represents her final words to the world and her fans, her closing act. Cicely Tyson died January 28, 2021, at 96 years old. She died the same year her book was published. So it is her finale–her tribute. I am happy that she was able to narrate and take control of her parting story and message. So often, Black women, particularly high visibility Black women, are not in charge of nor are they able to control what is said about them, nor are they able to proclaim who they are. This book accomplishes that for Cicely Tyson.
We all hope to leave our mark on the world, a legacy that proclaims our unique existence. Cicely Tyson’s book chronicles her triumphs as an actress and human being, as well as the challenges in her life. We have the master storyteller sharing a rare window into her life. She tells all, beginning with her humble childhood, a scrawny child born with a heart murmur. Her parents were told she would probably not live three months. She writes freely about the difficult relationship she and her mother shared, her devout love for her father, her parents’ divorce, her siblings, and extended family, and everything in between.
At six months of age, a kindly Jewish woman approached Cicely’s mother and leaned into the carriage where little Cicely lay nestled. The stranger spoke these words: “Take care of that child. She has a sixth sense. She’s going to make you very proud one day–and she’s going to take care of you in your old age.” And then she proceeded to walk away.[1] More prophetic words could not have been uttered.
Mad At Miles
My primary reason for reading Tyson’s book was to gain some insight as to how she understood and dealt with the abusive relationship that she was in with Miles Davis. I wanted to explore how they got together and the nature of that mismatch. As a survivor of child abuse, domestic and sexual violence I wanted to better understand the choices Tyson had made about her relationship with Davis. She clearly knew how to select films where she embodied her strong characters’ stories, that captured profound social statements championing empowered women, their trials and struggles in the face of adversity. She had the ability to possess our hearts and emotions. I saw in Tyson a brilliant woman that became prisoner in what started out as a loving relationship and eventually became abusive. In some ways I saw myself in her.
I was curious to see if she would address her own abuse in her book. It had been rumored over the years that Miles Davis was abusive to Cicely Tyson. But it was not until poet and playwright Pearl Cleage dedicated a collection of poems titled, Mad at Miles: A Black Woman’s Guide to Truth, that it became real and no longer a rumor. Cleage wrote about her own decision to put away Miles Davis’ music, her LPs that she loved, and to speak out against his violent abuse of Tyson. Cleage reminded readers that her actions should not be labelled “man bashing” but instead, love. While her small and provocative book was published in 1990 it is equally relevant today.
Tyson, to her credit, holds nothing back. She brings the reader into her tumultuous relationship with Davis and his struggles with his drug addiction. Tyson’s celebrity status, money, and powerful ties are not enough to save her from the tragedy of her abusive relationship. Like many victims of domestic violence Tyson left and returned to the relationship, probably hoping Davis would change. Perhaps she even believed she could change him as many battered women erroneously assume. Some sources assert that it takes a battered woman an average of six times before they successfully leave their abusive relationship. I did not attempt to count the number of times Tyson left and returned, even eventually marrying Davis. My focus on Tyson’s actions is, in no way victim blaming, it is a reminder that a woman’s social economic status does not protect her from abuse. A woman’s brilliance and stable career do not protect them.
Too often we ask the wrong question. Instead of asking why she stays (or returns) we should ask, “why does he batter?” Having worked as an advocate to address intimate partner violence for over twenty-five years remnants of my internalized oppression still cause me to examine what I did to end up in abusive relationships and what I could have done differently. So often battered women question the choices they made. And that is important. But it should not take away the batterer’s responsibility for the violence.
If I am guilty of scrutinizing Tyson’s actions with all my experience as an advocate, then imagine the average woman (and man) that is critical of the woman rather than focusing on the man’s behavior and society’s justification of men’s behavior. “She should have known better;” “She must like it or she would leave.” Miles Davis possessed two demons–his violent behavior and his substance abuse. Too often we feel if the man gets help for his substance abuse he will cease his abuse. They are two separate issues.
For all Tyson’s reflections about her relationship with Miles Davis, the one comment she wrote that was most telling was, “…[O]nce Miles stumbled back into my world, I learned just how much of a father wound I was still carrying.”[2] To be clear, Tyson may have had daddy issues but that does not justify or explain away Miles Davis’ violence.
Internalized Oppression
Tyson made two statements in her book that provide a glimpse into the troubling racism and colorism that contribute to the self-hatred which begins for many little Black girls at a very early age:
“…No one had to tell me that the fairer your skin and the narrower your nose and lips, the more stunning you were considered…Caucasian women were upheld as the standard of beauty while our features were denigrated…Black hair was portrayed as unkept, a crop of wild irascible wool that required taming…”[3]
“In the life of every Black child, a moment arrives when he or she becomes wrenchingly aware of how we are perceived.”[4]
And yet, when little Black girls have examples of brilliant Black women it can plant the seeds of greatness and possibility in them. Viola Davis, iconic actress in her own right, penned the forewords to Cicely Tyson’s book and her reflections of when she saw Tyson for the first time as a child on TV:
“… [the] TV that rested upon another broken one, a set with aluminum foil on its antennae for better reception…I can pinpoint the exact moment when my life opened up…It planted in me a seed that immediately took root…She was the manifestation of excellence and artistry, a dark-skinned, thick-lipped woman who truly mirrored me…With one mesmerizing performance, with one gorgeously poignant rendering of her character, Ms. Tyson gave me permission to dream.”[5]
Tyson was a brilliant and complicated human. She demonstrated her brilliance in her star- studded portfolio with films that have brought so much joy to so many. And she is brave enough to allow her readers to accompany her as she reveals her life for all to see. The only place Tyson appeared to tread lightly was her relationship with her daughter, Joan. However, her sparse but poignantly penned words convey volumes, “Joan and I continue to work on our relationship, as fragile as it is precious, and even as I write of her in my story, I leave space for her to one day share her own.” Just as Tyson wanted to be the narrator of her journey, she also reserved the right for her daughter to speak her truth and tell her story.
Cicely Tyson, you paved the way for those behind you. Your shoulders are the strong shoulders that so many drawn to theater have stood on. You portrayed the struggles of Black women with such grace and dignity. You made Black beautiful. You elevated our struggles with your screen presence. We proudly embrace you! You shaped the course of history and you have left the world more beautiful and richer by your presence. Well done, my sister. Well done, thy good and faithful Queen Mother. You lived a full life with the many ups and downs of a Black woman in America. You invited us into your life with the same raw truth and energy portrayed in the characters you embodied.
Tyson’s book is over 400 pages long and two inches thick. It is worthy of your time! Grab your favorite lounging spot, beverage and snacks and let her seduce you one final time, drawing you in to her complicated, messy, heroic and real world.
— Reviewed by Rev. Dr. Qiyamah A. Rahman
• • •
[1] Cicely Tyson. Just as I Am. New York: HarperCollins Publishers. 2021. 10.
[2] Cicely Tyson. Just as I Am. New York: HarperCollins Publishers. 2021. 265.
[3] Cicely Tyson. Just as I Am. New York: HarperCollins Publishers. 2021. 23.
[4] Cicely Tyson. Just as I Am. New York: HarperCollins Publishers. 2021. 24.
[5] Cicely Tyson. Just as I Am. New York: HarperCollins Publishers. 2021. viii.
King Leopold’s Ghost: A Story of Greed, Terror, and Heroism in Colonial Africa by Adam Hochschild
Cicely Tyson’s book, Just as I Am, represents her final words to the world and her fans, her closing act. Cicely Tyson died January 28, 2021, at 96 years old. She died the same year her book was published. So it is her finale–her tribute. I am happy that she was able to narrate and take control of her parting story and message. So often, Black women, particularly high visibility Black women, are not in charge of nor are they able to control what is said about them, nor are they able to proclaim who they are. This book accomplishes that for Cicely Tyson.
We all hope to leave our mark on the world, a legacy that proclaims our unique existence. Cicely Tyson’s book chronicles her triumphs as an actress and human being, as well as the challenges in her life. We have the master storyteller sharing a rare window into her life. She tells all, beginning with her humble childhood, a scrawny child born with a heart murmur. Her parents were told she would probably not live three months. She writes freely about the difficult relationship she and her mother shared, her devout love for her father, her parents’ divorce, her siblings, and extended family, and everything in between.
At six months of age, a kindly Jewish woman approached Cicely’s mother and leaned into the carriage where little Cicely lay nestled. The stranger spoke these words: “Take care of that child. She has a sixth sense. She’s going to make you very proud one day–and she’s going to take care of you in your old age.” And then she proceeded to walk away.[1] More prophetic words could not have been uttered.
Mad At Miles
My primary reason for reading Tyson’s book was to gain some insight as to how she understood and dealt with the abusive relationship that she was in with Miles Davis. I wanted to explore how they got together and the nature of that mismatch. As a survivor of child abuse, domestic and sexual violence I wanted to better understand the choices Tyson had made about her relationship with Davis. She clearly knew how to select films where she embodied her strong characters’ stories, that captured profound social statements championing empowered women, their trials and struggles in the face of adversity. She had the ability to possess our hearts and emotions. I saw in Tyson a brilliant woman that became prisoner in what started out as a loving relationship and eventually became abusive. In some ways I saw myself in her.
I was curious to see if she would address her own abuse in her book. It had been rumored over the years that Miles Davis was abusive to Cicely Tyson. But it was not until poet and playwright Pearl Cleage dedicated a collection of poems titled, Mad at Miles: A Black Woman’s Guide to Truth, that it became real and no longer a rumor. Cleage wrote about her own decision to put away Miles Davis’ music, her LPs that she loved, and to speak out against his violent abuse of Tyson. Cleage reminded readers that her actions should not be labelled “man bashing” but instead, love. While her small and provocative book was published in 1990 it is equally relevant today.
Tyson, to her credit, holds nothing back. She brings the reader into her tumultuous relationship with Davis and his struggles with his drug addiction. Tyson’s celebrity status, money, and powerful ties are not enough to save her from the tragedy of her abusive relationship. Like many victims of domestic violence Tyson left and returned to the relationship, probably hoping Davis would change. Perhaps she even believed she could change him as many battered women erroneously assume. Some sources assert that it takes a battered woman an average of six times before they successfully leave their abusive relationship. I did not attempt to count the number of times Tyson left and returned, even eventually marrying Davis. My focus on Tyson’s actions is, in no way victim blaming, it is a reminder that a woman’s social economic status does not protect her from abuse. A woman’s brilliance and stable career do not protect them.
Too often we ask the wrong question. Instead of asking why she stays (or returns) we should ask, “why does he batter?” Having worked as an advocate to address intimate partner violence for over twenty-five years remnants of my internalized oppression still cause me to examine what I did to end up in abusive relationships and what I could have done differently. So often battered women question the choices they made. And that is important. But it should not take away the batterer’s responsibility for the violence.
If I am guilty of scrutinizing Tyson’s actions with all my experience as an advocate, then imagine the average woman (and man) that is critical of the woman rather than focusing on the man’s behavior and society’s justification of men’s behavior. “She should have known better;” “She must like it or she would leave.” Miles Davis possessed two demons–his violent behavior and his substance abuse. Too often we feel if the man gets help for his substance abuse he will cease his abuse. They are two separate issues.
For all Tyson’s reflections about her relationship with Miles Davis, the one comment she wrote that was most telling was, “…[O]nce Miles stumbled back into my world, I learned just how much of a father wound I was still carrying.”[2] To be clear, Tyson may have had daddy issues but that does not justify or explain away Miles Davis’ violence.
Internalized Oppression
Tyson made two statements in her book that provide a glimpse into the troubling racism and colorism that contribute to the self-hatred which begins for many little Black girls at a very early age:
“…No one had to tell me that the fairer your skin and the narrower your nose and lips, the more stunning you were considered…Caucasian women were upheld as the standard of beauty while our features were denigrated…Black hair was portrayed as unkept, a crop of wild irascible wool that required taming…”[3]
“In the life of every Black child, a moment arrives when he or she becomes wrenchingly aware of how we are perceived.”[4]
And yet, when little Black girls have examples of brilliant Black women it can plant the seeds of greatness and possibility in them. Viola Davis, iconic actress in her own right, penned the forewords to Cicely Tyson’s book and her reflections of when she saw Tyson for the first time as a child on TV:
“… [the] TV that rested upon another broken one, a set with aluminum foil on its antennae for better reception…I can pinpoint the exact moment when my life opened up…It planted in me a seed that immediately took root…She was the manifestation of excellence and artistry, a dark-skinned, thick-lipped woman who truly mirrored me…With one mesmerizing performance, with one gorgeously poignant rendering of her character, Ms. Tyson gave me permission to dream.”[5]
Tyson was a brilliant and complicated human. She demonstrated her brilliance in her star- studded portfolio with films that have brought so much joy to so many. And she is brave enough to allow her readers to accompany her as she reveals her life for all to see. The only place Tyson appeared to tread lightly was her relationship with her daughter, Joan. However, her sparse but poignantly penned words convey volumes, “Joan and I continue to work on our relationship, as fragile as it is precious, and even as I write of her in my story, I leave space for her to one day share her own.” Just as Tyson wanted to be the narrator of her journey, she also reserved the right for her daughter to speak her truth and tell her story.
Cicely Tyson, you paved the way for those behind you. Your shoulders are the strong shoulders that so many drawn to theater have stood on. You portrayed the struggles of Black women with such grace and dignity. You made Black beautiful. You elevated our struggles with your screen presence. We proudly embrace you! You shaped the course of history and you have left the world more beautiful and richer by your presence. Well done, my sister. Well done, thy good and faithful Queen Mother. You lived a full life with the many ups and downs of a Black woman in America. You invited us into your life with the same raw truth and energy portrayed in the characters you embodied.
Tyson’s book is over 400 pages long and two inches thick. It is worthy of your time! Grab your favorite lounging spot, beverage and snacks and let her seduce you one final time, drawing you in to her complicated, messy, heroic and real world.
— Reviewed by Rev. Dr. Qiyamah A. Rahman
• • •
[1] Cicely Tyson. Just as I Am. New York: HarperCollins Publishers. 2021. 10.
[2] Cicely Tyson. Just as I Am. New York: HarperCollins Publishers. 2021. 265.
[3] Cicely Tyson. Just as I Am. New York: HarperCollins Publishers. 2021. 23.
[4] Cicely Tyson. Just as I Am. New York: HarperCollins Publishers. 2021. 24.
[5] Cicely Tyson. Just as I Am. New York: HarperCollins Publishers. 2021. viii.
Black UU Survival Guide
After reading Reverend Xolani Kacela’s book, The Black UU Survival Guide: 10 Steps for Surviving as a Black Unitarian Universalist and How Allies Can Keep It 100, I recommend that it should be included in every Unitarian Universalist (UU) congregation’s New Member Orientation or at least on a recommended reading list. It is an invaluable resource for not only new Black UUs , but BIPOCs in general and also for allies desiring to support Black UUs.
The book is short, seventy-one pages, however, the brevity works. As a writer myself, I know that length is not an indication of time and energy expended. Sometimes the shorter the reflections the greater the effort. When we as writers do not have space to pontificate and wax at length, that is when we are challenged to dig deep and write with inspiration and deep courage.
I suspect the book will inspire readers to check out Kacela’s other writings and publications. Kacela’s writing style works for this particular endeavor. I would describe his writing as “user friendly and straight forward.” His words are like a mentor instructing a mentee. Kacela cuts to the chase and he tells it like it is with no holds barred. True to his title, Rev. Kacela keeps it 100, that is, real and authentic in The Black UU Survival Guide: 10 Steps for Surviving as a Black Unitarian Universalist and How Allies Can Keep It 100.
In this succinct and well-organized handbook, Reverend Kacela accomplishes his self-proclaimed goal, “I hope to make the way easier for others coming up in the community.” It is clear that Rev. Kacela has been astutely paying attention, reflecting, asking questions and analyzing his observations, first as a Black UU member and later as a minister.
Kudos to him for his astute recognition that such a guide was needed in our sea of white UU faces and culture. And like the visionary prophetic individual that he is, he stepped into the gap and wrestled with the challenge of telling a story that is his individually, but also reflects the experiences and challenges of so many other Black UUs. I predict this handbook will become an invaluable resource for Black people coming into UUism as well as those senior UUs, like myself, that have languished in the vineyard of UUism over the years. My thirty years confirm Reverend Kacela’s reflections. I had many moments of yes, amen! And a few, oh, that is a truth I had not thought about. The book prompted a deep resonance in my reading of it. And I predict it will inspire numerous and compelling YESSSSSes among other Black UUs!
Jesse King, the first Black Chair of the Unitarian Universalist Ministerial Fellowship Committee (MFC) states, “I wish this book had been available when I returned to the UU church as an adult.” King sums up the value of the handbook with these heartfelt words, “Reverend Kacela provides useful tools and tactics for navigating the cultural minefield. If you are white, the book provides instructive, sobering strategies to create a culture of belong.”
I recommend that the MFC consider adding this handbook to their recommended list for Anti-racism, Anti-oppression and Multiculturalism readings. I know that the journeys of Black UUs has been affirmed and made visible because of Rev. Xolani Kacela’s dedication and sacrifice of time and energy.
Reverend Kacela, you done good!
— Reviewed by Rev. Dr. Qiyamah A. Rahman
Various books by and about Rosa Parks
I am presently reading several books written by different authors about the life of Rosa Parks. Meanwhile, a group of Tennessee parents have filed a complaint about another book titled, Ruby Bridges Goes to School. If you recall, Ruby Bridges is the little six-year-old black girl who integrated her New Orleans elementary school in 1960. She walked daily through angry white crowds that threatened to poison her and lynch her. Once they even held up a small casket with a black doll inside which had to be both puzzling and frightening to a six-year-old who just wanted to go to school like other six-year-olds.
In 2020 in Pennsylvania the Central York School District banned a list of books including, I Am Rosa Parks, a primer written by Brad Meltzer. Leonard Pitts Jr., Miami Herald columnist, reminds us that one of the first acts of the Nazi regime was to burn 25,000 books. Pitts states the following:
“Those who ban and burn books seek to ban and burn the courage it takes to grapple with that which might leave you challenged or changed. They fight for ignorance. So, it’s easy to see why they consider books dangerous. If you’re not careful with them, you just might learn something.”
Rosa Parks: My Story by Rosa Parks with Jim Haskins
This book, published in 1992 is 192 pages. It is the adult version of Parks’ book, I Am Rosa Parks. While it lacks the colorful pictures the children’s version has, it has several black-and-white pictures. It is an invaluable account of Rosa Parks’ life told in her own words. The book contains a chronology that captures all the major events in Rosa Parks’ iconic life.
The Rebellious Life of Mrs. Rosa Parks (Adapted for Young People) by Jeanne Theoharis and Brandy Colbert
This account of Rosa Parks’ life is part of the “revisioning history for young people series.” The series includes a queer history of the United States for young people by Michael Bronski and an indigenous peoples’ history of the United States for young people by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz. The 296 pages are filled with carefully researched information about Rosa Parks’ life. The publisher is our own Beacon Press, the UUA-owned publishing company. If the authors were not impressive enough, the testimonials include two of Black America’s high-profile activists, Dr. Melissa Harris-Perry (who is a UU) and Bryan Stevenson, author of Just Mercy. Both individuals are past Ware Lecturers at Unitarian Universalist General Assembly.
At the Dark End of the Street: Black Women, Rape, and Resistance – a New History of the Civil Rights Movement from Rosa Parks to the Rise of Black Power by Danielle L. McGuire
Author, Danielle L. McGuire’s account of Rosa Parks’ life depicts the little-known role Parks played in investigating sexual assaults of Black women in the south. McGuire documents and exposes the long history of sexual violence against Black women with a focus on two cases that received national attention, Recy Taylor and Joan Little.
Rosa Parks was contacted a few days after the NAACP received a call in its Montgomery, Alabama branch office. They assigned and sent their best investigator, Parks, to meet with Recy Taylor. On the night of September 3, 1944, Recy Taylor had been abducted and raped by a gang of white males while returning from church with a friend and the friend’s son.
Parks’ investigation helped form the committee for equal justice and according to McGuire, “that investigation would launch a movement that would ultimately change the world.”[1] Eleven years later the organization leaders evolved into the Montgomery Improvement Association.
— Reviewed by Rev. Dr. Qiyamah A. Rahman
Resources
Websites for teaching and learning about Rosa Parks
-
zinnedproject.org/rosa-parks-lesson – a lesson in the form of a mixer activity introduces students to the experiences and political work of Rosa Parks
-
beacon.org/rosaparksguide – a teachers’ guide helps educators to utilize Parks’ full history in the classroom
• • •
[1] Danielle L. McGuire. At the Dark End of the Street. New York: Vintage Books. 2010. xvii.
The Darkness Divine: A Loving Challenge to My Faith by Rev. Dr. Kristen L. Harper
The Darkness Divine: A Loving Challenge to My Faith by Rev. Dr. Kristen L. Harper is a June 2021 publication by Skinner House Books. Not every writer possesses the ability to effortlessly move between genres. Harper reveals in her introduction, “I have been writing poetry for most of my life.” She demonstrates her mastery of prose and poetry in the 126 pages that include questions after each section. She skillfully takes the reader into some hard places and topics, and with equal aplomb delivers riveting poetry that reinforces her powerful prose. She does not avoid tough subjects like internalized oppression. In her poem titled, “The Greatest Trick: Internalized Oppression,” she opens with the question, “How did you manage to convince so many of us that we were less than?” The poem concludes with images of a people that “no longer bow” but “own who we are, beautiful, powerful, intelligent, worthy, fully human and completely precious.”
Harper names “the harm that white culture has perpetrated on Black and Brown communities” and questions how to convey this history to her young niece without wounding her. Every BIPOC mother grapples with these issues of finding balance between harsh reality and holding a hopeful vision of wholeness for their children.
Harper, a bi-racial woman, uses the pronouns she/her and is intimately familiar with the concepts she writes about. While her adoptive white mother exposed her to the admirable qualities of Black women and men, she witnessed, read about, and experienced racism – racism that was not always expressed by non-UUs. Harper is not hesitant to speak truthfully about the incidents she encountered in seminary and from ministerial colleagues. She graduated from Meadville Lombard Theological Seminary, earning a doctor of ministry degree in 1999. She was among the early Black UU clergy women to enter ministry, and the second Black woman to be called to a UU congregation as sole minister. The road to ministry was not easy for her and other Black UU clergy women. She is among those whose shoulders Black clergy women stand on, and we walk a path forged by her and others like her. In her acknowledgments she honors them thusly:
“For all the women pioneers to whom I owe so much: Dianne Arakawa, Yvonne Seon, Adele Smith-Penniman, Shuma Chakravarty, Michelle W. Bentley, Patricia Jimenez, Toni Vincent, Marjorie Bowens-Wheatley, Alma Faith Crawford and Danielle Di Bona.”
White UUs who have grown tired of efforts to decenter whiteness and to dismantle white supremacy should read Harper’s book. Her stories painfully remind us that not very long ago, individuals training for the ministry acted on their racist beliefs, and congregants behaved badly towards Harper and other Black UU clergy women.
The jacket of Harper’s book reveals not only what to expect, but how she does what she does, “(Harper) confronts and unpacks the language, imagery, buzzwords and cultural touch stones that demean and dehumanize Black people … Harper lifts up the strength, beauty and resilience of Black people and outlines a path forward.”
The Darkness Divine embodies the tradition of resistance literature from Frances Ellen Watkins Harper to Been in the Storm So Long, a meditation manual of BIPOC voices. Harper’s work lends itself to the cacophony of voices that lovingly and achingly spit truth into the abyss of racial injustice that so often threatens to overpower the joy and celebration that Black women experience. It is in that in-between of the agonies of a faith tradition that is just learning how to love and appreciate Black UU women and girls that we are holding space. Harper’s The Darkness Divine stands front and center in the small but growing body of works by Black UU women.
What a joy to receive her publication and to welcome her presence in this wilderness journey of Unitarian Universalist Black women authors.
— Reviewed by Rev. Dr. Qiyamah A. Rahman
The Space Between Us
The author, Feminista Jones, adopted her name in homage to Cleopatra Jones, the female character in Black exploitation movies portrayed as a “hard-hitting-no-nonsense” ass kicking-karate-chopping-take-care-of-business Black woman. The real life Feminista Jones is a Philadelphia-based social worker, feminist writer, public speaker and community activist named one of the 100 Most Influential People in Philadelphia and one of the Top 100 Black Social Influencers by The Root. She has been featured in the New York Times, Washington Post, Time, Essence and Ebony magazines.
Her book, Reclaiming Our Space: How Black Feminists are Changing the World from the Tweets to the Streets explores how Black women are engaging social media to effect change and to heighten the exposure of feminist thinking and practice. Black women’s use of social media has created iconic hashtags like #BlkLivesMatter, #SayHerName and #BlkGirlMagic. It appears that academia and educational institutions are no longer the primary avenues for introducing and discussing Black feminism. Instead, online dialogues facilitate and complement traditional contexts such as kitchen table talks, salons, forums, conferences and other face-to-face settings (pre-digital formats). Jones comments on social media’s exposure of Black women to Black feminism, “The ways in which knowledge is created and shared has transformed in large part due to the explosion of digital media, and Black women have been trailblazers in this new digital landscape.”[1]
Among the two dozen hashtags highlighted in a 2016 article as influential in shaping feminist discussion, ten were created by Black women according to Jones.[2] Furthermore, Jones notes that #BlackLivesMatter was popularized and grew into a global movement by three Black activist women, Patrisse Cullors, Alicia Garza and Opal Tometi.[3]
Still another example of the power of hashtag feminism is #YouOkSis. This particular campaign highlighted street harassment of women and girls. Another campaign, National Moment of Silence in 2014 was launched on August 10, 2014 $NMOS14. Using twitter, Face Book, and Instagram and working with almost 100 individuals Jones was able to coordinate over 119 vigils in 42 states and five countries that took place five days after Michael Brown was killed.[4]
If readers are not convinced of the power of social media, Jones cites still another campaign, #SayHerName, which honors the forgotten Black women erased in the existing narrative about police brutality and amplifies those Black women that have been victims of police violence. Jones highlights an international campaign to demonstrate the universal reach of social media. #BringBackOurGirls, mobilized a movement created in response to the kidnapping of hundreds of girls in Chibok, Nigeria by the terrorist group, Boko Haram. The movement was initiated by feminist Nigerian activist, Obiageli Ezekwesili. While she was not the first to use the hashtag, its use was inspired by her call to action around the world to bring the girls home. The hashtag according to Jones, “awakened a consciousness about the violence inflicted on women and girls in the region and dominated the news and media for weeks.”[5]
Jones cited another global campaign, #TWOCC (Trans Women of Color Collective). TWOCC, a grassroots-funded global initiative was created to offer opportunities for trans people of color, families, and comrades to engage in healing, foster kinship and build community.
Jones identifies as a Black feminist and a social justice warrior/activist that uses her platforms to “encourage challenging discourse, inspire and motivate people into action and amplify the narratives that often go ignored by the mainstream media, which usually center whiteness and white experiences.”[6]
The first chapter of her book chronicles the Black feminist movement and one of the first Black feminist organizations, The Combahee River Collective founded in the late 1970s. The Combahee River Collective Statement is foundational to Black feminism. Her chapters on Black feminism 101 and 102 serve as a primer on Black feminism. Jones reiterates throughout the book her belief that Black feminism is the key to Black liberation. She cites Angela Davis who explains and justifies claiming early Black women as Black feminists even though the term did not exist at the time. Davis conceptualizes the acts of resistance by Black women as Black feminism. Davis is not alone in her assertion. Beverly Guy-Sheftall, editor of the iconic anthology, Words of Fire: An Anthology of African-American Feminist Thought also claims the identity of Black feminists and links early trailblazers such as Frances Ellen Watkins Harper, Sojourner Truth, Anna Julia Cooper, and Amy Jacques Garvey. These early Black feminist trailblazers are linked to contemporary Black feminists such as Barbara Smith, bell hooks, the women of the Combahee River Collective, Patricia Hill Collins and others (too many to name).
Jones uses the terms Black feminism and womanism interchangeably. She asserts that Black women have come to Black feminism because they have rejected the racism of mainstream white feminists and the (hetero) sexism of the Black Power movement.
Downside to Social Media for Black Women Entrepreneurs
While talk of threads, live-tweeting watch nights, and blogs have brought communities of Black women together, there is a downside according to Jones. Black women end up performing free labor simply by being themselves and because they are tied into underserved populations. By virtue of who they are they bring demographics that marketing executives have either ignored or been unable to attract. Marketers’ surveys indicate that programs that live tweet when a program is airing generate 64% more discussion.
Influencers
The term “influencers” when used in reference to social media refers to the “power to affect the purchasing decisions of others because of their authority, knowledge, position, or relationship with their audience.”[7] Black women influencers are positioned to potentially be compensated to promote products and services, develop as public speaking on panels and conferences, and write and produce content for household publications. Some Black women have been able to leverage social media to become influential thought leaders, respected artists, cultural critics and content creators according to Jones.
Because of Feminista Jones’ book and her schooling her readers on the influence of social media and Black women’s ability to wield its influence and power towards feminism and social change we will never look at social media in the same way. Enjoy your read!
– Reviewed by Rev. Dr. Qiyamah A. Rahman
• • •
[1] Feminista Jones. Reclaiming Our Space: How Black Feminists are Changing the World from the Tweets to the Streets. Boston: Beacon Press. 2019. p. 6.
[2] Feminista Jones. Reclaiming Our Space: How Black Feminists are Changing the World from the Tweets to the Streets. Boston: Beacon Press. 2019. p. 33.
[3] While they popularized the hashtag, Dr. Marcus Anthony Hunter first tweeted it on August 20, 2012.
[4] Michael Brown Jr, was an 18-year-old Black male fatally shot by 28-year-old white Ferguson police officer Darren Wilson in the city of Ferguson, Missouri. The shooting set off widespread protests in Ferguson. His death brought attention to police killings of Blacks.
[5] Feminista Jones. Reclaiming Our Space: How Black Feminists are Changing the World from the Tweets to the Streets. Boston: Beacon Press. 2019. p. 32.
[6] Feminista Jones. Reclaiming Our Space: How Black Feminists are Changing the World from the Tweets to the Streets. Boston: Beacon Press. 2019. p. 4.
[7] Feminista Jones. Reclaiming Our Space: How Black Feminists are Changing the World from the Tweets to the Streets. Boston: Beacon Press. 2019. p. 53.
The Space Between Us
Recently, Jan Carpenter Tucker sent me a copy of Olivia Jones by first-time author Phillip A. Brown. Jan is Sister Souurce, Inc.’s Design and Digital Solutions Specialist, and owner of Night Star Publisher, which did the editing and book design for Olivia Jones. Jan is a fabulous web designer/developer, editor and staff person with Sister Souurce, Inc. She has taken the concept of Sister Souurce, Inc., captured its mission and vision, and translated it into our user-friendly website focusing on Black UU women and girls. I was eager to see her skills in another context, and considering the book as a possible gift for my nine-year-old granddaughter, Malia – a prolific reader and writer.
In my weekly Sunday FaceTime chats with Malia, we often read stories to each other. Until recently, these stories have been “picture books” — long on pictures and short on text. But when she turned nine in January, I could no longer justify reading “picture books” to her; I had begun to think about the transition and how to identify books that were more age-appropriate. Hence, my curiosity about Olivia Jones.
The book arrived on a Saturday. I picked it up from my post office box and began to read the book immediately upon arriving home. I completed the softback book in less than a day with a couple of breaks. The book consists of 145 pages of text with additional pages devoted to the bibliography, advance reviews and the author’s and illustrators’ biographies. The cover of Olivia Jones depicts a smiling brown-skinned Olivia with cornrows.
Olivia Jones is a historical fiction set in the 1960s in Selma, Alabama during the nation’s civil rights struggles. While it is told through the innocent eyes of the eleven-year-old protagonist, it centers the larger issue of justice, and the struggles of Black southerners facing centuries-old oppressions. The reader follows Olivia (Oli) and her best friend, Bartholomew (Mo), on their journey to find their fathers.
The children’s adventures to find their fathers are chronicled and the reader sees through their eyes the twists and turns of their lives punctuated by the celebrations and concerns of being Black in Alabama. It becomes apparent that the plot is less about the missing fathers, and more about the why of their missing. Their absence is connected to the dangers, seen and unseen, that Black men and boys encounter in a racist society. The plot depicts how racism can create fractures in Black lives, families and communities. During a period when Black life was fraught with danger, as a result of white supremacy, the author balances the often fragile lives of Blacks and the ever-present veneer of racism. Brown also skillfully depicts how loyalty, compassion and resilience are important, deeply rooted, life-saving elements.
The author illustrates the injustices of racism through Olivia’s guileless eyes using age-appropriate narratives about the ugly realities of lynching and other forms of violence too common in that era. Two young boys, hidden in the woods and afraid, witness a lynching narrated using sparse words only stating the incident the boys see instead of horrible details a book geared to an older reader might.
Having once read a book to my granddaughter about Native Americans that I did not read all the way through before sharing with her, an age-appropriate narrative is important. I wanted her to be familiar with the culture and the injustices to which Native Americans had been subjected. However, the author provided graphic details of a genocidal massacre causing my voice to quiver and tears to well up in my eyes. Yet I made the decision to continue reading. My granddaughter is very curious and would have wanted to know why I was crying. I explained why I was so sad and how wrong the actions of the soldiers were. I also solicited her feelings and emotions. She was sad but she was not as triggered as I was. Thank goodness!
Still, while we desire to provide learning opportunities for our youth about the true story of America, we also want to be age-appropriate. Olivia Jones and the author, Phillip A. Brown, get my vote of approval. The book is educationally age-appropriate for ages eight and older. The author is a gifted writer. His story line flows well even though he moves back and forth in time between the adult fathers’ lives and their childhoods, and then back to present times. To make these transitions easier for the reader he provides subheadings describing every transition. Even when the text included only a paragraph these subtitles alerted the reader to the speaker and time period.
The book seems to end abruptly. Perhaps the author plans to create sequels, much like Beverly Cleary and Judy Blume did. They were two popular authors in the 1960s who recently died. However, neither of these white authors talked about social matters of the day, nor featured Black or Brown children. Our children are fortunate that there are a lot more books featuring them, their communities, their accomplishments and the issues and circumstances that impact our lives. Thank you, Phillip A. Brown, for your contribution to the treasure trove of books that are written for our Black children and youngsters!
– Reviewed by Rev. Dr. Qiyamah A. Rahman
Our Lives Matter: A Womanist Queer Theology by Rev. Dr. Pamela R. Lightsey
Using a womanist methodological approach, Rev. Dr. Pamela R. Lightsey explores the impact of oppression against Black LBGTQ women and introduces her reader to queer theology. This review combines both a book review of Our Lives Matter: A Womanist Queer Theology by Rev. Dr. Pamela R. Lightsey, and a Queer Theology Bible Podcast interview with Lightsey.
Lightsey is a womanist theologian, and an ordained elder in the Northern Illinois Conference of the United Methodist Church. Elder status is the highest order one can attain in the United Methodist Church. Lightsey is the first out African American ordained queer lesbian elder in the United Methodist Church as of August, 2015. She currently serves as Vice President for Academic Affairs and Associate Professor of Constructive Theology at Meadville Lombard Theological School (MLTS). As a Christian and Methodist working in a Unitarian Universalist context, she indicated in the podcast interview that she is learning to respect different ways of thinking and being. She is enjoying a certain liberty at MLTS and learning new language and ways of thinking about the sacred and divine.
Lightsey states that she wrote the book because there was no book by or about Black queer women. “This deserved some analysis and interrogation,” she proclaimed. “I wanted to write what I felt would be a love story to Christians that God does love them (LGBTQ individuals) …People wrote me and thanked me…It is sad that there are still people out there that believe God hates them…This is a sad commentary, not on God, but on Christian leadership,” she stated in her interview.
Lightsey’s book takes the reader on a journey to explore contemporary debates such as same sex marriage and ordination rights. She reminds her readers of a basic premise; sexual identity is not fixed. According to Lightsey, one of the many benefits of using a womanist theological framework is that it provides Black women with theological resources in ways that do not privilege whiteness or patriarchy. She acknowledges that she was “spiritually suffocating in the closet,” and that her entry into queer theology and research was inspired by womanist dialogue. [1]
Reading Sacred Text as a Radical Act
Applying a queering reading to scripture claims the sacredness of queer identity and invites a critical interrogation of all forms of traditional interpretation that condone oppression. Queer Theology views each person as sacred and loved. Applying a queering of sacred text has produced a revisit of King David’s love for Jonathan. The Ethiopian eunuch who converted to Christianity in Acts is another biblical passage that has undergone a new interpretation using Queer theology, according to Lightsey. Jesus’ relationship with his disciple John, viewed within a Queer theology framework, also takes on a different meaning.
In chapter four, Lightsey interrogates the ways in which queers of faith seek understanding about God. Womanist Christian queers understand God as the Divine Creator of all that is, the Cause of All Being.[2] Like the theologian Karl Barth, Lightsey believes that God is revealed in “who He is in His works.”[3] She accompanies the reader to the creation story themes to remind some and inform others that God, “formed the orderly, determinate world and did so with no pre-existing material.”[4]
In her podcast interview, she poses questions about hymns such as, “I’m a soldier in the army of the Lord.” War is destructive, she notes, yet she thinks “about the goodness of God.” Lightsey ponders the evil in the Bible. She identifies these evils as rape, murder, incest, and sexism stating, “…I don’t respect any human being trying to harm other human beings. I have long stopped idealizing the hierarchy of the church… Human beings are capable of doing great things and dastardly things in the name of God.”
Queer Womanist Methodology
The goal of Queer Womanist Methodology, according to Lightsey, is to “demonstrate how reason appeals to scripture in making theological arguments, and to make clear that arguments about God and revelation cannot be grounded in scripture alone.” She cites several Black womanist scholars who use intersectional analyses, including Monica Coleman, Nikki Young and Elanda Clay.[5]
Lightsey asserts that God reveals himself through events in our lives. This is consistent with womanist theological theory, which posits that humans come to know God by their experiences of God. As a result, womanist theologians maintain that theory and practice must be done from the context of the experience of the oppressed. Furthermore, any theology that does not respect the context of queer Black women has no purpose and is dead, according to Lightsey.[6]
Queer theology accepts diverse cultural perspectives about God and requires accepting a healthy conceptualization of God. Far too many Black lesbians were made to believe that God was a white male that hated homosexuals. As we know, academics and Black clergy have been guilty of this limited worldview.
Queer Black Christians have been forced to reinterpret the scriptures, and to unpack the textual images to provide hope for the world in which they live. They have refused to receive destructive texts attributed to God that condemn them. In the same tradition of their ancestors who rejected the verse, “Servants submit to your masters,” Black Queer Christians have rejected the scriptural references that ensure the ongoing enslavement of Black Queers.
Lightsey reminds her readers of several important considerations:
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language is a powerful resource, and we must always consider how it influences and is influenced by our social location;
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we cannot rely solely on what the Bible says and what humans have to say about God;
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using the Bible as the sole text for knowing God is idolatrous and dangerous for people who say they love God;
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there are incidents in the Bible that would be contrary to the accepted humane practices of the current day—she cites genocide of an entire people (Joshua 6:17-21); rape (Deuteronomy 22:28); revenge by dashing one’s enemies’ babies against rocks (Psalms 137:9) and condoning of slavery (Colossians 3:22);
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there would be no queer theology without the deconstruction work done by post structuralists;
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deconstruction is foundational to understanding the philosophical arguments of Queer Theology
Lightsey quotes Copeland on page 75 as follows, “A healthy appreciation of sexuality is crucial to generous, generative, and full living. A full embodied spirituality calls for the integration of sexual energies and drives, rather than repression or even sublimation.” Unitarian Universalists in general embrace a healthy perspective on sexuality. This is demonstrated through the teaching of Our Whole Lives at all ages and levels of development. UUs speak about and practice, for the most part, healthy expressions of sexuality.
UU Research
While no research to this writer’s knowledge has been conducted on whether the inclusion and acceptance of Black queer lesbians is a factor in their attraction to UUism, I speculate that UUism poses an inviting acceptance to Black queers regardless of their theologies or lack of. Perhaps we might one day ask the question or conduct research to determine the reasons Black queer women are attracted to UUism, or if born into UUism, what has prompted them to remain UU. Until then, may UUism continue to acknowledge the full humanity of individuals. And may Rev. Dr. Pamela Lightsey continue to be the voice in the wilderness seeking safety for Black Queer Lesbians.
While Lightsey loves teaching, in her spare time she loves fishing. Her next book will explore what it means to be a human being functioning in a world when walking out the door could cost you your life.
– Reviewed by Rev. Dr. Qiyamah A. Rahman
• • •
[1] Lightsey, Pamela R. Our Lives Matter: A Womanist Queer Theology. Eugene: Pickwick Publications. 2015. p. xiii.
[2] Lightsey, Pamela R. Our Lives Matter: A Womanist Queer Theology. Eugene: Pickwick Publications. 2015. p. 36.
[3] Lightsey, Pamela R. Our Lives Matter: A Womanist Queer Theology. Eugene: Pickwick Publications. 2015. p. xiii.
[4] Lightsey, Pamela R. Our Lives Matter: A Womanist Queer Theology. Eugene: Pickwick Publications. 2015. p. 37.
[5] Lightsey, Pamela R. Our Lives Matter: A Womanist Queer Theology. Eugene: Pickwick Publications. 2015. pp. xiii, 45.
[6] Lightsey, Pamela R. Our Lives Matter: A Womanist Queer Theology. Eugene: Pickwick Publications. 2015. p. 38.
Communities of Resistance and Solidarity: A Feminist Theology of Liberation by Sharon D. Welch
Dr. Sharon Welch is a Unitarian Universalist feminist liberation theologian, who self-identifies as white, female, and owning class. Just as she is transparent about her social location, she candidly claims her double identity of oppressed and oppressor, a dual identity many of us share—if we are honest.
In her book, Communities of Resistance and Solidarity: A Theology of Liberation, Welch addresses the role that religion plays in fostering liberation and maintaining oppression. In her book she seeks to develop a personal understanding of a liberating mode of theological reflection.[1] According to Welch, theology is important because it determines the type of response the church makes to particular social and political crises; it therefore shapes the nature of human community and human belonging in the world. One of the goals of liberation theology, as Welch views it, is to disclose and challenge oppressive theological concepts, dictatorial church structures, and exploitative social/political institutions. The liberation theology that Welch practices “is not based in academia, texts or literature, but in actual communities in the concrete experience of women and men struggling to build a new world… a community that appropriates the Christian tradition in the context of political and social struggle.”[2]
Welch examines the status of the political interpretation of the Christian faith. She cites numerous theologians that resist the complicity of Christianity in oppressive circumstances, including James Cone, Black liberation theologian, and Mary Daly, feminist theologian. Naturally, Gustovo Gutierrez, the patron saint of the oppressed, is among the liberation theologians that Welch frequently quotes. Welch invites liberal theologians to examine the adequacy of their language about God. She asserts that liberal theologians have not yet discovered the evidence and arguments to establish with certainty the reality of God. Welch grapples with Christianity’s complicity in the oppression of women as one of its moral inadequacies. Furthermore, she cites Christianity’s participation in witch burnings, the Inquisition, the Crusades; their justification of imperialism and colonialism, and the perpetration of sexism, racism and anti-semitism, as historical examples of Christianity’s complicity with oppression.
Liberation theology in Welch’s opinion is a way out of Christianity’s continued complicity. Welch views the task of liberation theology as a new way to do theology that reflects on the world as part of the process through which the world is transformed. Welch further maintains that feminist theology is “grounded in the liberating experience of sisterhood, in the process of liberation from sexism.”[3]
She poses important questions for the reader to grapple with and reflect on, some of which she answers. “Is Christian faith itself a dangerous mark for relations of domination?” This is one of the many provocative questions she poses.
She ponders a truly gut-wrenching question, “Where was the liberating God in the Nazi holocaust, Vietnam, Hiroshima-Nagasaki, and the torture of political prisoners?” Welch reminds readers that these atrocities were carried out through the active and passive complicity of “good Christians and solid citizens,” thus she questions the “fundamental morality of Christianity.”
Welch boldly addresses these stark contradictions in Christian practice and beliefs, and raises still another question: “What does it mean to believe in a gospel of love, justice, and peace when a Christian head of state, General Rios Montt systematically and brutally exterminated the Indian population of his country, Guatemala?”
In light of such atrocities, Welch ponders the plight of oppressed peoples and wonders whether they ever question the existence of God? She invites the reader to redirect the question, not to the actions of God, but to the actions of the oppressor. In her reframing, Welch seeks not only to stimulate the thinking of the oppressed but to redirect their thinking to the actions of oppressive systems and the individuals acting on behalf of such systems. Instead of posing the question, “God, how could you allow this to happen?” she encourages asking, “How can our government and military act so oppressively?” thus focusing on the actions of the oppressors.
Welch draws heavily on the theories and teachings of Michel Foucault, the French philosopher, historian, writer, political activist and literary critic. His theories primarily address the relationship between power and knowledge, and how they are used as a form of social control through social institutions. During his lifetime, Foucault was committed to challenging oppression and was self-critical in his application of theory and practice.
Foucault asserts that each society has a regime of truth—the types of discourse which it accepts and makes function as true. According to Welch, Foucault does not accept that there is a single human way of knowing. Furthermore, he asserts the experience of order is not a static given, nor a secure basis for thought or action.[4] The recognition that the struggle for knowledge and its dominance can dictate “who will live and how, and who will die and for what grand cause” is significant in attaining dominance. Whoever establishes and controls “truth” gains control of the narrative about oppression and the oppressed, and can dictate whether liberation theology—the solution posed by Welch—is embraced or rejected. Welch extensively explores Foucault’s correlation of power and knowledge which in her opinion provides a grid through which various operations of power may be examined.[5] Hence, she raises intriguing questions about power and control:
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Whose knowledge is given authority? And what institutions survey knowledge and create knowers?
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Whose knowledge is taken as real? Whose knowledge is rejected as inadequate, unscientific?
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Is knowledge itself powerful? How does knowledge shape political, social and economic structures?
Welch thoroughly examines the relationship between power and knowledge. She reminds us that knowledge provides access for those in power to use against the oppressed. Oftentimes it is challenging to determine where Foucault’s theories end and begin, and when Welch is imparting her own ideas. She engages so intimately with Foucault’s theories, attempting to move the reader along the vast and complex theories Foucault articulated over his lifetime. Welch and Foucault remind the reader that a new body of knowledge brings into being a new class of people who can exercise a different kind of power. For instance, a ruling class generates an ideology that suits its own interests. However, if a new ideology creates space for a new ruling class, can the marginalized and dispossessed assume power—and would they be considered “ruling class?” Could they rule justly and fairly? Liberating systems have to express concern for the well-being of all people and to care about justice for all groups of people.
Dr. Sharon Welch’s book, though short at just one hundred pages, is not light reading. But it is well worth it, and in my opinion, should be required for any liberation theology course. In her distinct scholarly manner, Welch systematically presents and proves her hypothesis that Christianity has been complicit in aligning itself with systems of oppression. She further asserts that the failure of Christianity is not its false or unrealistic claims, but its failure to claim enough. Christianity failed in Welch’s opinion, not in its practice to “transform the corruption and inhumanity of the world but in its practice of the vision of the human community.”[6] Welch maintains that liberation theology is a possible solution to build a new world that shapes the human community. While it is reasonable to question whether the oppressed can exercise a different kind of power to rule justly and fairly, Welch and Foucault assert that the ruling class cannot be left to the creation of knowledge which shapes the very existence of society, and that inevitably influences the lives of its people. The narrative about a society’s existence and its people must be based on the experiences of diverse races, genders and classes, and not solely on the experience of any one of these.
The struggle for knowledge and dominance does not have to lead to corrupt systems of dominance that create marginalized groups. Liberation theology, Welch would assert, is capable of building a new world; this may very well be the topic of her next book. While she poses as many questions as she answers, she does not profess to have all of the solutions. Her questions demonstrate her scholarship, clarity, and vision for the just and whole world that we as Unitarian Universalists profess to embrace. They provoke the reader to seek solutions and dive deeply into creating just and humane systems.
– Reviewed by Rev. Dr. Qiyamah Rahman
• • •
[1] Welch, Sharon D. Communities of Resistance and Solidarity: A Feminist Theology of Liberation. Eugene: Wipf and Stock Publishers. 2017. p. 13.
[2] Welch, Sharon D. Communities of Resistance and Solidarity: A Feminist Theology of Liberation. Eugene: Wipf and Stock Publishers. 2017. p. 33.
[3] Welch, Sharon D. Communities of Resistance and Solidarity: A Feminist Theology of Liberation. Eugene: Wipf and Stock Publishers. 2017. p. 25.
[4] Welch, Sharon D. Communities of Resistance and Solidarity: A Feminist Theology of Liberation. Eugene: Wipf and Stock Publishers. 2017. pp. 12-13.
[5] Welch, Sharon D. Communities of Resistance and Solidarity: A Feminist Theology of Liberation. Eugene: Wipf and Stock Publishers. 2017. pp. 18-19.
[6] Welch, Sharon D. Communities of Resistance and Solidarity: A Feminist Theology of Liberation. Eugene: Wipf and Stock Publishers. 2017. p. 33.
Ecowomanism at the Panama Canal: Black Women, Labor, and Environmental Ethics by Sophia Betancourt
“Our ancestors offer us blueprints for surviving the unimaginable and through our very existence bear witness to the birthing of new ways.”[1]
Ecowomanism at the Panama Canal: Black Women, Labor, and Environmental Ethics by Sophia Betancourt, a Unitarian Universalist minister, represents a significant scholarly contribution to ecofeminism and environmental justice. The book documents the building of the Panama Canal that was accomplished by the labor of men and women from the African diaspora. While the men worked as laborers, most women worked in what appears to be exclusively domestic positions. These women came either as single women looking for work, or married women working to supplement their family income.
Betancourt’s book examines the erroneous narrative the global north has perpetuated about the Panama Canal that historically inspired ideas and values of “progress, engineering might, benevolence, idealism.” This narrative characterized the Panama Canal as “a selfless gift” built by the global north’s American engineers. Using an ecofeminist framework Betancourt exposes the “manifest destiny… tropical triumphalism, Protestant ethic of control and masked imperialism” of the global north that continues to “marginalize and harm both undervalued human populations in the global south and the environment as a whole.”[2]
Panamanians are correcting this false narrative through research, thus revealing the erased contributions of Caribbean migrants, primarily Black male laborers from Barbados and Jamaica. However, Black women’s voices are still largely ignored. [3] Betancourt pays tribute to the voices of these “routinely silenced” women, thus repairing the imposed silence through a rereading of history employing an anti-imperialist lens and achieving a needed archival repair.
Her recovery and repair of history is partly accomplished through the retrieval of archival research and the oral history of female migrants from the Caribbean, including those of her own family members. She reminds the reader of the untold stories of the men and women that endured “mud, mosquitoes and malaria” to erect the Panama Canal.[4] These “silver men and women” were referred to as such because the white workers were paid in gold and Black workers were paid in silver.
Betancourt introduces her readers to terms like Generational Displacement, which occurs when communities have been forcibly displaced from their ancestral homes. Using an ecowomanist framework, Betancourt examines not only the disruption in human life but the climate disruption and its toll on the land. The sole photograph included in the book (which numbers one hundred and forty nine pages) shows a picture of the dying jungle, Gatun Lake. Taken in February, 1919, the picture captures the corpses of trees in Gatun Lake. If these trees were humans, the massive killing of trees and displacement of land and dirt would be viewed as genocide.
While the feat of connecting two oceans for the first time in history is often spoken of in glowing accolades conjuring images of engineering geniuses, Betancourt guides the reader through a deconstruction of narratives centered not in human values but hegemonic dominance, domination that resulted in the building of one of the seven wonders of the world. While the engineers viewed their handiwork as necessary to restructure and control the uncooperative Earth, Betancourt points to Emily Townes’ emphasis on “false moral universals as tools of power.” Thus, from the standpoint of hegemonic dominance, the destruction of trees and land, and any subsequent devastation, are mere environmental casualties that were necessary and routine.
Betancourt draws heavily on Emily Townes’ works that focus on the production of evil. Townes asserts we must “undermine the cultural productions of those ideologies most responsible for perpetuating structures of evil through domination.”[5] Betancourt suggests that in order to be successful in responding to environmental devastation we will have to reclaim the wisdom from communities of the African diaspora.[6] Betancourt identifies Black ecowomanist ethicists’ efforts, thus disproving the erroneous notion that Black communities are anti-environmentalists.[7]
One of the most intriguing aspects of Betancourt’s book is her treatment of Obeah, the collective set of African derived or influenced practices that draws on the supernatural to affect change. She asserts that Europeans have tried to “define, conscribe and control” the practice of Obeah out of fear of losing dominance and legal ownership over colonized and enslaved communities. So while Betancourt acknowledges that Obeah can be performed in the hopes of controlling others or cruelly imposing one’s will, she maintains that it also contains the possibility of reclaiming one’s humanity – one’s connection with God – and rehumanizing entire communities. Betancourt asserts that Obeah had a critical role in resistance efforts in locations where Blacks were colonized. She cites Jamaica as a primary example. Betancourt describes the following:[8]
“…The practices of Obeah can be used for healing, they can be used for poisoning, they can be used for a reckoning and recompense against injustice, and they can be used for protection and an investment in personal and communal freedom. The choice over whether and how to make use of such methods to be the hand of healing or the one that serves poison allows for a level of resistance that rightly caused great distress among enslavers and colonial authorities alike.”
Studies indicate that Obeah was frequently listed as a factor and source of fear among white enslavers. Betancourt reports that over time the majority of crimes committed using Obeah were by females rather than males and usually reflected efforts to resist oppressive conditions.
Conclusion
“It is ours to gather seeds left behind in conditions unfavorable for growth and sow them in gardens of possibility our mothers could only dream about at times.”[9]
If Betancourt’s book were solely devoted to remediating and correcting the false narrative that erased the workers and their contributions, it would already be an invaluable contribution. However, the author’s vision far exceeds that limited goal. She demonstrates how the Panama Canal has contributed to climate disruption, and how the Canal represents some of the earliest seeds of American empire building.[10]
Betancourt’s research goes beyond the politics of the global north and south governments. She investigates the multiple narratives centered in the lived experiences of the workers. It is the engagement of numerous voices from diverse social locations that invites new ways of approaching research. Elements of Participatory Action Research are evidenced in her methodology that places the research subjects at the center of the research as valuable participants, while superimposing a justice-centered framework.
The building of knowledge through shared experiences and survival on new lands allows Betancourt to “see, hear and appreciate the diversities in our midst.” It is the “counter memory” that “seeks to open up subversive spaces of counterhegemony and argues for a reconstitution of history.” The reclamation of inherited environmental cultures pushes against the erroneous myth of Black communities as anti-environmentalism. Betancourt includes the names of Black ecowomanist scholars to debunk this myth once and for all.
Our ability to shift the environmental devastation that currently exists requires constructing ethics that interrogate decolonization, that are diasporic in nature, and that apply a multireligious, environmentalist approach. Immense gratitude is due the Rev. Dr. Sophia Betancourt for this brilliant research, which Emilie Townes predicts will become a new primer for environmental justice. In Melanie Harris’ words, “Betancourt guides us along the path of undoing harm and recommitting our hearts to the work and practice of earth justice.”
– Reviewed by Rev. Dr. Qiyamah A. Rahman
• • •
[1] Betancourt, Sofia. Ecowomanism at the Panama Canal: Black Women, Labor, and Environmental Ethics. Maryland: Lexington Books – Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group, Inc. 2022. p. 15.
[2] Betancourt, Sofia. Ecowomanism at the Panama Canal: Black Women, Labor, and Environmental Ethics. Maryland: Lexington Books – Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group, Inc. 2022. p. 3.
[3] Betancourt, Sofia. Ecowomanism at the Panama Canal: Black Women, Labor, and Environmental Ethics. Maryland: Lexington Books – Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group, Inc. 2022. p. 53.
[4] Betancourt, Sofia. Ecowomanism at the Panama Canal: Black Women, Labor, and Environmental Ethics. Maryland: Lexington Books – Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group, Inc. 2022. p. 3.
[5] Sofia Betancourt. Ecowomanism at the Panama Canal: Black Women, Labor, and Environmental Ethics. Maryland: Lexington Books – Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group, Inc. 2022. p. 11.
[6] Sofia Betancourt. Ecowomanism at the Panama Canal: Black Women, Labor, and Environmental Ethics. Maryland: Lexington Books – Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group, Inc. 2022. p. 9.
[7] They included: Melanie Harris, Delores Williams, Emilie Townes, Karen Baker-Fletcher, Layli Maparyan, Mercy Oduyoye and Xiumei Pu.
[8] Sofia Betancourt. Ecowomanism at the Panama Canal: Black Women, Labor, and Environmental Ethics. Maryland: Lexington Books – Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group, Inc. 2022. p. 97.
[9] Sofia Betancourt. Ecowomanism at the Panama Canal: Black Women, Labor, and Environmental Ethics. Maryland: Lexington Books – Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group, Inc. 2022. p. 16.
[10] Sofia Betancourt. Ecowomanism at the Panama Canal: Black Women, Labor, and Environmental Ethics. Maryland: Lexington Books – Rowman & Littlefield Publishing Group, Inc. 2022. p. 2.
BLUU Notes: An Anthology of Love, Justice and Liberation edited by Mykal Slack and Takiyah Nur Amin
In the tradition of Been in the Storm So Long and Voices from the Margins, the meditation manual BLUU Notes: An Anthology of Love, Justice and Liberation joins the legacy of treasures generated by Skinner House Books. Created and birthed through the collaborative efforts of Takiyah Nur Amin and Mykal Slack, the anthology’s themes of love, justice and liberation are captured in the creative talents of its contributors, whose voices are massaged and birthed through their tears, pain, laughter, joy and sheer determination.
This small meditation manual is overflowing with the soulful Black voices of familiar and new talent. Twenty individuals serenade the readers with their poetic poise, accompanied by six songs reflecting a beautiful blending of musical lyrics. Musicians, Mykal Slack, Glen Thomas Rideout, Ysaye M. Barnwell and Reverend Osgyefo Sekou are familiar names and treasures in Unitarian Universalist circles. David Frazier’s name is perhaps less known, but familiar because of his widely popular song, “I Need You to Survive.” His is a name now engraved on my heart. Melanie DeMore’s “Hold Everybody Up” is a new name to me that I look forward to hearing more from in the future.
If the music is on point, the poetry is magical, hard hitting, poignant and memorable. Morning Song by Patrice Curtis reminds us that we are, “the spirit of the holy, face of the sacred, strong, the universe manifest.” Mykal Slack’s Prayer of Power and Wonder recalls BLUU’s 2019 Harper-Jordan Memorial Symposium, when he lifted up the participants with this prayer. He reminds us that our coming together invites laughter, crying, breaking bread, cutting up, learning and growing together. Viola Abbitt’s prayer, Toward a Place of Wholeness, encourages us to look beyond the places Unitarian Universalism (UU) has fallen short. And that it has, “shifted course to move toward a place of wholeness; a place that has perhaps never existed for us…”
Soren Byrd, AKA Benita Jeanelle, speaks lovingly in the poem, Digital Faith, about the lit chalice that “turns on the light in our souls.” One of our UU elders, William G. Sinkford, inspires us in a prayer titled, Only Begun, to “imagine justice and mercy…hold fast to our vision…see hope in our history…find courage…work for constant rebirth.” Melissa C. Jeter challenges us with Black Girl Blues, reminding us that our ancestors paid the dues for us. Charlene Carruthers’ poem, Radical Imagination, proclaims we were “made for this moment…for future generations…they have called us to this moment.” Mallessa James’ poem, Dark Natured, plays with images of darkness, symbolizing the womb, soil, our bodies, minds, monsters and secrets.
Jan Carpenter Tucker, in Sankofa–Go Back and Get It, suggests we fetch what is at risk of being left behind and … “see what we can do differently.” Sherryl N. Weston proclaims her love for UUism in her poem, Finding Our Way, and what it has done for her spiritual journey and UUism’s openness to many religions. Mya Wade-Harper announces, “I am here to stay” in her poem, Being UU and Black. Our beloved ancestar Mathew P. Taylor’s Lamentations extolls lamentations as a way to be “seen, held, heard…so that the weeping stories are not silenced.”
Anthony Y. Stringer, another UU elder, captures the meaning of the African Spirit, in his poem of the same name. The African Spirit provokes him to be mindful, reverent, humble, grateful, in service, and creative. He reminds us that Spirit is available in each of us. Sofia Betancourt dedicates her poem, Gather the Bones “for the ancestors whose funeral prayers I sang under the full moon that night in Cuba.” She reminds us that “our history lies in those bones… the tortured voices” and so we are inspired to gather the bones.
Everett Hoagland, another of our elders, echoes the protest chant, “No Justice No Peace” in his poem, The Music. He recalls that the words and sentiments are no longer solely embraced by Blacks but “with masses of allies… as we trod the stony road…we have always been on.” Ebony C. Peace’s Lynching Version 2 compares the “knee on her neck a modern noose,” and invites us to reflect on similarities between past and present forms of oppression. Elias Ortega’s On Blue Notes and Resolutions utilizes Black music to expose the reader to the deep suffering portrayed in the blues, as well as the importance of resolution as a way forward.
Finally, my short poem titled, God Knows My Name grew out of my understanding of what it feels like to have constant communion with the Most High – the Holy. And because of that desire to know God, God also knows me. While I may be known by only one name, God has many names or no name. I don’t have to prostrate myself or be in a place of worship to call on or lift up the name of the Most High.
May this meditation manual be a blessing to many, and may it be one of many more to follow!
– Reviewed by Rev. Dr. Qiyamah A. Rahman
The Call to Care: Essays by Unitarian Universalist Chaplains, edited by Karen L. Hutt
The Call to Care: Essays by Unitarian Universalist Chaplains is an anthology of essays written by UU chaplains serving individuals in diverse settings. The essays offer glimpses into the diverse and creative ways that UU chaplains serve their varied communities, as well as their reflections on their work.
In preparation for this important and specialized work, chaplains are required to have a Master of Divinity degree, thus they are all ministers. Chaplains must be endorsed by their faith community, in addition to completing at least four units of Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE). In 1925 Richard C. Cabot, a prominent physician and active Unitarian layperson in Boston published an article titled, “A Plea for a Clinical Year.”[1]
The first CPE Program was established at Worcester State Hospital, where Anton T. Boisen was chaplain. Boisen had had a long history of mental illness and psychotic episodes. As a result, he “explored the concept that mental illness presented a crisis brought about by the failure to grow into higher social loyalties, including loyalty to God. He believed mental illness could be cured by the power of religion.”[2] This new and radical method of theological learning emphasized communication, spiritual assessments, and collaboration with multidisciplinary care and treatment teams whose goal was the welfare and healing of the care seeker.
Keith W. Goheen, one of the contributors to the anthology, reflects on the sacred role of chaplains: “Amid the pain and brokenness in the world and in our souls, our relationships have the power to heal.”[3] Upon further reflection, Goheen recognizes the theological learning that links the professional and personal relationships as follows: “to recognize the spiritual character of the relationships within the families in my care, I must be well tuned to the spiritual character of my own professional and personal relationships.” [4]
Verbatims, or summaries of pastoral care encounters in which chaplains reflect on occurrences in their encounters with patients, allow chaplains in training, as part of their learning experience, to draw insights from these reflections for use in future pastoral care. Chaplains learn to develop relationships with strangers in crisis, and to gain comfort with ambiguity. Rebekah Ingram, another contributor to the anthology, links self-awareness, self-assessment and self-care, thusly: “Our assessments and the care we provide are inextricably tied to our own self-assessment and self-care practices.”[5]
While chaplains are expected to provide spiritual care and comfort to individuals representing vastly different faith traditions, UU chaplains can often bridge the challenging gap with those who identify as “No Religious Preference/NRP.” Another contributor, Rev. Cynthia Kane, reminds us that NRP does not mean “devoid of spiritual leanings or commitments.” [6] According to a 2010 Report by the Military Leadership Diversity Commission, less than 4 percent of all military personnel self-report as atheist or agnostic, coded as “humanist.”[7] While all chaplains are expected to serve across diverse faith traditions, UU chaplains may possess the flexible worldviews for the population that identifies as NRP, including those that identify as atheist, agnostic or humanist.
Xolani Kacela, a military chaplain who grew up in a military family, identified three important qualities for military chaplains: assertiveness, physical fitness, and flexibility. Kacela asserts that UUs’ lack of interaction with military personnel has resulted in a bias, that is, they view military personnel as “other.” He further asserts that this bias prevents military personnel from attending and possibly joining UU congregations. Additionally, Kacela posits that military organizations have changed individuals’ thinking and behaviors.
An examination of racist practices and sexual assault policies in the military highlights two instances in which the military’s modification of the institutional culture has resulted in individual and institutional change. Kacela reflects on the many practical aspects of chaplaincy, and the flexibility required to meet the needs of military populations.
The chaplains featured in the anthology are not hesitant to disagree. Kacela asserts that an effective chaplain must embrace and utilize the spiritual practices of those he or she serves. Chaplain Nathan Mesnikoff on the other hand, asserts the following: “… and despite my years of doing this work, I struggle with it from time to time because, at a deep level, I don’t believe what many of my patients do.”[8] The difference between the two conceptual frameworks is that Kacela attempts to meet the military personnel he serves where they are; in his ministering, a Christian would receive a Christian prayer, or scripture reading, while ministering to a Buddhist would include chanting, meditation, and teachings from Buddha. Mesnikoff, it appears, might struggle because of his inability to relate to the beliefs of others.
The many perspectives and experiences shared by the UU chaplains in The Call to Care convey the importance of a calming and centering presence during a spiritual crisis. It should be a reassuring source of pride that so many of our UU ministers serve as chaplains. The Call to Care highlights their contributions, and their profession.
– Reviewed by Rev. Dr. Qiyamah A. Rahman
[1] Karen L. Hutt. The Call to Care: Essays by Unitarian Universalist Chaplains. Boston: Skinner House Books, 2017. 198.
[2] https://www.ucc.org/anton-t-boisen-and-clinical-pastoral-education-cpe-2/
[3] Karen L. Hutt. The Call to Care: Essays by Unitarian Universalist Chaplains. Boston: Skinner House Books, 2017. 92.
[4] Karen L. Hutt. The Call to Care: Essays by Unitarian Universalist Chaplains. Boston: Skinner House Books, 2017. 79.
[5] Karen L. Hutt. The Call to Care: Essays by Unitarian Universalist Chaplains. Boston: Skinner House Books, 2017. 119.
[6] Karen L. Hutt. The Call to Care: Essays by Unitarian Universalist Chaplains. Boston: Skinner House Books, 2017. 129.
[7] Karen L. Hutt. The Call to Care: Essays by Unitarian Universalist Chaplains. Boston: Skinner House Books, 2017. 129.
[8] Karen L. Hutt. The Call to Care: Essays by Unitarian Universalist Chaplains. Boston: Skinner House Books, 2017. 41.
Spiritual Care in an Age of #BlackLivesMatter
“African Americans’ spirituality promoted our survival…through a spirituality that maintained the unity of blood and non-blood relations, public and previous life, physical and spirit world, church, and community. I am because we are and because we are, I am.” ~Danielle J. Buhuro
Danielle J. Buhuro, the editor of this amazing collection of essays, maintains that society does not make room for a quality of life for activists that provides a level of sustainable self-care. Existing leadership models often encourage workaholism and a level of sacrifice that are not sustainable. Buhuro suggests that if we are to be healthy and continue to advance a culture of resistance among People of the Global Majority – that is, Black and Indigenous People of Color (BIPOC) – we must identify a sustainable activism that calls for the long-term health of both the cause and the advocate.[1]
We cannot heal what we conceal. Many in society have embraced the mistaken notion that to have a better world, we must sacrifice our lives and our health. In our confusion, we have mistaken our internalized oppression and distress patterns for survival. Colonized messages resurface that we are not enough or not good enough. BIPOC emerge from circumstances of colonization and oppression. We no longer live under the extreme shadow of lynching that our ancestors endured, yet, because the exposure to trauma and the feeling of being out of control is ever present, a sense of terror persists, according to Buhuro. Monica Williams claims that the lived experiences of racism, combined with social media’s portrayal of the racism and police brutality, can create severe psychological disturbances reminiscent of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).[2]
One of the primary takeaways from Buhuro’s book is that BIPOC must reinterpret Black homicide by Blacks as acts of suicide that are the result of generations of being labeled the “problem” in America. Reinterpreting substance abuse and addiction as bodily self-destruction in response to PTSD – and not mere self-hatred – provides a lens for Blacks to view these actions as the result of colonization, white supremacy, and institutional racism, rather than merely individual acts of aggression. According to Buhuro, the psychosocial trauma experienced by Blacks has caused them to turn their aggression and rage inward, resulting in violence that includes intimate partner abuse, child abuse and heritage abuse. Frantz Fanon, the renowned French West Indian psychiatrist and political philosopher shared similar analyses in his books, Wretched of the Earth and Black Skin, White Masks.
While Black Americans have lived in terror and under threats on their lives, Buhuro reminds her readers that the creative genius that emerges in the lives of Blacks through music and literature supersedes the efforts to terrorize and destroy them. However, our ancestors embraced this tradition of resistance with the expectation of full citizenship. Unfortunately, America has nevertheless embraced the viewpoint that Blacks are the problem. And far too many Blacks have internalized that message.
Most Blacks are familiar with the terror of “living while Black” in America. When Trayvon Martin, an unarmed Black boy, was stalked and murdered by George Zimmerman he became one of many who suffered similar fates such as Eric Garner, Sandra Bland, Tamir Rice, Sean Bell, Amadou Diallo, Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, Mike Brown, and countless unnamed individuals murdered by police officers’ use of excessive force. Millions of viewers have witnessed the last words and moments of 32-year-old Philando Castile. The video has been viewed over five million times. While social media has raised our awareness of racism and the police brutality that Blacks have suffered over the years, Monica Williams, clinical psychologist and director of Center for Mental Health Disparities at the University of Louisville, asserts that graphic videos combined with lived experiences of racism can create severe psychological reactions including PTSD.
Buhuro asserts, “If our spiritual care practices refuse to address the inclination toward extermination within American culture, then Black alienation and spiritual homelessness will increase. When an image of Black life that was intended to destroy African culture guides our ministries of caring for the spiritual lives of African Americans, those care ministries become destructive and self-destructive by reframing #BlackLivesMatter into #AllLivesMatter.”[3]
Without directly condemning social media, Buhuro and every author in the anthology implies that social media is both a blessing and a curse. The blessing is its ability to make transparent the brutal acts of law enforcement. Technology allows for greater mobilization of large numbers of people for effective social action protests. The curse is that we pay a price for viewing the evil wrong doings that traumatize not only the victim but the viewers of these horrors.
Buhuro addresses what she refers to as Neo-Reconstruction, that is, the efforts of some whites to return America to its past “greatness.” This neo-reconstructionism views Blacks as the problem and has spearheaded acts of violence against Blacks and other BIPOC. This same epidemic of violence has more recently also targeted Asian Americans and Muslim Americans.
Still another form of violence against BIPOC is the “Karen” phenomenon of 911 calls by white women claiming imagined threats by BIPOC. Buhuro and Jamie D. Hawley, authors of “If They’re Black, Call 911 First” ponder this question below:
“The calls are motivated instinctively by a desire to remind African Americans that they are forever in a system that sees them as less than human, undeserving of equal rights and never fully liberated.”[4] Karens seek redress from law enforcement as their solution when they feel threatened. However, examining the definition of the term, i.e., a feeling that a person experiences when he or she believes that another person is likely to inflict pain, injury, damage or danger to his or her survival, reveals the inherent judgment at the root of these claims.[5]
Herein lies a fundamental difference between how whites – epitomized by Karen – and Blacks view police. Research indicates that police take longer to come to communities of color, if they come at all, according to Buhuro and Hawley.[6] When they do come, Black and Brown individuals may be suspected of crimes, be detained, and seen as defiant. Black and Brown people perceive calls to law enforcement as useless and potentially dangerous. In the words of a Black woman who called 911 as a 15-year-old girl lay dying, “They don’t come fast. They give you time to die.”[7] White Americans, on the other hand, experience police as “helpful, benevolent, fair and efficient problem solvers” according to Buhuro and Hawley.[8]
A question posed by the authors about these perceived differences asks how to address some white Americans’ biases, illogical paranoia, and distorted views about Blacks. Mike Males, senior researcher for the Center on Juvenile and Criminal Justice in San Francisco asserts, “White people should be more afraid of other whites than they are of people of color…the rates of homicides, gun killings, and illicit drug fatalities are highest in counties where one in ten residents are white and where President Trump won in the 2016 election…similarly, the white Americans who are safest from such deaths are those who live in racially diverse areas such as Los Angeles, New York, and Chicago, where 2/3 of residents are non-white…and voting favored Hillary Clinton.”
There were so many gems in the anthology. I leave you with a few more:
Lee Butler reminds us that “Spiritual care of Black Americans must help them to cease from seeing themselves as the American problem. To be released from seeing themselves as the problem in America releases African Americans from the burden of finding the solution to this ongoing African American dilemma. When we are able to accept that the problem is not us or ours, but those and theirs who act against us, we experience the freedom we have fought for and died to obtain.”[9]
“If our spiritual care practices refuse to address the inclination toward extermination within American culture, then Black alienation and spiritual homelessness will increase. When an image of Black life that was intended to destroy African culture guides our ministries of caring for the spiritual lives of African American’s (sic), those care ministries become destructive and self-destructive by reframing #Blacklivesmatter into #AllLivesMatter.”[10]
Emotional resilience and flexibility are needed to navigate life’s reaction to crisis. This anthology is a powerful read on spiritual care of activists and those seeking to transform society. The reader is invited to appreciate the diverse contexts formerly colonized and marginalized Black and Brown people live in while navigating the threat of constant violence and trauma, and the situations that may cause them to commit acts of self-destruction and violence.
Blessed Be!
– Reviewed by Rev. Dr. Qiyamah A. Rahman
[1] William DeShazier and Damon A. Williams. “When the Movement Gives Back.” In Spiritual Care in an Age of #BlackLivesMatter: Examining the Spiritual and Prophetic Needs of African Americans in a Violent America, edited by Danielle J. Buhuro. Eugene: Cascade Books ( 2019) 124.
[2] Buhuro, Danielle J. “From Viral to Voyeuristic: When Police Brutality Videos Turn into Black Death Tourism; Self Care for Black Trauma.” In Spiritual Care in an Age of #BlackLivesMatter: Examining the Spiritual and Prophetic Needs of African Americans in a Violent America, edited by Danielle J. Buhuro. Eugene: Cascade Books (2019) 3.
[3] Buhuro, Danielle J. In Spiritual Care in an Age of #BlackLivesMatter: Examining the Spiritual and Prophetic Needs of African Americans in a Violent America, edited by Danielle J. Buhuro. Eugene: Cascade Books (2019) xxvii.
[4] Buhuro, Danielle J. and Jamie D. Hawley. “If They’re Black, Call 911 First; Self Care for Black Trauma.” In Spiritual Care in an Age of #BlackLivesMatter: Examining the Spiritual and Prophetic Needs of African Americans in a Violent America, edited by Danielle J. Buhuro. Eugene: Cascade Books (2019) 14.
[5] Buhuro, Danielle J. and Jamie D. Hawley. “If They’re Black, Call 911 First; Self Care for Black Trauma.” In Spiritual Care in an Age of #BlackLivesMatter: Examining the Spiritual and Prophetic Needs of African Americans in a Violent America, edited by Danielle J. Buhuro. Eugene: Cascade Books (2019) 13.
[6] Buhuro, Danielle J. and Jamie D. Hawley. “If They’re Black, Call 911 First; Self Care for Black Trauma.” In Spiritual Care in an Age of #BlackLivesMatter: Examining the Spiritual and Prophetic Needs of African Americans in a Violent America, edited by Danielle J. Buhuro. Eugene: Cascade Books (2019) 11.
[7] Buhuro, Danielle J. and Jamie D. Hawley. “If They’re Black, Call 911 First; Self Care for Black Trauma.” In Spiritual Care in an Age of #BlackLivesMatter: Examining the Spiritual and Prophetic Needs of African Americans in a Violent America, edited by Danielle J. Buhuro. Eugene: Cascade Books (2019) 11.
[8] Buhuro, Danielle J. and Jamie D. Hawley. “If They’re Black, Call 911 First; Self Care for Black Trauma.” In Spiritual Care in an Age of #BlackLivesMatter: Examining the Spiritual and Prophetic Needs of African Americans in a Violent America, edited by Danielle J. Buhuro. Eugene: Cascade Books (2019) 12.
[9] Butler, Lee. Introduction from “Self Care for Black Trauma.” In Spiritual Care in an Age of #BlackLivesMatter: Examining the Spiritual and Prophetic Needs of African Americans in a Violent America, edited by Danielle J. Buhuro. Eugene: Cascade Books (2019) xxvii.
[10] Butler, Lee. Introduction from Self Care for Black Trauma. In Spiritual Care in an Age of #BlackLivesMatter: Examining the Spiritual and Prophetic Needs of African Americans in a Violent America, edited by Danielle J. Buhuro. Eugene: Cascade Books (2019) xxvii.
Love at the Center: Unitarian Universalist Theologies
Love at the Center: Unitarian Universalist Theologies, a recently published anthology edited by Rev. Dr. Sofia Betancourt, is comprised of twenty-six essays by Unitarian Universalist (UU) ministers and laypeople. Dr. Betancourt, president of the Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA), has curated a collection that celebrates and centers an ethic of love within UUism, informing some – and reminding others – that love is foundational to UUism, and crafting a roadmap to clarifying what UUs believe and what they are called to do in these turbulent times.
The diverse, relentlessly creative voices showcased in the assembled essays provide a significant contribution to clarifying UUs’ articulation of a theology of love, and demonstrating how foundational love is to UUism. The authors provide frameworks that demonstrate the link between humans and their connections to one another and humanity based on a shared ethic of love.
In a non-creedal faith tradition with no stated dogma, this anthology moves beyond the individualistic, all too familiar question, “What do I believe?” Rev. Nancy McDonald Ladd asserts that this is the wrong question. Instead, a more compelling and universal question is, “Who am I in holy and accountable conversation and relationship?”[1] Then an even more provocative question emerges: “Who am I connected to?” She contends that posing such a question creates an expansion of thinking that compels a shift from an individual perspective to a more universal one.
The anthology represents a much-needed, theologically focused resource in the small but growing body of UU scholarship. While every major faith tradition may contend that their beliefs are grounded in love, it is not the declaration but the implementation of love into action that translates into a theology of love, according to the authors.
Rev. Rebecca Ann Parker posits that it is humankind’s disconnection from self that leads to disconnection from others, creating dissociation and alienation, and leading to the perception of anything outside of self as “other” or “not human.” It is in this space of disconnection that humans become capable of “evil,” i.e., harm to others.
Any disconnection from love disconnects humans from the ability to think humanely, act humanely, and embrace their humanity. It is then impossible to relate to and engage the humanity of others. Following this train of thought, one can recognize genocide (from the transatlantic slave trade, Auschwitz, Namibia, Rwanda, King Leopold’s massacre in the Congo to, more recently, the slaughtering of Palestinians in Gaza) as “evil.”
Christians label such actions as sin or “evil;” UUs must be more willing to claim the concept and language of evil. Rev. Ashley Horan points out: “…We struggle mightily to directly name evil and look its perpetrators squarely in the face…There is a moral imperative to name and counteract evil.”[2]
Rev. Parker reflects that a theology of love does not emerge from a singular revelation or a sacred text, rather, it “emerges slowly through a community of people who have shared a history of struggle and hope, who have resisted oppression, endured conflict and discouragement, and found blessings in the midst of it all.”[3]
An examination of the ethics of love and the application of intersectional theory may prompt further exploration into the intersectionality of love with colonialism, patriarchy, racism, sexism, ablism, classism, and heterosexism. This anthology strengthens UUism with such richly diverse and powerful essays. Along with the many stories and songs that emerge from UU congregations, they are evidence of a theology of love embedded in the culture and social action work of UUs.
One concrete example of the theology of love that is foundational to UUism is its commitment to anti-racism, anti-oppression and multiculturalism. Its accomplishments, successes and failures are reminders that one’s intentions do not ensure successful outcomes or immediate results. Rev. Parker reminds readers that “Puritan forebears’ ambition to build a better world wasn’t enough to keep them from harming the people and the lands they colonized.”[4]
Hopefully, this collection is merely the beginning of such endeavors to critique UUs’ ethic of love and its foundational relationship to UUism. Future endeavors could provide additional case studies that reveal congregational community development and demonstrate examples of nurturing the ethic of love, revealing the processes of embedding these values deeply into the eight principles that guide UUs. Since so much of social justice work is motivated and inspired by an ethic of love, there is much to learn from such case studies. Further exploration can shed light on the spiritual discipline of love that stays engaged even when there is failure, as witnessed in the long-standing efforts of UUs to decenter whiteness in UUism, encouraging more racial and ethnic diversity.
Conclusion
While love is a popular and familiar topic in religious scholarship, what sets this anthology apart is that it fills a gap in UU scholarship – much-needed, theologically focused work. Love at the Center: Unitarian Universalist Theologies holds great promise for opening new paths of inquiry into the theological foundations of UUism. I highly recommend this long overdue collection as a pathway to a spiritual deepening that can advance the growth and development of UUs in our understanding of love’s centrality to UUism and illuminate how the guiding light of love is reflected in UU principles. Perhaps UUs might engage and articulate this theology more clearly.
These assembled voices reflect some of the best and brightest thinkers, writers and scholars within UUism. May their efforts encourage continued endeavors in shaping UU theology, and result in producing seasoned and emerging theologians. And may this esteemed gathering of voices and writings inspire a renaissance of theological thinkers.
May the ethic of love continue to guide UUs toward Beloved Community.
May we overcome the barriers that lie ahead and stay grounded in this universal love that is fierce and strong. This love is profound and respectful; it wills us to be changed by our relationships with one another. May it be so and blessed be!
– Reviewed by Rev. Dr. Qiyamah A. Rahman
[1] Nancy McDonald Ladd. “The Theology of Love Was Never a Monologue” in Love at the Center: Unitarian Universalist Theologies. Boston: Skinner House Books, 2024.
[2] Ashley Horan. “Death and Glory, Love and Evil” in Love at the Center: Unitarian Universalist Theologies. Boston: Skinner House Books, 2024.
[3] Rebecca Ann Parker. “Love Is a Circle in Time” in Love at the Center: Unitarian Universalist Theologies. Boston: Skinner House Books, 2024. 219.
[4] Rebecca Ann Parker. “Love Is a Circle in Time” in Love at the Center: Unitarian Universalist Theologies. Boston: Skinner House Books, 2024.
The Rough Side of the Mountain
Black Women’s Ministries in Unitarian Universalism
Editor and scholar Qiyamah Rahman collects and explores the unique journeys of Black Unitarian Universalist clergywomen, celebrating their wisdom, resilience, and contributions within and beyond Unitarian Universalism.
Sister Souurce Media
Acoustic Cover - Somewhere Over the Rainbow
Acoustic Cover - Somewhere Over the Rainbow
Beyoncé, Willie Jones - JUST FOR FUN (Official Lyric Video)
Namarah | Supernova ft. Brasstracks
Jamila Woods - Good News (Official Visualizer)
Amin, Takiyah Nur and Mykal Slack. eds. BLUU Notes: An Anthology of Love, Justice, and Liberation. 2021.
Betancourt, Sophia. Ecowomanism at the Panama Canal: Black Women, Labor, and Environmental Ethics. 2022.
Bowens-Wheatley, Marjorie and Nancy Palmer Jones. Soul Work: Anti-racist Theologies in Dialogue. 2003.
Cole-Jones, Paula. Encounters: Poems about Race, Ethnicity and Identity. 2011.
Danner, Atena. Incantations for Rest: Poems, Meditations & Other Magic. 2022.
Harper, Kristen L. The Darkness Divine: A Loving Challenge to My Faith. 2021.
Harris-Perry, Melissa
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Sister Citizen: Shame, Stereotypes & Black Women in America. 2011.
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Barbershops, Bibles & BET: Everyday Talk & Black Political Thought. 2004.
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Jackson, C. Angeline. Funny Gyal: My Fight Against Homophobia in Jamaica. 2022.
Jones, William. Is God a White Racist?: A Preamble to Black Theology. 1973.
Kacela, Xolani
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The Black UU Survival Guide: Ten Steps for Surviving as a Black UU and How Allies Can Keep it 100. 2021.
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Finding Your Way Home (a children’s book). 2020.
McNatt, Rosemary Bray. Unafraid of the Dark: A Memoir. 1998.
Mishra-Marzetti, Manish and Jennifer Kelleher.
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Conversations with the Sacred: A Collection of Prayers. 2020.
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Justice on Earth: People of Faith Working at the Intersection of Race, Class & the Environment. 2018.
Mitchem, Stephanie
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Race, Politics and Religion: Toward Human Rights in the United States. 2022.
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African American Folk Healing. 2007.
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Introduction to Womanist Theology. 2002.
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African American Women Tapping Power & Spiritual Wellness. 2004.
Morrison-Reed, Mark, ed.
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Black Power and Unitarian Universalism: Revisiting the Empowerment Controversy. 2018.
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The Selma Awakening. 2014.
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Darkening the Doorways: Black Trailblazers and Missed Opportunities in UUism. 2011.
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In Between: Memoir of an Integration Baby. 2009.
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Black Pioneers in a White Denomination. 1980.
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Been in the Storm So Long. 1991.
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Voices from the Margins: An Anthology of Meditations. 2012.
Pinn, Anthony
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When Color Blindness Isn’t the Answer: Essays in Race, Religion & Cultural Production. 2017.
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The New Disciples: A Novel. 2015.
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Humanism. 2015.
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Writing God’s Obituary: How a Good Methodist Became a Better Atheist. 2014.
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What is Humanism & Why Does it Matter? 2013.
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Introducing African American Religion. 2012.
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What is African American Religion? 2011.
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Embodiment & the New Shape of Black Theological Thought. 2010.
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Understanding & Transforming the Black Church. 2010.
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The African American Religious Experience in America. 2007.
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African American Humanist Principles. 2004.
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Noise & Spirit: Rap Music’s Religious & Spiritual Sensibilities. 2004.
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Terror & Triumph: The Nature of Black Religion. 2003.
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The Black Church in the Post-Civil Rights Era. 2002.
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By These Hands! A Documentary History of African American Humanism. 2001.
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Why Lord? Suffering and Evil in Black Theology. 1995.
Pinn, Anthony and Anne H. Pinn. Introduction to Black Church History. 2001.
Sinkford, William G. ed. To Wake, To Rise: Meditations on Justice and Resilience. 2017.
Rahman, Qiyamah, ed. The Rough Side of the Mountain: The Ministries of Black Unitarian Universalist Women. 2022.
Rahnema, Mitra, ed. Centering: Navigating Race, Authenticity, and Power in Ministry. 2017.
Soto, Theresa I. Spilling the Light: Meditations on Hope and Resilience. 2019.
Takahashi, Leslie; Chip Roush and Leon Spencer. The Arc of the Universe is Long: Unitarian Universalists, Anti-Racism and the Journey from Calgary. 2009.
Thandeka.
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Love Beyond Belief: Finding the Access Point to Spiritual Awareness. 2018.
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Learning to Be White: Money, Race, and God in America. 1999.
Valentin, Marta. A Long Time Blooming. 2014.
Yamamoto, Yuri; Chandra Snell, and Tim Hanami, eds. Unitarian Universalists of Color: Stories of Struggle, Courage, Love and Faith. 2017.