SCAPEGOATING, MULTICULTURALISM, AND THE MEDIA

It seems that whenever a country faces a great crisis, its people sort of collapse in on each other as they analyze the problem.

See, it’s really hard to take the blame for something. Whether we’re five or fifty, we find is easier to say, “It’s not my fault,” than to say, “That was my mistake,” or, “How can I make it right?” and, especially, “I’m sorry.”

Taking blame takes a bit of real courage and a lot of knee-buckling humility—and these qualities are especially hard to find in political and social jargon and media reports and official declarations of state.

It is much easier to say, “This is what has happened to us,” than to say, “I am complicit in this mistake or hardship or screw-up.” It is much easier to speak passively, name and blame omitted (by whom?), than stand to in as the subject with a verb and declare how “I” am involved.

But passivity is also much less satisfying. When people get sick of wandering around the by whom? question, someone must be found to take the blame. But who?

In the case of countries and crises, the “true” nationals and “real” citizens band together to look for scapegoats—someone who is other but also within. Someone to carry the guilt. Someone to exile.

What exactly am I talking about here?

I’m talking about Sarkozy shipping off Roma in the midst of his own increasing unpopularity, France’s financial reforms, and street riots.

I’m talking about the big fence on the U.S.’ southern border and those big green vans that prowl the streets, ready to gobble up anyone who looks Hispanic.

I’m talking about German Chancellor Angela Merkel, who declared today that we are kidding ourselves about multicultural societies—that, in Germany, “the approach [to build] a multicultural [society] and to live side-by-side and to enjoy each other...has failed, utterly failed.”

I’m talking about all the recent scapegoating around the world because of a poor economy and increasing unemployment.

Chancellor Merkel’s comments follow a wave of recent anti-immigration feelings in Germany and political pressure from conservative parties (including her own) to require immigrants to “do more” to assimilate into German society. The immigrants, especially Turks, are to blame for all this extra pressure on the welfare state—oh, and for crime.

Multiculturalism has failed, Merkel? Next to this article, the BBC wants “[My] Say: Does multiculturalism work?’

Here is what I would like to say: rewrite your question.

Not does multiculturalism work?, but how will we make multiculturalism work? There is no does it work option anymore; there is the fact of all of us living in multicultural societies around the world, and, therefore, the question of how we will make it work.

How are we doing? Very poorly. The debate about who was here first and last and who deserves a state’s money is irrelevant. It is not multiculturalism that has failed, Chancellor Merkel, but we who have failed multiculturalism.

How will we begin to right our mistake? The first is to admit it. And after that? After that will take much more hard work and creativity than we have put in so far. After that must be rid of nationalistic sentiments and stuffy, obsolete legislation. After that will require multicultural decision-making and multicultural reporting—a transparent, many-voiced discussion. After that will demand much of all of us.

After that must begin now. And—just in case it is unclear as to who must begin—it is we who must begin.

To read about Chancellor Merkel on multiculturalism in Germany follow this link: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-europe-11559451

LESSON PREP

Today was a very chill day—one where I felt like I was sauntering through each minute, unrushed, sane. It was a good feeling, and rare.

Evening classes went very well—my students are extremely sharp, motivated, and interesting, which makes the hours go by quickly. We also laughed a lot today, which helps—apparently, modal verbs of obligation and of probability can be quite funny.

Now I'm back at the dorm, drinking tea and scouring YouTube for videos appropriate for the next chapter in my Listening and Note-Taking Class. The theme? Children's Media. (There have been worse lesson-planning tasks.)

If you need a flashback or a smile, check out some of the following links:

Classic Sesame Street with Sid Caesar

Elmo's Song

Bill Nye the Science Guy Theme Song

Bill Nye—Gravity Demo

Bill Nye on Quicksand

I omitted the Teletubbies clip. I wouldn't put you through that, after you've been so kind as to read this post and to put up with many other ramblings and musings over the past while.

Best to you in this day and always, wherever you may be.

MAYBE

As usual, I'm up too late over here in Lithuania. There are probably at least twelve things on my list that should happen before blogging (especially ironic, as I taught a segment on time management to my first years this week), but I had a bit of a realization today: I haven't been doing much that I enjoy recently. My brain is screeching to a grating halt, and it's only week four at LCC. Not writing or reading for pleasure, and not resting enough, for me, is like forgetting to replace the brake fluid in a car....or like loosing the cartilage in my knee caps way too early in life. I'd rather not have knee- or brain-replacement surgery quite yet.

Do you know, I talk a lot about how much I believe in rest, and yet, given the opportunity, I fail miserably at it? Even Jesus, the Son of God, knew when to get in the boat and call it quits. It's part of being fully human, and I'm terrible at it.

Maybe it's a control issue. Maybe it's because I don't really believe that the world won't unravel if I don't get this—this very last thing (followed by nineteen other last-things)—done. Maybe it's because I want to know or be sure of exactly how things will turn out. Maybe I think I can keep up with time, or hold it for just a lick, if I run fast enough.

Are you at all like me?

Maybe not. Maybe you are good at giving up control, and not-knowing, and not-being sure, and not holding all things together.

Then again. You are still reading. Maybe.

WHO KNOWS?

i am always surprised by where i end up.

i don't mean, when i head to the market for some tomatoes, i instead end up at the post office—i mean, i strike out with a question, or turn a new page, or have a conversation, or get on a plane, and though i may have started out with a sort-of intention, i got curious. i happen on something i never would have thought of.

fiction is one of the best ways to find surprise endings. reading or writing. it's the—well, how could there have been an elephant that crashed through the roof of the opera house? that's impossible!—when reading, or the—i wonder what choice this prince will make if he is afraid. i wonder what happens if he hordes fear and loves ambition most of all...—when writing another chapter or narrative turn.

when reading and writing, you've got to throw yourself in there (with the chickens and foster kids and insecurities and calluses) without the answer straight in front of you, written in very neat lines.

tonight, i am looking forward to sleeping after a long, hard, good first week in klaipeda, lithuania. after a long trip and just a few days of university orientation, suddenly i'm supposed to be a teacher, with four classes and syllabi, as well as confidence and expertise and poise and a large dose of creativity. also, sanity. (how do you all do it? i can't imagine yet.) but i also have a few lithuanian words; i've had a good meal from a local restaurant, a view of the harbor and its ferries; i have wind-pinched cheeks and a day of rest tomorrow—time, the market, the sea.

i have no idea yet how this year will look. but i've started writing. and, as with any story, there is bound to be hard and good and bad all together, and, at the very beginning, mostly questions. here's to jumping right in.

who knows where i might end up?

FROM THE THIN PLACE

Everyone prefers to stick with the subject of people, but how shortsighted to leave out the question of how we got here and where we're going.

—Kathryn Davis, The Thin Place

How shortsighted we are.

How shortsighted I am today.

Measure from nose to chin. Shoulder, to fingertip, to toe. To bills and worry and fridge mold.

Dwell in questions much bigger than you are sometimes, before you must get back to the details.

...

Also. I just began that book, The Thin Place, though there are a thousand tasks and twelve things to think about at once and this and that to do—and it is really, really lovely.

TO HOLD THINGS, OR NOT

Sometimes it is difficult to hold things in your hands. Heavy boxes. Important decisions. Very hot potatoes.

But it might be more difficult not to hold anything in your hands at all. There is nothing for you to hold, and yet, you need there to be—want there to be—and so you close your fists tight around air, around anxiety, around necessity or panic, digging your fingernails into your palms. It hurts.

The most difficult thing of all is to hold nothing in your hands and to wait, open-palmed, for something to be placed in them. It is difficult, and your hands are shaking with the waiting, and the wanting, and the not-knowing what it will be—if it will be good, or bad, or not what you wanted or ever imagined it would be. It will be surprising. And, if you've really waited, open-palmed, not grabbing at air or other things that aren't very worth holding, it probably will be just the right thing.

Wait.

TEASPOONS

hello friends.

i am at one of those points in the semester. one where i almost slip off the face of the earth for a bit, and you're not sure where i've gone or what's happened to me, though you shouldn't worry; inevitably, i'll come walking over the rounded horizon again when all the academic battles have been fought in who-knows-what-universe, and, won or lost, i'll come back thirsty and mentally wounded and will need your company.

please be there.

i won't have much time to post in the next while, but here's a thought for now:

we live a life measured in teaspoons

just another true thing i heard from gary schmidt—one of my english profs who holds much wisdom, grace, and, by far, the best stories.

we live a life measured in teaspoons

this made me sad, because i know it's true; our days are full of carefully measured minutes and lists, and this is especially true in the last weeks of school—the very last weeks of school i will have at calvin. inevitably, they are chock full of final projects, some which are simply hoops to jump through before i graduate, others which are supposed to be the most crafted essays and creative projects—ones that reflect all that i have known and learned over the past four years, and what, because of these years, i hold and believe.

there seems to be too much to hold and consider, then to figure out how to write about, and far too little time for it all to happen. teaspoons.

still, i am trying not to be snared in the nowness and listness of the next few weeks. because i do not want to look back and see how small and measured i've made my days, and how lonely, and how sad.

I KEEP FORGETTING TO REMEMBER

Tonight, I am writing my way through some final essays, personal statements, job applications, etc., and I ran across something I wrote in an essay for my English Senior Seminar class back in February. It's something I keep forgetting to remember.

I think that living through fear is one of the easiest ways we can destroy our creatureliness. God did not create us to be creatures of fear; and so I think part of vocation is dispelling the fear of messing up and simply choosing, trusting that God will find you on the road you are walking.

...

I really do believe God can use his servants to do meaningful work in any context, after any choice or blunder or weak-kneed move, but it is good to remember that “Maybe [God] just wants you.”

...

Maybe it is because of [our] rude understanding that the only thing that seems really right is to turn everything over. We can theorize and calculate and drive ourselves nearly mad trying to figure out what we should do or trying to get to the depth of a mystery, but in the end, maybe we just have to hold on to the truth of giving ourselves up entirely.

I really believe these things; I just don't feel them today. So I am glad to run into this reminder. And I'm glad for people who remind me. (Thanks, friends.) There is too much to hold in my own hands, and I need you. Also, there is so much I cannot understand, and this is okay, and I need to be better at trusting.

That is all for today. Thanks for reading.

(!) LOVE

Some people are easy to love and you love them.

Some people are very difficult to love and you love them anyway.

Mostly, you love very badly.

I love very badly.

(It's this thing we do.)

So let's keep trying, okay? Okay.

That's all I really wanted to say just now.

THE THING IS,

Something true that I've been rediscovering and reimagining with friends and writers of many faith traditions:

faith is carnal.

If you look the word carnal up in the dictionary, you get these definitions:

–adjective

1. pertaining to or characterized by the flesh or the

body, its passions and appetites; sensual: carnal pleasures.

2. not spiritual; merely human; temporal; worldly: a

man of secular, rather carnal, leanings.

You get these synonyms:

sexual, sensual, erotic, lustful, lascivious, libidinous,

lecherous, licentious; physical, bodily, corporeal, fleshy.

You get this antonym:

spiritual.

The thing is, I'm not so sure that dictionaries contain complete definitions, and I'm not so sure that carnal is supposed to refer only to lust and lecherousness, and I'm not so sure that carnal is not spiritual.

When we write definitions of words, they get clarified and burdened and hindered by context, cultural connotations, the biased reasoning of the editing team, and, well, imperfect understanding.

Sensual. Not spiritual.

Hm.

The thing is, the central story of my spiritual life is pretty carnal.

God screaming out of a birth canal, God drinking wine at a friend's wedding reception, God hugging lumpy, leprous people, befriending prostitutes, God getting thirsty. God snot-nosed from weeping, God getting dirt under his fingernails, God laughing. God stooped down and bloodied up and stretched out on a cross, dying.

The story is pretty sensual, pretty scandalous.

The dictionary writers got something right then, but just that one thing wrong: the antonym thing.

But then, maybe we don't really want that term—carnal—following faith is.

Maybe we don't really want a carnal faith; because it's a little scary, and a lot scandalous, and maybe we just don't want to feel or risk that much.

The thing is, I'm not so sure we have a choice. It's a carnal faith or none at all. And, the (last) thing is, I'm a sucker for stories. So I'll take the carnal one. You?

NOT BLOGGING FOR TWO MONTHS IS LIKE...

not blogging for two months is sort of like holding my breath underwater—until the oxygen is mostly depleted from my brain, and my eyes start to bug out (which doesn't feel great but is sort of exciting), and i finally let go of the tightness, the potential energy of holding it all up inside, and come up with this result: i suck in salt water and seaweed and splutter to the surface to gasp for a while in the air.

that's a bit what it feels like.

what i have been holding tight and thinking over these past two months:

-how remarkable insects are (watch life on the discovery channel. sunday nights.)

-how the christian reformed church (not just the entity but the individuals, myself included), has often over-fetishized the mind/intellect and has devalued or been apathetic to the body

-how i would really like to have a kaleidoscope again

-how art is not excessive or unnecessary

-how ants sometimes seem more purposeful than human beings (again, life, as well as psalms and proverbs)

-how we should tell the truth. also, how we should stop pretending like we can ever have the entire Truth in our finite state. this might keep us from wielding it like a sledgehammer to smash through people's heads and homes.

-how i was created with an able body an able mind and, however flawed they may be, what God wants me to do with them

-how i need to live in sunny places

-how "man is a vast deep" and we rarely get to the depths of ourselves or others or what we were meant to be and do (borrowed phrase from augustine, confessions)

-how learning more never makes the world or people or God smaller, but only more infinite and mysterious. i know so little. i want to know so much.

-how good it is be still

-how badly we need children's literature to save us from our smallness...to save us from being over-critical, overworked, overbearing, over-rational, overcautious, over-categorized, over-arrogant, overstudied, over-independent

-how i want to have a mud fight in our backyard

-how being kind or humble is sometimes better than being right (especially for those of us—ahem, leah—who really really really like to be right)

-how good and necessary it is to rest, and also to laugh (which are often the very same thing)

-how often i use parentheses

-how i love school and probably will forever

-how i want to write stories and poems that people can enter by multiple paths/realities and leave with more conclusions than i can anticipate. in other words, ones that expand and not restrict.

okay. those are some things. there will be other things. thanks for reading these things.

TOO MUCH

Sometimes I find out that things have become too much of me. Good things too, but they (that always ambiguous "they") are wrong when they say that you can never have too much of a good thing.

Broccoli, for example.

Or caution. You can have too much caution.

You can have too much neatness. You can have too much confidence. You can have too much quiet. You can have too much wittiness. You can have too much independence, too much dependence. Too much doubt. Too much.

Too much.Too much.Too much.

The only thing I cannot put at the end of too much is "God." In this case, too much is just enough, and that is really all we'll ever need.

Ridiculously simple idea, but so difficult to really believe....and live.

Forgive me, but I keep stewing over this "too much." So I'm just going to continue the list a bit; feel free to add. In fact, that would be great. It's incredible what I can learn from people who dare to be honest. Thank you.

You can have too much...

Caffeine

Affirmation

Criticism

Planning

Conviction. You can wield too much conviction.

Audacity

Work. You can have too much work.

VOCATION. AKA WHAT THE HECK I'M SUPPOSED TO BE DOING WITH MY LIFE.

So I'm reading all about vocation today for my English senior seminar, and it's nearly driving me crazy—mostly because I read a lot of this four years ago when I started Calvin, though I suspect those readings were possibly less-dense freshman-versions of the same idea. Still.

I know many of you have been hit over the head with this conversation too, but just in case you haven't or you simply need a reminder...Vocation basically means your calling, or to be called. People often talk about what we are "called to do" in life—and we get this mixed up a thousand ways and never quite figure out what it means and stew over it a long time until, finally, we figure out that we've all been a bunch of arrogant jerks who think that God is sitting up in heaven, twiddling his thumbs, and worrying about whether we're marrying the right person or choosing the wrong career path. And once we're humble enough to figure out there's a much bigger picture than our few miles of existence, we also get the message that God still deeply cares about our concerns and joys and interests, however tiny or broken.

Sigh. It can get confusing.

But as I keep paging through basically the same stuff written in different genres and by different authors, one thing is pretty clear about vocation, and thankfully, it's pretty simple: God wants you.

That's it. He gave himself up, so that you could be freed to give yourself up. To him and his purpose...his Church, his world, his pain, his joy...his absurd grace and forgiveness...(I just realized how much I say "him" or "his" when referring to God, and how not-sure I am about that particular pronoun, and how I'll have to explore that in another blog. Hold on to that.) ...to his delight, his surprise, wonder, and glory, and beauty, and depth, and mystery...all of it! Wow.

So quit worrying. Because God wants you, and the fantastic thing is, he already has you. So just stop clutching at whatever it is that's keeping you from letting God reveal who he is and who you are in him.

ONE WAY THE WORLD REALLY IS

...because more and more we want to hear the world, not as a beautiful tune but as it really is. —Wassily Kandinsky, from "The Problem of Form" (1912)

Just something I ran across in my reading tonight. (Some of you know I don't normally resonate with the Modernists—at all—but here you have it.)

Tonight I went to a play and heard a bit of the world as it really is.

As it is, we should cry, and gag, and hurt. We should scream and be angry and cower and fall prostrate on the ground. But we should also hope, because we have been given bodies: hands and feet and faces and lips to translate the story again.

Thank you to those of you who helped tell it; thank you to those of you who might read this, follow the links, and care.

Only a few links (so many others...just keep clicking and learning!):

-The Cries of Wolves, by the Calvin Theatre Company

-Moscow Theatre Hostage Crisis

-Second Chechen War Crimes and Terrorism

-Timeline: Chechnya

-List of Human Rights Cases Pending Before European Court of Human Rights (ECHR)

LISTEN TO YOUR UKRAINIAN BROTHAS AND SISTAS

Hey friends.

I know there's a lot going on in the world news these days (the main headline-catcher being the earthquake in Haiti), but I have sort of a special interest in Eastern Europe, and I just wanted to highlight some stuff that's going on over there right now.

The Ukraine is in the middle of presidential elections. While communism crumbled in the Ukraine at the same time as in Hungary and the rest of Central and Eastern Europe, it seems that other countries are much farther along the road to democracy, liberal society, civic engagement, all that jazz.

There is hope that the Ukrainian people are headed for a more free and active society; after a ton of voter discrimination, behind-the-scenes wheeling and dealing, and a skewed electoral outcome in the 2004 election, the Ukrainian people protested—it's known as the Orange Revolution—and this resulted in a more free, fair, better-monitored election and a president chosen by the people instead of a bunch of elites.

But the people are still discouraged by the lack of change over the past six years, embittered by too many years of government corruption, frustrated by long-withheld freedoms. Sigh.

Just pray for your Ukrainian brothers and sisters, okay?

Pray that people are free to get to the polls and vote for whomever they choose. Pray that the leadership is worth voting for. Pray that leaders (political, cultural, religious) continue to emerge who truly want the best for the Ukrainian people and for the development of Eastern Europe. Pray that the people begin to build a culture of civic trust, engagement, critique.

Pray, pray, pray.

And while you do, listen to what your Ukrainian brothers and sisters are crying out. Here are some of their voices:

I defaced my ballot, effectively annulling it, and added a note to whoever will be counting the votes "No matter who wins the election, you, as citizens, have already lost it". It's simple, nobody who's in power in Ukraine has ever cared about the people, their good and their future. And the people, in turn, don't know how to make them care, but they still go to vote like sheep. They cannot defend their basic rights and are being abused by the authorities time and time again. It's a never-ending circle.
Bayan, Nikolaev, Ukraine

The elections were indeed held in a decent manner. My friends and relatives worked as observers for different candidates at the local election commission in Gurzuf, Crimea, and reported no violations. The turnout is surprisingly high and shows that the population is participating actively in political life despite the disenchantment with the Orange Revolution.
Yana Lapitskaya, Gurzuf, Crimea

Most of the people I meet agree that there is no worthy candidate in Ukraine who really wants to tackle corruption. I'm a graduate from medical school and I need to bribe to get work at the hospital.
Serj Shvernik, Kharkov, Ukraine

Although to onlookers it may seem fair enough I don't believe 'democracy' has ever had a place in our country. The technologies have become more refined so all those loudmouths can rig secretly, giving the impression of 'fairness' and 'openness'. Nothing will ever be fair in this country until all those who got used to being in power in the old day give way to the younger ones, to those who look to a better future and are not just looking out for themselves.
Anton, Kiev, Ukraine

Yushchenko's defeat comes as no surprise, but it cannot be seen as a victory for the candidates going into the second round, far from it. Call it a protest vote if you like, because the Ukrainian people have utterly lost confidence in their political leaders. None of the candidates is bringing anything new to the table.
Alenga David, Ternopil, Ukraine

Thanks for reading. Always keep reading and learning.

(More in the BBC article: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/8467152.stm)