poem

Privilege Says...

I want to introduce you (in case you do not already know of her work) to Dr. Christena Cleveland. Her website introduces her as:

”a social psychologist, public theologian, author, and activist. She is the founder and director of the recently-launched Center for Justice + Renewal, a non-profit dedicated to helping justice advocates sharpen their understanding of the social realities that maintain injustice while also stimulating the soul’s enormous capacity to resist and transform those realities. Committed to leading both in scholarly settings and in the public square, Christena writes regularly, speaks widely, and consults with organizations.”

Image by David Rochas - used with permission from Dr. Cleveland’s office

Image by David Rochas - used with permission from Dr. Cleveland’s office

You might be interested in exploring her Learning Community where you can get a sense of her current and how to support her future work.

Dr. Cleveland wrote the following poem. From what I understand the insights she elevates are not “new” to those who study and speak about privilege. The poem’s power resides in her ability to list several examples of what privilege looks like. As a person who as more privilege than most people in the world, I am humbled by Dr. Cleveland’s work and give thanks for the ways she is gracefully teaching me. I know that I have so much learning, no, so much unlearning to do. I pray that others in my position will join in the efforts to repent of our blindness and admit that we might very well be doing more harm than we would like to admit. And may our repentance lead not forgiveness and change of how we use our privilege.

I share the following poem with permission from Dr. Cleveland’s office:

Privilege Says...

Privilege says I'll only listen to people who experience oppression if they offer practical solutions to the problems that they describe.

Privilege says learn my language, my customs, and my particularities -- so we can all enjoy unity.

Privilege says the world's problems would be solved if everybody were just like me.

Privilege says I can dress unbecomingly but still be perceived as edgy, unique or not materialistic, rather than homeless.

Privilege says I'll only listen to people who experience oppression if they communicate in a way that's easy for me to understand.

Privilege says I have no cultural identity.

Privilege says diverse people should come to my spiritual community, on my turf, in my comfort zone.

Privilege says I've earned everything I've got.

Privilege says the characteristics of the divine that are most evident in my culture are the most important ones.

Privilege says why are people who experience oppression always talking about oppression? Why can't we all just get along?

Privilege says your perspective is tainted by your culture. I speak pure truth.

Privilege says I'll only listen to people who experience oppression if they describe their negative experiences in a super hopeful way and I leave feeling super hopeful.

Privilege says that reverse discrimination is real.

Privilege says I'll only listen to people who experience oppression if they come to my institution/conference/social space. I don't see that in doing so, they risk being further marginalized by me.

Privilege says I'll only listen to people who experience oppression if they possess the kind of credentials that I value.

Privilege says I'll only listen to people who experience oppression if they listen to me.

Privilege says people who disagree with me are angry.

Privilege says I choose a spiritual community based on what is comfortable for me and my family.

Privilege says I would listen to people who experience oppression but they see everything from their unique cultural viewpoint. I, on the other hand, can see the big picture.

Privilege says I'll be friends with people who experience oppression, as long as they never call me an oppressor.

Privilege says your perspective is important, just not as important as mine.

Privilege says my culture naturally embodies more of the characteristics of Jesus.

Privilege says I'll only listen to people who experience oppression if they remain calm (in the way that calm means to me).

Privilege says let's plan a conference/roundtable/anthology and then after the fact invite diverse people to "add flavor."

Privilege says this cross-cultural encounter is uncomfortable. I'm leaving

Privilege says this person who experiences oppression’s story is such a downer.  Why can't they be more hopeful and grateful?

Privilege says I'd definitely follow a poor/trans/person of color leader.  I just never have.

Privilege says I should get brownie points for being friends with people who experience oppression.

Privilege says I don’t see color.

Privilege says I'll only listen to people who experience oppression if they repeatedly affirm that I'm a good person and not like other privileged folks

Privilege says this is the land of equal opportunity.

Privilege says I don't have a cultural identity, but people who are different than me do.

Privilege says I'm not privileged.

Marketing the Most Undesirable Thing Ever

Just after the table of contents of Richard Rohr's book Everything Belongs, we find this statement/poem entitled Inherent Unmarketability

How do you make attractive that which is not?
How do you sell emptiness, vulnerability and non-success?

How do you talk about descent when everything is about ascent?
How can you possibly market letting-go in a capitalist culture?
How do you present Jesus to a Promethean mind?
How do you talk about dying to a church trying to appear perfect?
This is not going to work
(which might be my first step).

The book is about contemplative prayer and how it is a great gift given to us but often not appreciated in the Western expression of the Church. These questions push against the temptation of the Church (and her leaders) to be more relevant and spectacular and powerful.

"How do you sell emptiness, vulnerability and non-success?" 

You can't. 

The Gospel is not something we sell. It is not something that has a slick marketing campaign and it is not something that comes with guaranteed success, wealth, and/or luxury. It is the very thing that calls us to abandon those idols and leads us to the cross. For it is through the cross, where we die to ourselves, that we place our hope. 

Success in the Church is just different. It looks like broken and contrite spirits. It looks like mercy and not sacrifice. It looks like doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God.

That sort of life does not get you famous or many followers. It may even be considered unsuccessful. 

But success is not what we are hoping for. We are hoping for resurrection.

Hats

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I do not like to wear hats because they never fit right.

Which is why I prefer hats that form around my head.

Fitted baseball hats, toboggans, even bandannas are welcomed because,

These hats conform, they are comfortable.

These are the hats my friends wear and we all agree hats should be made to conform to us.

And this crown of thorns I was given, I rarely put it on.

It does not conform to me.

I must conform to it.