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The Epstein Files

I am curious as to whether you are hearing a lot, a little, or nothing at all about the Epstein files. For everyone who says “We’re not angry enough” or “IS SOMEONE GOING TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS,” I want to say that Doing Something looks like constant calling out of the sexualization of girls and children, vigilance and anger about sexualized images of children in advertising, avid protection of children, and not blindly extending trust and access to people just because they are in roles of authority.

Doing Something looks like listening to children, teaching children and girls about bodily autonomy, consent and boundaries, raising girls to raise their voices and call in adults whenever they are harassed and objectified by adult men, refusing to participate in children’s beauty pageants, questioning why cheerleaders and other female sports teams “require” provocative little skirts while boys and men wear pants to do the same sports, telling your male family members that they’re being disgusting when they sexualize your children in any way, telling all of your family members that babies are not “heartbreakers” or “lady killers” because they smile or engage in cute behaviors… do you start to see where I’m going with this? I’m enraged. I’ve BEEN enraged. I have been a “bitter,” outspoken feminist for many decades, and my first feminist protest was at a Hooters in Minnesota in 1991. Why was it ever okay for a restaurant chain to serve up young women’s bodies and breasts as a feature of their marketing? So many environments and institutions contribute in explicit ways to pedophilia and rape culture.

Make sure you don’t require your daughters to be polite to men who want to hug them or tell them they’re pretty little girls. Teach them to say, “I don’t care if you think I’m pretty, I think you’re creepy.” Raise girls who are comfortable being offensive within the relentless sexualization of patriarchy. Pay for their self-defense classes. Applaud their disregard for smiling nicely when men encroach on their space and feel entitled to their attention. Teach them to return flirtatious behavior or come-ons with stony- faced contempt. Help your children document and report inappropriate behavior from coaches, clergy, teachers, doctors who may have gone into these fields exactly for their access to children and youth.

Do not imagine that this is a rare perversity, to want to sexually exploit children and minors. It is pervasive and omni-present across the globe. I don’t know if those in power will do much of anything to bring accountability to actual monsters. I don’t have high hopes because I am old and have been in a woman’s body now for sixty years.

I have watched and tracked the casual disregard for girls’ and women’s safety, autonomy, human rights, right to get an education, work, or walk around in the world unthreatened by sexualized threats and violence by men. I was groped on my breast in a crowded restaurant when I was five years old by a man who leered at me as he walked away. I just thought he was very weird and gross, but he didn’t hurt me and I was more confused than upset. When I told my mother, she turned sheet white and said, “Don’t tell your father, he’ll find him and kill him.”I never thought a thing about it until decades later. Such is the world we live in. It IS the world we live in.

Most people would rather go on being likeable than confronting the myriad ways that our society casually accepts the relentless sexualization of women from the time they’re born. Boys are also victims, and also need to be protected not only from predators but from misogynists who want to desensitize them to their empathic instincts.

Over and out on this for now. Please consider what I have said. Where in your life, community, social circles, workplaces, and yourself can you become a fierce, unapologetic defender of children and young people’s inalienable right to exist free of sexualization and sexual exploitation

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What Are We Going to DO? Post-Election 2024

A thing I don’t recommend saying to yourself or to anyone else is: “HOW ARE WE GOING TO GET THROUGH THIS?”Statements like this are too open-ended and signal to your brain and body that you are in distress. They are non-productive. Be aware of how you talk to yourself and others. What we put out and how we focus our minds will either drain or create energy. At the very least, you want to maintain equilibrium.

Pay attention to how certain phrases and mantras activate anxiety and despair in your body. What is the point of that? Is it motivating? Is it helpful? No? Then compassionately consider other ways to direct your thoughts. Instead of cries of dismay or distress, consider the moment. What are you doing? What are you focusing on? Is there a direct threat coming at you? If not, then you are almost certainly able to adjust your focus from “AUGH” to learning and contributing. Set yourself a task. Research an organization, agency, community or individual that is doing the kind of resistance and support work you know is needed. Make yourself a student of their materials and how to get involved. Don’t expect anyone else to do this for you right now. It is your responsibility. If you want to know how we’re going to get through the next four years, ask yourself how YOU are going to get through the next 24 hours or week.

Adjust your oxygen mask. If you have children, they come first. Elders in your care are also a priority. You have to attend to your own mental and physical health, eat, sleep, earn money, keep your home and car functioning. Start looking at what is coming in small doses. You don’t need to follow the news every day. Think strategically without panic. Stay open, curious, and strong. If you have never considered that ours is an essentially violent, aggressive, brutal, sadistic, destructive species that occasionally manages eras of peace and generosity for small populations of people across the globe while others suffer, reflect on it. Adjust to it. It will help immensely. This is nothing new, and until you are facing the firing squad, you should not fall apart. Even when facing the firing squad, remember Fyodr Dostoevsky.

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Everyone Dies Alone

I seem to have had my first semi-viral Tweet with a response to the wonderful funny lady Leslie Jones, who is one of my Twitter (s)heroes after dealing with a universe of unbelievable hatred and abuse for daring to be a black woman starring in a remake of “Ghostbusters.” The spewing to which she was subjected was incredibly disturbing, and she left Twitter for a time. She’s back — she didn’t owe anyone that, but I’m glad she returned — and recently posted  a gym selfie with the caption,

Ok back to cardio. But confession I feel like I’m doing it for nothing. I know it not I’m healthy and look good but I really feel like “what’s it all for” if the people you want to notice don’t. I just feel like I might die alone. Sorry that’s pretty heavy today!!

That gave my heart a pang when I read it and I Tweeted back to her,

Leslie. I’m a minister + I can tell you that everyone dies alone. Be healthy for you. Don’t give so much power to men or objects of desire. Be your own romance. Get your own power back. I’m rooting for you.

BuzzFeed picked up the outpouring of support for the indomitable, delightful Miss Jones and featured my tweet at the top of the article, and right now my tweet has been “liked” around 1,400 times.

I’m glad. If anything I’ve ever said was going to get that much attention, I’m glad it’s my for one of my signature beliefs and messages:  being alone is the human condition and it’s not a punishment or a failure. Embrace it.

I speak as a convert. All the adult years I spent in the quest for a significant other were characterized by frustration, insecurity, fear and a sense of being untrue to my authentic self. I have always had a melancholic temperament but debilitating depression went away when I stopped seeking a mate.

This does not mean that I am without male companionship and it does not mean that I have chosen a celibate life. It means that my esssential assumptions and expectations have changed. Men, dating and relationships have a tiny portion of the power in my life to distract or distress me that they once did. My orientation has almost completely flipped: I very rarely care if men approve of me. I  care to know whether or not I am interested in them, if I approve of them, if I am attracted to them, and whether or not I want to remain in relationships with them.

Why this should be so radical well into the 21st century (and especially for a fat woman– we are assumed to have no self-esteem) is a sad mystery, but patirarchy is tenacious.

Many Tweeteurs liked and affirmed my message to Leslie Jones, but I became fascinated by one negative response by an odd stranger who accused me of “preying on” Jones with “religious talk” when she was down.  Apparently my cheerleading seemed to this person to be peddling of some kind of salvation scheme. I can’t for the life of me imagine what. But this weird accusation led me to consider the question of how much my religious commitments and experiences inform my positive perspective about solo life?

A lot, as it turns out.

First, community. My experience of church life has been interesting, exciting, fulfilling, emotionally challenging and satisfying, spiritually deep, and characterized by loyalty, collaboration, and creative problem-solving. It has been encouraging and outward-focused in a way that I always craved feeling with an intimate partner.

Although the mainline Protestant church has declined in numbers and availabiity of volunteer commitment in recent decades, it is now a truly voluntary community of those who really want to be there. This is a cultural shift from the days when affiliation with a house of worship was fairly de rigeur, just part of respectable citizenship. Church-going and religious participation were rote. I love that the people who are now part of church life are almost outlaw, especially in secular, liberal New England where I live and serve. They want to be in community. They take relationship seriously. They mostly really want to learn and grow.

The sense of vitality, energy, and intensity I feel in the religious communities is something I have almost never felt in a romantic relationship. I am glad that many people have, but it hasn’t been my experience. My experience has always been that partnered life constricted me. Community life makes my horizons larger, not smaller.

There is also the matter of Jesus, who is a moral exemplar and more to me. Jesus was not partnered to one person and explicitly challenged kinship models of family, expanding its definition to include all those who are in fellowship in a common spiritual purpose and ministry.

Kinship loyalty for the sake of contrived familial loyalty is  tribal and often harmful. I remember years of trying to drum up affection for a boyfriend’s parents, whom I found to be vapid at best and close-minded bigots at worst.  Free from trying to make myself appealing to a man’s parents or siblings, I prefer to make my family among a wider circle of intimates: friends, church folk, the theatre community. I gravitated at a young age to the LGBTQ community for its “We Are Family” ethos, and I still feel far more at home in the queer community than in heterosexist spaces where I am disapproved of or looked at with pity or suspicion for being solo, never married and intentionally and gratefully childless (I remain forever grateful to both of my parents for never assuming that married life and motherhood was my destiny).

So it turns out that my advice really did have a bit of a proseletyizing in it, just not the way that person accusing me of that assumed!

In 2018, the #MeToo movement is not only about the endless daily harassment to which women have been subjected, it is a take-down of a phony partnered love salvation scheme that breaks just as many spirits as does bad, excluding, judging theology.

I have my days like Leslie Jones does, but not often and the feeling of being bereft of love passes quickly. It doesn’t last because I have overcome the impoverished definition of love that I inherited from our sad, lonely society.  Erotic, romantic energy has been defined solely as something that two people experience that leads them into the bedroom.  I’m not knocking that kind of erotic energy — it’s fun while it lasts! But I want to promote a broader appreciation of the erotic that has to do with energy, intensity, full engagement of body, mind and soul that occurs whenever we connect with others in ways that fosters trust, happy memories, shared goals, and emotional closeness.

Americans are over-fed on stories, shows, songs and movies about the lover who makes a gargantuan and sometimes foolish effort to convince the one perfect love interest that he is worthy — think John Cusack as Lloyd Dobler holding the boombox over his head in “Say Anything.” Please see me! Please love me! Please complete me!  Why give so much power to one person? How do you know for sure they’re worthy of that trust?

Also, Lloyd, if you wake me up playing Peter Gabriel outside my window I’m going to be hella mad. I have work in the morning and it matters to me that I get a good night’s sleep. You want to be make a grand gesture? Offer to walk my dog while I officiate at a funeral for a young man. Make me dinner. Listen while I vent. Don’t harass me and irritate the neighbors.

Seriously, though? Everyone: take your metaphorical boombox everyplace and play your songs wherever you are.  Just play your song and see who shows up to dance. It might be a stray cat. It might be an elderly woman who has the time to chat, and needs to.  I know this sounds corny but I promise you that it is eminently worth the effort to dismantle the romance myth that the culture installed in all of us like software at our birth. Not all of us were meant to live out that story.  There are thousands of other ways to live fully and with plenty of love and sexiness, if you don’t define sexiness as sleeping with the same partner every night (and reports from the front lines of that aspect of partnered relationships aren’t great!).

Ultimately, as I said to Miss Jones, we go into our caskets one at a time. Even the rare birds who mate for life (and I have known many in my years of ministry) wind up with one at bedside and one taking their last breath, and one is left to rely on their own strength and community relationships to see them through what comes next.  The fact of this matter is why I always bristle when I hear the expression, “You’re going to die alone,” as a kind of threat or insult. It’s no insult. It’s no threat. It is just reality.

We die alone. We may have a spouse at our sides when we do, or that person may be in a nursing home lost to Alzheimer’s. That person may have predeceased us. We may be divorced  and have children by our side. We may be divorced and be estranged from children, or have children who are busy with their own children and in-laws across the country, or have jobs that prevent them from being with us. I have seen all of these things in my ministry. They are exceedingly common, not unusual or tragic. They are the way life works out.

There is no need to keep relying on the appearance of a hypothetical Wonderful Significant Other on our life stage to get on with a thrilling, fulfilling production.

 In Terrence McNally’s play, “Lips Together, Teeth Apart,” one woman character, who is a mother, tells another woman, who is not a mother but wants to be, how to deal with children.  Chloe says, “Don’t be intimidated by them, like they were something special. They’re just little people. That’s all you have to remember about them.”

It’s the same thing about objects of desire: they’re just people. Whether an actual person you’re fantasizing about or an idea partner you’ve concocted in your imagination, we are all  just people.  No one can — or should want to — save anyone else from what John Keats called “the vale of soul-making,” or the path of individuation that, done well and with an openness to many sources of love, leads to no regrets at the end of life or bitterness in the midst of it.

There are many significant others for all of us. Some of them drop into our lives for one beautiful hour, some for decades. Please don’t miss the beauty and romance of this experience by pining for that one fantasy partner who may or may not ever manifest in your life.

Much love to you, Leslie, and everyone else.