Category Archives: Queer

Lent Day 2: Miseducation and Common Prayer

I’m sitting in Bracken Library, taking a break from scanning pictures into the computer for my students most recent project, and it’s a little bit eerie in here. There are probably only 25 or 30 people at the computers, if that, and it’s very quiet, even here on the first floor. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the library quiet like this. Today has been strange all around, though, so I am not sure I should be surprised about the library.

Today was the last day of Istep for the 8th graders, so tomorrow we move back to doing our regular classroom stuff, instead of being broken up and spread around for testing, so my stress level will surely go back down. The students told me they thought the test was easy, which either means they did really well or really poorly. I think they were trying to tell me that, so I would feel like they had done super well. One student even said, “It’s because you taught us so well.” I have no doubts I teach well, but I will see in a few months how well they did on this stupid test, which is all that really matters now isn’t it? Two days makes or breaks a student. And his or her teacher.

Anyway, I did receive another blessing today. When I got home, I had yet another book that I purchased with my Amazon points waiting in my mailbox: The Miseducation of Cameron Post. I made the mistake of starting to read it, and now I don’t really want to do anything else. Obviously, if you clicked the link, you notice the secular nature of the text, but to me, the subject is so intimately intertwined with my spirituality, I can’t see a difference.

Church people insist that our sexuality reflects our spirituality by encouraging people to remain virgins until marriage for the sake of religious purity, so it only makes sense to me that our sexuality is somehow an act of worship. Maybe this is why I nearly weep when I find a book that speaks to my soul like this one. I keep finding myself thinking, Where was this book in 1987? My life would’ve been so different if literature like this had existed then. I might have realized at a much earlier age who I really am. I might not have been so lost for so much of adolescence. But I can’t go back, nor do I want to!

As I am reading this book it makes me think about how intricately woven we are as human beings, how delicately God put us together, but yet how hardy we are. I mean let’s face it: humans are fragile but resilient. We can crack or break, but we can take a lot of shit before we do. In a strange way, I think that’s what Lent is about. God wants us to recognize that we are fragile, but that we are designed to weather the storm, whatever that entails. Jesus wants us to follow him to that cross, where our resilience meets our obedience meets our fragility.

For the first time, today I tried to pray the various prayers throughout the day from Common Prayer, and I think it went well. I noticed that it made me think through the day about who I am in Christ. I love that the midday prayers are the same every day and I love that one of those prayers is St. Francis’s: “Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.” And of course he goes on: “For it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.” How beautiful. And if we really pray it and believe it, how can we not be transformed?

Through these ritual prayers, I realized that I was more conscious on some levels about how I conducted myself in the classroom and with colleagues, but praying through the hours also drew attention to the fact that I am so far from where I want to be spiritually. However, praying so frequently and with a specific prodding to pray for others really made me think hard about those around me who need prayer, love, grace, and my action. And so I continue to learn.

Peace.

Last Day Before the Long Haul

Today is my last day of freedom before the long haul to Spring Break. Sometimes I am sure you think, She hates her job. I don’t hate it; in fact, I love my job. What I don’t love is the 8 to 4 regularity of it. I don’t love being in the same room for five hours, teaching similar things for those five hours. I also don’t love grading. Not one little bit. I love the look on a student’s face when she finally understands what we’re talking about. I love the letter from parents telling you that you are making a difference in their child’s life. And, I love the way you feel at the end of the day, like you’ve just helped 113 students get a little bit smarter. About English. About themselves. About the world. About life.

I told my mom yesterday that I am pretty sure I need to pastor a church. I would love it if the Methodist Church would just get rid of their ridiculous homophobia and ordain GLBT pastors. I’d be the first in line to sign up for candidacy, but I can’t live the lie that is what the Methodists expect of their queer pastors. I need to pastor because I love talking with people about God’s love, I love hearing about what people are going through, I love trying to work with people to reach a common solution. The facet of pastoring that’s freeing is that you don’t have to put values on people. And, actually, you are specifically called not to put values on people, unless you are helping them to see how God has so much more for them in their lives than what they are currently experiencing. I think I mean that you are called to help people see their shortcomings, but also to help people see how God is already there waiting for them, to make them more perfect. I love this quote from Rob Bell: “A fresh new word has been spoken about you and you are actually pulled into a better future.” That’s what I want to bring to people. You aren’t who you were; you’re in the process of becoming.

As far as wishing that the Methodists would change, I suppose I can poop in one hand, and wish in the other and which do you think will fill up first?

Think Before You Speak

Take the heterosexual survey here.

Wow. Strange Days.

I love The Doors’ song “Strange Days,” and I think applies to this weeks reflections from my Burris students: “Strange days have found us. Strange days have tracked us down. They’re going to destroy us, our casual joys. We shall go on playing or find a new town.” I don’t expect my students to love everything I love, but I find it hard to believe the fact that the Beat poets aren’t at least liked by some of them. Maybe it is because I wanted to spend an entire week on them, but since we missed two days, which we still have to make up, for the swine flu, we only got to talk about them for two days. I despise teaching all of American Literature in one semester. I think it short changes the students. However, I am still amazed that the Beat poets aren’t some of their favorites. To each his or her own, though. I still love my Burris kids. They rock.

When I was in high school, I absolutely loved the Beat poets. I remember thinking they were my saving grace because they talked so much about how corrupt our culture was/is and how we needed to majorly overhaul it if we were going to survive. I loved the apocalyptic nature of their writings and how they sought to confuse the boundaries between the sacred and the secular. I mean, how genius is it to resurrect a dead poet, Walt Whitman, and then talk about how the speaker follows him through grocery store while he is eying the grocery boys, stealing food, and avoiding the store security? It’s fucking brilliant.

Maybe this is a sign of a generational shift. Or maybe I am simply abnormal, which is probably more likely. I can remember Jaymes and I being (or fantasizing about being) so counter-cultural. We read Kerouac and ate him up with a spoon. We started an underground newspaper to rage against the machine before the band was even popular. I just think I should have been born in the late 40s so I could be a hippie. My blood runs pinko and sentiments do too. Either way, at least my students have been exposed to a group of writers whose influence is still felt in many ways.

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I am thankful for the ability to agree to disagree with people. And, I am thankful there are multiple churches that reach multiple audiences.

Exercise: none, absolutely none, I read all day

Food: banana, juice, strawberry Belgian waffle, nachos at La Palma, black bean burger and veggies at Chili’s, chips and salsa

It Surprises Me.

It surprises me that some things ignite great discussion, even when they seem trivial or mundane. Particularly, when posting a strange status on Facebook about vampires, homosexuals, and uber-conservative Christians, I had no idea the response I would get. The responses were a toss up among people making sure that I knew they weren’t “those” Christians, people who got the joke, and I am sure people who were deep down offended but didn’t want to admit it. I just think it is weird. Some of the same people who won’t read Harry Potter because it is about magic, who don’t believe in abortion because it is murder, who would shit if they knew the person sitting next to them was gay, are the people who purchase midnight tickets to see a movie about vampires and werewolves. That does not make sense. It confuses me, but I don’t want to dwell on it. The post was good fodder for comments, and I had fun reading them.

This week wrapped up nicely. I am pleased.

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Exercise: rode bike to RB from home, walked to Burris and back to RB

Food: banana; milk; Clif bar; apple; hot chocolate; black bean burger with mushrooms, peanut butter, jalapenos, swiss cheese, lettuce, tomatoes; waffle fries; a few dill chips, sprite, decaf coffee